With This Ring (24 page)

She laughed, relieved that his
irritation had dissipated. “I suppose you will tell me that was
common fare in the Peninsula.”

He nodded. “I’ve eaten horse every
way except on the half shell. On a long fork over a fire is best,
if the fuel is dried cow dung. It adds a certain piquancy not
unlike the addition of pepper. May I give you two a hand
up?”

He did, and she was charitable
enough to overlook the pain that she knew it caused him. He also
helped in an old lady with a bulging reticule, and a vicar who
appeared to be suffering from prolonged contact with communion
wine.

Lydia settled Maria on the seat with
her toy horse and towel doll. The major closed the door after him
but leaned forward to watch the coachman take his seat. He leaned
back finally. “Interesting,” he commented to no one in
particular.

“
What is?” she asked.

“
The coachman has a man seated
beside him with a pistol.”

“
Heavens,” Lydia said. She leaned
close to her husband to whisper, “I hope that does not startle this
little lady across from us.”

The lady across from them snorted
and patted her reticule. “I always travel this stretch with a
remedy for road agents.”

“
A bad area, eh?” the major asked,
trying to make himself comfortable on the seat, which was slick
from years and years of passengers’ rumps. He winked at her. “Do
you hit’um with your reticule, madam?”

She laughed and wheezed in equal
parts, winked back and settled herself for slumber. In another
moment she was snoring, to Maria’s fascination.

The vicar stirred from his corner
and spoke in a voice that almost sounded soggy. “The coachman
swears he sees road agents, but I think he just drinks too much.”
He closed his eyes again.

“
Well, you would likely know,” the
major commented. “Think of the adventure, Lydia.”

She nodded, then looked at him
shyly. “Thank you for not being angry about the traveling
arrangements.”

He gazed at her for a long moment,
then shrugged. “What would be the point? You were right to make me
stop last night.” He put his forehead against hers for emphasis.
“And I
do
feel better this morning.”

“
Very well, then,” she said softly.
“Mama would have scolded me for hours or ….” She
paused.

He took her hand and ran his finger
over her ring in a gesture that was becoming familiar to her.
“Those days are over, Lydia.” She shifted her gaze and leaned back,
unable to bear the intensity of his gaze. She opened her mouth to
speak, then closed it and looked away.

“
What, Lydia?” he asked finally.
“You’re miles away at the moment, and I know I am coming up
short.”

I sit in a carriage with people I do
not know, and I have to tell you something so personal, she
thought. I cannot do it, but I must. She took Maria in her lap so
she could move closer to him. “Sam, I could tell Mama things and
she would ignore me, or shout, or worse.”

“
I told you those ….” he began,
his voice as soft as hers, so she forgot her fear.

“
They’re not over, if you ignore me.
I know that you need to see a surgeon now. If it angers you, I am
sorry, but I tell you this from two or three weeks of actually
looking
at wounds like yours!”

“
But ….”

“
No, listen to me!” she continued,
taking his hands now while Maria squirmed. “I know you have seen
countless more battle wounds than I have, but have you seen many
hospital
wounds? Oh, my dear, I fear there is a
difference.”

She stopped then. Such
insubordination in Holly Street would have earned a back of the
hand from Mama. She looked at him cautiously to gauge his
expression, and discovered, in her concern and worry, that perhaps
she had wandered into a better pasture.

“
You are concerned,” he said
finally, with a tightening of his lips that made her momentarily
uneasy. Oh, I am asking too much, she thought in dismay. This is
where I should say I am sorry and promise not to tease him about
it, even though I know I must. But I cannot.

“
Sam, I am beyond mere concern now.
You must
listen
to me.”

She watched his expression, holding
her breath at first. I know what I am used to, she thought; pray
let this be different. She sat back then, overwhelmed by another
feeling. I must love him to care so much, she told herself. When
did this happen? She looked at him again, knowing that she had to
make him understand. “Please, Sam” was all she could think to
say.

It was his turn to hesitate. To her
relief, he seemed to come to some decision of his own. He shifted
Maria onto his own lap so he could move even closer to her and find
some measure of privacy. Even then, it was a moment until he could
speak. “Lydia, when General Picton’s surgeon prodded about in my
shoulder, I knew I could not stand another moment of
that.”

“
You can, Sam,” she said quietly,
knowing with all her instinct that she was witnessing a most
private side of him, one both devastating and human in a man sick
of war. I doubt anyone else has ever seen this side of him before,
she thought, both awed by the privilege and deeply aware of the
responsibility that was hers now. “I won’t leave you while it
happens. You couldn’t make me. If I could bear it for you, I
would.”

There were tears in his eyes now.
“Am I a coward, Lydia?” he asked, his voice low.

She sighed, knowing that she had
won. “You’re the bravest man I know, and you are sick of death and
war. You’ve been strong for a whole battery, Sam, and it’s enough.
You don’t have to be strong for me. I’d like to think a wife would
be mature enough not to require it.”

Let those be the right words, she
prayed when he was silent again. She opened her eyes and saw him
smiling at her, even though his eyes looked suddenly older than the
oldest things on earth.

“
Very well, Lydia Reed,” he said at
last. “At our next stop, you can find a surgeon.”

She swallowed back her own tears and
opened her mouth to speak when the carriage lurched to a stop.
Surprised, the major tightened his grip on Maria, but she slid off
onto the floor and burst into tears at his feet.

Above her wails, Lydia heard the old
lady across from her laughing and pointing out the window. “I told
you, missy,” she was saying.

“
Stop now! Stand and
deliver!”

“
R
oad
agents! Oh, hell’s bells!” the major said in disgust, as Lydia
retrieved Maria and held the sobbing child close to her. “Lydia, we
can’t afford this!”

