Sir Charles was already done breakfasting and off to town when Elinor came downstairs the next morning, once again wearing her serviceably comfortable riding attire, her hair in a single braid down her back. She called Josie into the breakfast parlour with her so she could begin preparations for the trip to England. Josie was much more excited about seeing Elinor into society than Elinor was. Josie clasped her hands together at the thought of seeing her lady dressed for balls and rides in the parks. She dreamt for weeks after each one of Elinor’s sister’s letters about London—Hyde Park, galas, balls, museums—and memorized the pages of each ladies’ magazine they sent. “Do not look so glum, Miss Elly! Are you not a little excited? It will not be so bad.”
“No, Josie. I am not excited. I am only going because Father thinks it best. I am quite content with life here, doing good work. Not wasting money on gowns that could feed hundreds of hungry mouths.” Or seeing the man who haunts my sleep.
“Oh, I see.” But she did not. All Josie cared about was how her beautiful Miss Elly would look on the arm of a handsome lord, and surely the right man would be able to help her through the anxieties of a relationship. Josie always thought she could keep encouraging Elinor… “But can you not marry well and keep doing good work?”
Elinor smiled. “I do not have to marry to do that!” That would be most people’s logical assumption. Too bad they would be disappointed.
“No, but you would have more fun doing good with a fancy-piece beside you! And you cannot very well have wee ones without a husband.”
Elinor was already reconciled to that, but a quick vision of chubby babies with blue eyes flashed before her nonetheless. She wished she could have all of it over with a snap of the fingers or by meeting the man of her dreams, but that was not going to happen. She played along as usual, ignoring the part about children. Josie knew, but she did not understand without having gone through it. She could not understand. Elinor forced herself to laugh and rolled her eyes at Josie. “And perhaps a handsome beau for you?”
“Icing on the cake!” Saucy, as usual.
Josie was to spend the rest of the day packing Elinor’s trunks, and Elinor headed to the stables, to spend the day saying goodbye to the children and to the soldiers and friends she had made at her old school-turned-hospital. Unfortunately, now she would have to avoid the school since she was not ready to face Mr. Wilson yet.
Teddy, the groom, already had her horse saddled and waiting. She walked over and greeted Athena, who nickered and nuzzled for her carrot she knew was waiting in Elinor’s pocket. Elinor laughed and handed over the goods, stroking the mare as she munched on her treat. If only humans were so easy to deal with. She was beginning to mount up as she heard a voice from behind.
“Good morning, Miss Elinor, would you mind if I join you for a while? Your father assured me you would not mind showing me more of this splendid land,” She heard Easton’s smooth voice as he strode into the stable, his hair a little tousled from the wind.
“Major Easton.” She tried not to show her shock. She stared off, one hand on the saddle, one foot on the stirrup, her back to him, debating. What was he still doing here? Why had he not left? She was hesitant to be alone with him, her nightmare last night reminding her of the dangers of rakes. She also had much to do before departing for England, but showing off her beloved River’s Bend was a weakness. She was still annoyed with him for criticising her, and she was determined to keep her cool and distance from the handsome rogue. She did her best to give him a non-verbal set-down with a glare, but since he was eye-to-eye with her despite her being in the stirrup, it had little effect. Bother.
Ignoring her obvious reluctance, he walked closer and began to pet Athena, who nuzzled right up to him, helping herself to a cube of sugar. Traitor, Elly thought to herself.
“Please? I would be much obliged.” He smiled at her, and gracious, if a dimple did not peek at her. Dimples had to be a creation of the devil. She looked at him sceptically, wondering why he was trying to be charming. She had already seen his overbearing side last night.
“I am rather surprised you would request to ride with me after you so eloquently stated your opinion of my riding skills,” she said with a smirk.
“Your riding skills are exceptional, and you know it, Miss Abbott. I rarely ride with ladies.”
The nerve of the man! No, she was not going to let him get her in a temper today. She put on her sweetest smile and spoke calmly. “Ah. So you doubt the female ability to handle a horse? Or should I be pleased you are condescending to ride with me?”
