Weathering Captain Storm

by Charles, Jane

  “You know, there are several entertainments in Brussels,” he began. “It’s as if the season were going on here instead of in London.”

  “I wouldn’t know.” Isabella sipped from her glass of wine.

  “Balls, soirees, musicals, luncheons, dinner parties. Everyone is on holiday while the army prepares.”

  “Have you attended any?” She tore off a piece of bread and took a bite.

  “A few. I’ve received several invitations.” As soon as people learned he was here, he’d started receiving them. It wasn’t much different from London. It was his name, heir to the Earl of Kenley, and he was a captain. The combination allowed him entrance to almost anywhere he wished to go.

  “You must go so you can tell me all about it.” Her smile lit in her eyes.

  “I have a better idea.” Nate turned more fully toward her. “You should attend with me.”

  Pink stained her cheeks. “I couldn’t. It’s not my place.”

  “It is if I say it is.”

  “My background is humble. I’d feel out of place. Awkward.” She picked at the cheese. “You should take Mary.”

  Yes, Mary should attend the functions as well, but it wasn’t his place to escort her. “It would not be proper.”

  “Of course.” The smile slipped from her lips though Nate couldn’t understand why.

  “Unfortunately, Major Soares has been everywhere I’ve been.”

  Isabella frowned.

  “He’s never been alone.” He hoped he didn’t have to explain further.

  She sighed. “He wasn’t alone when he found us today either.”

  Isabella took a drink, and it was the first time he’d seen her grey eyes harden in anger. He’d seen her sad, overwhelmed, tired, and happy, but never angry.

  “There was a woman on his arm, who he’ll dine with later, after he returns Mary to the camp.”

  Nate clutched the wine glass so tightly he was surprised it didn’t shatter in his hand.

  “That was humiliating enough, or so I assume for Mary. Seeing him escort another lady to a ball would be devastating.” She glanced up at him. “Or, at least I’d feel that way.”

  No wife should ever be treated as Mary was, and Nate would never treat Isabella so disrespectfully.

  But he didn’t want to talk about Mary and the damn major. “That’s still no reason why you cannot attend with me.”

  * * *

  He didn’t understand. Not at all. Yes, she’d love to attend a ball with Nate. To be in his arms, dancing, wearing a beautiful gown. But, she was his second choice. If it were possible, he’d take Mary, but since the major always had his latest mistress about, Nate wouldn’t embarrass Mary in such a manner.

  Further, she had nothing to wear. She may have saved every shilling from washing, but there was certainly not enough to purchase such a frivolous item.

  “Thank you for asking, but I couldn’t go.”

  “Perhaps your brother would join us.”

  “Orlando?”

  “Or Bertram.”

  “We are not of your world, Nate.”

  “You are if I say you are.”

  Isabella bit her bottom lip and stared in his green eyes. “I can’t,” she finally said.

  He frowned and leaned back. He actually seemed disappointed. Nate couldn’t be so lacking in female companionship that he’d take her?

  Then again, they were friends. Perhaps he didn’t wish to encourage other ladies. She was safe. Mary’s best friend. “The only clothing I own is what you see me in every day at the hospital.”

  He studied her from head to toe. “If you had worn that dress while tending me, I would have certainly noticed.”

  “The heat in her cheeks warmed further.

  “That’s because this dress belongs to Mary. She let me borrow it. I own nothing fine.”

  Understanding lit in his eyes. “I should have realized.”

  “How could you?” she laughed. “I’m a missionary’s daughter, niece of a vicar and sister to a doctor. My home is a modest vicarage in Hampshire and I spend my time with soldiers. There was never any reason for me to own anything so fine as this dress, let alone a ball gown.”

  “One day, Isabella Valentine, I will escort you to a ball.”

  She laughed at his words. “Someday.” It would never happen. Of that she was certain.

  “You look lovely in yellow, Isabella. I hope you have the chance to wear many more such dresses and are able to leave the hospital more often.”

