The Sergeant's Lady (11 page)

She wasn’t sure she
wanted
the horse—riding would speed their journey back, and she wanted to make her time alone with Will last as long as possible—but they had a duty to inform their army about their comrades’ captivity. Will was a soldier, and Anna belonged to the army, too, in a way. Duty could never be ignored.

***

Will grinned at the sight of the placidly grazing horse. “Our luck’s still in, I see.”

Anna—despite his best efforts, he no longer thought of her as Mrs. Arrington—looked much struck by the notion. “We
have
been lucky, have we not? Do you suppose we can ride him?”

“As long as he’s sound, I don’t see why not. He looks calm.”

“That’s the beauty of cavalry horses. Nothing rattles them. I’d never suggest riding double on one of my brother’s Arabs, and even the ponies we had at Dunmalcolm when I was a girl had tempers, but a horse like that will tolerate anything.”

“Ride double?” he said. “I’d thought you’d ride and I could walk.”

He began to climb down the hill, offering his hand to help her over the steeper sections. He couldn’t honestly claim that he regretted kissing her in the cave, but they had to be careful. They must nip this in the bud, or they’d end up lying together before they reached the army. He couldn’t allow that.

“Why?” she asked. “That’s not much faster than both of us walking. If we both ride, we really will be beyond their reach.”

She had a point. Maybe the enforced physical closeness of sharing the horse was worth it if it got them back to their world, beyond temptation’s reach, a day or two sooner.

“We can try,” he said.

When they reached the valley floor, the horse wandered over of his own accord to greet them.

“You
can
ride, I suppose?” she asked as she caught the horse by the bridle and stroked its nose.

“Of course.” He felt vaguely insulted that she felt the need to ask. “I was meant for a farmer, remember? I doubt I could manage your brother’s Arabs, but I can stay on an ordinary horse well enough.” He hoped he spoke truth. He had hardly ridden at all since his enlistment, but surely it wasn’t the sort of skill one forgot.

She blushed. “I meant no insult. Only I’d always supposed that men who knew how to ride must end up in the cavalry.”

Will laughed. “I’ve no regrets on that score. With all due respect to the Sixteenth, I’d rather be in the Rifles.” He moved to the horse’s near side. “Keep hold of him while I check his hooves.” Still willing, the gelding lifted his foot for inspection when Will leaned against his shoulder. “When an infantry regiment is out recruiting, they’re hardly looking to send anyone to the cavalry because he knows horses, any more than they’d send him to the navy if he knew boats. They’ve a quota to fill. It was regular infantry that came to town, so a regular I became.”

“Not a rifleman?”

“They didn’t exist yet—not until a few months later. When they started the experimental corps, my regiment was asked to send men, and I was chosen.”

“Because you had the makings of a good marksman?”

He moved on to the next hoof. “Hardly. Because I was trouble, and it was an easy way to be rid of me.”

“You, trouble? I find that difficult to believe.”

“It’s true. I was insubordinate, and a pest.”

“Really? I can’t imagine you fomenting insurrection or disobeying orders.”

“I didn’t—I was just a pest. I was sixteen, with opinions about everything under the sun and no sense of when to keep quiet. It’s a wonder I escaped flogging.”

“And yet now you’re a sergeant.”

“Well, I’m not sixteen anymore. I hope I’m a little wiser now. And the Rifles are a different sort of regiment. They like a man who can think for himself—within bounds of reason.” He finished his inspection of the hooves. “He looks sound. I’ll check the saddle now.”

“Maybe his rider brought dinner along.”

“That’s my hope.”

He pulled back the sheepskin cover of the equipment roll at the saddle’s pommel to reveal a rolled-up blanket, whose heft promised treasures within. As he set the blanket on the ground and crouched down to unroll it, he felt her eyes upon him and decided he might as well get certain things out into the open.

“Ma’am,” he said, not meeting her eyes, “we can’t keep forgetting ourselves like we did in that cave. We can’t pretend that we’re anything other than what we are.”

“I’m not pretending anything.”

He looked up then and found himself arrested by the angry sparkle in her green eyes. “Yes, you are. Otherwise why would a lady like you want anything to do with a man like me?”

“Because of who you are,” she snapped. The horse snorted and stirred at her tone, and she stroked its nose soothingly.

