Chapter 9
After the noon meal, Ginny found herself at something of a
loose end. Alex and his officers had excused themselves politely and were now
ensconced in the parlor, presumably discussing matters not considered suitable
for the ears of a ward of Parliament. A sleepy air hung over the inn, where
even the servants were taking an afternoon nap. The kitchen was deserted,
although the fire glowed bright, and various kettles were hung in its heat.
Collecting a shallow wicker basket from one of the pantries, Ginny wandered
into the stableyard, coming across those soldiers who cared for the horses and
were billeted with their animals. They were lounging around in idle chat,
tossing spillikins onto the cobbles, smoking clay pipes, or snoring sonorously
in the mid-afternoon sun. Reluctant to disturb the peace of their indolent
afternoon, Ginny crossed the yard and went out into the lane. No one made any
attempt to stop her, but then she had permission to go where she pleased within
the immediate vicinity of the inn.
On the way to the church that morning, she had seen wild
strawberries growing in profusion along the hedgerow. Distilled strawberry
juice had many excellent properties, particularly when applied to the skin, and
had even been known to rid one of warts. The opportunity to pick a basketful
was not to be passed up. The sun was hot, and Ginny tied her kerchief over her
head, pushed her sleeves above her elbows,
and
hitched her skirt into her belt, leaving her ankles bare to
the
breeze. Voices coming from the fields beyond the
hedge
rea
ched her lazily in the still air, but
she hardly heard them, absorbed as she was in the pleasantly automatic task
that allowed her mind to meander down whatever pa
th
s it happened upon.
The lane twisted and turned, and she simply followed it,
oblivious of distance or direction until she heard the crunch of gravel behind
her, startling her out of her self-
a
bsorption.
Spinning round, she came up against a leather jerkin encasing a broad chest.
"What
little
wench
'ave we 'ere?" a voice boomed, as an arm encircled her waist.
"Look'ee 'ere, Bart."
Ginny pushed against the chest with the hand that was not
holding the basket, pulled backward against the arm where veins stood out like
whipcord. A coarse laugh greeted her struggles, and another man appeared,
grinning as he caught her chin. She smelled the beer on his bream, the rankness
of his
mouth
where only the stumps of
tee
th he
ld tenure,
the instant before his lips seemed to swallow hers.
At
this
point, more angry and disgusted
than
frightened, she swore at them, kicking viciously at
the calves of the man holding her. Her struggles seemed merely to amuse and
excite them, and, catching sight of the insignia on the shoulder of one of
them, she realized with horror mixed with relief that
they
were soldiers, members of Alex's brigade.
"
You
don't know what you are doing," she gasped
through
bruised and swollen lips as the lace at her bodice ripped.
"If your colonel finds out — "
"And who's to tell 'i
m
?"
one mocked. "Come on, now, village wenches 're always glad of a tumble.
Don't get enough of it these days, with only old men and little boys left at
home." They both roared with laughter as they pushed her backward into the
ditch, large hands groping hur
t
fully for her
breasts beneath the ripped bodice. "Like it rough, do you?"
Panic swelled in her chest, suffocating almost in its
intensity. They did not know who she was, and they were
going to hurt her. With a monumental heave, she
brought the basket of strawberries, upturned, down hard on the head of her
captor. It could do him no real damage, but the basket stuck across his
forehead, and strawberry juice ran down into his eyes, stinging and temporarily
blinding him.
With a bellow, he released her; the other one, his hands
occupied with the fastening of his britches, grabbed at her a minute too late.
Ginny kicked out, aiming with deadly accuracy for that part of his anatomy he
had been in the process of revealing. He collapsed with an anguished roar over the
injured member, and Ginny flew down the lane, headlong into Jed's arms.
"Easy now," Jed soothed, clicking his tongue in the
manner he used to gentle a frightened horse. "I was wonderin" where
you'd got to. It's all right now. Sit on the bank and wait for me." His
voice was calm, but when Ginny, biting back her sobs, looked into his face, she
saw that hit expression was grimly intense, and he was looking at her
momentarily disabled attackers.
She did as she was told, sitting on die bank as her legs
began to shake convulsively, now die adrenaline had stopped pumping. Jed, burly
though he was, would be no match for die other two, but curiously she had no
fear for him as he walked steadily toward them, just as she knew that she was
now safe. It was not hard to find the reason. With Jed’s arrival on the scene,
she was once again under the protective umbrella of Colonel Marshall.
Ginny could not hear what was said amongst the three of them,
but she could sense their fear as the two soldiers slunk away through a gap in
the hedge. Jed came back and stood looking at her for a moment. "Ye're
unharmed?"
"Aye." Ginny stood up, stiffening her wobbly knees.
"A bit shaken, but no worse." Biting her lip, she said awkwardly, “I
was lucky you came along."
"Seems
to me, you were doin' all right for yourself," Jed responded. "Ye're
a bonny fighter for a lass. But the colone’ll not be best pleased. Ye're a good
ways from the inn, mistress. This lane runs right through the encampment."
"
Does
he have to know?" Ginny despised herself even as she made the appeal.
"No, don't answer that. Forget that I asked."
A wintry smile touched the old soldier
'
s thin lips. "I'd not t
ell
him, but it's a matter of discipline. They can't get
away with it, now they know who you are. They'll think the colonel's gone soft
on 'em. Besides
,
" he fixed her with a gimlet
eye.
"
You wouldn't want it happenin' again,
I reckon."