There was no good answer to that, Easton thought. “Nonsense. I find from experience it a bad idea to combine emotion with hard riding.” Could he never say the proper thing around her? He rarely rode with ladies, because he was never around them. True, he had never been a skirt chaser and he avoided debutantes like the plague, but he thought most females found him charming. He certainly had not earned his reputation as a ladies’ man. Elinor was apparently unimpressed with his skills. Maybe he should just smile at her more. The dimples had always worked on his mother. He had never enjoyed playing the charmer or rake, but he enjoyed watching Elinor’s temper flare when he did.
“I agree,” she said with a raised eyebrow and lifted her chin, which he found quite endearing. “Are you implying that females only ride hard when emotional?”
“Beg pardon. I sensed you were riding that way yesterday for a reason. I use it as my personal escape, and I thought you might do the same.”
Elinor found her eyes began to glisten and turned away before she betrayed her emotion. She remained silent.
“May I pleeeeease ride with you? I will only follow you anyway,” Easton said with another grin.
“Very well.” She grunted and nodded in assent. Not exactly ladylike.
“How gracious of you, Miss Abbott.”
She was going to scream. “Saddle up Centurion for him, Teddy.” If he wanted to ride, a ride he would have, she smiled to herself. Centurion was a barely-broken stallion.
“Already done, Miss Elly.” Teddy grinned at her as he handed the reins to Easton.
First the horse, now the groom. Was no one still on her side? At least Centurion would keep Easton in line. She suppressed a laugh and gave him a mischievous grin over her shoulder as she expertly mounted her mare without the assistance of a mounting block.
She heard Easton chuckle arrogantly as he looked at the restless horse. He did not look the least bit concerned by the young stallion at all.
“Why are you here and not plotting the overthrow of Washington?” she blurted out. She meant that to be as sarcastic as it sounded, but she had also meant to be a touch more eloquent.
He looked at her with surprise in his eyes. “Miss Abbott, I am more sympathetic to your feelings than I can admit.” He started to say more then stopped. “I remain to accompany your father at the behest of General Ross. We will meet up with them later.”
“Then why are you here? If you do not agree with what is happening, I mean?” She looked at him in disbelief, searching his face, hoping for the answer she wanted to hear.
She saw a brief flash of something in his eyes, then he was back to his cavalier demeanour.
“Because it is my duty, though I am finding the principle of this assignment difficult now that I am here. I hope it will end soon. I am selling out when we return.” He looked as if he wanted to elaborate on the subject, but hesitated. “And, your father asked me to spend the morning with you, to see if I could ease any of your fears about London.” Dimples. Again. She was going to kill her father. Elinor nodded as if she could accept his answer, but the thought of him fighting for something he did not agree with bothered her. She did not envy him that. She turned her mare and clicked her tongue. She took off with an easy leap over the first hedge on her favourite ride past the tobacco fields toward the river. She pondered how many soldiers felt as Easton did? Knowing they were pawns of kings and presidents who might or might not have their best interests at heart, but a desire to protect what they believed in.
She let her disturbing thoughts go and laughed as they raced through the fields. Easton easily matched Centurion to her, stride for stride, which she must admit impressed her. He must be cavalry to ride like that. No wonder he had looked arrogantly at Centurion. The two got lost in the ride, finding camaraderie in their horsemanship, taken with the rush from the wind in their face and the pounding of the horseflesh beneath them. Elinor cherished the escape from reality, where it felt like her worries were carried away.
They rode until the horses began to slow from exertion. Elinor finally pulled up, bringing them to a trot, and they rode in companionable silence as she led Easton down a path toward her favourite spot. She stopped at a tree where the horses could drink and graze, and Easton followed her lead. She bent down and splashed her face to cool herself from the humid August afternoon, and then she started down a path through the vineyard. Easton eventually followed after he stopped gaping after her.
Elinor picked a bunch of grapes off one of the nearby vines, then scampered down the hill back to her special spot. She did not normally share this place with anyone, but she had little time left to enjoy it. Then they sat on the river-bank in comfortable tranquillity for a while, listening to the gentle roll of the water, until Easton broke the silence. “How long have you lived here?”