“But I’m nobody.”

She shook her head decisively. “You are
not
. What’s more, you don’t believe that yourself. You’re as proud a man as I’ve ever met, and that’s saying something.”

He spread his hands in acknowledgement. “But I’m nobody
to you
. Believe me, Mrs. Arrington, if you weren’t a lady—”

“No!”

“What?”

“No! You will never again call me by that name.”

“Does my lady command me not to?”

“I’m not commanding, I’m begging. You’ve no notion how sick I am of the very sound of Arrington. Please. While we’re out here, with no one to hear, call me Anna.”

He knew he should say no, but how would he feel, if he were saddled with a name he loathed? “Anna,” he said.

“Thank you. Will.”

An embarrassed silence ensued. To cover his own half of the awkwardness, he unrolled the blanket, discovering tools for caring for the horse—a curry-comb, a hoof pick and the like—and, blessedly, half a loaf of bread, salty Spanish ham and a packet of dates. He popped one into his mouth and handed another to Anna. She thanked him and chewed it blissfully, while he repacked the blanket roll and restored it to its place in front of the saddle.

“How do we manage this?” he asked. “Will you ride behind me? It’d have to be astride.”

“I don’t think so,” she said. “I’ve ridden astride before—it’s the only way to manage bareback on a Highland pony—but I wouldn’t like to attempt it dressed like this.”

“Let me guess. When you rode the ponies, you borrowed a pair of breeches from one of your cousins.”

“Yes. But I wasn’t quite the tomboy that makes me sound. My cousins were my only companions. It was keep pace with them, or sit alone in the schoolroom.”

“I understand. My only brother is a dozen years my elder, so when I was little I played with my sisters. I believe my father was appalled to catch me dressing a doll and agreeing with my sister Molly that she must be a beautiful princess to have such fine lace on her gown.”

Anna dissolved into helpless laughter. Will loved that laugh and would’ve told far more embarrassing stories to invoke it. But he shook a finger at her in mock warning. “Don’t you dare whisper that story to anyone. If you do, I’ll…I’ll…”

Still dangling the horse’s reins in one hand, she drifted closer to him. “What will you do, Will?”

Those green eyes of hers!
“I’ll never kiss you again.” Not that he meant to, in any case.

Now her eyes shone, and the dimple on her left cheek appeared. “Then my lips are sealed.”
 

“Let me seal them for you.” And despite his best intentions he kissed her then and there. Her lips were soft and yielding, and he could taste the sweetness of the date she’d just eaten. He tore himself free. “We’re hopeless.”

“A lost cause.”

“We can’t do more than kiss.”

“I know,” she assured him

But he had a feeling she intended to further test his resolve. God help him, but she was a temptress. She meant to be, he could tell, but he doubted she grasped how much power she had over him. There was something about her—not quite innocence. She was too bitter for that. It was more of a rawness and uncertainty that led her to constantly test his desire to make sure it was still there. Just what had her late and unlamented husband done to her?

Maybe he’d find out before this journey was over, but for now they needed to get moving. He returned to the problem of sharing the horse. “Not astride, then. What do you suggest?”

“I’ll sit sideways in front of you,” she said. “It’s the most comfortable way to manage carrying two with these cavalry saddles, though it does enforce a certain, ah, intimacy.”

“Intimacy?”

She blushed, looking up at him through her thick lashes. “It’s the slope of the pommel. I’ll be more in your lap than in front of you.”

He felt the beginnings of arousal at the thought alone. “I see.”

“At least neither of us finds the other loathsome.”

“No, not loathsome.” He considered the horse, the saddle and the woman. “Well, we’d better get on with it if we’re to put any distance between us and this place by nightfall.” He put his left foot in the stirrup and swung into the saddle. At least he hadn’t forgotten how to mount. The stirrups were a bit short, so he leaned down to let the leathers out a notch.

He rode in a slow circle, reining to a halt beside a flat-topped boulder about two feet high. The horse was as good-natured as Will had expected, but also tough-mouthed. He hoped Anna wouldn’t think he knew no better than to saw at the reins, but this fellow wouldn’t respond to more subtle cues.

“Tough-mouthed, is he?” she asked.

“Very.” She understood.

