Fire & Frost: A Bluestocking Belles Collection by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781946177537
Publisher: Kingsburg Press
Published: 2020-02-03T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 2

Ethan shivered behind the mews to the rear of Chadbourn House, able neither to return to his hiding place nor to approach the earl. He held the stump of his damaged arm against his chest with the other, trying to keep the chill at bay. It had snowed the night before.

Many months had passed since anything as inconvenient as duty had bothered Ethan, and now that it had, he didn’t care for the feeling at all. Belief someone should tell the earl his sister put herself in jeopardy drew him there; old fears held him back. He might have hovered next to the mews until he froze to death and they hauled his unloved carcass to a pauper’s grave—or sold it to the body snatchers—if he hadn’t been spotted.

“You there, looking for a meal? Speak up; I almost missed you in the fog.”

Ethan gaped at the groom who came toward him wiping his hands. He didn’t know if the man meant to accuse him of stealing or offer him bread.

“Y’ve come to the right place; follow me.” The man didn’t wait; he started toward the house. “What regiment?”

Ethan, thoroughly confused, followed him. “Regiment?”

“Aye, where’d you serve, man?”

How can he tell I’m a soldier?

“Veteran, aren’t ye? Why else would you hang outside the earl’s kitchen?” the groom held a door open for him.

Ethan stepped up, and mumbled under his breath, “Light Division,” as he passed.

“Craufurd’s? God love y’!”

Warmth wrapped itself around Ethan as they entered the kitchen. “’Nother ’un Mrs. Potter,” the groom called. “Served in th’ Light Division. Not many o’ them left,” he added mournfully, on his way back out the door.

A plump woman gave Ethan a swift no-nonsense examination before he could speak, and scowled at his appearance then waved a dripping spoon toward a table in the corner. The savory stew she set on the table so overwhelmed him that he almost forgot who he was, much less why he came.

Ethan attacked the stew, shoveling it in as rapidly as he could swallow. “Easy now,” the woman chided. “No point in making yourself sick.” She set a plate of warm bread down next to him. “Craufurd’s was it? My man died at Cuidad Rodrigo.”

Ethan kept eating, more slowly now, his stomach clenching. He hadn’t come to share war stories. Cuidad Rodrigo. The words almost drove him back out the door. “I’ve come to see the earl,” he said between bites of bread.

“He isn’t here,” she said. “If it’s work you want—”

“It’s not,” he muttered. He knew the ways of the upper ten thousand. No earl was ‘in’ until he knew who asked and what they wanted. “I won’t keep him long. I’ll just say my piece and be gone.” He considered in bitter humor that he ought to have brought his calling card.

The one-eared footman he saw in the alley came in carrying buckets of water. “Another hungry veteran, Mrs. Potter?” he asked. “What’s his regiment?”

“As you see,” the cook responded. “Served with—”

Ethan had enough bad memories.

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