With This Ring (34 page)

“
What it does to you is give you a
corn on your last toe, Lyddy,” he said. “I can see that you will
not be much further use to me without shoes better suited for
standing all day in a shop.”

She smiled at him, moved her feet
from his lap, and lay down while he tugged up the covers around her
and sat himself upright against the headboard in the stretching
exercise that Mr. Wilburn had recommended. She noticed that he
could do it now without wincing, even though he still held one
shoulder higher than the other. Perhaps he will always be that way,
she thought, without any diminution of her appreciation of him. Ah,
well.

“
People treat me as though they know
me, even though they do not,” she said, continuing her thesis even
as she composed herself for sleep. “The magistrate’s solicitor—you
do not remember, but he interviewed me that first day after the
robbery—was a customer today. From his address, you would have
thought we were comrades in the law, or something.” She closed her
eyes and moved her hip against Sam for his warmth. “I like it,
actually. I can talk so easily now with men that I am certain I can
hold my share in the Northumberland grain market, should you take
sick, die, and leave me a grieving but wealthy widow.”

She enjoyed his laugh. “I will do
nothing of the sort,” he protested. He rested his hand on her hip
and was silent for a long moment. “Actually, Lyddy, speaking of
that—or something like—Mr. Wilburn has put it forward to me that
tomorrow would be a good time to remove the stitches.” The weight
of his hand increased on her, and she turned to look at him,
knowing what she would see.

She took his hand. “Then, I will
send Mrs. Innis to the shop with a sign saying that we will open at
noon. I will be here with you, Sam.”

She was, of course, making no
comment to him when he cried even before the surgeon began, but
pressing his face against her bosom and consoling him for pain real
and imagined, as she would a child. How frightening it must be to
hurt just because you know you will hurt, she thought as he sobbed.
Sam, you are the bravest man I know, and possibly the most
honest.

He fainted before the doctor was
partly through, a heavy weight on her that she lowered carefully to
the bed. “Is he really in pain?” she asked Mr. Wilburn, as he
snipped and gently extracted the sutures.

“
No, lass, I think not. This part is
not so onerous. It’s his mind that is weary with it all,” the
surgeon replied. He sighed. “And who can blame him? I know I do
not.” He surveyed his handiwork, then rested his hand on Sam’s
back. “This, child, is glorious war. Which bears it worse, the mind
or the flesh?”

Sam regained consciousness in a few
minutes, embarrassed and choosing not to look at either of them,
but out the window instead. “You are not married to a brave man,”
he said at last, when Mr. Wilburn left.

She sat next to him and put her arm
around his waist. “A coward would never have soldiered through
Portugal, Spain, and France, Sam. You don’t like it when I am hard
on myself, so do not charge yourself with crimes you didn’t
commit.” She nudged him and handed him a folded piece of paper. “If
you want to suffer, look at this bill Mr. Wilburn has just left us.
I own my courage lacks right now.”

“
Silly nod,” he murmured as he
opened the paper. He looked at it for a long time, then kissed her
on the head suddenly with a loud smack. “Lyddy, many of my
relatives are from Scotland, considering our proximity to the
border.”

“
And? I suppose this is leading
somewhere.”

“
Certainly! When have I ever danced
you down a primrose path? Oh, don’t answer!” He looked at the
paper. “You already know that we lords of Laren are
eccentric.”

“
Without debate.”

“
We are also clutch-fisted and prone
to pinch farthings until they gasp for breath. What do you say,
when we have babies that we send for Mr. Wilburn? He is a great
economy.” He shook his head in amazement at the bill. “Lyddy, he
has charged us so little!” He looked at her. “I would tell you to
run after him and get the full reckoning, but all my Scots
ancestors would probably clutch at you with skinny-boned
fingers.”

She took the bill from him, blessing
Mr. Wilburn from the bottom of her heart. “This will mean I can
afford a post chaise for you, Sam. One more day will do
it.”