Ginny flushed, shaking her head. "Of course not. But
I'll
not venture so far afield another time, either
.
"
"That
'
ll be as
well," Jed agreed.
"
Though I doubt you'll be gettin' the
chance again."
It was a statement that seemed to require no response, and
Ginny untied her kerchief, arranging it at her neck to cover the torn lace
before trudging back along the lane beside the now-silent Jed. When they
reached the inn, she told her companion
that
she would be in her chamber should anyone want her and, befo
r
e Jed could argue, had fled upstairs to the quiet and
privacy of her litt
l
e room under the eaves.
The thought of being in the same room when Jed recounted the
incident to his commander was too awful to contemplate, particularly in her
torn gown, with bruised lips and streaks of dirt on her face and arms. She had
time to change her gown, tidy her hair, and wash before the sound of boots was
heard on the stairs.
"
Mistress
Courtney—
u
h
—G
inny?"
It was Dicco
n
, sounding even more hesitant than
usual. Ginny opened the door. "The colonel wants you," the lieutenant
said uneasily.
"Mad as fire, is he?" Ginny said with an attempt at
bravado.
Diccon sighed and relaxed somewhat. "I haven't seen him
this angry in weeks," he confided.
"
You
are a comfort, Diccon," Ginny said with a rueful
little
smile. "I am already shaking
like a blancmanger."
"Oh, I am certain he is not angry with you," Diccon
said earnestly
,
standing aside on the cramped
landing so that she could precede him down the stairs. Ginny just laughed, a
hollow laugh of disbelief.
Alex was alone in the parlor, standing by the empty hearth.
He gestured a curt dismissal to his aide-de-camp, and t
h
e door closed with soft finality behind Diccon. Ginny
did not think she had ever seen anyone look quite so
implacably furious as Alex at this moment. The
green-brown eyes were metallic, the full, well-sculpted mouth sol in a thin
line, the lean, hard body taut as wire.
"
What
did they do to you?" His voice rasped harshly, like
skin on a grater.
"I got away before they
could do anything
,
" Ginny said, then coughe
d
to clear her throat where the words seemed to be
stuck in sand.
"
I
want to know exactly what happened, what was said, and what they did."
Ginny recounted the tale as best she could remember, keeping
her voice expressionless, her eyes anywhere but on the colonel.
"
They did not know who I was,"
she said at the last.
"
They thought I was a village
girl."
"
A
reasonable assumption," Alex said curtly.
"
Parliament's ward was under strict instructions to stay close
to the inn, and above all to keep clear of
the
camp. A wench, with a kerchief tied around her hair, sleeves rolled, and her
skirt hitched up, wandering in the middle of the camp would be considered fair
game."
Jed had presumably provided that uncomfortably accurate
description, Ginny reflected.
"
I was
picking strawberries," she said, deciding it was time to defend herself.
"
It was hot, and I was so absorbed I
did not realize how far I had gone."
"If that is your only excuse, I consider it woefully
inadequate," the colonel snapped. "Because of your careless disregard
for my express orders, I am now obliged to discipline two of my men. Morale is
low enough after yesterday as it is, without further blows."
"Supposing it had been a village girl they were intent
on raping
,
" Ginny fired back, "you
would not consider that a punishable offense?"
"W
ith luck, it would not have come to my attention," Alex
returned, with what Ginny considered appalling
pragmatism. "Anyway, any woman foolish enough to hang around two-hundred
deprived and lusting soldiers is asking for trouble?"
"That is so unjust!" Ginny stared at him, enraged
now and no longer defensive. "We invite assault and worse, do we? Is that
what you are saying?"
"On occasion" he said bluntly. "By ignoring
the baser facts of life. Lust is one of those facts. I told you I could not
guarantee your safety if you went near the encampment, and you chose to ignore
that warning. Do you think I say these things just because I enjoy the sound of
my own voice?"
He had adroitly managed to return matters to the point for which
she had no defense. Facts were facts; they had been explained to her, and she
had not taken them seriously enough. It was undeniably true. Had she taken them
seriously, she would have watched where she was going. Now, an innocent
afternoon of strawberry picking was about to have unpleasant repercussions for
men whom no one would really blame. According to the lights of their fellows,
and even their commander, they had behaved in a perfectly normal,
understandable fashion, and she had brought those moments of panic-stricken
horror, the foulness of that bodily contact, upon herself.
Wearily, she said, "If it was my fault, why do you not
forget the matter? I will take the blame upon myself, and no harm was done
after all, unless you consider the loss of a basket of wild strawberries, or a
few seconds of panic."
"You were frightened?" he spoke almost as if it was
the first time such a thing had occurred to him.
"Why should I have been frightened, when I invited the
attack?" Ginny retorted bitterly.
"I am sorry, I did not mean that. My first thought was
for your physical well-being. When I knew that you had not been hurt . .
."
Ginny shrugged. "May I go?" She turned toward the
door.
"Not just yet." Alex sighed. "You must
identify the men. Jed is bringing them here under guard. The business has been
started and must be concluded in the only way possible. You will bear your
part."
Ginny felt a chill at these words. There was a cold, resigned
finality about them that she knew she would not be able to gainsay.
Nothing more was said during the long moments of waiting.
Then the door was opened, and Jed marched in, wearing full armor as were the
four corporals surroundin
g
Ginny
'
s erstwhile attackers. Ginny turned away from them,
unwilling to see either pleading or accusation in their eyes.