An Arrangement of Sorts (14 page)

C
hapter
E
ight

“M
ight I ask you a rather personal question?” Moira asked when they had been riding for a while.

Nathan looked very surprised, but not at all hesitant. “Of course.”

“I don’t want to pry,” she told him earnestly, praying she would not offend.

He smiled. “If you are, I will tell you, or else I will pass on the question.”

She nodded, then bit her lip in hesitation. It was a terrible habit, but she tended to do so whenever she was nervous or uncertain. Her aunt had tried to forbid her from doing it, but she had not been successful. Someday, she supposed, she would wind up gnawing her lip quite off. But there was nothing for it.

“When you were… well, when I happened upon you suddenly this morning,” she corrected with a slight blush. She had recollected the memory quite often, but that little fact would remain her secret.

He waved off her embarrassment, but said nothing.

“I noticed that you have a scar on your back and chest that appear to be from the same wound. If it is not too personal, would you tell me how you got them?”

Nathan sighed and hesitated, and Moira could see the internal struggle that was waging in him. His expression was one of anxiety and of pain, his brow furrowed.

“Is it really so painful to talk about?” she asked quietly as she watched him.

“Not painful,” he said slowly, “just not very pleasant.”

“If you want to pass, Nathan, you can.” He owed her no explanation, and she should never have asked.

He shook his head, as if suddenly deciding. “No. No, I will share it. But I warn you, it’s not a very good story.”

“With a scar that looks like that, I hardly expected it to be,” she told him with what she hoped was understanding.

“I was nineteen when I joined the army,” he began. “I was mad with the glory of it all. I had lived a very dull life up to that point, or so I thought, and the idea of being in that uniform, of battling for King and country, sweating and fighting and sacrificing on the field of battle, was all I could think about. Of course, once in the army I learned that there were very few battles, if one was doing the job right…” He trailed off and shrugged. “It was not as glamorous as I had dreamed.”

“But safe,” Moira murmured almost to herself.

He nodded. “I did not understand the fortune that was ours. But after two years, it was time for battle and we were not ready. I had a few men under my command, but they were boys, really. Many could not even manage to fire their guns properly. I was terrified that I would lead them into something from which they would never return.”

“A legitimate concern, I think,” Moira soothed with a smile

He did not return it. Suddenly it occurred to Moira that the worst was yet to come. “I was… called away for a time… and when I returned, I found my men improved in battle essentials. At last, we would be able to be a proper force for the army. The day finally came when we could face battle, and we were ready. But our foes were numerous, much more than we had anticipated, more than even the reports had indicated. We were completely outnumbered. Looking back on it now, we should have retreated, waited for reinforcements. But there was no thought in my head but to attack. We would not turn from our duty. I would not abandon my responsibility.”

Moira listened carefully, a feeling of dread welling up in her. It was as though Nathan were back in those harried moments before the battle, and she was not here at all. His voice was distant, his eyes unfocused. Half of her wished that she would make him stop, but the other half silently urged him on.

“I turned to my men,” he continued in the same tone, “and gave my orders. They knew that my orders were to be obeyed without question; it is the nature of the army. But when I sounded the call, none moved. My highly trained and dedicated soldiers would not do it. They had talked boldly of the brave actions they would perform when called upon when they were safe around their campfires or boasting to young ladies infatuated with nothing more than the regimentals on their back, but when faced with an opportunity to prove themselves, they would not. I was enraged.”

She could only imagine. If there was one thing about Nathan Hammond that she knew well, it was his high opinion of duty. The idea that an entire company of men refused to do theirs would have offended him beyond reckoning.

“I called them all cowards and a disgrace to the banner they held so proudly. I said that if I could not have men that would do their duty and put the good of others before themselves, then I would go before them at the expense of my own life, as was the call of a soldier in His Majesty’s army. I turned from them and went to my horse.”

Moira’s mouth gaped as he spoke, never imagining that this was what had happened. Surely he did not…
surely
he would not have…

“And then I sounded the call once more, and rode towards our enemy. On my own.”

A gasp of horror passed Moira’s lips before she could stop it, and she brought a hand up to cover her mouth, but Nathan paid her no heed. “They didn’t follow you?” she asked, wondering if he would even hear her.

He shook his head in response. "Not at first. I believe they stood there for a moment, unable to believe what a stupid thing I had done. But the moment the first shots were fired, they abandoned their fear and charged after me. I suppose I ought to be grateful that they felt any sort of attachment to me at all. It would have been many bullets in me as opposed to only one otherwise. At the time, however, I would not have cared. The moment the bullet shot through my chest, I felt justified in my action. I had done my duty and paid the price for it as well. But once the fire spread through me and I fell to the ground, I realized what a fool I had been, and instantly I mourned the lives I knew I would lose.” He shook his head slowly and exhaled. “And then I lost consciousness and woke up some days later at a camp in Bedford where surgeons had been tending to me night and day. They should not have fought so hard for someone so foolish.”