  “Thank you, and perhaps I will.” Except, after today, Major Soares would probably watch Mary all the more. He’d stayed close to her after he found Nate washing clothing. But the major didn’t want his wife, so why should he care if others were around? Except perhaps, he didn’t want anyone else to have her either. “If Mary can get away again.”

  “You’re with me now,” he pointed out. “Do you really need Mary by your side?”

  Isabella looked up into his green eyes. What was he saying? Had she misunderstood? Did he really wish to be with her instead of Mary?

  No. She shook the thought away. His first love was Mary, she was just lucky enough to fall in second. Isabella would just need to decide if her heart could take spending more time with Nate, knowing that it would be broken when all of this was over.

  Then again, she always knew that once this war was at an end and she returned to England, she’d never see him again, so why not throw caution to the wind? It might be the only time she’d be able to enjoy herself, with a true gentleman. “If my brother could spare me, and if Mary has another dress I could borrow, I might enjoy visiting Brussels with you again.”

  With that, Nate picked up her hand and kissed the back of her fingers, nearly burning her skin and Isabella’s heart skipped a beat.

  “I look forward to further outings.”

  “As do I,” she answered with complete honesty.

  Chapter 8

  After escorting Isabella back to camp, Nate returned to his tent and began combing through his invitations and decided on the perfect ball. It was to take place in two days and left him just enough time to obtain an invitation for Dr. Orlando Valentine and a guest. If Nate couldn’t get Isabella to a ball, then perhaps her brother could.

  After paying a visit to the hostess, Nate went in search of Dr. Valentine, invitation in hand. He found him with patients and waited until he was free.

  “A word, Dr. Valentine.”

  The doctor eyed him with suspicion, but stepped away so that they could talk.

  “I have an invitation for you to attend the ball being held by the Duchess of Richmond.”

  The doctor frowned.

  “I don’t plan on accepting that invitation or any of the others I’ve received.”

  A bit of irritation settled in his gut at realizing Isabella could have already been attending several entertainments. “What of Miss Valentine?”

  Dr. Valentine’s jaw tightened, and for a moment Nate feared he’d overstepped. Did her brother not approve of him?

  “I understand you and Isabella have been spending some time together.”

  “We’ve talked often.” Nate hadn’t been trying to hide his interest in Isabella and if the good doctor had being paying half the attention to her comings and goings as he should have, he’d already know that.

  “Did you ask her to the ball?”

  “I suggested attending functions, but she refused me.”

  The doctor nodded. It was almost as if he approved. “Neither Isabella nor I belong at a ball, or any other entertainment, Captain.”

  “She said as much,” Nate admitted.

  “So why procure an invitation and then come to me?” The doctor started to walk away.

  “Because, more than anyone, Miss Valentine deserves to be at a ball.”

  He stopped and turned to Nate, suspicion and interest in his eyes, and Nate hastened to explain. “She’s spent the past two years caring for soldiers. Holding their hands as they took their l
ast breaths. Dressing wounds and reading from books. Doesn’t she deserve to have an evening of enjoyment? The doctor’s eyes held his for longer than a moment, putting Nate on edge.

  “You care about my sister?”

  His face warmed. “Yes. I do.”

  “What are your intentions?”

  Nate swallowed. “She’s a friend. I one day hope we could be more.” He hadn’t even expressed his emotions to Isabella, so he certainly wasn’t going to tell her brother that he was in love with her.

  The doctor nodded. “You two are from different worlds.”

  “As she’s mentioned to me.”

  This seemed to take the doctor by surprise since his eyebrows rose.

  “She won’t attend with me, but you could make her go with you.”

  Dr. Valentine rubbed his temples as if a headache was coming on.

  Nate had only asked him to take his sister to a ball. It’s not as though he’d proposed. Not yet. “Dr. Valentine, your sister deserves a night at a ball. Heaven knows when she’ll get another opportunity once the fighting begins again.”

