Lydia had finally given up waiting, when she heard the knocker fall on the door. She anxiously opened the door to find Andrew Abbott standing before her, not Nathaniel. That could not be good. She stood staring at Andrew for a moment, searching his eyes for answers and not wanting to hear the words she knew were coming. What she saw in his eyes immediately threw her into despair –her worst fears become reality. If only she hadn’t had the short glimpse of heaven.
“Is he…gone?”
Andrew hesitated, “I fear it is so. He has not yet been found. I have been searching since the battle was over, with no luck. I came to let you know. I am going back to search until I find him. I will return to help you afterwards.”
Lydia wanted to be strong in that moment. It was what she had feared, what she deserved, but her heart did not believe. It refused to let go. Her throat tightened, and she found she could not speak. She felt his arms come around her and hold her tight as sobs overcame her. He eventually released his hold on her as her weeping quieted.
“I must go, but I will return soon.”
“I am going with you.”
“I do not think that is a good idea. Nathaniel would want you to remember him as he was. You should never know what it is like out there.”
“It cannot be worse than I have imagined and seen here these few days. Please. I need to do this.”
Andrew must have seen the desperation in her face, for he nodded reluctantly.
“Would you mind saddling the grey mare at the stables, while I inform Nurse where I am going?”
Once done, Lydia and Andrew rode and in silence most of the way to the battlefield. It was a slow ride, for the roads were littered with carts and the wounded and, as they drew close to the battlefield, dead bodies. Fortunately, on horseback, they were able to cut across fields.
Andrew spoke as they drew near to the farm of La Haye Sainte, the last place he had seen Nathaniel alive. “Lady Lydia, are you sure you want to continue? I have been a soldier for six years and have never seen anything so horrid as this.”
“Of course I am not sure, but if he has not been found and there is still a chance... I cannot live with myself until we find him – either way.”
Andrew seemed to understand. He nodded and led the way. They were forced to dismount and tie their horses to a tree. The bodies were piled everywhere, having died where they fell. There were thousands upon thousands of bodies and parts, mangled and distorted. Lydia fought back nausea. She would have perhaps been all right if she had not had to look at the faces, or smelled the stench of smoke mixed with sweat, blood and death.
She limited her search to the bodies in red tunics, but they were innumerable. She shuddered, but kept going, trying to numb her emotions. Andrew wandered off in a different direction, talking to everyone he encountered.
There were many other women out searching for their husbands, wailing when they found them. Lydia began to lose hope with each mutilated body she saw. The eyes of death were what would haunt her, she knew. Hundreds of soldiers were also out searching for the wounded in hope of finding survivors, but the conditions were impossible in the darkness. Andrew returned with some lanterns.
“No one has seen Nathaniel since the final surge. I do not know how long these lanterns will last, but we are useless without them.”
“At least we know the last time he was seen alive. Does anyone know which direction he went?”
“The surge was toward the right of the chaussée. I learned that Lord Uxbridge was hit in the leg and has been taken to the surgeon at Headquarters. I am going that way to see if I can learn anything there. It is possible Nathaniel accompanied him.”
Lydia carried on while Andrew sought out the makeshift hospital. She directed her search toward the right as Andrew had recommended. At times, she saw visions so horrific that tears overcame her. She had heard and read about battles, but no one could accurately put into words the carnage, or what it was like to see thousands upon thousands of dead all around you. She made it to the end of the open space near a copse of trees and sat to rest for a few moments. She would never be able to erase these visions, or the sounds that the wounded and dying were making. She wished she could either help, or that she had her own gun with unlimited shots to relieve them of the misery as they begged for her to do. She had no idea how long she had been searching. Her lantern had run out of oil, so it had to have been several hours.
She forced herself back to her feet to search some more, for what if Nathaniel were lying somewhere wounded and dying? The thought of that gave her a rush of energy. She looked back over the area she had searched, trying to maintain her bearings in the darkness. She did not know if Andrew would be able to find her again, but she kept going until the bodies at last became sparse as she reached the edge of the battlefield. There she met a few French out looking for their own survivors and asked if there were any other places where wounded had been taken.
One soldier saw her face in the breaking light of dawn, covered with dirt and streaks of tears, and must have taken pity on her. He offered her a drink and asked in broken English, “Who do you look for?”
“Colonel Fairmont of the cavalry. He wore a red tunic when last I saw him.” She spoke in French to ease the soldiers understanding.
“I am not familiar with that name. The English one they call Achilles was taken to a nearby farmhouse. I do not know if this is whom you seek.”
“I do not know either, but I am desperate. Can you tell me the way?” Lydia asked, trying not to get excited. That name could be anyone.
“It is over the hill, perhaps half a mile. Do you have a horse?”
She nodded. “I left it near La Haye Sainte, tied to a tree. Should I retrieve her?”
“Yes, it will be a long way back for you.”
