Page 34 of The Soldier
Emmie lifted a sardonic eyebrow. “Well, brace yourself. You are now accepting callers, I gather, and you will have no peace short of winter setting in.”
“Christ.” The earl sat forward, rested his forearms on his thighs, and bowed his head. “I am a soldier, Emmie, or perhaps a horseman, a landowner. Her Grace made sure I knew how to dance, which fork to use, and how to dress, but… Christ.”
But, Emmie surmised with sudden insight, he felt like an imposter in the drawing room, among the dames and squires. Well, God knew she’d felt like an imposter often enough, so she told him what she frequently told herself.
“You have a certain lot in life, my lord. Some of it you chose, some you did not, and much of it you did not realize you were choosing. Still, it is your lot in life, and you must make the best of it. A man in your position receives callers and returns the calls. He entertains and is agreeable to his neighbors. He marries and secures the succession. He tends his land and comports himself like a gentleman under all circumstances.”
While I will bake bread, Emmie silently concluded, precisely one property and an entire universe distant from you.
“I comprehend duty.” The earl sat up and frowned at her. “But only in a rational context. A soldier obeys orders because an army falters without discipline and lays itself open to slaughter. A gentleman protects the weak, as they cannot protect themselves. He tends the land because we must eat, and so forth. But what in God’s name is the purpose of sipping tea and discussing the weather with strangers when there is work to be done?”
He was genuinely bewildered, Emmie saw, puzzled. But then it occurred to her he’d probably gone from university to the battlefield and stayed there until there were no more battles to fight.
“Aren’t you ever lonely?”
“Of course I’m lonely. Every soldier makes the acquaintance of loneliness.” He was back to scowling at his riding boots.
“And what do you do when you’re lonely?”
“There isn’t anything to do. I work, go for a ride, write a letter. It passes.”
“No,” Emmie said, “it does not. These people who waste your time over tea and small talk, maybe they are what you should be doing.”
“Hardly.” He rose. “They are not potential friends, Emmie. I’m not sure what they’re about, but I comprehend friendship. My brothers are my friends, and I would die for them cheerfully. Lady Tosten is not a friend and never will be.”
“She will not.” Emmie rose, as well. “And I likely misspoke. She will not be your friend, but perhaps she will be your mother-in-law?”
“Not you, too.” The earl braced his hands on his lower back and dropped his head back to look straight up. “Douglas told me I am now to be auctioned off to the most comely heifer in the valley, but the prospect hardly appeals.”
“It doesn’t speak to that certain form of loneliness single men are prone to?” Emmie asked, smiling.
“Actually, no, Emmie.” He speared her with a particularly fierce look. “The prospect of taking some grasping female to my bed so she can dutifully submit to my pawing has no appeal whatsoever. Ah, I’ve made you blush. I account the conversation a success.”
“You are being naughty.” Despite her serene tone, his comment disturbed her. It was too blunt, too personal, and too much what she wanted to hear.
“I am being honest.” He slipped his fingers through hers and tugged her toward the house. “A soldier does obey orders, and I did that for very long and unpleasant years. It is going to take me some time to accustom myself to following a different set of orders, when I cannot comprehend the purpose behind them.”
“You are like Winnie,” Emmie said, shifting so they walked arm in arm. “Very wary, and self-reliant, and prone to seeing enemies where they may not lurk.”
“Perhaps I am, but I am not a child, and I have not suffered as many losses as she has. How do you propose I punish her?”
“Winnie adores you, but her adoration must be tempered with respect. I’m sure you’ll puzzle it out, just as you puzzle out your horses.”
“You are no help.” He dropped her arm and bowed, the corners of his mouth tipping up as he straightened. “I am going to join my opponent in the stable, but I look forward to seeing you at luncheon, by which time I might have a treaty negotiated that allows for both social calls and possessive children.”
“Good luck, my lord. Remember that respect is essential.”
***
“You tossed me into the horse trough!” Winnie bellowed.
“You got me wet.” The earl towered over her. “So I got you wet.” But then he grinned. “And it’s a hot day, and you look happy in there.”
She grinned back and splashed him. “I’m nice and cool,” she cooed, “and you are all hot and miserable, and besides, you won’t fit in the horse trough, so there!” She splashed him again, provoking him to whip off his shirt, splash her back, then advance on her, growling and threatening while she shrieked her delight.
Douglas emerged from the barn, his frown clearing at the display of negotiations before him.
“So we are back in charity with one another?” he asked as Winnie stood up and pulled her pinny over her head.
