Page 2 of A Lady's Heart Deceived
“You let your anger and frustrations get the better of you.”
Piers stuffed his hat back on and continued marching across St. James’s Park. The green expanse was at least something of a blessing; it allowed him to stretch his legs. Sitting all day at a desk wasn’t what he’d had in mind when he signed up for the army.
You used to be an even-natured chap, Piers Denford. Since when did you become such a foul-tempered and uncaring cad?
He didn’t have to ponder the answer to that prickly question. The exact moment was forever burned into his psyche.
An officer didn’t ever forget when the wordincompetentwas written next to his name in official dispatches from the battlefront.
Chapter Two
Maggie downed the last of her lukewarm tea and set the cup on the saucer with a loud clatter. She had been in a foul mood since opening her eyes. The letter from Captain Denford had arrived the previous day and pushed her blood to boiling point. The nerve of that man.
I’ll give him cease and desist. Cheeky devil.
With an indignant huff, she rose from her seat at the breakfast table, pushed back her chair—then stopped.
Across from her, Claire sat with a quizzical expression on her face. “Aren’t you waiting for Mama and Papa to come down for breakfast? It is not polite to leave before they arrive.”
Maggie’s gaze darted to the other end of the table. Her parents were usually in the breakfast parlor at this time of the morning, except for the days when they …
She shuddered at the thought. Her parents had been married for many years. It was unseemly that they still indulged in marital activities. Or that they did it in the light of day. But if Hugh and Mary were late, it was more than likely because they were still abed.
“I have somewhere to be this morning. I cannot wait for them. Papa must be finishing up his Sunday sermon and having Mama check it for him,” she replied.
Claire picked up a piece of toast and, with a practiced air of disinterest, placed it on her plate. She reached for the butter. The silent agreement that no one was going to mention what they both suspected their parents were up to hung lightly between them.
Unlike many of their peers, Mary and Hugh Radley’s marriage had been a love match. It was not unheard of in the Radley household for Lord and Lady Radley to disappear into their bedroom for entire afternoons, only to finally surface in time for a late supper.
Maggie secretly envied her parents—their decades’ long romance, was still fresh and very much alive.
I wonder if Robert and I would have known such a strong connection if we had been married and then blessed to grow old together.
She shook the painful thought away. Robert was dead. Buried, along with many thousands of other soldiers, in an overgrown field in Belgium. All her hopes for a happy life had slowly turned, like him, to dust.
“Are you headed into town? I could accompany you if you like?” offered Claire.
Her sister was always one for an impromptu visit to the shops of central London. Claire Radley was a dedicated follower of fashion, and also good fun. On any other day, she would be more than welcome to join Maggie in the Radley family carriage. But not today.
Maggie slowly shook her head. The last thing she needed this morning was for her sibling to bear witness while she gave an officer of the British Army a severe tongue lashing. Her intention was to give the insolent Captain Denford a piece of her mind.
A very stern one.
By the time she was finished with him, the officer would not only regret his decision to send her that letter, but he would vow to never do it again to anyone. No other grieving widow should be subjected to such ridicule.
She glanced down at the simple, unadorned betrothal ring on her finger. It might not be a wedding ring, but in her heart, she and Robert had been as good as married. No one had the right to cheapen his memory. Or his efforts on the battlefield. There was no doubt in her mind that whatever had befallen Robert, his would have been a worthy death. That of a hero.
“Thank you, sister dearest, but I don’t plan to be in the city that long. I have one appointment at the Horse Guards, after which I shall return straight home,” said Maggie.
Claire gave an all too familiar sigh, then went back to eating her breakfast. The rest of the Radley family had wisely adopted the practice of not saying anything when it came to the subject of Robert. Occasionally, they would offer their condolences, but these days, they usually left things well alone.
In the two years and almost five months since that fateful day at Waterloo had robbed Maggie of her future happiness, the rest of the world had continued on. She, however, was content to bide her time, treasuring Robert’s precious memory.
Her kind family had been supportive. Never more so than when they didn’t press her to move forward with her life. If she declined to attend a social function, they took her refusal with good grace. Even her reluctance to give up the pale lilac gowns of semi-mourning was not challenged.
She would come out of her time of grief when she was ready.
Maggie was headed for the front door when Hugh and Mary Radley finally made it down the main stairs. Her father, clad in his bishop robes, hailed her. “Don’t we even get a good morning before you leave?”