“
Hush, Sam!” Lydia kissed Maria and
glanced out the window. Two masked men stood to the side of the
carriage, pointing their pistols at the driver and his armed
companion. The old woman seated across from her was bouncing up and
down in her excitement. “I told you! I told you!” she exclaimed.
“You two blaggards ought to be ashamed of yourselves, frightening
old ladies!” she shrieked through the window.

“
Please, madam, I suggest that you
calm down,” Lydia whispered, when one of the road agents pointed
his pistol in the woman’s direction.

Maria was whimpering now. Lydia
watched one of the men gesture with his pistol to the coachman. In
another moment she heard a gun thud to the road and then discharge,
the ball whistling right past the major’s head inside the coach.
Maria cried louder, and the woman clapped her hands in her
excitement.

“
I was safer in Spain,” the major
growled. “Thank God we had a guard along today for protection.
Lydia, incompetents chafe me raw!”

She glared at him. “Am I the only
one here besides Maria who is frightened?” she asked
pointedly.

“
It’s possible,” Sam said. “I am
about to lose my temper at the prospect of becoming quite broke.
You may have to sing and dance for our supper, Lydia. Maybe even
show a little ankle.” He glanced at the vicar, who was awake now
and rubbing his eyes. “It appears your prophecy was correct, sir,”
he said. “We have been set upon by road agents.”

The clergyman looked about,
muttering, “Oh, my, oh, my,” under his breath. He pulled a flask
from his coat, unstopped it, licked his lips, and drank deep. Lydia
watched in fascination as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.
Before he stopped it again, he looked at the major. “Would you like
some?” He giggled. “It’s a remedy for all evil.”

The major shook his head slowly,
amazement evident on his face. “No, thank you. I prefer to keep my
head in emergencies.”

The vicar seemed to think that was
the most amusing riposte he had ever heard. He giggled some more,
then burped. Even the old woman stopped her excited bouncing about
at the window to glare at him.

The vehicle lurched as the coachman
and his useless guard jumped down. One of the bandits jerked open
the carriage door, only to have it come off in his hands. He
blinked and stared at the door in his hands, then looked back at
the other road agent for confirmation.

“
Yer
tell
them to get out!”
the other man said. “And drop the stupid door, yer light
weight!”

He promptly did as directed, and the
corner of it landed on his foot. With a terrible oath, he leaped
about for a moment on one foot. The old woman clapped her
hands.

Her laughter brought him up short,
because he stopped and waved his pistol at them. “Get out, all of
you!”

With a frightened glance over his
shoulder, the coachman let down the step and helped Lydia from the
carriage. “Just do what they say,” he whispered. “These are bad
customers.”

She had no plans to do otherwise,
but up close, the road agents looked less than formidable, despite
their weapons. Shabby cloaks, shiny trousers, and boots that do not
match, she thought as she clutched Maria to her and moved quickly
from the carriage. “See here, sir!” she protested, when the man
took her arm and pulled her away from the coach.

“
Don’t you lay a finger on her,” the
major said as he followed her out.

“
It’s all right, Sam,” she said. She
wriggled free of the road agent’s grasp and tried to move closer to
her husband.

“
No, it isn’t!” he declared
indignantly. “She is my wife, and I will not have her treated that
way! And look how you have frightened our daughter. Shame on
you!”

Maria was sobbing in earnest now,
clinging to Lydia’s neck as the road agent took hold of her again
and dragged her away from the carriage.

“
Stand there, now,” he ordered and
released her. “And you over there.”

“
I’d rather stand with my wife,” Sam
argued. “It’s my place to stand beside her.”

The road agent’s helpless look
returned. He glanced around again at the other brigand. “You didn’t
tell me they would argue like this!”

“
Oh, Lord!” snapped the
man.

“
Ah, yes!” thundered the vicar as he
stepped from the coach. He pointed a finger at the road agent. “Woe
unto ye hypocrites who call upon the name of the Lord as ye are
about to rob us!” He jabbed his finger heavenward, then belched
again. “H’mmm. H’mmm. Strange indeed,” he murmured, and came to
stand beside the major. He looked at Sam. “It seems there must be
something appropriate to say at a time like this.” He shook his
head, as though to clear it. “I disremember whether it is in the
Book of Common Prayer.”

This can’t actually be happening,
Lydia thought as she held Maria close and quieted the child.
Apparently we have been set upon by amateurs, Major Reed is
inclined to argue, and the vicar is quite drunk. She looked around,
her eyes wide, as the coach’s guard began to weep. Oh, dear, and
the guard is a ninny.

“
If you’ve damaged my pistol by
making me drop it, I will be in real trouble!” he sobbed. “My da
will thrash me!”

“
Ah, that is it!” said the vicar,
gesturing dramatically. “Man is destined to trouble as the sparks
fly upward!”

“
Shut up!” Sam said, totally out of
patience.

“
Isn’t anyone going to help me from
the carriage?” asked the old woman, sounding like a disappointed
child. “I don’t want to miss a minute of this!”

She held out her arm for the
coachman, who took her to stand beside Lydia. “Keep her quiet if
you can,” he whispered to her.

“
Please, dear,” Lydia said. “I think
it best if we do not say anything.” She looked at the nearer agent.
“I do believe we are making him nervous.”

The woman nodded and cackled. As the
road agents ignored them and turned toward the men, she sidled
closer to Lydia and opened her bulging reticule.

Lydia’s mouth dropped open in
surprise. A pistol even larger than the one the road agent carried
lay, grip upright, in the woman’s bag.

“
My son’s,” the woman confided,
patting it. “He doesn’t know I have it.’”

“
I am certain he does not,” Lydia
whispered, when she could speak. “Is it
loaded
?”