One more day was all she had,
anyway, according to the terms wrung from the barber’s widow. That
is it, she thought, as she finished the last haircut on the last
customer and the sun was going down. I cannot say I am sorry to see
the end of this, but I am grateful for the opportunity to do for
Sam what he could not do for himself. She swept the shop until the
floor almost gleamed in the last light of day. She did not leave
until the ashes in the stove were cool and bundled outside to the
ash can. Each cup was again in its place. She admired them one last
time, pleased that she had met most of their owners, tactiturn,
hardworking men whose time she had not wasted, and whose esteem she
knew she had earned. She stood in the doorway, looking inside. “I
know I will not see any of you again,” she whispered. “Thank you
for what you all did for me.”

She waited for the constable’s
nightly escort, knowing enough about him now to wish him well with
his pigs and cows, and to offer the hope that his mother would soon
be healthy again. She knew better than to offer him a gratuity for
his faithful nocturnal escort. She had already embarrassed him, and
knew better than to do it again.

“
Will you be leaving soon, Mrs.
Major Reed?” he asked as he stopped outside the tavern
door.

“
Soon enough,” she said. “I would
like another day or two here for Sam … for the major to
recuperate before I put him into a jolting coach for the journey
home.” She held out her hand, knowing it would cause the constable
agonies, but unable to stop her own gratitude of him and his
services. “Thank you.”

She doubted he had ever shaken a
woman’s hand before, but he rose magnificently to the occasion. “I
accept this in honor of our whole village, Mrs. Major Reed,” he
said, breathless with delight as he pumped her hand up and down.
“If you ever want to come back, why, we won’t even make you cut our
hair or shave our knobby faces!”

She was going to stop in the
Innises’ quarters as usual to visit and play with Maria, before
seeing to Sam, but she had only opened the door when Mrs. Innis
came to her in a hurry. “Is Sam ….” she began, wondering if
there was ever a time in her life from now on when any quick
movement or excitement wouldn’t compel her to sudden
fear.

“
Mrs. Reed, he is better than we
are! Heaven knows he has had more rest in the past week or two than
you, what with your work and worry on his behalf,” Mrs. Innis said.
She touched Lydia’s arm, her eyes bright with interest. “Mrs. Reed,
the son of the justice of the peace is upstairs! He said he wanted
to see you in particular, so I cannot imagine why he is still
plaguing Mr. Reed, but some men don’t know about convalescents, do
they?”

“
Indeed they do not, Mrs. Innis,”
she declared as she started immediately for the stairs. “If he is
exhausting Sam, I will be disturbing
his
peace.”

She came into the room quickly, then
stopped in surprise. Sam was resting, as she had expected, but the
other man had propped his long legs on the bed with a familiarity
that amazed her. They must have been enjoying a huge joke, because
Sam was wiping tears from his eyes, even as he wheezed with
laughter. She stared.

“
Oh, hullo,” said the man, regarding
her with nothing less than real interest. He looked at Sam. “Major,
you never spoke truer words. She
is
a looker. How did you
manage?”

“
I couldn’t get her sister!” Sam
said, then started off in another spasm of amusement that had him
pressing his arm against his shoulder. “My dear Lydia would have it
that she is not the handsome one in her family, so I am pleased
that she can hear some contradiction, Percy, from an unbiased
source! She
is
a looker.”

Lydia frowned and looked from one
man to the other. This is such a casual village, she thought as she
slowly removed her bonnet and set it aside. Sam even calls him
Percy, as though …. She paused, her eyes widening, as the men
looked at each other with the easiness of old friends. Somewhere in
the back of her brain, a bell rang, and then another. Soon her
whole head felt as though it were a jangle of noise.

“
Sam,” she began, her voice heavy
with suspicion.

The other man laughed and tipped
himself back even farther in the chair. “Major, my knowledge of the
ladies is even less than yours, I think, but I do know that tone of
voice. I think you have landed yourself into the basket.” He tipped
the chair up and rose just as quickly to tower over her. “Should I
wait outside until you have greased your way through what I suspect
is going to be a delicate introduction?” He started to laugh.
“Lord, but this is amusing. Don’t you wish General Picton were
here?”

