The Lost Love of a Soldier (13 page)

This is what she’d learned from the time they’d made love on the ship – to always be silent. He did not admonish her, nor encourage her to be more vocal. There would be many times they must be silent. It was better she had this skill.

Yet he saw her fighting it. The heat between her legs increased and he worked harder, pulling out and pressing in, captured by the primal call of her body. Three. Four more strokes. And then…
Oh
. He firmed the muscle in his arms to stop himself from falling, as her gentle fingers ran over his hair.

She was so beautiful.

~

Paul slipped out of the bed as carefully as he could, trying not to wake Ellen. As he moved she rolled to her back and stretched her arms, her sleepy eyes opening and looking up at him, the pale blue slightly misty. Her skin was reddened in places from the heat of his embrace and the brush of his stubble.

When she lay in bed looking like this, with her hair only loosely braided and escaping about her face, he loved her more – the imperfect, approachable, Ellen.

He turned back, leaned down, and pressed a kiss on her forehead, longing to return to the bed but knowing he could not; he had things to do. “Be ready in case we are to sail today, I shall send word as soon as I know.”

She nodded.

As he washed and dressed, she sat more upright in bed, watching him, her pale skinned arms lying over the covers. He kept occasionally smiling at her in the mirror. They would be well. They would be happy. And he would keep her safe. He would accept no other conclusion. But even as he assured himself, his mind threw images of dead and dying men at him.

When he looked at her, and walked back to the bedside, she looked up at him with a
wonder
that suggested he was something stupendous. The look spoke to his heart as it had done in the summer, stealing away all the memories of war. He bent and kissed her forehead. “Goodbye, Ellen. I doubt I shall return for luncheon, not unless we are to sail. But I shall send word.”

She nodded again then said, “Good day.”

As he turned away, there was the sensation low in his stomach. Fear. He didn’t like it. Perhaps it was the vulnerability he sensed in her. She was quiet and she had a way of hiding even when she was in a crowd of people, withdrawing into her thoughts. Yet despite her shyness, his men loved her, and the other officers were all enamoured too – though they’d expressed shock over her decision to follow the drum.

Perhaps that was why he felt concern – because it had not been her choice. She’d chosen only to be his wife, the outcome of that had been decided for her.

Casting the thought aside, he left the room.

It was too late to worry over such things. Their course was set.

~

When a soldier arrived, almost bursting into the small parlour, dressed in the scarlet coat and blue-grey pantaloons of Paul’s regiment, Ellen stood, setting aside her sewing without thought. Jennifer stood too.

He smelt of cold and damp, as Paul had done the day before.

“Madam.” He bowed deeply.

“Tell me your news. I presume my husband sent you; Captain Harding?”

“Ma’am.” He bowed again. “The Captain did. He asked me to inform you that the regiment is to sail on the high tide at six this evening.”

It was today then “Very well. Did he say how our things are to be taken to the dock?”

“Some of the men will come with the Captain after four, and bring a cart to take your items, madam.”

Ellen nodded. That was it then. The end of the peace they’d known here.

“And there are these, ma’am.” He held out two letters.

“Letters from my husband?”

“No, ma’am, they came with the regimental mail.”

She took them from his outstretched hand and turned one over. The coat of arms imprinted in the seal was one she’d known all her life… her father’s. She recognised the writing on the other; Penny’s.

Ellen’s heart leapt then pounded as she looked back up at the young soldier. “Thank you.” Her voice came out much quieter than she’d expected and a little shakily with the emotion gripping in her chest. She urged more strength into it. “I’m grateful. Please tell Captain Harding, I shall be ready.”

The soldier bowed again, sharply, with a stiff posture, and then he walked from the room.

Ellen turned to Jennifer. “Would you fetch us tea?”

As soon as the maid had gone Ellen walked across the room to the hearth and broke the seal on her father’s letter. It was short and sharp.

I did not, and do not, welcome your letters. They have all been destroyed and you are not to contact your mother or your sisters. Do you understand? I do not wish to hear from a disobedient child, and I shall not have your ill behaviour reflect on the others.