“Most cavalry horses are. I’m afraid I won’t be fit to ride an ordinary well-trained saddle horse when I’m home.”

“Come here,” he said. “The rock will do for a mounting block.”

She scrambled onto it and smiled up at him. He extended a hand. “Just climb on my foot.” He scooted back in the saddle to make room for her.

She took his hand in her right hand, set her left on the pommel, stepped onto his foot and boosted herself up, swiveling her body until she sat almost as though she were in a sidesaddle, body facing forward, right leg braced over the steep pommel.

She hadn’t exaggerated the intimacy. His thighs pressed against her backside, his arm encircled her waist—and his cock responded predictably. He wanted to apologize, but what could he possibly say?

The front of a cavalry saddle could hardly be called a comfortable seat, but Anna tried to make the best of it. Will managed the reins with his right hand, while his left clasped her securely around the waist. It was indeed intimate, as was his unmistakable arousal. She tried to edge away. But with the saddle’s high pommel forcing her backward, avoidance was impossible. She took a deep breath. This was Will, not Colonel Robuchon, nor even Sebastian. And after all, the evidence of his desire was…flattering.

She could tell, however, that he was not comfortable in the least. He kept shifting his weight, edging back in the saddle. The gelding danced, and Anna curled her fingers tighter around the pommel.

“Sorry.”

Will’s voice held a world of misery and discomfort, and Anna determined to distract him. “Have you been through this part of the country before?”

She felt him relax—at least, the strong, lean body she rested against was a trifle less rigid, even if certain parts still stood to attention.

“Afraid I’ll get us lost?” he teased.

“No, not especially. I was simply curious when we’re likely to see signs of civilization.”

“Civilization with food to sell?”

“Exactly.”

“I haven’t marched through this exact area. But if my reckoning is right, we should get back to familiar land—land with farms and towns—sometime tomorrow.”

“I’m glad.”

“And if not, don’t worry. We won’t starve if there’s game to be had. Have you ever skinned a hare?”

She shuddered. “No.”

“I didn’t think so, but with the kind of adventures you had with your cousins…”

“We never went quite that far. They took me fishing, but not hunting.” And there had always been servants to clean the fish, but Anna felt no need to remind Will of that.

“Ah, yes,” he said. “I remember. That very first day, you told me you missed the trout from the lake at your castle.”

“Nothing like it in the world. Though I must say, the local trout tastes quite good, too.”

“We’ve nothing to rig for tackle, so don’t expect to enjoy it on this journey.”

“My uncle had a gillie who could catch fish from a stream with his bare hands,” she said wistfully.

“Well, I can’t do
that
, not even to please my lady.” His grip on her waist tightened, and she threaded her fingers with his and leaned back to rest her head on his shoulder. He pressed a kiss onto her temple.

Her breath caught, and she swallowed on a lump in her throat. “How long do you think it’ll take us to get back, now that we have the horse?” she asked.

“Another two days, maybe. It depends how far the army has marched since we left.”

Anna began to regret the horse. “Only two days?”

He loosened his grip at her waist and sat back in the saddle. “It’s just as well. We can’t let ourselves get used to this.”

“I know.” And she did know. But she didn’t intend to get used to it—only to make good use of the short time granted them.

They stayed silent for a time, each lost in thought. Will rode well, though he didn’t have the impeccable posture nor the easy management of the reins that Sebastian, Alec, or her brother James had. In fairness, she wasn’t sure any of them could’ve done much better on a tough-mouthed horse over rocky terrain with a woman perched in his lap.

“You’re a good rider,” she told him.

“Thank you. I rode whenever I could, growing up. We never had horses just for riding, but I made sure to be around whenever there was an errand to be run or a horse that needed to go to the farrier.”

She imagined the boy he must have been, lurking about the stables, lively and curious. “I’m still surprised you’re here. You had a good life in store for you at home.”

“I was sixteen. Didn’t you want to run away from the path laid out for you, at that age?”

“On the contrary. I could hardly wait to begin. Wanting to run away came later.”

“But did you know what life had in store for you then?”

“Only in the most general sense,” she said. “I knew that in a year or two, I would go to London, be introduced to society and seek a husband, but I had no idea who he might be or where I might go after I married. It all seemed a grand adventure.”

