Emma Lane (2 page)

T
HE
H
ONORABLE
E
THAN
W
ILLIAMS
leaned against the railing of the ship and gazed out across the water. His mind was blank. His thoughts seemed to be on nothing more than the ripple of the waves as the ship cut through the almost calm waters. There was just enough breeze to propel them forward toward the shores of home. He was weary, bone weary, and thought he could sleep for a week.

“You happy to be going home?” His friend Oliver leaned beside him. “I wonder what we will find changed. How long has it been for you?”

“Six years, I think. Almost, anyway.”

Ethan turned and looked at his friend. Oliver had lost his right arm at the elbow. Ethan remembered how hard his own batman had fought the doctors to save his own from amputation. The scar was deep and still ached from time to time. But his arm was intact, and that was what mattered. So many of his friends had not been so lucky.

“Weird how it is. I can’t wait to be home and not have to talk about the war. On the other hand, I seem addicted to discussing it.” Oliver shook his head. He was an easy-going fellow who rarely bothered with deep thinking. “I have a son, almost four years old. Did you know? Left my Gracie with child. Probably won’t want to be around his papa. Stranger, don’t you know.”

Ethan did know. He had mixed feelings about his decision not to marry Sarah before he left.

How wonderful it would be to come home to a loving wife!
But he could just as easily have left her a very young widow. She was almost twenty years old now. He’d heard nothing from his parents about her in a year or so. Why hadn’t he written her to say he was coming home?

He supposed it was fear. Her feelings had to have changed. She was certainly all grown up at this point. He knew he was. Some days he felt ancient beyond his years.

“You want to come home with me until you find your bearings, Ethan? I have a house in town with so many rooms I cannot count them all. Gracie will love having you.” He sounded wistful. Ethan wondered if he too was fearful of his homecoming.

“That would be great. Thanks, old friend. I need to see a tailor immediately. This ragged uniform is the extent of my clothing. Still has a slice down one sleeve from that saber cut. My batman pulled it together, but the stitching has come loose already. Can’t upset the family with evidence of violence. Promise I won’t disturb you and family.”

Ethan looked around him and gave an amused snort. He and Oliver and most of the soldiers traveling home were a worn looking bunch. They wore faded and dirty uniforms, some in complete rags, and disgraceful boots. War was not a pretty business. Thank God it was finally over.

A week later, Ethan was ready to meet the world. His dress was completely refurbished in the current style. His blue superfine coat was cut a bit loose, but he refused to require a valet to assist him into his own clothes. He had had enough of that when he was recovering from the fever. His boots had been restored to a more respectable condition, and he had ordered new ones. The simple neck cloth was tied neatly but without pretension.
Should have had my hair cut shorter,
he thought, but decided to hold it back with a black ribbon in spite of one or two curls that insisted on falling over his forehead. Ethan had only twenty five and a bit more years on him, but he knew his demeanor was that of an older man.
War makes a man grow old fast
.

“You are out on the town?” Gracie, a pretty little pigeon of a woman, asked. She was sitting on the sofa with Oliver. Their son was tucked between them, and his father was telling him a story. The contentment on his friend’s face told its own tale. Ethan wished him well. It was time he found his own establishment and left the young family to their privacy.

“Out looking around for a place to lease,” he answered. He tipped his hat and left by the front door before they could protest. He was standing on the steps, enjoying the fine morning when a high perch phaeton sailed by going much too fast. A young lady with an impossibly angled hat tipped over her right eye held the reins, while a young male sat beside her with an uneasy expression on his face. Ethan had no more than a glimpse, but he knew the identity of the young lady.

Once his heart would have given a lurch, but the years in battle had dulled his senses. Did he only respond to danger anymore? He was eager to meet Sarah, but he would do so on better terms than he possessed now. First a decent place to call his own. He needed to meet with his man of business as well. Then he would visit his new club; Oliver had sponsored him just yesterday. He needed to call on a widow and express his sympathies for her loss. He had promised the dying man as the poor fellow breathed his last breath.

Ethan wondered why he had never pictured Sarah Louise in town. Always she was the fourteen-year-old girl sobbing in an apple tree and exclaiming, “I love you. I want you to marry me.” There was no logic to it. He had known she would make her come out and enjoy a Season in town. Her aunt, no doubt, sponsored her presentation at court. And there his imagination failed him. He could not picture her in a white ball gown making her bow to royalty.

