Page 53 of The Lady's Companion
Her unprofitable meanderings were relieved by the appearance of Lady Bushnell, who swept into the room, looking almost as disordered as Susan felt, followed by a thin woman in black with a tape measure around her neck, and a man with a sheaf of papers that threatened to spill from his grasp.
“Stop!” Lady Bushnell commanded, raising her hand to the people who almost trampled on her heels. The bailiff turned around in surprise, startled by the circus behind her. Perhaps you were not thinking of Lady Bushnell, Susan considered as shewatched him. Then what, sir?
“Madam, how can I finish fitting your wedding gown if you dart about like a minnow?”
“Madam, I must know if you want hothouse plants or spring blossoms for the ballroom. Colonel March says he is allergic to pussy willows, phlox, and lilies. I really must know! The suspense is killing me!” He waved the papers to cool himself, and they fluttered down like leaves from an autumn tree.
With a sigh, Lady Bushnell sat down and glared at the modiste and florist. “Take yourselves off for five minutes!” she said through clenched teeth. The modiste glared right back, but the florist took her arm and pulled her from the room, closing the door behind him with an audible click.
“Colonel March doesn’t much care for daisies, either,” David said from his place by the hearth. “Lady Bushnell, I had no idea that you were marrying my Colonel March. Congratulations!”
Oh, but you have a way with women, Susan thought as she watched Lady Bushnell visibly collect herself and relax ever so slightly.
“He is the best, isn’t he?” she said quietly as she patted the chair beside her. “Sergeant Wiggins, you remind me how lucky I am.” She smiled. “Can you not stay around here for two weeks and organize this ... this ... balloon ascension I seem to find myself trapped in the middle of?”
He relaxed in that casual way of his that seemed to fill Susan’s entire vision. “You’ll manage, Lady Bushnell. Just tell them all to go to hell like your mother-in-law would, and suit yourself.”
She nodded, the picture of peace again. “Perhaps I shall. What brings the two of you here? Please tell me it is good news for I need some.”
It was not good news, and the bailiff minced no words in telling her. He was still describing Lady Bushnell’s lapse when the door opened and Colonel March came in. The bailiff leaped to hisfeet from force of habit, and Susan thought for a second that he was going to salute the slender little man dressed impeccably in black. No uniform was necessary; this was a man used to leading armies.
He smiled at the bailiff, and to David’s momentary confusion, extended his hand. “Come, Sergeant, and let us shake. You are a civilian now, and I am soon to become one.”
The men shook hands. “Best of good wishes to you, sir,” David said.
The colonel sat beside his fiancee, took her hand in his own and kissed it. “My dear, it is done.” He patted his breast pocket “A special license. What do you say we abandon all these preparations that seem to be taking on a life of their own and elope?”
She turned shocked eyes on the colonel. “I could never, Edwin!” she exclaimed, then allowed herself a squeeze of his hand. I own that it is tempting.” She indicated the bailiff. “And now David Wiggins brings us glum tidings of Mother. Tell Edwin what you have told me, Sergeant,” she said.
Patiently, David repeated the catalog of Lady Bushnell’s troubles for the benefit of the colonel. “The doctor insisted that I tell you, else he would.” He hesitated, seeming less sure of himself. “He insisted that it was time now to gather Lady Bushnell to the home estate. He feels this is the beginning of her final illness.”
There was a long silence. “Then we must,” said young Lady Bushnell finally with a sigh. “I promised poor Charlie.”
David cleared his throat. “My lady, Miss Hampton and I have come here to plead the case that she be allowed to maintain her independence at Quilling.”
The widow shook her head. “You know it cannot be, Sergeant. She is practically a national treasure, and people would say that I had neglected my duty to all Waterloo heroes and the Peninsulaarmy, too! No, Sergeant. You were right to come and tell us. We need only make arrangements to move her to Bushnell, where she can be watched night and day.”
She paused and her expression grew petulant. “Why is it that troubles always come bounding after one another like jugglers? We had so hoped for two weeks in Paris ...” Her voice trailed off and she looked at her fiance. “Edwin, I am provoked, but I will do my duty.”
“My lady, Miss Hampton and I are here to request that we be allowed to continue her care at Quilling,” David said. “You, of all people, know how independent she is. It would drive her downhill even faster to give up her self-reliance. Miss Hampton and I will ...”
“Mr. Wiggins, please,” Lady Bushnell interrupted. “You know you have not time for the kind of work she will require.” Her eyes were kind as she regarded him. “I was raised in the Cotswolds myself, Sergeant, and I see in you that spring exhaustion that all bailiffs have. And landowners. I think of my own father.” She glanced at his hands. “I look at your hands, and I know that if the colonel demanded that you remove your coat and roll up your sleeves, we would see your chapped arms. You’re spending your days and nights with the sheep and I know it. Suppose Mother really needed you? Where would you be?”
David rose and walked to the window and back. “Madam, that is where Miss Hampton comes in. She has proven to be a highly reliable lady’s companion, better than we had any reason to hope for, considering her age…”
The colonel interrupted this time. “And there’s her problem, Sergeant, I am sure.”
“I am reliable,” Susan interrupted, speaking up for the first time.
The colonel smiled at her, but shook his head. “My dear Miss Hampton, I do not question your reliability, but your prettyface! How long before some young man snatches you away?” He paused a moment, as though wondering if to continue, but forged ahead anyway. “For all that your father is Sir Rodney Hampton, I feel certain you will not remain above another month or two in that place!”
“We’ve already heard that the vicar is interested,” Lady Bushnell interjected. “No, Miss Hampton, we need two people who would never leave the place and disrupt my mother’s continuity yet again. The bailiff is far too busy, and I fear you will not stick, no matter how earnest your good intentions.” She looked at the bailiff again. “Sergeant, we must make arrangements! Colonel March and I have already discussed this eventuality, and he is willing to offer you a place. Of course, you will not be a bailiff right away, but in time, you can work up to it.”
David said nothing, but only looked at Susan, as though he wanted her to solve his problem. I have no solution, she thought as she stared back, her mind in disarray. We have failed. You must start over, and what will become of your Waterloo wheat?
“Miss Hampton, you need not fear unemployment,” Lady Bushnell was saying. “I was talking to Mr. Steinman only this week about hiring some more servants, and he told me of a wonderful offer for your services with a widow and two daughters.” She paused, and her tone became more discreet. “Of course, I am certain that you might wish at any time to return to the protection of your father.” She hesitated. “Such as it is.”
“Or there is always the vicar,” teased the colonel, patting the marriage license in his pocket. “I heard a rumor…”
