Elspeth had spent her time trying to keep herself occupied with sewing and the few books that were available, but nothing except a long walk every afternoon could cure her of her restlessness. It was frustrating to be betwixt and between: not with the army and not yet on her way to London. By the time her father was due to arrive, she found herself jumping up and peering out the window at every unfamiliar noise.
“Ye must calm yerself, Miss Elspeth,” Mrs. Ryan gently scolded her late one afternoon after Elspeth had jumped up three times.
“I know, Mrs. Ryan. But I just want to be off.” Elspeth put down the night rail she was mending and, pulling a shawl off the hook by the door, said, “I must walk, but I will be back shortly.”
“Ye take care, Miss Elspeth. It will be getting dark soon.”
“I will, Nelly, don’t worry.”
Sometimes Elspeth walked south out of the village, but today she felt pulled north up the hill and then down into the valley where the army had camped. She tried to tell herself it was because she wished herself with them, but she suspected it was because the place held memories of Lieutenant Aston. Somehow she felt closer to him when she walked out toward the valley.
It had been a warm day, but as the sun went down, Elspeth had to pull her shawl tight around her to keep out the chill. She was just about to turn back when she saw a rider approaching. He’d obviously come from the northern track out of the mountains and she had a moment of fear until she realized that he wore red. Her father at last, she thought, until she realized he was riding a chestnut and not her father’s gray. Her hand went automatically to her heart. Please God, nothing had happened to her father. She had had no word at all about the army’s journey north, but there would have been skirmishes and perhaps even a battle by now.
It was only as the rider come closer that she recognized him. It was Lieutenant Aston. She gave a sigh of relief. Surely he was only on mission for Captain Grant and had no bad news for her. When he pulled his horse to a walk, she started out to meet him.
“Lieutenant Aston! I am surprised to see you,” she called, shading her eyes as she looked up at him.
“And I, you, Miss Gordon. Surely you should not walk so far from the village?”
“It is perfectly safe and I never go farther than that tree,” Elspeth reassured him. “But what brings you to Pero Negro? I hoped you were my father. Do you have any news of him?” she asked with a trace of anxiety in her voice.
Val dismounted and, looping the reins over his arm, walked beside her.
“I have a note from your mother, Miss Gordon, which I will dig out of my pack when we get to the village.”
Before he could finish, she turned and asked fearfully, “Nothing has happened to my father?”
“No, no, not at all. But Major Gordon was required to stay with his troops. And since I was on my way to England, I, uh, offered to be your escort.”
“Oh,” said Elspeth, a bit taken aback by the change in plans.
“I hope you have no objection?” Val asked formally.
“Why, of course not, Lieutenant. It is just that I have not said a real good-bye to my father, assuming I would see him in a few weeks,” she replied wistfully. “But if there is anything that does not change, it is the army,” she added with a smile. “Whenever you think things will go one way, then inevitably they will go the other. When do we leave?”
Val laughed. “Your father promised me you were as flexible as any soldier. But you will have a whole day to get ready, Miss Gordon,” he joked, “for my horse could use a day to rest.”
“It looks like you could too, Lieutenant Aston,” Elspeth told him, noticing for the first time how haggard he looked.
“I wouldn’t mind a good night’s sleep.”
“You can have my parents’ bed. And a good supper tonight,” she added, noticing that his uniform was fitting very loosely.
As they made their way back to the village, each became aware of a certain familiar tension between them. After the first shock was over, Elspeth realized how happy she was to see Lieutenant Aston. It was a good thing she had Nelly Ryan for company, she thought, as she glanced over at the man walking beside her.
When they reached the house, Elspeth showed Val where he could stable his horse and told him that she would see to getting him some hot water for a bath.
She was gratified to see his eyes light up for a moment at the thought of that luxury, for he looked careworn and exhausted. She imagined that he had been hardly out of the saddle as the French moved north.
She and Nelly set the tub up in the kitchen and she told her companion that she would have to interrupt her supper preparations for a while so that the lieutenant could bathe.
“There you are, Lieutenant. I’ve hung a piece of flannel on the over door so you will have a warm towel, and there is a piece of soap in the tub.”
“Thank you, Miss Gordon,” Val said with a grateful smile.