“The plantation?” He nodded. “Papa bought it shortly after we arrived six years ago. Initially as an investment, then we loved it so much we moved here. He thought I needed more room to roam than we had at the city residence.”
“So you are going to London directly from here?”
Elinor nodded, still staring out at the water. She tore off half of the grapes and handed them over to share.
“Is there a particular reason you are not thrilled with the prospect?” he asked, staring at her eating the grapes. She refused to look at him, for fear he would see right through her.
“Would you want to leave this?” She gestured with her hands at the surrounding river, hundred-foot-tall trees and hills in the background.
“It is undoubtedly incredible, but I agree with your father that it could be unsafe for you here for a while. It will not be so terrible. You do have many well-placed connections in society there.” He refrained from mentioning the fact that she was English, though she was certain he wanted to.
She sat in silence for a while, mindlessly pulling grapes from the bunch and eating them. Then she confided quietly, “I will never be accepted there. I remember enough of Sarah’s Season to know that I cannot conform to society.” She sighed. “Not after living like this.”
“Who says you must conform?” He looked into her eyes, and she felt her heart soften a bit. She looked away quickly, determined not to be taken in by him. Never again.
She looked back at him suspiciously. “I will disgrace my family with my hoydenish ways, as you so graciously pointed out last night.”
“That was not what I meant,” he said softly.
“You mean my shrewish tongue and untamed ways will be welcome in the ton’s drawing rooms in London?” She stared, daring him to contradict her. “You know as well as I that any hint of individuality is shunned in a female.” She looked away, starting to feel overwhelmed as everything began to close in on her. She stood and straightened her skirts out.
“I must return.” She turned to head back up the hill when Easton, all six feet of him, took her arm and spun her into him. She flinched at the contact. He looked down into her eyes with tenderness, but then he pulled back when he saw he had frightened her. She could not tell him why else she did not want to go back to England, or why she was afraid of getting too close to him.
She fled to Athena and took off. He already thinks I am hellion, she thought, so she kept going, not looking back.
Easton had no idea what had gone so wrong, but something was haunting Little Elly.
Elinor made her rounds that afternoon to say goodbye, trying to forget her encounter with Easton. She had not handled that well. It seemed that she was unable to maintain her composure around him. He likely still saw her as the little tomboy she had been as a little girl back at the Abbey, or as bad, when she had been an awkward thirteen-year-old with her body matured beyond her years and her face covered with spots. She had felt so grown up that last night in England, her first proper gown and her first dinner with the adults. Elinor had thought Easton so handsome that night, but she had not given that or him any more thought after her attack. She had worked hard on being able to maintain calm or indifference when needed, and it was as if all of those years of hard work had been wasted when she had seen him again as an adult.
Why did he affect her so? It was not as if she wanted his attentions that way. Heaven knew he must have much more refined tastes when it came to females. With his looks and roguish charm, she had no doubt about his abilities with the fairer sex. Perhaps she was still vain enough to want his attention, therefore proving she was not as repulsive as she felt? She had not come across many men of his ilk before, and these thoughts were treading with danger she could not afford. She needed to shake that feeling quickly. How was it even possible to feel attraction after what a man had done to her? Because deep down you know all men do not hurt women.
These questions pervading her thoughts, she made her way across the bridge on Athena toward the minister’s residence in Washington, hoping Easton would be gone soon and she could get back to being composed and serene. Well, maybe not serene, but calm. At least he would not be in London.
Elinor arrived at the bustling corner at Connecticut Avenue, and left Athena in the stable with her groom whom she’d brought along at Papa’s insistence when she rode to town. She loved the courtyard garden full of reminders of her mother. Gardening was her mother’s passion, and together Elinor and her father had filled this smallish garden in the middle of the city with her mother’s favourite trees, flowers and herbs when they had first arrived from England. She sat for a moment on the stone seat in the centre and drank in the peace of her mother’s presence she felt there.