“
Not especially,” Sam said. He
patted the bed. “Do have a seat, Lydia.”

She sat.

“
And do put down your bag of coins.
I don’t want another injury just now.”

She kept it firmly in her
lap.

“
May I have the honor of introducing
the son of the justice of the peace? Lydia, this is Sir Percy
Wilkins. Now, I know what you are think ….”

“
Lieutenant
Percy Wilkins?”
she asked, interrupting him. She glared at Sam, then turned her
attention to the lieutenant, who was still on his feet. “He of
Battery B?”

Percy nodded and extended his hand
to her. “Yes, indeed, madam, Picton’s finest.”

“
You live in this district,” she
stated, making every effort to keep her voice conversational. She
shook his hand. “And Sam, of course, knows that you live
here.”

“
Mercy, he has always known I lived
near Merry Glade. Just forever! Oh, dear.” He hesitated, even as
Sam winced. “That seems to be the delicate matter at this moment,
mum, wouldn’t you say? I know I would, and heaven knows I just
stumbled onto this situation. Dear me, Sam, am I talking too much?”
He ran his finger around his collar as she continued to look from
one man to the other.

“
It would seem that way, Percy,” the
major said, his eyes on the bag of coins. “Do shut up.”

Lieutenant Percy giggled. “Oh, sir,
I think we are ‘way beyond that.” He turned a kindly eye on Lydia.
“Wouldn’t you agree, mum?”

“
C
ertainly,” said Lydia. “Do sit down again, Sir
Percy.” She turned slightly to regard her husband. “Husband, you
are in such trouble.”

“
I thought perhaps I was,” he
agreed.

She was silent then, thinking about
the events of the past three weeks, even as she knew her husband
was regarding her with considerable anxiety. As she observed him,
she was struck by the fact that this was an expression she had not
seen too often in their short history together, and this, she was
forced to admit, provided her with some secret amusement. It’s nice
to know that you are not always supremely confident, she thought,
especially where I am concerned.

“
You knew from the moment we were
rescued from the road agents, didn’t you?” she asked finally, as
she considered the matter.

To Sam’s credit, he looked at her
with a frown. “I really don’t remember what happened during the
robbery.”

Percy laughed. “Lord, if I know the
major, he was probably arguing with the road agent! Sam, do you
remember the time in Valladolid ….”

“
Not Valladolid,” Sam said in a
hurry. “Percy, do be silent before I am standing deep in my
own … well, do be silent.”

Lydia thought herself quite
charitable to not question him about Valladolid. It could probably
wait. “Yes, indeed, he was arguing. As I remember now, when our
rescuer said he was taking us to Merry Glade, you said, ‘Oh,
excellent.’ Sam, Sam!”

Apparently silence and Percy were
not well acquainted, she decided. The lieutenant leaped into the
conversation again. “That farmer is one of my tenants, Mrs. Reed,
and he rehearsed all these events with me.” He gazed on his former
commander with such a look of benevolence that Lydia was
hard-pressed to retain her composure. “Really, Sam, you know how
nice the accommodations are at my place! Mama will be quite put out
when I tell her you passed up nearly a month at her home to stay in
a public house,” he chided.

Lydia raised her hand to stop the
flow of words. “Sir Percy, in all fairness, I am not sure that Sam
had another coherent thought for a week, beyond that one. He was so
ill.” She rested her hand on his blanketed leg and gave Sam a
brilliant smile. “And some would probably argue that he hasn’t had
a coherent thought since! Husband, why didn’t you
say
something? Just a word or two, and you could have been in more
comfortable surroundings.”

“
You, too, mum,” Percy chimed in.
“I’d have been glad to loan you a packet to pay the surgeon and
sent you on your way rejoicing.” He glared at his major in mock
distress. “Sir, you should have known that. You
must have
known that!”