The Earl's Dilemma by Emily Larkin

Author:Emily Larkin [Larkin, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-03-11T22:00:00+00:00

James watched the colour rise in her face. It flushed her cheeks, tinting them, telling him she was aware of the touch of his mouth on her skin. At any other time he would have pressed his advantage, but not now, while grief for Edward was tight in his chest. He released Kate’s hands and turned to her mare. He could feel tears drying on his skin, but the shame was gone. Somehow, with a few words and a smile, Kate had made it all right.

‘I’ll help you mount,’ he said.

‘Thank you.’ Her voice was calm, as if she’d not blushed. ‘But first, where are my gloves?’

They were trodden into the mud beside the sapling. Her whip, though, was nowhere to be seen. Nor was his. Or his hat. Kate began walking back along the track, the voluminous skirt of her habit looped over her arm. James made a move to accompany her, but she stopped him with an upraised hand. ‘Don’t you dare!’

He didn’t argue. He had no wish to be physically ill in front of Kate. He waited. The river still ran high. Debris swirled in the brown water. He wondered what the smell belonged to. A dead sheep, perhaps. Whatever it was, its intestines had recently been torn open. It was an unforgettable smell. The accompanying image was in his head: Rupert, gored by a bayonet, trampled by horses, dead. Nausea rose again in his throat and he clenched his teeth. A fragment of a sentence turned in his mind: one vast carnage bruised. It took him a few seconds to place it. Homer. Miss Wilmot had quoted it. The description was apt. Waterloo had been a shocking carnage, vast and ugly, a mire of mud and blood, bodies piled upon bodies, a terrible waste of lives.

James stared at the river, not seeing it. He should never have persuaded his father to purchase him a commission. It had seemed the right thing to do. He’d been so bored, kicking his heels around town, a younger son with nothing to do. He’d finished Cambridge and had no estates in which to interest himself, unlike Edward and Harry. Gambling had held little attraction, and neither had cockfights and mills and other such diversions. He’d wanted a career, an outlet for his restless energy. Not the clergy or the Diplomatic Service, something more exciting. Fool that he was, he’d wanted action.

If he’d known that Waterloo was to come, he would have chosen otherwise. God, if he’d known, he’d have sold out! Then he wouldn’t have had to live through that slaughter, wouldn’t have seen Rupert like that, wouldn’t have been scrambling through a battlefield while Edward lay dying in a carriage wreck. Edward. James stared at the swirling brown water and wished, with all his heart, that he could have said goodbye to his brother, that he could have held his hand, done something, anything.

He’d said goodbye to his father, not that the old Earl had been aware of anything. He’d never regained consciousness after the accident.

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