“That’s the difference. When I was sixteen, I thought I knew what would happen every day of my life if I lived to be eighty. I’d marry Lizzie Carter, we’d have half a dozen children, we’d inherit her father’s farm, and I’d spend my life raising sheep.”

She laughed. “Was the thought of Miss Carter so unbearable?”

“Not at all. We were walking out together and sneaking into her father’s barn to kiss whenever we thought no one was looking.”

“But you ran away.”

“I did. One day I overheard my father talking to Mr. Carter. They agreed how good it was to see Lizzie and me take an interest in each other. Mr. Carter promised to do handsomely by me when we wed, and my father thanked him, because all the advantage of the match was on my side, what with Lizzie Mr. Carter’s only heir and I one of so many that he couldn’t do much for me.”

She began to understand how his youthful panic had arisen. “Oh, dear.”

“And then Mr. Carter said that my father must not fret, because I was such a clever, likely lad. He’d had his eye on me for years, because he wanted to make sure the farm would stay in good hands. He’d done all he could to encourage Lizzie to think of me, without pushing too hard, because children
do
like to think it’s their own idea.”

Anna laughed. “And for that you joined the army.”

“Well, it did take the wind out of my sails. I thought I was so daring, to kiss a girl and maybe a little more, only to find out it was all her father’s idea.”

“I can imagine. Only—I hope your Lizzie didn’t have a broken heart.”

“I fretted over that for a while after I enlisted. But then my sister Molly wrote that Lizzie was engaged, and that it was much too vain of me to worry that any girl would break her heart over someone like me.”

“I don’t know about
that
. And, if I’d known there was a girl involved, I would’ve guessed that you loved the wrong one and had to flee when there was trouble over it.”

“Believe it or not, I’ve never fallen for the wrong girl before.”

He stressed the word “before,” and Anna leaned back against him. His arm tightened around her waist again, and she shivered at the intimacy, so few layers of clothing separating his hand from her bare skin.

Will chuckled ruefully. “It’s been eleven years since I enlisted,” he said. “Ample time to reflect upon what a fool I was to join the
army
because I wanted more control over my life.”

“It is rather ironic.”

“But I don’t regret it, mind. I’m sure it would’ve been a good life, but so is this. If I’d stayed home, I never would’ve gone farther than London.”

“That was part of the appeal of marrying an officer,” she confessed. “When I married Sebastian, I dreamed of seeing India someday. My father made his fortune there, and my brother still has the treasures he brought home. I always wanted to see where it all came from. But it’s strange. I don’t want to go there anymore—just back to Dunmalcolm to stay.”

“I don’t think it’s strange, after what you’ve been through. But after a few years, you might decide you want India after all.”

“Perhaps.”

By then the sun was sinking toward the horizon. “We must stop soon,” Will said. “I don’t care to ride a strange horse over strange country in the dark.”

The thought of making camp in the approaching darkness sent a thrill of desire and terror down her spine. If she wanted Will—and if she ever meant to find out if Sebastian had been right—she must make an overture, for clearly Will meant to be proper and self-denying. But she had no idea what to do, and she didn’t know how she would bear it if he too turned against her.

***

As twilight began to settle over the rugged countryside, Will looked for a stream. They all needed water, the horse most of all, and where there was water, there would be grass.

His legs ached with the unaccustomed exercise. He could march day in and day out, but riding used different muscles. At least the soreness distracted him a little—only a little—from Anna’s body pressed against his. The slight swell of her belly under his hand, set in her narrow waist, the full curve of her hips, the generous bosom above…it would’ve driven a saint to distraction, and he was no saint.

He wanted her and knew she was his for the taking. He’d proven himself powerless not to touch her at all. But somehow he had to be strong enough not to lie with her. It would be hard enough to walk away once they’d made it back to the army. Giving in to their lusts would make it worse.

Also, he knew her desire for him wouldn’t last. She’d had a terrible marriage, and now she was free. They had met under strange circumstances, so it was only natural she had taken more of an interest in him than she normally would have felt for a mere sergeant. Then had come that reckless, foolish dance and kiss. And now he’d rescued her and dragged her off on this cross-country escape. It was vain to imagine she would still want him once she’d had time to recover from all life had visited upon her.

