The Officer and the Proper Lady (17 page)

‘Oh dear; I mean, yes, of course.'

‘Captain Grey has called and he will bring the doctor later this morning,' Julia said, calmly ushering her mother out of the room. ‘We can talk this afternoon, after luncheon.'

So, he had found himself a managing wife, had he? Hal gritted his teeth while George got him sitting up, then found that Julia had sent up a vast break fast. A wife who did not believe in gruel for invalids, thank goodness. He had, he realized, committed himself to a wife who was infinitely better than he deserved. But what she had done to deserve him, other than be open-hearted, brave and generous, he could not imagine.

 

‘It would appear from what Dr Gregson says that I am going to live, with all my limbs attached,' Hal said calmly. ‘I have, beside my career as an officer, a small estate in Buckinghamshire which is in good heart and which brings me sufficient to maintain a wife and family in comfort. I can establish you, ma'am, in the country or in town, which ever is more agreeable to you. I will, of course, under take Phillip's education.'

He paused, and Julia decided he would probably show as much emotion briefing fellow officers before an engage
ment. The effect it was having on her mother was, however, miraculous. She was positively beaming. No, she could not have refused Hal's offer—his order—to marry her. Whatever her scruples and the second thoughts she'd been having for the past day, her reputation, Hal's own sense of honour and her family's needs must over-ride them.

‘As to the ceremony, I would propose the English church in a week's time.'

‘Hal! You cannot possibly be fit by then,' Julia broke in, unable to maintain her pose of meek attentiveness any longer.

‘I will be well enough to stand up for half an hour,' he countered. ‘As you know, my colonel called just after the doctor. I am ordered home to re cu per ate and I would suggest the sooner we sail after the ceremony, the better. I regret that I will need to trouble you, Julia, to write the necessary letters to arrange that.'

‘Oh my goodness.' Her mother, it seemed, was only thinking about the ceremony. ‘There is so much to do! I will begin making lists at once. Your trousseau, my dear!'

‘I will give you a draft on my bank,' Hal added, sending Mrs Tresilian almost running from the room to start work, without a thought to her un chaperoned daughter left behind in the bedroom.

 

Julia told herself that her mother's state of flustered happiness should make her happy too, but inside her stomach was a cold knot of misery. Hal, no longer the informal, friendly man he had been in the hovel, was approaching their marriage with a cool efficiency that frightened her.

‘What is wrong?' He was sitting up against the piled pillows. To her critical eyes, he looked too fine-drawn and pale. Perhaps it was just the strength of the afternoon light flooding in through the window. She got up and went to sit in the
chair by his bedside, trying to calm herself with the doctor's reassuring words.

‘Wrong?' She made rather a business of smoothing down her skirts. He had never made any pretext of loving her, it was unfair to feel resentful that he was treating their coming union as anything but an arranged marriage. ‘Nothing, really. It is just that I am concerned that you are overdoing things. It is only four days since you were wounded. We are comfortable here; your friends can visit you. I am sure that however eager they are to see you, your family would rather you waited until you were stronger.'

‘And I am rushing you into marriage,' he said dryly. ‘You are missing the opportunity for planning and shopping and looking forward to a wonderful day with all your friends.'

‘I do not care about that.' Indignant, Julia looked up and met Hal's frowning gaze. ‘But it is too soon.'

‘Are you frightened?'

‘Frightened?' She frowned back. What on earth had she to be frightened of now Hal was out of danger? ‘Of Hebden, you mean? No. Perhaps I should be, but it doesn't seem quite real—a feud and vengeance. And I should be frightened of meeting your family, but I know I will like them.'

‘Of me,' he said, holding her gaze until she realized what he meant. The blush seemed to rise from her toes.

‘No!' He wouldn't release her, however much she wanted to look away. ‘Of course not.'

‘You are very innocent, Julia.'

‘Not that innocent,' she pro tested. ‘I know what…happens. I cannot pretend it does not sound strange, but I am sure I will soon become accustomed.' And the sooner, the better, she acknowledged, shocking herself. She wanted the wedding delayed for Hal's sake, but she wanted it quickly, for her own.

Making love did, indeed, seem a very peculiar business,
but her body was sending her quite clear messages that it under stood more about it than she did. The proximity of Hal, the haunting memory of his naked form, the vivid impression of that kiss, the very fact that they were in a bedroom alone together, all produced that strange, restless sensation and an almost irresistible need to touch him.

