A Mistress for Major Bartlett Page 14

  ‘Your brother?’ The landlady gave her a knowing look. ‘But no. No man looks at his sister the way that man looks at you. And I recall both your brothers. They have your nose. That one—’ she jerked her thumb upwards ‘—he is much more handsome. And then it made me to wonder at the way you said you did not want visitors, when last time you were here, there was a constant stream of callers, and you and your sister and her husband the marquis, you were all so caught up in the going to parties and balls. It all became clear,’ she said in a conspiratorial tone, ‘when the other English officer came, the one with also your nose, the one with a voice loud enough to be heard over a salvo of cannon fire.’

  Sarah’s stomach hollowed out. She thought she’d been so discreet. She thought nobody would guess she was living in one room with a man to whom she was not married. And yet now this landlady knew. And Major Flint knew.

  And how many others?

  ‘You haven’t told anyone, have you? That Major Bartlett and I... That the Major isn’t...’

  Madame le Brun pulled a face. ‘As long as you pay your rent, what do I care what you get up to behind the closed doors?’

  Was that a subtle threat? Was the woman going to increase her rent, in return for her silence?

  ‘Besides—’ she gave a wry smile ‘—to begin with, I wondered if perhaps he was French.’

  ‘French?’

  ‘Those men who carried him in, they wore the blue jackets. And they drove a French wagon. And so to begin with I did not tell anyone there was a wounded officer here at all.’

  ‘I... Well...’ Sarah recalled how the woman had fussed over her the night she’d turned up, on horseback, with only what she could cram into her saddlebags. How willing she’d been to hide her in the stables in case the French overran the city. How she’d even put up with Ben lolloping up and down the stairs, a law unto himself, once she’d seen how much comfort he brought Sarah during the long hours of watching over Tom.

  And felt ashamed that for one terrible moment, she’d suspected Madame le Brun of attempted bribery.

  ‘Thank you, Madame.’

  ‘It is nothing,’ she said with a careless shrug. ‘But you—’ she reached up and patted her cheek in a motherly fashion ‘—do not mourn too long for the other one. He was not a worthy suitor for one with such spirit as you.’ She pulled a face. ‘I have heard about the behaviour of your British cavalry during the battle. How all their brains belong to their horse. How they charge recklessly here and there.’ She waved her arms wide. ‘They do no damage to the enemy, they get themselves into bad positions and practically hand themselves and their poor horses to the other side for the butchery.’

  ‘What?’ Sarah’s mind reeled. She had come to Brussels to learn the truth. But did she really want to hear exactly how Gideon had died? If it had been in that manner?

  Oh, why hadn’t she just stayed in Antwerp, in blissful ignorance? If only she’d never seen a battlefield, she could still picture Gideon falling down neatly, swiftly, feeling no pain and suffering for only a moment.

  As it was...

  ‘Excuse me, I must return to the Major. See how he is.’ With a fixed, rather strained smile, she turned and strode along the corridor, and up the stairs.

  It felt as though a cold hand was squeezing at her insides. Major Flint had said Gideon had been cut with sabres. Cavalry sabres, like the ones that had knocked Tom unconscious, while nearly slicing off the top of his head.

  She most certainly didn’t want to learn that her reckless, charming, rather wild twin had thrown his life away in some stupid, pointless charge such as Madame le Brun had described. And got himself butchered.

  She came to a dead halt the moment she entered Tom’s room and just stared at him, her arms wrapped round her middle.

  He’d been reading a newspaper, by the looks of it. Pages were scattered all over the bed.

  ‘What is it? What has happened?’ He stretched out his hand to her, causing a flurry of newsprint to drift to the floor.

  Sarah ran to him. Flung herself into his arms and buried her face in his shoulder.

  He rocked her, stroked her hair, but didn’t say a word. Didn’t tell her it was going to be all right and she shouldn’t get herself into a state. He just waited, patiently, until she felt ready to form words.