“Nelly has a stew on the stove and some bread in the oven, so you only have ten minutes for your bath,” Elspeth told him apologetically.
After stripping off his uniform, Val sank gratefully into the copper tub and felt around for the small fragment of soap. It did not produce much lather, but did the job well enough, and after he had washed, he rested his head against the back of the tub and automatically fingered Charlie’s ring. His neck and chest were green from the brass chain, but he hadn’t taken it off since he had slipped it over his head. Holding on to it like a child, and relaxed and warm for the first time in days, he fell asleep.
* * * *
“I have to get into the kitchen to see to the stew, Miss Elspeth,” Nelly said anxiously. “How much longer do you think the lieutenant will take?”
“I’ll call and remind him, Nelly, while you draw water from the pump,” Elspeth reassured her, going to the kitchen door and calling softly, “Lieutenant Aston, Nelly needs to check on supper.”
There was no answer. “Lieutenant Aston?” He must have fallen asleep, she realized. She smiled and then sniffed. The stew was beginning to smell scorched. Oh, dear, she was going to have to go in and wake him.
He was asleep, just as she had guessed. Keeping her eyes averted, she took the flannel off the oven door and, using it as a pot holder, took out the stew. “Just in time,” she whispered. But the flannel was not thick enough to protect her hands for long and she let the pan slip onto the counter.
She glanced over worriedly just as Val opened his eyes and, startled by the thunk, began to pull himself up.
“I—I am so sorry, Lieutenant,” Elspeth stammered, “but I had to rescue Nelly’s stew, and you had obviously fallen asleep….”
Val had sunk down again as soon as he realized where he was. They were both flushed from embarrassment and the heat of the kitchen and from something else too, he realized as he felt himself grow hard.
Elspeth was standing frozen as though she had been caught in a child’s game of statues. He didn’t want her coming closer, but he did need the toweling she was holding.
“Miss Gordon.”
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
“Perhaps you could place the towel on the edge of the tub as you leave?”
“Oh, yes, that is a good idea, Lieutenant,” Elspeth said, cursing herself for acting like an idiot. Averting her eyes, she lay the flannel on the edge of the tub and left the kitchen.
“I must have sounded like a complete widgeon,” she muttered as she shut the kitchen door behind her. But it had been more than embarrassment that had shaken her and more than the sight of Lieutenant Aston’s broad chest covered in wet brown curls. It was the way his face had looked in sleep. He had seemed so much younger and more vulnerable to her. She had wanted to reach out and smooth his hair back from his brow. They were dangerous, such thoughts, and she had better banish them, for she and Val would be facing one another over dinner very shortly.
* * * *
At first there was an awkward silence as Nelly served the stew, but as she sliced the bread, Val, knowing that someone would have to break it, said, “Miss Gordon rescued that stew just in time, Mrs. Ryan.” Elspeth looked up and, seeing the twinkle in his eye, knew that things were all right.
“You must tell me what has been happening, Lieutenant,” Elspeth demanded as they finished their supper. “I know Massena has gone north, but we have had little further news here.”
“There were a number of skirmishes and rear-guard actions as he retreated,” Val told her. “I was ahead of the army much of the time and it was the first time I have wished to be back with my regiment,” he added. “What the French did to the countryside and the people…well, I am glad you were here and did not see it.”
“I can imagine it must have been bad, considering the French troops had been sitting and starving for months.”
“You cannot imagine, thank God,” Val replied with such finality that Elspeth did not have the courage to ask any more questions until they were seated by the fire in the parlor, each with a small glass of port.
“Are the French out of Portugal, Lieutenant?”
“They are, Miss Gordon, except for the small garrison at Almeida. They tried to hold the line at the River Coa, but we drove them off in Sabugal.”
“Did we lose many men?”
“More theirs than ours.” Val was silent for a moment and then said, “Charlie fell at Sabugal.”
He said it so softly that Elspeth wasn’t sure she had heard him correctly. “Fell? Charlie?” She looked over at him and then she knew. “Oh, no, not Charlie,” she said in an agonized whisper.
“If Crauford had been there…. But that damned fool Erskine had the cavalry going in every direction,” Val told her bitterly.