This marriage was going to be difficult enough, but perhaps if they could achieve an understanding through intimacy, that would help with everything else.

‘I hope so,' he said, turning his head away, restless, on the pillow. ‘I hope that you will find marriage pleasurable.'

‘At least you know what you are doing,' she said, nerves making her blurt out exactly what she was thinking.

There was a long silence, then he said, with what she could have sworn was irritation in his voice, ‘I do not know what I am doing with virgins.'

‘I should hope not,' Julia said, trying to make a joke of it. Hal did not reply. Tentative, she reached out and touched his forearm, the left, uninjured, one, ‘Hal, I wasn't frightened before, but you are scaring me now.'

H
er confession brought Hal's head round and he smiled, a rather rueful twist of his lips. Julia let out a breath as he moved his hand to catch hers. ‘Come here then, and let me see if I can soothe your nerves.'

‘I rather doubt that would be the result,' she murmured, moving to perch cautiously on the edge of the bed.

‘You are going to have to do all the work,' he pointed out and the cold knot inside her began to melt at the sight of the old, familiar laughter in his eyes.

‘Very well.' Cautiously, she placed her right hand on the pillow by his shoulder and leant down, eyes closed, too shy to watch his eyes change colour from troubled grey to intense blue, as they had when he had kissed her at the ball.

Julia was very aware of the smell of him, an exciting maleness beneath the overlaying scents of clean skin, soap, a herbal salve. She leaned closer and smelled the coffee on his breath and felt the heat of his body as her breasts touched the thin white cotton of his night shirt.

And then she found his lips, warm and firm and smiling
under hers and she hesitated, unsure what to do next, confused by the difference that being above him made.

‘Go on,' he mouthed silently, and her lips read the words. He had not closed his mouth on that last syllable.

Dare she? Julia let her mouth press a little more, then, when he did not move, she let the tip of her tongue slide out, between her own lips, between his. She froze, shaken by her own daring, by the intensity of initiating such a simple thing, and then Hal opened to her and his tongue found hers and touched and teased, and his hand came up to cup her shoulder, and it was all she could do not to sink down onto his bandaged chest with the need to be closer, tighter, totally entwined.

It was too much, and she needed him to guide her. She needed to hold on to him, but she did not dare in case she hurt him. She was alarming herself with what she wanted, needed. And she had no idea what to do, except that his mouth angled under hers as though seeking something. Something she had no idea how to give.

Hal was not used to virgins and the thought did not seem to make him happy, she had realized that. She must be doing this all wrong. But if she asked him, he would be too kind to tell her.

Julia sat back, stumbled to her feet, knocked into the chair and backed away, her palm pressed to her lips. Her limbs seemed all over the place, not in her control at all. ‘Oh. Oh, I…' Hal's eyes were intense upon her, his body still, as it had been when he had been in such pain and stillness was the only way he could deal with it.

She felt wanton and confused, excited and ashamed of herself and humiliated by what must be a hopeless lack of natural instincts. Giving up on the struggle to find any words to express what she felt, Julia fled.

 

Hal put his right hand on the pew end and tried to take some of the weight off his leg. The resulting pain in his arm and side made him hiss, unable to say just what he felt under the very nose of the English chaplain.

‘Here she comes,' Will said, turning from his scrutiny of the aisle and Hal forgot the pain. ‘The place looks like a hospital ward, there is so much bandaging and so many crutches on display.'

‘At least they are here,' Hal murmured back. ‘We didn't lose all our friends.' It was not the thing to turn round and watch the bride coming up the aisle; Will, who was taking his role as groomsman seriously, had told him so. Then there was a murmur, a rustle of silk, and regardless of instructions, he turned.

Julia was on the arm of the Baron vander Helvig, a slender figure in pale primrose, her hands full of yellow and white roses and the green filigree of ferns, her face hidden by a fall of cream Brussels lace that had been Lady Geraldine's bride gift.

She looked pure and fragile and ex qui site, this girl who had defied her mother and convention, who had braved the horrors of the battlefield to save him. Hal felt like a criminal who had been rewarded for his crimes when he should have been hanged. Somehow, he vowed, he was going to make this up to her, be worthy of her. She faltered as she saw his face, then took the last few steps that brought her to his side and the baron laid her hand in his.

‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here together…'

How many weddings had he sat through in the past few years? A dozen? The words and the meaning had flowed over his head, even when it had been his brother standing at his side, taking his vows. Shut in parson's pound, parson's mouse trap, yoked—all the slang expressions that had summed
up how he had felt about marriage, and yet now it felt like a relief, an objective gained. It was very strange.

He repeated his vows, thinking about them properly for the first time, hearing Julia's words spoken so steadily, directly to him as though they were alone. Then Will produced the ring, and Hal slipped it on her finger and listened with total concentration as the chaplain pronounced the words that bound him to this woman.

‘You may kiss the bride.'

The last time they had kissed, she had run from him, trembling and distressed. After that he had sent for Will, demanded to be taken to the Hôtel de Flandres where order was gradually being restored and he was able to have his old room back.

Mrs Tresilian had been relieved to have him at a respectable distance. Julia had been silent, except for an attempt to send George with him. But he had refused. The groom, given a comprehensive description of Hebden, the attempt on Hal's life and the possible dangers to Julia, had settled down with his shotgun to keep guard at Place de Leuvan.

Now Julia turned to him as he took the edge of lace and lifted it care fully back over the crown of her bonnet. She was pale and her eyes were huge and soft with an emotion he hoped was happiness. Or at least contentment. Perhaps that was the most he could hope for at first, to make her content.

Then she smiled at him, and Hal found he could smile back as he bent to kiss her. A sentimental sigh went round the congregation, Julia became pink and rather charmingly flustered and he turned for the endless walk down the aisle.

Bless her, he thought, as he glanced down at the brim of her bonnet. The tip of her nose was all he could see of his wife's face.
She doesn't fuss, or suggest we go out of the side
door; she just lets me set the pace as though I wasn't half-crippled.

Faces on either side smiled at them, a few sentimental ladies sniffed into dainty handkerchiefs. Many of the men there had bandaged heads and arms in slings, but they were, thank God, all there. Or almost all. Major Jameson was still in his bed, but they thought he would survive the loss of his leg. Young Lieu tenant Hayden was dead, never to reduce the regimental dinner to gales of laughter with his female impersonation, never again to scrounge everyone else's second helping of pudding.

Six of his surviving sergeants and troopers were outside, sabres lifting in a flash of steel as he and Julia came out onto the steps. They walked through the arch of blades and he realized that what he was feeling—the strange, intense pressure in his chest—was happiness. Which was unexpected.

The baron's newest barouche was there at the foot of the steps, George grinning as he held the door. Hal helped Julia in, then sank down with a sigh of relief on the soft squabs beside her.

‘I thought I might feel different,' she said, half laughing at herself as George climbed back onto the box. Rose petals floated in on top of them, Hal was hit by a painful shower of rice. ‘Oh, my bouquet.' She stood up, turned her back and threw it so that it vanished into the press of laughing girls on the steps. ‘I meant it for Felicity,' she said, sitting down again with rather a bump as the carriage moved off. ‘Did she catch it?'

‘I have no idea,' Hal confessed. ‘I was watching you. You look beautiful, Mrs Carlow.'

‘Oh.' Julia blushed. ‘Thank you. I have to say, you look very handsome, Major Carlow.' She sent him a speculative look from under her lashes. ‘How on earth did you get into that tight uniform with all the bandages?'

‘I've lost weight and I bribed the surgeon to come and bandage me at the same time as I was getting into my uniform. So the bandages are tight and as thin as possible and my batman—who has turned up un scathed, I'm glad to say—inched me into my breeches.'

‘I am glad he is coming with us,' Julia remarked, ‘or I would have to cut them off you.'

‘That would almost be worth sacrificing the breeches for,' Hal murmured, then could have bitten his tongue as the pretty pink blush became red-cheeked embarrassment.

‘I hope the hotel in Gent is a good one,' she remarked after a pause, her voice con strained. ‘The baron recommended it, but goodness knows what it is like after all the people who fled there have been crammed in.'

‘I am sure it will be perfect,' Hal said. ‘And it is only for one night, after all.' Lord, there he went again. Mentioning the wedding night for one thing, then speaking as though it were a matter of in difference what their accommodation would be like for such a significant occasion. ‘The barge to Ostend will be very pleasant,' he promised, pushing on rather desperately. ‘I have travelled by them before. There's a large public salon, and the food is excellent. And Phillip will enjoy it.'