  ‘Gideon,’ she said, sitting up and pushing her hair off her face. ‘He was in the cavalry. And Madame le Brun said...about the cavalry... There have been stories about how they all charged about in disorder and got themselves cut to pieces without doing any good. And I can’t bear it. I can’t bear to think of him throwing his life away in such a stupid fashion.’

  ‘He didn’t. I’m sure he didn’t.’

  She pulled herself out of his arms, his words jarring deep. ‘Tom...don’t. Don’t mouth stupid platitudes at me. Not you of all people!’

  ‘Me of all people? What do you mean by that?’

  Yes, what did she mean? Why had it hurt so much to have her fears dismissed as though they were nothing? ‘I thought...I thought...’ He’d kept saying she was an angel. Looking at her as though he almost worshipped her. But now he’d spoken to her just the way everyone else did.

  Had it been an act, after all? The practised charm of a rake? ‘I’ve been such a fool,’ she gasped. ‘I actually thought you respected me. That you would be honest with me if nothing else. That you wouldn’t treat me as though I’m completely bird-witted!’

  He took her shoulders firmly and looked straight into her eyes.

  ‘I do respect you, Sarah. You have no idea how much. And I don’t think you’re in the least bit bird-witted. I think you’re perfect.’ He traced the line of her jaw with one finger.

  She pulled back, only preventing herself from slapping his hand by an immense effort of will. This was absolutely not the time for him to finally start with the flirtatious gestures.

  ‘And I would never lie to you, do you hear me?’

  But he just had.

  ‘I think we both know that I’m very far from perfect,’ she began bitterly.

  ‘Why can you not see what I see? Why can you not believe in yourself?’

  ‘Because...’ She shook her head irritably. ‘Oh, there are too many reasons to go into them now. But if you really do mean to be honest with me, then what do you mean about being sure he didn’t throw his life away?’

  ‘Just think about it, Lady Sarah. Your brother died at Quatre Bras. It wasn’t anything to do with a cavalry charge, so far as I know. No—from things I heard, he was with Colonel Randall at the time.’

  ‘He was with Justin?’ She stared at him in confusion. ‘Why is this the first I’ve heard of it? Why didn’t you tell me before?’

  He let go of her. Looked down at his hands as he clasped them over his stomach. ‘I’m sorry. I should have thought of it. Knowing that you only came to Brussels at all to find him. Your twin.’ He sighed. Looked up at her, his eyes bleak. ‘The surgeon was right. In part, at least. I...I don’t remember all that much about the battle. Just impressions, really, of the hours immediately before I was injured. And then nothing, until I started coming round and couldn’t move because I’d been buried under all that masonry.’ He grimaced as if in remembered pain. ‘That episode stuck in the forefront of my mind, to be honest. It was only when you talked about hearing the cannon fire on Friday, it came back to me. That was Quatre Bras. That was where he died, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. That’s right. I...’ Her stomach gave a funny lurch. ‘I just panicked, didn’t I, when Madame le Brun started talking about the way so many of the cavalry officers died in the battle on Sunday.’ She’d overreacted to him saying he didn’t think Gideon had thrown his life away, too. Tom hadn’t been dismissing her fears, the way others would. No, he’d really meant it. He had grounds for saying what he had. Only, it had hurt so much to th
ink he might not be taking her seriously, after the way he’d made her think...

  She shook her head. She wasn’t going to waste time wondering what Tom thought of her, let alone what she thought of him. It was irrelevant! She’d come to Brussels to find out what had happened to Gideon. She shouldn’t have let Tom sidetrack her so completely.

  Although, it wasn’t all his fault. She rubbed at her brow. ‘You know, part of me still can’t grasp the fact that he’s dead. I came to Brussels convinced he couldn’t be dead. It was only when I rode over the battlefield where I found you, and saw all the...’ She shuddered. ‘Saw how frail men’s bodies really are.’

  ‘Sarah.’ He reached for her, took her into his arms and drew her head to his chest.

  And it felt so good that she just nestled there. Listening to the strong beat of his heart under her cheek. Feeling the strength of his arms, holding her. Keeping the rest of the world at bay.

  Keeping the reality of her bereavement at bay.

