Page 16 of The Forbidden Love of an Officer
As the image of the dead highwayman hovered, she wondered how many pictures of dead men on battlefields played through his head.
She could perhaps understand a little more of the soldier now she knew what that meant.
She smiled.
‘How are you?’ he asked. ‘You slept well. You have been asleep nearly all night.’
‘Were you awake then?’
‘Yes. I did not like to sleep while it was dark, in case, well…’ He did not end the sentence but she understood. He had been nervous of more highwaymen. But he could not be worried for himself as he was able to defend himself – he had worried over her.
He looked down, lifted his fob watch from his inside pocket and flicked open the catch. ‘It is nearly noon.’
She was not surprised; the hunger in her stomach and the sunlight implied it. But he looked surprised that he had slept.
She wondered how much last night had disturbed him. He’d seemed cold and unemotional then, but now…
‘We’d better stop soon.’ He leaned over the carriage to open the hatch in order to speak to the man on the box. ‘Where are we?’
‘Two miles from Penrith by the last marker, Captain.’
‘Stop at the next coaching inn, will you?’
‘Aye, Captain.’
Paul sat back again and then stretched, lifting his arms and arching his back. It showed off the lean, muscular definition of his torso and his thighs, which his uniform hugged so perfectly.
A warm sensation fluttered low in her stomach. They were nearly at Gretna. Soon she would know what it would be like to share a bed with him. She smiled, excitement and anxiety skittering through her nerves; warring love and fear. It tangled up like a muddled ball of embroidery threads within her.
‘I cannot wait to stretch my legs a little,’ he murmured as he dropped back against the swabs. Then he looked at her. ‘I admit I am sick of this carriage.’
Her smile parted her lips. ‘I am also.’
‘Shall we take a break once we are wed, before we travel to Portsmouth? We may find lodgings for a night. It will be our wedding night.’
His blue eyes shone.
She nodded, the flutter stirring low in her stomach again – desire and disquiet. ‘It will be Christmas Eve too,’ she said. ‘There may be poor service at the inns. We should feel guilty dragging our drivers away from their families during advent?’ He looked at her oddly. ‘Paul…’
‘My apologies. I had completely forgotten it was nearly Christmas Day. My mind has been focused on gathering my men and then coming to fetch you ever since we received the order to sail. I have also not celebrated this time of year for many years. My family will not expect me to be there, but yours… You will miss your sisters…’
She nodded, her vision clouding with tears. The twelve days following Christmas were for feasting and celebration, and on the twelfth night, at Pembroke Place, they held a servants’ ball, when someone would be crowned the Lord of Misrule and order all the entertainments. Ellen and her sisters were allowed to watch for a little while.
He pulled her into a firm embrace. ‘I should not have mentioned them. I am sorry.’
‘You need not apologise. It is nice to know you think of what will affect me. I do miss them. I will miss Penny most. I wish I had been able to explain to her. But I do not regret leaving with you. I will be happy with you even though I will miss them.’
His palm rested on her hair. ‘You can write to your sister when we are married.’
‘Yes. What of your family?’
He laughed, a low deep pitch. ‘My family are long forgotten.’
‘But you came with them in the summer…’
‘Because I had returned to England and sought my old self, the privileged sixth son of the Earl of Craster, but I am not that now. I am first a soldier. Christmas with my family would be like living in the past. My family is the army, and my men.’
‘You are no longer close to them?’