After retrieving the mare, she had difficulty mounting her because of her exhaustion.
“Let me help you.” She turned to find Andrew standing behind her.
“Oh, thank God. I did not know if I would see you again. Did you find him?”
Andrew shook his head. “And no one seems to know. The good news is that no one saw him go down either.”
“A French soldier told me they took the one they call Achilles to a nearby farmhouse. I was about to go there now.”
“By Jove, that’s Nathaniel! That is what they call him!” He excitedly threw her up into the saddle and mounted his own horse.
“Lead the way!”
Lydia and Andrew could not get to the small farmhouse fast enough. They went as fast as possible, dodging bodies, hedges, and trees. By the time they reached the farm, Lydia’s stomach was in knots. She had no idea what they would find when they went inside. What if the French soldier had been wrong? Andrew helped her dismount but stopped her before they went into the house.
“Let me go in first. He might not even be here.”
Lydia did not want to wait, but she knew Andrew was right. She nodded and stood by the door.
She grew impatient after she had waited several minutes. She began to pace back and forth, fearing the worst. When Andrew finally came back outside he looked like he had seen a ghost.
“Is it him?”
Andrew nodded but remained silent.
“I am going inside.” Andrew grabbed her arm and pulled her back as she made for the door.
“Lydia, wait.” She stopped and looked at Andrew. “He is in poor shape...he’s dying.”
Lydia did not need to hear any more. She tore herself from Andrew’s hold and ran into the house. She was not prepared for what she saw. Several wounded soldiers were lying all over the tiny parlour, bandaged and bleeding. She looked from body to body, frantically searching for him. A wrinkled old woman finally told her the one she looked for was in another room, pointing and nodding her head towards a bedroom off the parlour. Lydia fixed her attention on making her way to that door. When she entered the room, Andrew had caught up with her.
Nathaniel was unrecognizable. Half of his face was bandaged, the other half covered with dirt and blood. A bandage covered part of his arm where his hand used to be. His shirt had been torn from his body, and a doctor was holding pressure to a stomach wound that would not stop bleeding. His body was shaking and he was groaning in agony. When she recovered herself, she went over to his side and took his right hand. His batman, Ajax, had moved out of the way to allow her by Nathaniel’s side.
“Nathaniel. It is Lydia. I am here, my love.”
He struggled to open his right eye and turned his head slightly toward her. He tried to speak but the effort was too great.
“Shh. Do not try to speak. I am here now.”
A tear fell from his eye. Lydia struggled to control her emotions.
Nathaniel’s breathing became more laboured and the doctor began urging her in French to leave.
“He has lost too much blood for me to save. I gave him a large dose of medicine. Let him die in peace. This is no place for a lady.” The doctor handed over the job of holding Nathaniel’s bandage and went on to find a patient he could save.
Lydia did not know what to do. She did not want to leave his side, but the doctor clearly felt her presence was making Nathaniel suffer. Andrew gently began leading her toward the door. She shook her head. Before she let go of his hand, Nathaniel managed to say, “I am sorry.” His mouth was dry and she held a drink of brandy to his lips. “Tell….Amelia.”
She bent over and gently kissed him. She whispered, “I will. I will tell her you love her…and I love you,” into his ear and let herself be pulled away.
She held herself together until they were outside the house.
Andrew tried to hug her, but she pushed him away.
“Go be with him, so he does not have to die alone.”
“He would not want me to leave you,” Andrew protested.
“I need to be alone. I can find my way back. I need to be with our little girl. Go. He needs you.”
Andrew obviously did not wish to leave her in this state, but he visibly struggled with what was best.
“Go! Please!” She walked over and tried to mount her horse. Andrew held his hands for her, and then squeezed her hand before turning away.
She turned and watched Andrew walk back to the house before urging the horse forward. She stopped several times, wanting to go back and be with Nathaniel, but talked herself into continuing, not wanting to worsen his suffering. Leaving Nathaniel dying in pain was the hardest thing she had had to do, next to leaving her infant daughter in someone else’s care.
She rode on for several miles, barely able to see through her tears. She needed to be able to control herself before telling Amelia that the father she just met had already been taken from her. She did not know how she would be able to go on, herself.
Watching Lydia ride off, Andrew had second thoughts. He knew in his heart that Nathaniel would want him to help her, not wait hopelessly for him to die. He walked back in to find Ajax crying over his master’s immobile body.
Andrew sucked in his breath. “Is it finished then?”
Ajax nodded without looking up, too heartbroken to speak.
Andrew walked over and put his arm on Nathaniel, still warm, unable to believe.
Ajax handed him Nathaniel’s ring which he had removed from Nathaniel’s hand.
“Thank you, I will return this to his father. Will you see that his body is returned to the Duke? I must look after Lady Fairmont. It was his wish.”
“Of course, Major. I would do nothing less for my master.”
Andrew gave Nathaniel a final salute then turned on his heel to go after Lydia.