  That was what she’d been doing, she saw. While she was busy, nursing Tom, she didn’t have time to dwell on the truth. She’d been pushing it away for as long as she could. By any means.

  She’d just decided to pull out of Tom’s embrace and do something, when a knock came at the door. Giving Sarah the perfect excuse to untangle herself, sit on the chair by his bedside and run a hand over her hair to smooth it, before shouting out permission to enter.

  It was Madame le Brun, with a troubled expression on her face.

  ‘I know you said you do not want the visitors. But this man, he says he has come from Colonel Randall, your brother. And so I thought...’ She spread her hands wide in one of those Gallic expressions that said so much.

  Sarah’s heart seemed to flip over in her chest. On the one hand, she did want to learn how Justin was faring. But on the other, if he was sending messages to her, here, then it meant he’d discovered where she was. And probably who she was with, too.

  Which meant the fat would be in the fire.

  Well, she’d survived all sorts of things so far this week. Done things she’d never imagined she could do.

  Including kissing a rake. Deliberately. To shock him.

  She wasn’t that timid, diffident girl who would do anything to avoid confrontation. To say whatever people wanted to hear, if it meant they would leave her be.

  She squared her shoulders.

  ‘You did quite right, Madame. Send him up.’

  Though as soon as Madame had shut the door on her way out, Sarah reached for Tom’s hand. Somehow, nothing seemed so bad when she could hold his hand.

  Not that she needed him to protect her from her own brother.

  On the contrary. If Justin really did know she was here with a man they’d nicknamed Tom Cat, it was more likely she’d need to protect him.

  ‘I won’t leave you, Tom,’ she vowed. ‘No matter what he says. What threats he uses. Not while you need me.’

  * * *

  She’d got that look on her face again. The look of a lioness guarding her cub. Which made him feel much better. When she’d come in looking so bereft, after he’d just seen Bennington Ffog’s name on the casualty list, he’d experienced such a bitter wave of jealousy he could still taste it. Even when she’d confessed that her heartbreak was for her beloved twin, rather than the man who’d spent the last weeks of his life practically turning cartwheels in order to gain her favour, from what he’d observed, the jealousy had scarcely abated one whit.

  There just wasn’t room in Sarah’s heart for any man, not while it was still filled with Gideon Blasted Latymor.

  Except, she had flung herself into his arms for comfort, hadn’t she? Appeared hurt when she thought he didn’t respect her.

  Ah, but then when he’d explained himself, she’d let him take her in his arms and settled in as if she felt she belonged there.

  And now she was bristling at the prospect of receiving a messenger from Colonel Randall.

  He’d been half-joking when he’d said he would gladly stay ill for ever if it meant keeping her beside him. But there was no denying that whenever she thought he needed her to defend him, she forgot all about her dead twin and took up the cudgels on his behalf. And it was such a sweet feeling, having somebody thinking he was worth defending. Nobody had ever tried to defend him from anything.

  No wonder he wished, so badly, that he belonged to her. With her.

  The door opened then, and a short, squat man with iron-grey hair came in.

  ‘It’s Robbins, isn’t it?’ Sarah got to her feet and held out her hand to him, in a particularly regal fashion. With a smile Tom would describe as queenly.

  Tom just about managed to bite back an appreciative grin. She’d fought Major Flint openly. But it seemed she was going to subdue Robbins with a combination of charm and hauteur.

  ‘I have a letter here from Miss Endacott,’ said Robbins, darting Tom a brief look from his shrewd grey eyes.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Sarah as she took it from him with a dazzlingly sweet smile. As though she was blithely ignorant of any impropriety in her situation.

  It didn’t have the effect on Robbins she’d probably intended. On the contrary, his eyes grew flinty.

  ‘And how is my brother? The Colonel?’

  ‘Mortal bad, miss,’ said Robbins harshly. ‘When Major Flint told him how you and Major Bartlett here are fixed, he got very upset. Took two of us to keep him from coming straight round here with a horsewhip.’

  ‘Well, I’m very sorry he was upset,’ said Sarah with a toss of her head. ‘But would he rather I’d left one of his officers lying on the battlefield at death’s door?’