If he took advantage of her now, she would hate him, and herself, later. Honor bound him to be strong so neither of them would have cause for regret later. But there were at least two nights to get through, and he didn’t know if his willpower was equal to the task.

Before dark they found a trickle of a stream, fringed by a few scrubby trees and grass enough to nourish the horse.

“We’ll stop here for the night,” he said.

Anna sat up a little straighter. “Good. I’m hungry.”

He reined the gelding to a halt. “Which of us should dismount first?” he asked.

“Hmm. I hadn’t thought of that. Every other time I’ve ridden like this, there was someone else there to catch me. I suppose you should go first—I don’t have much leverage.”

She scooted forward, almost atop the pommel, and he swung down from the saddle. He extended his arms, and she pushed off awkwardly, making the horse dance sideways. He caught her and resisted the urge to kiss her then and there, though he held her longer than was strictly necessary.

By unspoken agreement they cared for the horse first. Will unsaddled him while Anna held his head. Then she led the beast to the stream for a long drink and tethered him within reach of the largest patch of grass.

While she worked with the horse, Will unpacked the knapsack and pommel roll and refilled both canteens. He spread out the saddle blanket and set their meager meal in the center, saving a little of the bread and dates for breakfast.

Anna surveyed the dinner, and him, with a wry smile. “I’ve always loved a picnic.”

“You must enjoy following the drum, then.”

She sat opposite him. “It has its pleasant points.”

“But you’ll be glad to be home.”

“I shall.”

He broke the bread, sliced the ham with a knife he’d found in the pommel roll and served her a portion. “You’ll find a way to get there soon. There are always convoys and couriers bound for Lisbon.”

“I know. I only hope it’s soon enough that I can make it to Dunmalcolm for the winter. It’s far north in the Highlands, and the roads can be difficult. If I’m not in Portsmouth in time, I’ll have to winter in Gloucestershire with my brother.”

“Would that be so dreadful?” He broke off a bite of cheese and popped it into his mouth.

“Not at all. I’m fond of James. But it’s not home. And his wife is Sebastian’s cousin, so a long visit might prove awkward.”

“I see. I suppose his people must live nearby, so you’d be forced to see them, too.”

“Actually, no. He was from Essex.” She ate a bit of the bread, then washed it down with a long drink from her canteen.

“How did you and your brother both come to marry into the same family, then?” he asked.

“Sebastian’s sister married Lord Almont, my brother’s neighbor. All the family came for the wedding, so James met Lucy, and I met Sebastian.”

Will took a sip of water. “It must have been a whirlwind courtship,” he said carefully.

She looked away from him, gazing out across the stream. “It was. He was unlike any of the men I’d met in London, and that fascinated me. I’d gone through two Seasons without meeting anyone who suited me, and I couldn’t imagine going through the same round of balls and parties again.”

“I can’t imagine you lacked for offers.”

She turned back to him, and he smiled at her. She blushed—he could just make out her deepening color in the twilight—and he wondered at her sudden shyness. “I didn’t,” she said. “But I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of my life with any of them. I wanted something more. I thought I’d found it, but I got more than I bargained for. I’d have done better to marry the most foolish and expensive fortune-hunting fop in London.”

He considered. “Are you sure of that? You still would’ve wanted something more and had no notion what. I think from now on, you’ll know what you want.”

“Perhaps.”

He passed her another slice of bread, and their fingers brushed. They gazed at each other for a moment, frozen. Strange that such a simple contact should affect them so, after their closeness in the cave and on the horse’s back, but there it was. In the dimming twilight her light green eyes were almost swallowed by her dark pupils, and her pulse hammered at her throat. He should reach out, sink his hands into her hair and press his lips to that spot—no. He should open his mouth, not to kiss, but to remind her how impossible this was.

She broke the spell, shaking her head and taking another bite of cheese. She seemed startled, nervous in his company as she never had been before.

“Whatever I’ve learned these past two years, it wasn’t worth the cost. I’m sure I could’ve found a less painful way to grow up. But what’s done is done.” She brushed bread crumbs from her skirt, dismissing much more than the remains of her dinner. “At least my brother is happy. Lucy is nothing like her cousin, and they’re very much in love.”

“Maybe you’d enjoy spending the winter with them. Happy people make good company.”

“True, though happy couples can make one feel superfluous.”