“Remarkable young lady you married, Harrington. I congratulate you for having such good sense.”
“Thank you, sir. I agree she is extraordinary.” He glanced around for something to keep him occupied, but he wasn’t sure what he should be doing. Since Geoff arrived, everything had been in such turmoil. “I await your instructions, sir.”
Sir Charles’s remarks about Elizabeth reminded Geoff of what his father had said just before he and she left to come here. He hadn’t thought to tell his father that he had come to care for her deeply. He cared for her even more now but had no words to define what he felt for her. All he knew was that he wanted to follow the path they were on to see where it would lead.
“Instructions?” Sir Charles gave a gruff snort. “I am instructed to keep the English calm. Wellington doesn’t want everyone panicking.”
“From what I’ve seen,” Geoff retorted, “our ladies have been damn phlegmatic. Yesterday my wife was cutting linen for bandages, and I’d wager that as soon as she sees the carnage in the streets, she’ll be out there doing her bit in any way she is able.”
“I did not want my lady wife here, but I understand what it’s like not to want to be separated.” Sir Charles stared out the window for several seconds. “Harrington, if the impossible occurs and the French start marching this way, send her to Antwerp straightaway. Don’t even think of doing anything else. In any war, the women always get the worst of it.”
A feeling of dread rose in Geoff and for several moments he couldn’t breathe. Nothing could happen to Elizabeth.
He still refused to believe Wellington would lose, but if it did happen, the only thing on his mind would be to safeguard his wife. Geoff would not and could not allow her to be harmed. “She will be ready, sir.”
“Good man. Take care of your own. That’s all we can do.”
The rest of the day was spent waiting for dispatches and assuring their anxious fellow countrymen that all was proceeding as planned. They received a report about a group of Flemish cavalry riding through Brussels creating havoc and shouting that the French were on their heels.
It turned out to be no such thing, but once again, English gentlemen besieged their office wanting to know if they should take their families and flee.
By the time Geoff left for the day and was trudging up therue Royale,he’d had his fill of comforting panicked gentlemen.
Up ahead his wife was kneeling in the road giving a wounded soldier a drink of something from a flask. The man had a fresh bandage around his head, and his arm was in a sling.
Elizabeth’s gown was dirty with streaks of blood on her skirts and bodice. Her face was drawn, her hair escaped every way it could from under her bonnet, but her chin had a mulish cast, and she was scowling at a gentleman standing on the pavement.
He had no doubt she was arguing with the man, refusing to leave until the soldier was taken somewhere he could be cared for. Vickers, looking worse for wear herself, strode toward Elizabeth, leading a local woman to the soldier. When the woman saw the soldier she kneeled down and motioned to a young man following behind.
By this time Geoff was close enough to make out what the woman was saying.
“He lives with us.” To the young man she said, “Go quickly and fetch the cart. The sergeant must be put in bed and the doctor sent for.”
“I can walk, madam,” the soldier insisted. “Just need some help.”
“Thank you, milady,” the Belgian woman curtseyed. “We will take care of him.”
The English gentleman shrugged and walked away.
Geoff helped Elizabeth to her feet, and put his arm around her waist. “Are you all right? When was the last time you ate?”
He started walking with her the rest of the way to their house. “Yes,” she replied rather distractedly. “I knew it would be horrible, I just did not realize how dreadful the reality would be.” Attempting to tuck her hair back under her hat, she laughed rather distractedly. “Did that make any sense at all?”
By Jove’s beard, she humbled him. All he had been doing that day was reassuring people, and he’d been bloody tired of that. She had been bandaging gaping wounds and finding the Bruxellois who had housed the injured.
A sudden need to tend to her himself came over him. He didn’t understand the compulsion, but there it was. “You could not have been other than shocked at such carnage and waste of life.”
By the time they had walked the few blocks to their house her head lay against his shoulder.
When they entered the hall, Vickers began giving orders for a bath to be filled for Elizabeth. Geoff made sure the maid ordered one for herself as well.
It would be ironic if this war brought them back to each other. Yet strangely, that was exactly what seemed to be occurring. At least from his point of view.
Geoff had never really looked beyond her qualifications as his wife and having a comfortable marriage. It never occurred to him that he would worry about her.
Later that evening as he held her in his arms, Elizabeth lifted her head up and kissed him. Geoff was so shocked, he almost forgot to return the gesture. The kiss was warm and sweet, and full of a longing stronger than he had ever experienced before.
“Take me to bed.” She kissed him again.