  “That’s just it, Captain Storm, my sister and I are from humble backgrounds. Even after we return home, you will never find either of us at a ball. A country assembly, perhaps, but nothing beyond.”

  “All the more reason for her to attend this one.” Though gentlemen often tried to avoid such functions, Nate couldn’t understand why the doctor wouldn’t want his sister to enjoy a night of dancing that took place in a grand ballroom.

  After a moment, the doctor blew out a sigh. “Very well. I’ll ask her to attend with me.”

  The tension Nate had been holding finally let go of its hold. “Thank you,” he said. “I only have one request.”

  Dr. Valentine lifted an eyebrow. “That would be?”

  “Don’t tell her the invitation was through me. She might not go, which would ruin the whole purpose of obtaining it in the first place.”

  He stiffened. “Is it because of you she doesn’t wish to attend?”

  Nate could not have the doctor thinking Isabella didn’t want to be with him. She certainly hadn’t tried to avoid him. “No,” he answered. “It’s because she doesn’t think she belongs and will refuse if she knows I’m the one who arranged for her to be there.”

  After a moment Dr. Valentine nodded. “I won’t say a word to my sister.” He finally took the invitation from Nate. “But you should understand, you and my sister are from two different worlds.”

  “I know.”

  “Not as well as you think.” With that he walked away before Nate could ask him to explain.

  * * *

  “We are attending what?” Isabella was certain she’d not heard Orlando correctly.

  Her brother picked up a handful of invitations. “As a doctor of rank, I’ve been invited to a number of functions and have ignored them.”

  “Why is this different?” Did Orlando really want to attend a ball? It was so unlike him.

  “The officers expect to encounter Napoleon by the end of June, beginning of July at the latest, and this peace we’ve enjoyed will come at an end.”

  “And this prompted you to decide to attend a ball?” Her brother hated society. Hated the way he’d often been treated by those from gentry who thought themselves above others, who’d only purchased a commission because they’d not been the first born and there was little else they could do. He did not socialize with others of rank so why did he suddenly want to go to a ball being given by a duchess?

  “I should mingle with superior officers, if you must know.” He tossed the invitations back on a small table. “It is better for my career if I don’t ignore their invitations.”

  “Then go!” Isabella insisted. “You don’t need me.”

  “How could I go to a ball and leave you back here?” Orlando took her hands. “You need to get away from here too. Enjoy a night of dancing and champagne. We both deserve a night of pleasure.

  This was so unlike Orlando, but if he was concerned about his career, she’d do what she could to help him. “What am I to wear?”

  His smile slipped.

  “You hadn’t thought about that now, had you?” He might have a regimental uniform that he hardly wore because he didn’t want his finer clothing ruined by blood, dirt, and mud, but she had nothing but the same clothing she wore each day. Unless…

  “I have funds,” he said. “Go into Brussels and buy a dress.”

  Isabella laughed and started for the entry of their tent. “That shows how little you know, dear brother. A modiste cannot simply make a ball gown in two days’ time.”

  His shoulders slumped, as if he was truly disappointed. It was as if he really wished to go.

  “I’ll see what I can find.” With that, she left and went in search of Mary, who she found writing a letter for an ill soldier.

  After she’d finished, Isabella pulled Mary from the ill. “By chance do you have a ball gown in one of your trunks?”

  Mary blinked at her. “Ball gown?”

  “Yes,” Isabella blew out and then went on to explain.

  A smile blossomed on Mary’s face. “I have at least a dozen.” She grabbed Isabella’s hand and pulled her along. “And, we have plenty of time to make any alterations that are needed.”

  “I don’t want to change one of your gowns. It isn’t right.”

  Mary laughed. “It isn’t as if I’m wearin’ them.”

  “But you could.” Isabella stopped. “Come with us, Mary. It will be a grand night.”

  Her friend sobered. “Philip wouldna like it.”

  Isabella didn’t care one bit what the major liked or didn’t.