What could she possibly say to him? Elspeth wondered. He had lost the person closest to his heart.
“I’ll be going off to bed, then, Miss Elspeth,” said Nelly, who had come in without either of them noticing her.
“Oh, yes, of course, Nelly.”
When they were alone again, Elspeth reached over and put her hand over his. “I am so sorry, Lieutenant Aston…. We all loved Lord Holme,” she added, her voice quivering. Val gripped her hand convulsively. “Everyone loved Charlie,” he said hoarsely. “He should not have died. If anyone had to, it should have been me.”
“Oh, no,” cried Elspeth. “You must not say that.”
“Why not? It is true.” He looked over at her, his eyes despairing. “He was so loving.”
“He was,” Elspeth whispered.
Val dropped her hand and, opening the neck of his tunic, drew out the ring. “He gave me this before he left. The Faringdon crest,” he explained. “To keep safe until he came back. To return to his father if he didn’t….” Val fingered the ring and said brokenly, “It is all I have of him and I never really told him what he meant to me.”
Elspeth had been in the presence of grief often in the army and knew how necessary it was to mourn in order to come to terms with one’s loss. But there was nothing healing in this grief. There was agony over losing his brother, but there was more than that and it seemed as if it was tearing him apart.
She rose and knelt beside him. “Oh, my dear,” she said without thinking, “you must not torture yourself. Your brother knew you loved him; I am sure of it.” She reached up and touched his cheek.
Her soft touch released something in him and Val caught her to him as though he were drowning and only she could save him. He captured her mouth with his and she opened hers willingly. The kiss left them both breathless when he finally released her.
He slipped off the chair and was down on his knees before her, one hand cupped behind her head as he bent down for another bruising kiss, the other caressing her breast.
At first Elspeth pushed his hand away, and he pulled back instantly. But the look in his eyes was so desperate that she forgot everything in her desire to comfort in what seemed the only way she could, and so she put her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth against hers again.
This time, when his hand slipped under the bodice of her dress and his thumb began to circle her breast, she only gave herself over to the sensation.
Val was beyond being aware of where he was and who she was. He only knew that he wanted her, that no one in the world could comfort him but Elspeth. As soon as he felt her willing response he lifted her up.
“Where is your room?” he asked hoarsely. “I can’t take you here on the floor.”
Elspeth took his hand in hers and led him into the bedroom.
He unpinned her dress with shaking fingers and, after she crawled under the covers, pulled off his boots and uniform. Then he drew the brass chain over his neck and dropped the ring on the small table beside the bed.
“Do you want me to turn the lamp down?” he asked her.
Elspeth nodded and he turned the wick until the lamp flickered out, and crawled into the bed.
She still had her shift on and he slipped his hand underneath and sought her out, groaning with pleasure at the moistness that met his fingers. Then he was over her, his hands woven through her hair. He claimed her mouth and thrust with his tongue, and she arched up and felt him hard against her belly.
“I can’t wait,” he groaned and, slipping his hands under her hips, he lifted her up to meet him.
He was beyond thought, beyond care, beyond anything but his need to bury himself in her. Elspeth felt a searing pain at his second thrust, but as he filled her, she began to move with him.
Oh, God, he wanted to go deeper. He was already lost, so why not truly lose himself in her? He cried out at the moment of his release and then collapsed next to her, leaving Elspeth as full and as empty as she had ever felt in her life.
Elspeth lay there, waiting for him to say something, anything. Not that he loved her. She didn’t expect that, for she knew this had not been about love, but grief. But she needed to hear that she meant something to him, that she had at least been able to ease his pain. But he was silent and she was afraid to move or speak. After a few minutes, however, she gathered up her courage and, raising herself on one elbow, looked over at him.
He had fallen asleep almost instantly, it seemed. Elspeth didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He was exhausted, she told herself. But he had turned away and left her there hoping that he would pull her close, wishing for words of affection, if not love. She slipped out of bed and, holding her gown up against her, crept down the hall to her small bedroom, where she crawled under the covers and cried herself to sleep.
* * * *
When Val awoke the next morning, he felt rested for the first time in weeks. It took him a minute to realize where he was and to remember what had happened the night before.