You have made your choice, now live it, and be done.

The Duke of Pembroke

“The Duke of Pembroke…” The words escaped from her mouth. “You are my father, Papa.”

She held the letter against her bosom for a moment, thinking of her mother, Penny, Rebecca and Sylvia. Tears clouded her vision, then slipped onto her cheeks. Her heart ached. This was the moment a tide, like the sea, tried to pull her back, but soon there would be even more miles between herself and them.

She looked at the second letter. It was also marked with the Duke of Pembroke’s seal. But the address
was
in Penny’s hand.

Ellen’s heart pumped hard as she broke the seal, a beat of excitement and anxiety drumming through her limbs, even into her fingertips, making the paper tremble.

Tears traced sensation down her cheeks…

Eleanor, my dearest sister,

I am sure you must feel guilty for leaving us, but do not. I am glad you have run off with Paul. Papa is furious; he has not let any of us mention your name, not even Mama. But I know she has cried, and I have tried to comfort her, but she must obey father and so she will not let me say your name to her, though I see it in her eyes all the time.

When I saw him scribbling a letter with a look of steel on his face, then I knew he must be writing to you, and so I wrote my own and hid it in the packet with his. He does not know I have written, and I am sure you will not be able to write back. This is just to tell you that I understand and miss you terribly, but I would not have it different for the world. I hope you are happy.

I saw an article in Papa’s paper; there was a paragraph. ‘Lady P, the daughter of the Duke of P, is known to have run off with the 6th son of the Earl of C, without the consent of either influential home. One does wonder over the abilities of these noble lords if they cannot even control their sons and daughters. The eloped couple are now believed to be abroad.’

Papa threw the paper at a footman. I have never seen him so obviously angry. You know what he is like for cold disdain, but this was definitely heated.

Oh, Ellen, I miss having you to talk to, so much, but you must not come back. You must stay away and enjoy your life. I wish you happiness. I can hardly imagine what it must be like to be an officer’s wife. You shall have a life of adventure, while I pine away for you. But do not let that put you off, you must enjoy every moment.

All my love,

Your sister

Penelope

Ellen collapsed into a chair, tears tracking pathways down her cheeks, as her heart bled for her home, her sisters and her mother.

~

“Are you ready, Ellen?”

Ellen turned to look at Paul as he entered the chamber. She’d heard his arrival with his men through the window and his boot heels striking the wooden floorboards in the hall.

“I am, yes.” Externally – but not internally.

“Come in!” He looked back and called to the open door. Immediately she heard men moving and her heart began pounding.

She was dressed to leave. She wore a pelisse, which he’d bought for her to wear when travelling, it had a military theme with frogging like a hussars’ uniform, gold braid and brass buttons, and beneath it, her travelling dress was made from calico. It was thicker than muslin, so the chilly sea breezes would not penetrate the cloth. When he turned back to look at her, moving out of the way of his men he smiled. A torch lit in her heart, light and warmth, and she smiled too.

The smile was Paul’s, the man she’d met at her parents’ home. It was the same smile that had captured her heart the first time she’d seen him.

The soldiers lifted the trunks and carried them out. Once they’d passed, Paul lifted his arm. “Come then.”

Her fingers gently embraced the firm muscle beneath his layers of clothing as she walked out of the inn room beside him, then downstairs and out into the cobbled street, leaving Jennifer to oversee the loading of their items.

They walked on towards the dock. It was only a couple of streets away.

“My father wrote to me. That was one of the letters your man brought.”

Paul looked down at her. “And…”

“He told me I may not write, not to him, nor Mama, nor any of my sisters.”

His arm dropped away from beneath her fingers and he turned sharply and held her briefly. It was so uncommon for him to show her affection in public when he was in the guise of a soldier; it made her wish to cry. But her father would have frowned upon crying in public, and Paul would not wish a weeping wife when they boarded the ship. She wiped away her tears as he let her go, not looking at him.

