Page 24 of The Soldier
They got out the cribbage board and whiled away another hour until they’d both won two games. As they ambled up the stairs, thunder rumbled in the distance and Douglas turned to survey his host.
“Will you be able to sleep?”
“Are you offering to read me a bedtime story, Amery?”
Douglas eyed him dispassionately. “I hired a fellow for my stables who served under you on the Peninsula. I have to warn him any time I plan to discharge a firearm, and thunderstorms unnerved him completely for the first six months of his employ. He hid in the wine cellars to get away from them. Flat reduced him to tears.”
“They don’t reduce me to tears. Let me light your candles.” He preceded Douglas into his bedroom and lit a candle on each side of the bed, only to find Douglas regarding him solemnly as he moved around the room.
“I would, you know.”
The earl paused by the door. “You would what?”
“I’d read you a bedtime story, beat you at cribbage, get you drunk. I’d do anything I could to make it better.”
“There’s nothing to do,” the earl said, shaking his head. “But thank you for the sentiment.”
“You’re wrong.”
“About?”
“There are things to do, and you are doing them. Now get to bed.” Douglas’s words were gentle. “You have more dragons to slay tomorrow, and you really must not compound your woes with avoidable exhaustion.”
“Good night, Douglas.” The earl blew him a kiss and left without a sound, but stood for a long moment in the corridor. Thunder did not reduce him to tears, but neither did it ease his slumbers. The storm was moving closer, lumbering across the hills at its own ponderous pace, but not yet upon them.
A belt of Dutch courage might see him more quickly asleep. He headed back downstairs to the library by the light of his single candle and found the brandy decanter on the sideboard. He had knocked back a tot of what really should have been sipped and was contemplating pouring another, when the library door opened slowly, and Miss Emmaline Farnum peered around the frame.
“I could not tell if there was a light in here or not,” she said. “Will I disturb you if I get a book?”
“You will not.” Of course he was lying. She eased around the door, closing it behind her, and glided in, carrying a single candle. The breeze from the windows winked it out, but not before the earl saw she was barefoot and clad only in a nightgown and wrapper.
“You are having trouble sleeping?” he asked, drawing the windows closed and offering her his candle to relight her own.
“I am. I am not used to having to be up or asleep or anything at a particular hour, as long as my baking is done.”
“You and Winnie seem to run on your own clocks,” the earl remarked, leaning a hip on his desk and watching her peering at book titles.
“I suppose we do have that in common, though I tried to always know where Winnie was, at least approximately. This summer…” She frowned at a book.
The earl shoved away from his desk. “This summer, Winnie has gotten more and more daring and more and more mobile. Douglas told me she’s made a pest of herself in the livery and frequents the back porch of a certain old gentleman who gives her peppermints and has a dog.”
“Grandpapa Hirschmann? He’s not always sober, but probably harmless, as is his dog.”
“I am imbibing as we speak.” The earl gestured with his empty snifter. “Care to join me?”
“A lady does not drink strong spirits,” she recited, taking out a book and opening it to the first page.
“A lady has the option of sleeping in as late as she pleases,” the earl rejoined, watching her. “Miss Emmaline Farnum does not.” He poured her a half finger into his glass and brought it to her, holding it up to her mouth. “Sip slowly.”
“Your hands are cold.” She frowned, wrapping her hand over his and bringing the glass to her lips. A clap of thunder close by had her pausing, listening, then sipping carefully.
“It warms the insides,” the earl said, watching her with a slight smile.
“Oh, my lands.” Emmie’s gaze lifted to his. “It most assuredly does. The scent is lovely, the feel of the glass in the hand pleasurable, and the heat wonderful, but the actual flavor is rather… different.”
“Its appeal grows, but I’d still caution you to sip slowly. Shall we sit?”
She looked torn, but then the thunder sounded again, causing the earl to hunch his shoulders in a brief involuntary bracing. After the artillery bombardments came the cavalry charges into the enemy’s waiting lines of infantry…
