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“I suppose not. Did you hear from your mother? Is she demanding that you come back and be the Earl of Brixton?” His mouth curved. “Be the nobleman you can never be?”
Nathan had to smile at that. Everyone knew he hated his new title.
“This time it’s something different, Sir.” Nathan brought out his mother’s letter from inside his jacket. He had dressed appropriately to meet the general. He held out the letter. “She says that she’s dying.”
“Dying?” Sharpe took the letter and his eyes scanned it. “I didn’t realize she was a doctor.”
“Our personal doctor apparently said she is dying.”
“You don’t believe him?”
Nathan shrugged. “He likes to pander to Mother’s whims. She’s a lot stronger than people believe. I think she uses the doctor to claim she’s unwell, so she doesn’t get pushed into something she doesn’t want to do.”
“Like what?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet.”
Sharpe glanced up at him. “You think this is your mother trying to get you home, so you can carry out your duties in society?”
“I’m not entirely sure.”
“Explain.”
Sharpe was a clever man, and he listened to his officers. Nathan rolled his shoulders to loosen the knots that had been building.
“Something’s not quite right, Sir. She doesn’t write to me for over a year, and the last time we spoke was in anger because I wouldn’t stay after Father’s death. She wouldn’t let me know she was dying until after she’s in the ground, I know it. And now she sends me this, and it doesn’t read like her. It…” He tried to find the right word. “It doesn’t feel like her at all, more like she’s desperate.”
“That happens when you’re dying, and you’re scared.” Sharpe frowned. “But you don’t think she’s dying?”
“I think something’s going on and it’s frightened Mother enough that she needs me.”
“So, what do you want to do?”
Nathan knew what he wanted to do, but it didn’t make him feel any better. Still, he had to do it. He took a deep breath.
“She’s still my mother. I want to make sure she’s all right.”
“Understood.” Sharpe handed back the letter. “Well, I can put in a request for leave on your behalf and ensure your platoon has a commander while you’re on leave. I can’t do more than that. Things are quite tense right now, so you’ll understand if you can’t get it.”
“I understand.” Nathan rubbed his hands on his trousers. “I would rather be here fighting, doing something I’m actually good at, but I need to have my mind settled knowing that things are not as bad as they seem back home.”
“Understood.” Sharpe nodded. “Leave it with me. I should have a definitive answer by tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
That was the best he could ask for. Now he just had to wait.
Chapter Three
It came quicker than he thought. Sharpe entered his tent a mere three hours later, his hat tucked under his arm. Nathan had been so engrossed in his own thoughts despite the book in his hands that he hadn’t noticed immediately. He stood and saluted.
“General, Sir!”
“At ease, Captain.” Sharpe ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve had to move a few people around, but you’ve got your leave. Starting first thing in the morning.”
Nathan relaxed. He had been hoping that would be the case. He very rarely asked for leave, and Sharpe had to know he wouldn’t ask unless it was important, especially since the thought of going home didn’t make him happy. Nathan was expecting something had to have happened, and something big. Vanity Reynolds was up to something.
“How long have I got leave for?” he asked.