Sarah laughed at the young man cowering beside her as she took a corner. It seemed the phaeton would tip on its wheels.

“It is actually difficult to tip this carriage over, I assure you,” she said. Her passenger turned and glared, causing her to succumb to a fit of giggles.

She pulled over, and he clambered out, walking quickly away. Sarah called softly to her restive cattle then looked around her. The park was full of strolling couples, but she saw no one of interest, so turned her phaeton around meaning to leave the park.

She turned her head toward the sound of someone calling her name, but couldn’t quite identify the voice. Holding the reins firmly, she paused, holding her high perch in place. A tall, thin gentleman came hurrying toward her and clambered up to sit beside her. She smiled at him as he puffed and tried to catch his breath.

“Sir Lawrence. What is so important to take your breath away? Are Marcia and the baby well?” She laughed as he vigorously nodded his head up and down. Her good friend’s baby was a few months old, but it seemed that was not the problem.

“They are very fine. My son is sitting up already,” Sir Lawrence boasted proudly.

“Then?” Sarah prompted quickly. She knew if not stopped her friend would wax eloquently for some time. He was a proud father.

“The party. She would like you to come for the party. Parents coming too, don’t you know. Big to-do. First grandchild and all. Will you come?” He fixed his gaze on her as he finally ran down. Still she was left grasping for the purpose of the party.

“My friend. Please tell me what party? Is Marcia already giving parties?” She soothed her horses as they became more and more restive and finally decided to take them around the park for a bit. Perhaps that would shake the fidgets from them.

“Your aunt let you go out in this thing by yourself?” He looked at it with interest. “Thing is dangerous, don’t you know. Saw a man wrap the whole thing around one of the gates once. Couldn’t drive like you, but still…”

Sarah laughed. “My escort abandoned me a while back. I think he doesn’t trust me to drive my new phaeton. It is a beauty, is it not?”

“Maid?” Sir Lawrence eyed her dubiously.

“I could not tempt one of those silly girls to even try it out with me.” She slowed for the couple strolling across the path. “Now. Please tell me what you are celebrating with a party? Of course I will be there, but could you give me a bit more information?”

“Didn’t I say? The baby! Must christen the baby. Godmother!” He grinned fatuously and proudly.

Sarah’s laugh rang out across the park. She loved her friends Larry and Marcia and had been delighted when they married. The new baby was a bonus.

“Now we only need to settle on the date. Will it be soon? Next week? A month from now? When, Sir Lawrence?”

She dropped her friend off at the park’s gate and turned her carriage toward home. Aunt Susan might worry. She was calm about most of Sarah’s activities, but a high perch phaeton could possibly be more than she could handle. She picked up her groom who was waiting for her around the corner of the park. She wove her way through city traffic and, arriving home, left the carriage at her front door.

“Take care of it for me, will you, Thomas?”

Sarah stood, watching him drive away, and sighed. She had thought it would be great fun to own such a ride as that. But after all, the excitement fell away after the purchase.

Nothing she tried seemed to dispel the boredom she felt when in town. Life seemed sadly flat.

Her aunt was draped across her lounge chair, a box of candy beside her and a book dangling from one hand.

“Aunt Susan, do you dress for the Simmons ball tonight?”

Susan looked up and smiled at her favorite niece. “This is an exciting book, dear. It is apparently written by a lady. Just about one thing or another, but so fascinating.”

“I will change and see you later then.” Sarah leaned over to give her aunt a fond hug.

“Oh, Sarah,” her aunt called just as she was about to enter the stairs. “You had a visitor this morning. You just missed him.”

Ethan had fully meant to wait to call on Sarah Louise. In the end, he found himself on the doorsteps at her aunt’s town house where he guessed she would be staying. Not certain that Sarah would have the door opened to him if she found out he was calling, he decided not to leave his name. He almost would not blame her. Not writing for all those years had been a rotten thing to do, but he had agreed with her mother that she needed the chance to get acquainted with others.
Others her own age,
he felt was the message. Sarah had been so very young when he left.

Now that she was so close, the feelings he had for her were rampaging inside him. Why had he thought it a good idea to wait? He wondered if she would be at the Simmons’ ball tonight. In case she attended, he would give it a look in. His clothes were ready to be picked up from the tailor’s, so he left to finish his errands.