She rose after a few moments, having made it there in time for tea and looking forward to her special time of day with her papa. Ever since they had come to America, tea had been their time together whenever possible, whether in town or at the plantation. She was feeling better and hummed as she made her way through the garden, bees buzzing all about. She pruned a few dead blooms as she strolled through, taking in the heady scent of the roses in all of their glory on a warm summer afternoon.
Elinor strolled through the open doors into the library and found Easton in all of his handsome splendour having tea with her father, engrossed in discussion. She took a deep breath. She would not let this man bother her. She stepped further into the room and walked to the tea service and began to pour herself a cup before they noticed her. “I hope I am not intruding?” The two men stood at her arrival.
“Of course not, dearest. We could use a break anyway.” So she was intruding. So be it. She would be separated from her father soon, and she would steal every minute she could.
“Any plans for departure?” She glanced at Easton over her cup, wondering if he understood her meaning. He shot a glance back at her. She gestured for the men to sit back down.
“Nothing in stone, dear. Just be ready.” Her father tried to hide the worry from his face, but she could sense it. He looked like he had aged a decade since he had tucked her in last night.
“I believe my things are packed at least.” She would never be ready. “Have you more meetings tonight?”
“In a manner of speaking.” Sir Charles did not look at her when he said that. Interesting. “Will you excuse me for a few minutes?” He left the room, and her keen eyes followed him with a concerned look on her face.
Easton finally broke his silence. “He is trying to spare you worry, Miss Abbott. I would play along.”
She spun around and glared at him. “Beg pardon?” He was unmoved and sat there with an arrogant air of indifference. He finally turned to look at her, and she was frightened by what she thought she saw. Disgust? Annoyance? Then his look changed to contemplation, and he finally decided to speak. So he was not going to mention her behaviour earlier. That was a relief at least. Apparently he was not going to be civil either.
“Cochrane wants to move on Washington tonight, so we will be leaving shortly to meet them.”
If he intended to shock her, well, he succeeded, but she did not want him to know that. “Why are you telling me this? Clearly it is against your better judgement to do so.”
He inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Because your father is sick with worry—much of that worry is for your safety. I would greatly appreciate it if you would not harass him further on the matter. I gathered you would not be satisfied until you forced him into telling you.”
“You, sir, are too kind.” She forced the most insincere smile she could, and without further ado, she turned on her heel and left the library, taking great pains to be dignified, with her chin held high. All she wanted to do was shout, “Go away you insufferable, impertinent, arrogant, odious creature!” Granted, she had not given him reason to think her deserving of better treatment, but it chafed nonetheless. She held her tongue and made it to her horse before she let out a scream of frustration. She had a five-mile ride home to compose herself. She was far beyond the bridge before she realized she had not bid her father goodbye.
Sir Charles came back into the room and circled around looking for his daughter.
“She made her escape. I am afraid I scared her away,” Easton said, chagrined.
“She is only upset about leaving. She is not normally so, so…emotional.” Sir Charles waved his hand about, searching for the right words.
“No, sir, I apologize. I never seem to say the appropriate thing when she is around.”
Sir Charles laughed. “She seems to have that effect on men. And she has no idea. She has received at least four offers of marriage this year, and she gets upset every time.”
Easton felt a pang of jealousy and dismissed it. He was not fit for husband material even if Elinor were interested, which she clearly was not. As a second son, he was not expected to marry, so he had never tried to be husband-worthy. His life the past eight years held no place for a lady. He cringed when he thought of the wives who followed the drum, not knowing when there would be food, often sleeping in the open in either freezing or sweltering temperatures, moving constantly, facing the brutality of not knowing if their loved ones would return home that day… He forced his thoughts back to the present and the sadness of his brother’s life that was wasted. Easton was now the heir. He needed to be husband-material.
As if sensing his thoughts, Sir Charles said, “About time for you to think about a wife, eh? I am dreadfully sorry to hear about Max’s death, Adam. However, it will be your responsibility to carry on your line.”
Easton swallowed visibly. “I do not know how to be a husband.”
“No one does, my boy. You learn as you go. The key is to find the right lady,” Sir Charles said with a knowing smile.