  ‘Couldn’t rightly say, miss, but what I do know is that the upset made the bullet move. Miss Endacott had to call for a surgeon to dig it out. Getting on nicely he was, until then. But now he’s the one at death’s door.’

  Sarah gasped as he turned on his heel and marched out.

  ‘I never meant to cause any harm,’ she said, turning pale. ‘I thought I was helping.’

  She looked down at the note in her hand, and tore it open feverishly.

  ‘Oh. Oh. Mary says... Oh, it is just as Robbins said. I thought he might have been exaggerating. Trying to scare me, but...’ She sat down in the chair by his bed as though someone had cut the legs from under her.

  ‘I didn’t even wonder why he hadn’t sent a letter. I just assumed he couldn’t know— That Mary would be shielding him from anything that might upset him. But I should have...’ She shook her head, staring wildly, and Tom thought probably sightlessly, round the room. ‘Not Justin, too. I can’t lose both of them.’

  Tom reached for her and pulled her on to the bed, right on to his lap. It was a measure of her distress that she didn’t make the slightest attempt to stop him. And it was a measure of his character that he was glad of the opportunity his colonel’s relapse had given him. Not that he wanted her distressed. Just that in moments like this, she turned to him. Sought comfort in his arms.

  And that might be because he was the only person here.

  But what did he care?

  About anything—when she was in his arms.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘What am I to do?’ she said. ‘What can I do? It’s all my fault. All my fault.’

  ‘Now you stop that right now.’ He cursed Robbins soundly and colourfully under his breath. ‘If Colonel Randall was really as dangerously ill as Robbins implied, surely Miss Endacott would have written to inform you before? She knows how much you care about your brothers. She was with you when you found him near the battlefield, wasn’t she?’

  The wild, desperate look faded from Sarah’s eyes.

  ‘You really think so?’ She looked at Tom in confusion. ‘But then why...?’

  ‘Robbins is extremely loyal t
o the Colonel. Your brother inspires that in the men. Gutter rats, who’ve never had anyone to look up to. Anyone they can trust. Until he showed them that a man in authority isn’t necessarily going to stamp on them, just because he can.

  ‘I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if Robbins is trying to ease the Colonel’s worries by making you feel guilty enough to run back to him and stay where he can keep an eye on you.’

  Her eyes filled with tears.

  ‘No! Surely he wouldn’t?’

  ‘Oh, I think he would.’

  ‘Oh!’ She sat up a little straighter. ‘What a mean, dirty, low sort of trick to play on me.’

  ‘That’s the way the Rogues work, Sarah. And, to be fair to Robbins, he probably thinks he’s doing you a favour, too. Getting you away from me.’

  Her mouth firmed into a tight line.

  ‘I wish everyone would stop trying to organise my life the way they think is best for me, without even asking me what I want.’

  She wriggled off his lap, got back on to the chair, and looked down at Mary’s note again.

  ‘Do you know, I think you may be in the right of it. Mary doesn’t say anything about it being my fault. Not at all. Which I’m sure she would if she thought it. She doesn’t like me very much. With just cause, I may add. I—’ She bit on her lower lip, then took a deep breath, lifted her chin and looked him straight in the eye.

  ‘I tricked her into going with me to the Duchess of Richmond’s ball, you see. Gussie was too poorly to take me and I was desperate to find Gideon. Because he’d been—’ She broke off. ‘Well, I knew I couldn’t attend without a chaperon. And I couldn’t think who else to ask. I thought she was the one person I might be able to persuade, because she was bound to want to see Justin one last time before they all went off to fight, just the way I wanted to see Gideon.

  ‘Only Gideon wasn’t there, so it was a waste. No—’ she sighed and shook her head ‘—it was worse than that. Justin ripped up at her. Accused her of stealing his lucky sword and insinuating herself into my good graces so she could get her hands on his title... Oh, all of it was so unjust. And it was all my fault. If I hadn’t made her take me, none of it would have happened. They would still be together. They’d be getting married.’