Page 77 of The Forbidden Love of an Officer
‘No. It is too soon to take John with us. Would you stay with him, while I walk? I will not go out for long.’
‘Of course, ma’am.’
There always seemed to be a tone of pity rather than respect in Megan’s voice these days – as though she felt sorry for Ellen.
Smiling her gratitude, Ellen walked past Megan and hurried down the stairs.
None of the footmen were in the downstairs hall, and there were four in the house.
It was the first time she had come downstairs since John had been born and it felt strange to find the place empty. She let herself out of the house and strode quickly along the pavement to reach the inn she knew would take letters and ensure they reached England via the paid coaches.
Then she returned to the security of her room and her son, thanked Megan, and bid her to leave. She pulled up a chair and watched John sleep, love overflowing inside her. It was wonderful to feel love again.
When the clock chimed five times, she was sitting on her bed, with John in her arms, singing to him after his feed.
A firm knock struck the bedchamber door. The sound jolted through her body.
It was the lieutenant colonel. The door knob twisted, but she had learned her lesson, she always turned the key in the lock now.
‘You have spent enough time recovering from childbirth,’ he called through the wood. ‘I expect you to dine with me tonight, and I expect you to wear a pretty dress and not cover your beauty behind those dull black rags. I have allowed you to mourn for long enough.’
Her heart plummeted.
John whimpered in her arms, drawing her thoughts back to him. She held him closer, as love swelled and rocked inside her, like the surges of the sea when she and Paul had sailed to Ostend. She pressed a gentle kiss on his temple. ‘I love you…’
She almost expected the tiny living soul in her arms to say it back.
30
Ellen’s legs trembled as she walked downstairs. Megan had helped her dress and now was sitting in Ellen’s bedchamber minding John.
She wore a pale pink dress, made of very fine muslin. The only part of this she did not mind was giving up her blacks. Now she had John, it was time to leave her mourning for Paul behind.
As she entered the dining room, she saw a box on the table, placed in front of the seat he liked her to use.
For a moment she could not make her legs walk on. Gifts meant payments. She did not want his gifts.
‘I bought a new gift for you,’ the lieutenant colonel said as she sat, as the footman withdrew the chair for her.
She sat down, staring at the box – it was a silent threat.
‘Open it.’
She did not wish to, because she knew it meant he wanted a gift in return.
‘Go ahead, Ellen.’ His words became snappy, and his tone the one he would use on a parade ground.
He was in a beseeching mood – a dangerous mood.
She complied and opened it, only because when she refused he resorted to violence.
Inside the box rested a string of pearls.
He stood.
She did not.
She remained seated, facing the table; her legs would not have held her up. Her hands shook. She slipped them beneath the table.
