Married At Midnight (6 page)

She awoke alone on her bed to noises, misty morning light, and a deep weariness. Then she remembered her baby and turned to him.

He was gone.

So was the captain!

She ripped back the curtain and met the startled eyes of the soldiers all involved in packing their possessions. Clutching her blanket closer around herself, she desperately searched for her child.

She almost screamed. He was in the hands of a haggard dirty creature who was baring huge yellow teeth at him. But then she came to her senses. It was amiable Peabody, who couldn't help having teeth the size and color of a horse's.

The door swept open and Kate huddled further in her blanket as cool air blasted her. The door slammed shut. The captain had returned. In his red braided jacket and tall black boots he once more seemed the charismatic man she'd always found fascinating. And rather daunting.

Had they really kissed in the night? Had he confessed to having always wanted to kiss her?

She never would have guessed, particularly from the cool, assessing glance he flicked over her now.

Whatever they had been to each other in the night, she was now a problem to be dealt with.

Belatedly, she realized that the weather outside, though chilly, had been clear and sunny. Traveling weather if she was up to it. She had to be up to it. Assessing herself, she felt stiffness and some tenderness between her legs, but no particular aches and pains. She'd probably tire easily, but she could try to walk back to camp.

Perhaps she looked afraid, for the captain's expression changed. He grinned for her in the devil-may-care way that the whole regiment recognized as a sign that Charles the Bold was about to take on death again.

And win.

She hoped.

She'd married the man.

She must have been mad. She could never cope with such energy, such risk-taking, and he could never have really intended to tie himself to a woman such as she.

In their last devastating encounter, Dennis had clearly told her that she should never have expected that even a son of

the gentry would marry into trade, and he'd been right. Though she'd loved him for himself, she'd been extremely flattered by his attentions. Captain Charles Tennant was undoubtedly far, far above her touch.

He rescued the baby from the doting Peabody and came over, the child a tiny bundle in his big right arm.

"We just wanted to let you rest as long as possible. But it's time to move."

No "Are you able?" she noticed.

Pushing weariness aside, she said, "It certainly is," and took the hand he extended. She was sure his pull contributed

as much as her rather shaky legs, but she hoped he didn't notice. If he believed she could not cope, he'd be on the

horns of a terrible dilemma.

How far could she walk today, though? Perhaps out of sight would be far enough.

"Are you in pain?" he asked curtly, shattering her hopes of looking indomitable.

"No. A little fragile, perhaps. Heavy inside. I'll be all right."

"Then what are you thinking?"

She smiled for him. "Nothing bad. Just that none of this seems real."

"Oh, it's real enough." He snapped a few commands to his men and they finished gathering their stuff in double time and rushed out the door followed by Peabody carrying a big pot of porridge. "They'll eat outside while we get you decent."

Kate bit her lips to control a smile. Charles the Bold was definitely back in form.

The baby, however, didn't recognize his authority and begin to wail. The captain scowled down at him then put the

infant into her arms. "I suppose you'd better feed him. Don't take long."

Self-conscious in the daylight, Kate tried to slide the baby under his shirt, but the business was still sufficiently tricky

that she gave up. A glance showed that he'd courteously turned away. "I suppose I had better name him,"

she said.

His back gave no indication of mood, but she thought there was a touch of humor when he said, "We certainly can't

call him baby forever."

She liked that "we" but didn't place much dependence on it, and forever was not a concept that had any meaning for

her at the moment. She looked down at the baby, who almost seemed to be frowning in concentration as he suckled.

A fierce little thing. What name would suit him? Certainly not Dennis. And not Charles, either, tempting though it was. Her father was called Augustus, which she did not favor.

"Do you have any suggestions?" she asked.

"A good friend of mine died not long ago. His name was Stephen..."

Kate remembered Major Stephen Courtenay—a rather serious man, who liked to consider all the angles of anything. Dennis had found him infuriating, but no one had denied that he was honest, brave, and sensibly caring of all the men

in his command. He'd been sincerely mourned.

She hadn't been aware of a close bond between the major and the captain, but the major would have been foil to Charles the Bold's occasional fiery impulses.

"Stephen, then," she said, but without a last name, for it seemed absurd to call the child Stephen Tennant.

As absurd

as to call herself Mrs. Tennant.

She left such conundrums for later.

The captain went to the door and called Mr. Right-well. In moments the baby was christened, with Private Peabody

and Corporal Milwood standing proxy for godparents back in England—Kate's sister Anne and the captain's cousin, Thomas.

When the others had retreated outside again, he went with them, saying, "I'll get you some porridge."

In moments he was back, and he started to spoon

feed her as she fed the baby.