“But the other letter was from Penny, she wished me to know that she is happy for me, and wishes me well…” Fresh tears flooded Ellen’s eyes and tumbled over.

Paul gripped her hands. “I know you miss your sisters. If he had accepted my offer–”

Ellen met his gaze. “It is not your fault he refused you, and to acknowledge us. You are more than worthy.”

His blue eyes shone with passionate, heart-felt, anger.

“The fault is my father’s rigid judgement.” Ellen concluded.

Paul touched beneath her chin. “Even so, I regret that this is the outcome of marrying me.”

“I do not regret. I am happy to be your wife.”

“And I am a very lucky man.”

“Well that makes us equal, because I know I am lucky.”

She could tell from his eyes he wished to kiss her, but that would be a step too far for a conversation in the street when he was in the persona of a soldier.

“Come.” He smiled, before turning away to continue.

She gripped his forearm, wiping the tears from her cheeks once more.

When they reached the dock, the other officers were present and casting various orders. Instantly she noticed his Lieutenant Colonel on the deck of the ship. She sensed his gaze on her but did not look up as Paul acknowledged him. She was under no obligation to do so, and there was just something about the man which made her skin feel uncomfortable, as though it did not fit her body suddenly. He always watched her and it felt invasive.

Paul’s arm fell from beneath her fingers then he walked a little ahead. Isolation swamped her as she stood, waiting, under the scrutiny of his Lieutenant Colonel.

Paul called a couple of the soldiers over to tell them his belongings would arrive soon and where to put them.

When he returned to her he bent to whisper. “I have managed to secure us a cabin as you were so uncomfortable with our conditions previously, Ellen.”

Her gaze met his, and beyond him, that of his senior officer, who did not look away even then. She focused on, Paul. “Thank you.”

“Shall I take you to it? Or would you rather wait on deck until we sail.”

“Take me there.”

“Very well then.” Instead of offering his arm, he took her hand, and she was well aware of her fingers shaking despite her brave words.

He led her up the gangplank and stopped before the Lieutenant Colonel for her to curtsy. She did so, briefly, without looking up to meet his gaze, she looked instead at his cravat.

“Good day, Madam Harding, I hope our weather is fair and the journey shall not be difficult for you.”

He said nothing wrong – nothing offensive – there was nothing factual to cause her discomfort, except that he stared. But that tremor of disgust which kept running up her spine whenever he was near, tingled through her nerves.

“I will show Ellen to our cabin and then return and instruct the men.”

“Indeed.” With that she was dismissed.

Paul’s hand tightened around hers gently leading her across the deck. The cabin was tiny, probably only a yard wide, with one narrow cot and another above it, but at least it would be private.

“We will be at sea for three to four days, Ellen. I shall send Jennifer to you once she arrives.” Paul closed the door, leaving her alone. She sat on the lower bunk.

Everything felt so strange. She supposed this would be the way it was now – she would become used to one place and then it would be time to move to another.

She lay down on the bunk. If he wished for relations tonight it would be impossible as her bleed had begun. Her lower back ached a little as she rolled to her side.

Chapter Ten

Paul looked about the port for what seemed like the fiftieth time. It overwhelmed, even him. The place was teeming with soldiers and among the men in uniform, were dozens of people here for pleasure. It seemed as though half the fashionable world had descended on Ostend, as well as the military. He’d intended to leave Ellen on the ship, but she had not wished to stay while he went ashore.

She’d not been well during their journey; she’d had her bleed and her stomach had been painful and queasy. It was a problem which would arrive each month as they travelled, a thing a man would never need to think of – another thing to make him wonder if he’d done right by her.

But this was no time to fret over her stamina. He needed to find somewhere for them to stay until he knew where the regiment was to go next – and there were so many others here hunting for accommodation.

“This is madness,” Ellen said, clinging to his hand.

“It is.” The noise about them was deafening, with so many voices all shouting over one another seeking someone to carry luggage, and directions; while working men shouted orders over that, to load and unload ships. “This way.” At least Paul knew his way around Ostend.