“How many lives were lost?” she whispered.

He smiled grimly. “Only two. One was a hardened veteran whose heart gave out moments after battle, and the other was a fool who rushed out to defend me before being fully recovered from illness. Apparently, our company’s incomprehensible actions terrified the enemy and they feared our strength would overwhelm them.” He snorted softly in derision. “It was a lucky chance that they were. Disaster would have been inevitable, but on our side alone. Our commanding officers were so impressed with our astonishing victory that they gave me a commission and honored the entire company.”

“Nathan…” Moira murmured in an almost breathless manner. Such pain and depth of regret was unexpected, and his determination to run himself down was disconcerting for her, knowing what a strong man he was at all other times.

He either did not hear her or was simply ignoring her, for he went on. “My wound was grave enough to prevent me from taking command in such an active role again. I didn’t mind, I was hardly in a position to lead anyone. But I didn’t want to resign my commission. I had no prospects outside of the army, no hope of anything else to do in my life. I was therefore to be used to search out companies and soldiers that had either gone missing or had not been heard from. I was a reckless rider with a drive that was well suited for the hunt.” He finally looked at her, his eyes hard and his jaw tight. “That is how I came across your Mr. Carpenter and several others at times. I was able to track them down and…
convince
them to return to their regiment. I became well known for it, but it did not endear me to the men I found under those circumstances. It was late last spring, almost six years after receiving my wound, when I decided that enough was enough, and I left the army.”

“No wonder you wished to remain hidden,” she murmured faintly.

He offered her a stiff smile. “So that is the rather extended story of my scar, Moira. As I said, not a very pleasant tale.”

“What could possibly have led you to do something like that?” she asked, utterly baffled still at his daring actions.

Instantly, his expression shuttered and his eyes darkened. “Pass,” he muttered, looking away.

It was one word, just one simple word, and one that she herself had insisted upon and had used, but that one word spoke volumes. What could be worse than what he had already shared?

“Does it still hurt?” she asked in small voice, determined to keep him talking, if at all possible. “Your scar, I mean.”

“No.”

Moira bit her lip again, wishing she had never asked about any of it.

No doubt Nathan was very much looking forward to returning to his former life of privacy, away from annoying women and invasive questions that he had been more than obliging enough to answer.

But Moira could not help but admit, if only to herself, that she thought more of him now that she knew him better than she could have possibly imagined she would. And for that alone, she could not regret her actions.
   

The silence dragged on and on, and in it Nathan found only painful reminders of the past and the knowledge that he was a fool. Neither one of those things would make Moira very comfortable, should she have known, and he had had quite enough of it.

“Can we talk of something else, please?” he asked softly with a sigh.

Moira peered up at him from beneath her long lashes, biting her lip. “Would you rather I be silent? I have forced you to talk quite enough for one day, so I would more than understand if you would care for some peace.”

He surprised himself by smiling. “No, as a matter of fact, I would not care for silence. I don’t want to reflect any more today.”

She returned his smile with a bright one of her own, and his spirits lifted at the sight of it. “Well, in
that
case…”

“Oh, good heavens,” he moaned in mock-agony, “what have I just done?”

She frowned at him. “Hush, you. I have one simple question.”

He raised a brow. “And that is?”

She made a face. “Do I really have to wear a bonnet to be proper?”

He chuckled, more amused than he thought he would be. “Yes, Moira. You are quite shocking without it.”

“I shock everybody, that has nothing to do with my headwear.”

His chuckles turned into full laughs and it took him a moment to recover.

“Surely country rules are not so stringent,” Moira added, still looking discontented. “I can be more casual here, yes?”

He was not going to answer that particular question, as her definition of casual worried him slightly. “You only really have to wear them in London, I suppose. That is where fashion and propriety matter the most.”

She suddenly looked a little whimsical. “I don’t remember London.” She shrugged one shoulder. “It would be nice to see it with adult eyes and appreciate it properly.”

“I will take you,” he said instantly, offering her a smile. He would enjoy taking her about the city, showing her the sights that had fascinated him in his youth, and letting her experience the wonders that could be had there.

She looked up at him sadly. “When would we be able to do that, Nathan?”

That shook him out of his pleasant imaginations. She was correct. They were traveling to find her betrothed so that she could be married and start the life she had been waiting years for. They would never be free to associate outside of public settings. He would never be able to show her London or any other place he might want to.