One Night with the Major by Bronwyn Scott

Author:Bronwyn Scott
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2018-11-20T19:34:58+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Cannon ripped like wildfire through the valley. Around him, horses and men fell with shrieks and cries. The Light Brigade had chased the Russians back to their lines, but now the survivors manned the guns once more, firing anything they could lay their hands on, not caring if their makeshift ammunition hit the Russian cavalry that still fought in the field. Yards from him, Fortis waved his sabre, gathering his riders to him. Cam did the same, spying Paget riding towards him, urging retreat. He wheeled his horse about once, looking for his men. Cannon boomed again, spraying the ground with grapeshot. Twenty feet from him, Fortis’s horse reared and fell, taking Fortis with him. The Russian cavalry surged towards his fallen friend. Get up! His mind shrieked. Get up and fight! But Fortis didn’t rise.

‘No, Fortis!’ Cam tried to turn his horse, tried to push through to his friend, but Paget was there, forcing him back, blocking the route to where Fortis had fallen.

‘Don’t be a fool, man, look to yourself!’

‘Fortis!’ he roared, but even his horse knew better than to stay on the field where there was only indiscriminate death...

‘Cam! Wake up!’ A hard shake called him back to the waking world. ‘You were having a nightmare.’

Not a nightmare—the nightmare. He was covered in sweat, his breathing uneven. He recognised the symptoms. It was the first time since their wedding that he’d dreamed of Balaclava.

Pavia was beside him, the room flooded with the light of early evening, concern etched on her face. ‘I’m fine,’ he mumbled grumpily. His mind had betrayed hm. He was a soldier. He was supposed to be strong. Others counted on him.

‘How often have you had this dream? Is this what keeps you up at night?’ Pavia placed another cool towel on his brow, this one scented with lavender. ‘Don’t deny it. I see you pacing at the window, Cam,’ she censured him when he said nothing.

‘I didn’t mean to wake you.’ Cam deflected a direct answer. He felt exposed, ashamed. He hadn’t wanted her to know. This was his private burden, his private guilt to bear.

‘I wasn’t bothered. I want to help. I can mix you something that will help you sleep, some herbs perhaps.’ Pavia reached for another cloth. He pushed her hand away.

‘I don’t want another cold cloth.’ He wanted to be strong.

He wanted things to be different that day at Balaclava.

‘Lie still, then. Just for a moment and let yourself settle,’ Pavia instructed. ‘You are a terrible patient, Cam. I hope you never get truly sick.’ She laughed softly to put him at ease. ‘Do you want to talk about it? My mother used to tell me that bad dreams can’t come true if you tell someone about them.’

How he wished that was the case. ‘It’s no use. This one already has.’ Why hadn’t he stayed closer to Fortis that day? Surely, he could have done something. At the very least, he could have taken him up on his own horse and carried him to safety.

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