‘Yes, of course.' Julia was recovering her poise a little. ‘It is kind of the baron to take Mama and Phillip to Gent. We are quite a grand cavalcade, are we not? This carriage and then the baron's and then the luggage with our maid and your batman. Oh yes, and the groom with the horses.'

‘He'll go direct to Ostend and wait for us.' Hal gave some thought to that. Trooper Godfrey, who had been so sick, had recovered suspiciously fast once Harris was dead. The man was unable to account for his violent stomach pains, but Hal had his suspicions that Harris had poisoned him in order to take over the care of Chiltern Lad and get closer to his
target. Godfrey had jumped at the chance to accompany Hal as groom and Hal had felt a responsibility to him, so at least he did not have to worry about the horses.

‘I am glad Mama has decided to go straight to my aunt and uncle,' Julia said after a few miles of silent travel. ‘Your poor family will be surprised enough to have me arrive.'

‘They will be de lighted to see you,' Hal said warmly, convinced of that, at least. ‘Mama has been nagging me to get married for years, and she and Verity will be missing Honoria, I am sure. And Nell, Marcus's wife, is increasing again, so she will be glad of the company of another married woman of her own age. My father is not in very good health, so you will find him a trifle quiet and retiring, but you must not take that as any reflection of his feelings towards you.'

‘You are close to him?' Julia asked, with a faint air of self-consciousness that had him wondering how he had betrayed the constant edge to the relationship with his father.

‘No, not very,' he admitted. ‘I am not, as you may imagine, the ideal son. But he will be pleased with me for finding you and will feel I have done something right for once.'

‘I hope so,' she said with what he could only interpret as a brave smile. ‘I have to confess that I am glad we will be going into the country almost immediately. I think I will find London rather overpowering.'

‘We'll just break our journey in town. They are sure to be at Stanegate Court,' Hal said reassuringly.

‘But you haven't heard from them?'

‘No,' he admitted. ‘Not since just before the battle. I expect the mails are clogged with all the traffic, or a bag went astray.' But either scenario left the possibility that something had gone very wrong at home, or that his family had no idea whether he had survived the battle or not. He had dictated letters, but no response had come. It was possible that he was
going to surprise his family—not just by appearing on the doorstep, but with a new wife into the bargain.

‘I see,' Julia said. ‘We could be quite a shock then.' Hal tried to interpret her expression, but all he could read was polite interest.

 

Julia's stomach lurched. She tried to tell herself it was simply the effect of not having eaten since just before the ceremony so they could make an immediate start, but she knew it was not. She was here in a strange hotel, alone with her new husband. It did not matter that somewhere else in the building Mama and Philip were settling into their rooms.

‘Thank you, Maria.' The maid finished fastening the row of buttons on the evening dress and patted a loose hairpin into place. Julia regarded her reflection in the long glass. Her neckline was lower than she was used to, more suitable for a married lady. She resisted the temptation to tug it upwards and then caught a glimpse of the bed in the glass. If Hal came to her tonight, then in a few hours…

The wonderful glow that had seemed to fill her through out the wedding ceremony had all gone now. A long carriage ride with the man who was now her husband had replaced that romantic haze with so many sources for apprehension that she could hardly manage to worry about them all at once.

It seemed there was a strong possibility that Hal was going to turn up and introduce his bride to his parents when they had no idea she even existed, or before they had the opportunity to become resigned to the fact that she had neither wealth nor grand connections to bring to the match. Perhaps, she tried to console herself, they would be so happy to have Hal home, alive, even if wounded, that they would pay her no attention.

Then there was her anxiety about Hal. Was he wrong to under take this journey so soon? She was his wife, and she felt
she had failed in her responsibility to care for her husband—but the wretched man would not let her so much as ask about his wounds, let alone fuss over them. He wouldn't even wear a sling.

And then there was the prospect of the rest of the evening, of the wedding night, stretching in front of her. That bed. Before the duchess's ball, she had felt she could speak to Hal about anything; now her tongue seemed to freeze in her mouth before she could get out the simplest sentence, let alone ask him where he was going to sleep tonight.