“But I am so set in my habits, none of the other officers even want to share quarters with me,” Easton argued with a laugh. That might be a stretch, but it made the point.
“Again, you simply need the right one,” Sir Charles said matter-of-factly.
Could Sir Charles be right? He thought he still had wit and charm, when he could remember to take off his soldier’s hat. It would be difficult after eight years of rigid structure and rules and having the responsibility of so many lives, but he used to know how to have fun before the army. He had even laughed a little at some of Wellington’s balls when he’d had the opportunity.
“I will think on it, sir, though I am not sure there is a lady alive that deserves to be saddled with me.” He thought of Elinor’s spirited smile from that afternoon out riding. I would not mind being saddled with her. He knew he should not think such thoughts. Even if he did have to marry one day, it would not be to her.
“I imagine they can decide that for themselves.”
“Perhaps.” He grinned back at his godfather.
“Come,” Sir Charles rose and gestured for Easton to follow, “let us rest and have a nice supper before this horrid business before us tonight.”
Sir Charles and Easton arrived at the scene of the attack to the stench of death and black, thick smoke rising from burning buildings. Moans of the wounded and screams of frightened women and children echoed all around them. Easton hated this. He wanted to be home. Only a few more weeks of this, God willing.
They stood and watched Colonel Knott shouting orders to burn everything in sight. “This is utter madness! That was not the order at all! Should I say something? Where is General Ross?” Easton searched with his eyes, barely controlling his rage. The city was teeming with innocent civilians, and they were raining down fire and brimstone as if they were on a battlefield. He could not stand by and watch any longer. He turned to Sir Charles, “I will meet you at the Minister’s residence later. Please stay safe.”
“Godspeed, son.” Sir Charles turned and walked his horse away from the soldiers wielding their torches at Washington.
Easton dismounted and made his way toward Knott with purpose. “Sir.” He saluted. “With all due respect, is burning civilian homes necessary? The orders were to preserve the unarmed and only destroy the government buildings!”
Astonished at the temerity of Easton to question his orders, Knott retorted, “They have not given us the same courtesy! Think of the Erie attacks! And Admiral Cochrane said only spare the lives of the unarmed!”
“Do we stoop to their level? Burning houses with women and children inside? What of General Ross who is directing this attack?” Murmurs of agreement sounded from the soldiers around them as a crowd was beginning to grow, which only infuriated Knott.
“Soldiers, I did not order you to cease! Unless you want to find yourself charged with insubordination, I suggest you follow orders! Now!” He turned back to Easton in full rage as the soldiers scampered off reluctantly. “Take your concerns to General Ross, but I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself unless ordered otherwise! If I catch you ordering anyone to defy my orders, you will regret it.” The last sentence was spoken with quiet malice, before Knott turned and stomped away.
Easton took several deep breaths to calm himself, then went to find his men. He refused to have any part of killing innocents. The inhumanity of war would haunt him for the rest of his life, but at least he did not have women and children on his conscience, and he did not intend to start now. He spotted his batman, Buffy, up ahead and rode quickly toward him. He rapidly issued orders as directed by General Ross to limit the destruction to those armed and government targets planned and avoid unnecessary civilian casualty. He saw the relief on the faces of his troops. Easton left his deputy in charge while he went to search for General Ross.
He rounded the corner of a building heading toward the Minister’s residence, where he hoped to find his leadership. He heard the crack of gunfire, and he quickly lowered himself over his horse. The Americans must be responding to the attack. He spurred his horse forward and dismounted in front of the residence. He felt an eerie sensation at his back and turned to find Knott heading toward him with sword and pistol drawn. He turned to head into the residence, then heard the crack of a pistol and felt a fiery explosion of pain in his back as he tumbled face down into the ground.
He felt a booted heel come crashing down on his head and the prick of a sword searing deep into his leg. Shouts came from nearby, and Easton felt the boot and sword be lifted from his person, and Knott was gone. Trying to rise proved futile as his head swirled and his leg buckled. He lay there in agony, feeling the blood rush from him until he could not make anything else out, and then faded into unconsciousness.