"In a hurry, are we?" she asked between glutinous mouthfuls. She was sure the stuff was nutritious, but she'd never before tried to eat it without sugar and cream.

"Yes." He pushed another spoonful into her. "I've to find my regiment and you must be out of here before the fighting starts."

As if summoned by his words, a distant boom stilled both of them. A cannon. Silence followed and so

they both

relaxed a little.

The baby—Stephen—had finished and so she quickly changed him, bundled him up, and placed him on the ground. Then she took off the captain's ruiried shirt and began to struggle back into the bodice of her dress.

"Hold on." He came over, pulling out his sharp knife. "You've got to be able to feed him on the road."

Pulling the

bodice away from her, he slashed through over both breasts then helped her into it.

"I can hardly walk around like this!" she protested while trying to bundle her heavy hair up with the few pins still caught

in it.

"With your cloak on top, you'll be all right." He brushed her hands away and began to drag a comb through her hair.

"Ouch!"

"Sorry. Hell, it's a mess." The next thing she knew, he'd just pulled it back and tied it with something, probably a piece

of twine. "Once you get back to the baggage carts and the women you can get yourself in order again.

There. You'll do."

"I see I will have to!" she retorted, but she was laughing. "You are a tyrant, sir."

A touch of humor lightened his grim face. "When I have to be. Can you use a pistol?"

"Yes."

He gave her one which she instantly recognized as Dennis's.

"I've had all his possessions put in the cart."

"Cart?"

"The one that brought you. It's on the way back and had room."

"You might have said! I've been steeling myself to walk."

He ignored that. "The pistol's loaded, so be careful." He suddenly stilled to look at her. "I've never been married before."

"Neither have I." She instantly regretting the sharp edge to it.

He brushed his knuckles down her cheek. "Don't be bitter, Kate. It never helps." His knuckles brushed over her lips. "Be bold instead."

"Very well." She stretched up to kiss him quickly but firmly on the lips. "Thank you, Charles the Bold.

For everything."

He looked at her in some confusion for a moment before the officer snapped back into place. "Come.

You must be off."

He gathered up her bundle and blankets while she picked up the sleeping baby. At the door she turned.

Strange though

it might seem, she was going to miss this place.

Then another distant boom shook the air, dragging her back to the practical moment, and she hurried out to the familiar cart, now holding four wounded soldiers, one of them in a very bad way. Mr. Rightwell was standing beside the cart, clearly intending to walk.

The men were already in line ready to march in the opposite direction. Toward danger.

The captain picked her up and placed her in the cart, her belongings beside her. "Doesn't sound as if there's fighting between you and the main camp. If you need anything, ever. Thomas Tennant.

March-mont Hall. Strode Kingsley.

Got that?"

"Yes."

"God go with you!"

As if that were a command, the driver cracked his whip, and the cart jerked off along the rough track.

"God go with you, too," Kate said softly to all the soldiers marching briskly away from her.

* * *

On the slow journey back to the main camp, exhaustion felled Kate. The baby, too, seemed worn out by his adventures and scarcely bothered her, but the excited cries and welcoming arms of the women stirred a smile. Kate felt home and safe.

She slept. She woke when someone brought the baby to feed, but never had to fetch him, or clean him.

He had learned the business as quickly as any healthy animal and only needed her breast close to suck lustily until he gave up, replete, milk trickling from the corner of his soft sleepy mouth.

"Little glutton," she murmured to him as she wiped away the dribble.

"That's men for you."

"All of them?" Kate smiled up at Red Jess who was sitting ready to take Stephen away. Jess was a strapping woman in her fifties who'd borne many a child to many a man. Her red hair was fading into gray but nothing had faded her vitality.

"All of them," said Jess with a grin. "They're all greedy for something. Just find out what it is, and you've got them round your finger."

"Aren't we greedy for things, too?" Kate realized she was awake and alert again. A little part of her wished she weren't, for there were problems to be faced, but all in all it was good to be clear-headed and with energy.

"Of course we are. Affection and someone to care for, mostly. Why else do we put up with babies?"

Jess grinned, showing strong teeth marred by only one gap. Kate had heard the tooth had been knocked

out in a fight and she could believe it.

She liked Jess. She admired her. But she didn't want to be like her. She didn't want to spend the rest of her life with the army.

Clearly, during her semiconscious recovery, her brain had been working over the problems, and that was one of the answers. She was married to an army officer, though.

And that was another of the problems.

"What's the matter, luv?" Jess asked. "You're not in pain, are you?"

"No. Not at all. In fact, I think it's time to get up and get on with things."