  “Besides, I’m not so blind. I ken that he has a lady, or ladies, in Brussels. It’s humiliatin’ enough here. I doona wish to face his infidelity in a ballroom as well.”

  This was the first time Mary had ever mentioned what they all had witnessed. “Why do you put up with it?” Isabella finally asked.

  “I was young and foolish enough to marry him. I’m stuck, as ye ken.”

  Yet, her friend didn’t seem overly heartbroken.

  “I doona believe I ever loved Phillip. Or, maybe I did, once upon a time, but I was so innocent of the world when we met, and he was so dashin’ in his uniform. He knew what to say and I fell. Lookin’ back, it was more of an infatuation. Had he not needed to leave and if we had remained in London, I might have realized that there was no depth to my feelin’s, and we would have parted.”

  Isabella squeezed her friend’s hand. Isabella knew she’d never marry. It must be worse to be married to the wrong person. As Mary could never divorce her husband, she was well and good stuck. And what was more of a shame, there was a good man, a gentleman, who did love her, and Mary was not free to be with Nate.

  Chapter 9

  Brussels, June 15, 1815

  Nate spotted the major from the top of the stairs in the Duchess of Richmond’s ballroom. “That ass doesn’t even have the decency to bring his own wife to the ball,” he ground out. No doubt, Mary was back at the tent or with the sick, caring for the soldiers under her husband’s command.

  “Who?” his brother, Benjamin, the Earl of Kenley asked. His brother had arrived in Brussels just two days ago, surprising Nate with his arrival.

  “That ass.” Nate nodded to the major.

  “He brought another lady?”

  “Not exactly a lady,” Nate muttered, watching Major Soares and his latest light skirt make the rounds. In fairness, she wasn’t a light skirt either, but a widow who had come to Brussels with so many of London Society.

  Ben arched an eyebrow. “Why do you care?”

  “Because his wife is one of the sweetest and kindest women I’ve ever met, and he doesn’t even try to hide his affairs.” Nate glanced away from the man who sickened him.

  “Are you in love with the major’s wife?” Ben asked quietly.

  “No,” Nate defended loudly. “But, I do care for her and admire her. She deserves
much better than the likes of him.”

  The next couple to enter caught and held Nate’s attention. His pulse immediately quickened. She’d come! “I always imagined she’d look beautiful in a ball gown.”

  “Who?”

  Blast, had he spoken out loud? “Miss Isabella Valentine.” He nodded toward the most beautiful woman to ever follow the drum. “Beside her is her brother, a physician, Captain Orlando Valentine.”

  “A sister?” Ben questioned. “I thought only wives were allowed.”

  “I don’t believe she asked anyone’s permission.” Nate chuckled. “Just followed her brothers.”

  “More than one?”

  “Bertram. A soldier in the same regiment as the major.”

  Isabella and Dr. Valentine paused, glancing around. Her red hair shone in the candlelight, and he’d be willing to bet the light blue of her gown complimented her pewter eyes.

  Isabella looked up and a moment later, saw him, and a soft smile formed on her full lips.

  “Excuse me,” he murmured to his brother. Tonight, Isabella would be his. He was ready to give her his heart and prayed that she was willing to accept it and give hers to him.

  * * *

  She never in her life ever dreamed she’d attend such a fine ball. The ballroom was grand, and it wasn’t right that someone like her should attend such an elegant event. But as Orlando had received an invitation, and he’d insisted she attend with him, she tried to block out the guilt for attending when soldiers needed her care. As her brother had said, they should enjoy these moments of pleasure.

  They were late in arriving because her brother wanted to check on a few patients, not that she minded. What she hadn’t expected was some of the tension in the room from the superior officers. Yet, Isabella would not let it concern her. This just might be the one and only ball she ever attended, and she was going to soak in all the elegance. If she were very lucky, she’d dance the night away with Nate. On the morrow, she’d tell Mary all about it and then send letters to her sisters.