He had taken Elspeth Gordon to bed. She had not been unwilling, but he had used her, he realized as he tried to reconstruct the evening. Used her for release and to assuage his grief. He hadn’t used a woman so selfishly since he was eighteen. And this was the woman he loved. My God, what was he going to say to her?
He pulled himself up and looked at the crumpled bedclothes. There were a few bloodstains, reminding him that it was the first time for Elspeth. He ran his hands over his face. Had he hurt her badly? He had certainly not given her any pleasure, but he hoped he had not given her too much pain.
He would have to marry her this time and he felt a sinking sensation as he realized that he had not only taken her maidenhead but also her freedom to choose. She would have to wed him. This wasn’t like before. It had nothing to do with satisfying external appearances. This had to do with honor. He could not look her father and mother in the face if he failed to marry her.
The irony of the situation was not lost on him. He loved her and therefore would never have proposed, to save her from the dishonor of marrying a bastard. But he had dishonored her, and therefore he had to propose.
The sun was just coming up and he hoped that Nelly was not an early riser as he walked quietly down the hall. He could not face Elspeth over breakfast without talking to her. Without letting her know that he would make things right. Or very wrong, depending upon how you looked at it.
He opened her door quietly and walked the short distance to her bed. She lay sleeping, her hair spread out on the pillow, and he wished he could let her sleep, could just leave her to her dreams rather than waking her to the harsh reality that faced them.
“Elspeth.” She stirred a little at his whisper, but her eyes remained closer. He reached out and gently shook her shoulder.
Her eyes opened and she looked at him with a puzzled frown as she tried to make out what he was doing in her bedroom. Then it all came back, and drawing the covers around her, she sat up.
“Lieutenant Aston…?”
“Elspeth, we need to talk. It must be clear to you…after last night and my shameful behavior…that we must wed.”
Elspeth just sat there as though waiting for something from him, but he didn’t know what.
“I know that you cherish your independence and would not have given it up except for love….”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“We have no choice. You can see that, I am sure. But we are friends and there is also an attraction between us. I am just sorry I did this to you.”
“I see,” Elspeth replied, her heart sinking.
“My concern is the same as it was in the fall, Miss Gordon. But not to marry you after last night would be to dishonor both you and your parents, who trusted me.”
Elspeth thought that if hearts could break, now would be when hers would crack. He was sorry he had to ask her. Of course, part of his reluctance was his ridiculous combination of pride and shame about the circumstances of his birth. But if he had cared for her at all, surely there would have been some joy in his offer.
“I cannot marry you under these circumstances, Lieutenant Aston,” she answered calmly, although it was difficult to keep her voice steady.
“It is precisely because of these circumstances that you must, Miss Gordon.” His tone was that of a man used to being obeyed.
“I am not one of your foot soldiers, to be ordered around,” Elspeth responded sharply.
Val took a deep breath. “Of course not, Elspeth. I apologize for barking at you. But there really is no choice, so we must both resign ourselves to that.”
She knew he was right. And after all, there was no man she would rather marry. But not like this. Not like this.
“We will have to wait until Lisbon, where we can find a clergyman. I am sorry your parents will not be present. It won’t be the wedding you must have dreamed of,” he said regretfully.
“I put away my girlish fantasies years ago, Lieutenant,” Elspeth replied tartly. She would be damned if she would let him see how vulnerable she was. “And Nelly will be awake soon, so you had best get yourself out of my room. Or she’ll think you have to marry me,” she added with bitter irony.
* * * *
After he had bowed himself out, Elspeth sat there, the covers pulled up around her. She had lied, of course. She had not let go of all her girlish dreams. Hers were different from other girls’; she had never desired a large Society wedding. She had never dreamed of marrying an earl or a duke. But she had hoped one day a man she loved would acknowledge his love for her. She had wondered, of course, what joining physically with a man would be like and had pictured it as a union of hearts and souls as well as bodies.
“Well, lassie,” she told herself as she got out of bed and began to dress, “last night was certainly different from anything you ever dreamed.” She blushed as she recalled Val’s urgency and her own response to it. She had wanted him as much as he wanted her; she couldn’t deny that. Her body had responded to his desperate need for comfort. She could only hope he had found some.