"That's my girl." Jess scooped up the sleeping baby in one arm and extended the other to Kate. It was nearly as big and muscular as the captain's and brought back poignant memories of that strange night.

Kate accepted the help to scramble up off the low cot bed, let the world steady, and then nodded.

"Definitely better."

"You'll enjoy some fresh air, too. I'll just take the nipper off and freshen him up. You get yourself dressed. Shall I send someone to help you?"

"No, I'll be fine."

Kate hastily dressed, finding that she could squeeze into her less tight-fitting garments. Feeling almost normal, she stepped out of the tent into fresh air.

And into unnatural calm.

Mary Milwood sat by a fire stirring a pot.

"Where is everyone?" Kate asked her.

"Battle, ducks. Feeling perkier?"

Kate saw then the dark worry in the young woman's eyes. Mary called herself Gillet and appeared to be the true mate

of Corporal Milwood. As with Kate, however, no one ever asked for proof.

So, there was a full battle going on, and the only troops here were the lightly wounded left to guard the baggage and the baggages, as it was put.

Oh God.

"Sorry about the lieutenant, ducks."

Mary's voice pulled Kate out of worry over Captain Tennant. She almost said, "Dennis?" but stopped herself in time. She couldn't pretend deep grief, however.

"It's all right," said Mary with a wry smile. "It's been clear awhile that it weren't all roses with you two.

And he had sent you home. But still, he's dead. His son's fatherless."

It dawned on Kate then that no one seemed to know about the captain and their strange marriage. "What happened to Mr. Rightwell?"

"Who? Oh, that parson. Once he were sure you were in good hands, he went on his way. Important business in Brussels, he said."

Fortunately Jess reappeared at that moment with the well-bundled baby, and laid him on a blanket in a safe corner near a couple of older babies. Children ran around the camp like wild animals. They were happy and generally healthy, but

it was not as Kate wanted her son to grow.

Dennis's son, legally the captain's.

What a tangle.

Other women appeared, all with some kind of work in hand, and sat to talk about men and babies. They didn't speak

of the battle, even though cannon fire could be heard. None of these women were whores—available to any man. The whores kept to themselves in another part of the camp. All of these woman had a man involved in the fighting, and some of those men wouldn't come back.

Kate had been through this twice before in her time with the army. It didn't get any easier.

They wanted to hear the story of the birth, and it was as good a distraction as any. Her account of the men's panic, and Captain Tennant's command of the event had them all laughing. No one asked why she'd gone into a battle zone in such a condition, and she didn't mention her last-minute marriage.

Perhaps they guessed, but people never asked too many questions here.

Kate wished she could speak of it and ask advice, but it was impossible. Her desperation to have a legal father for her child might be seen as an insult by these women, who stuck by one man at a time but rarely bothered with legal ceremonies. She also didn't want to claim to be married to the captain until he was here to support the story. True, this time she had her marriage lines, but with Mr. Right-well gone, her witnesses were the captain's own men. If they denied the whole thing, then where would she be?

And did she even want to be the acknowledged wife of Captain Tennant? Did he want to be husband to her?

What moon-madness had seized them?

The battle proved to be as bad as everyone had feared, but the captain wasn't among the dead. He wasn't among those returning to the camp, either, and by the time the army moved to safer ground, Kate still didn't know exactly where he was.

She could have asked, of course, but she hesitated to draw any particular attention to their situation.

Everyone was accepting her as Dennis Fallowfield's unofficial widow, her child as his son.

For three weeks she waited for word from the captain. Silence in itself was telling. Their marriage had been mere impulse, and he must be regretting it.

Then one day the company paymaster gave her the sum of fifty guineas. "Widow's allowance," he said, but accompanied it with a wink.

"Lieutenant Fallowfield arranged for this?"

"Let's just say it's fair and aboveboard." And though she pressed him, he would say no more.

Dennis had always been short of funds, and when he'd given her ten guineas for her journey home, he'd acted as if he was squeezing out blood. Any official money would only go to a legal wife.

Walking back to her tent—Dennis's tent—Kate was sure the money had been arranged by the captain.

He'd managed to arrange money for her, but sent no message? It was as good as a message. It said, "Go away."

She remembered then that his last words to her had been about a cousin in Strode something. At the very least that translated into, "Go back to England."

He must be waiting for her to leave before returning to his regiment! Though she couldn't blame him, tears ached

around her eyes.

She hid the hurt and arranged to return to England with a slow train of wounded heading for the coast and a naval ship. She'd work her passage by nursing the men.

She'd be glad to be home again, she assured herself, home with her friends, her family, and the peace of her father's shop. If Captain Charles Tennant wanted to speak to her about their situation, he could always find her there.