The Lost Love of a Soldier (16 page)

Paul had told her the Lieutenant Colonel had submerged himself in the hedonistic life here. He socialised and was constantly playing cards, gambling, as he was now, until the early hours, and he’d encouraged his officers to participate. Paul had excused himself, giving Ellen as his reason.

If this was a window into the life of his senior officer, she preferred her own. She and Paul were happy. If only there was not a war looming like a dark, swirling storm cloud.

Chapter Thirteen

On the 10th of June, word reached Brussels that the Congress of Vienna had signed a final agreement over the state of Europe. It gave Napoleon no rights to France. But prior to this Napoleon had signed a new constitution for the Empire he’d claimed, and paraded through Paris to celebrate, cheered by thousands of supporters who’d come out on to the streets to see him.

In response, the parks and streets of Brussels were full of people eager to discuss the news with excitement and expectation, all gossiping in high-pitched hurried voices, wondering what would happen next.

Ellen hated their speculation.

She walked with Paul in a park at six, enjoying the evening light and the last of the sun’s warmth.

It had rained a lot recently so the clear night was a novelty. Paul said the fields and tracks they were scouting were muddy, and terrain would not be at its best if war began now. But it was likely it would. The French were renowned for moving quickly.

Ellen held his arm, but as they passed another huddle of obnoxious observers, she slid her fingers down to grip his hand.

She’d heard at least half a dozen voices in the group all agreeing that the battle would be soon.

Her heart had been pounding for hours as she tried not think of it.

Paul gripped her fingers firmly then glanced down at her as they walked on.

“You know, Ellen, if I could assure you of my safety I would say it…” She wished to stop and cover her ears. She’d known this conversation would come but she did not want to hear it. Yet she could not tear her gaze away from his vivid turquoise blue eyes – lost in the emotion burning out of them. It would be cowardice not to listen.

“There can be no guarantees in war, Ellen.”

She knew.

“I have written to my father, and asked him to help you, financially. If anything happens to me you must write to him. You understand?”

She nodded, unable to speak past the lump of tears gathering in her throat. She bit her lip to hold them back, biting down hard to distract them as her fingers gripped his more tightly.

“I’ve asked George to see you safe if things do not go well. He will organise a route to get you home, and if anything were to happen to George then any of the officers would help you, you may appeal to any of them.”

Again she nodded. A hole opened in her stomach, an emptiness. She could not and would not imagine him gone. She could not live without him. He was her whole life. She sometimes thought of her old home, but it was beyond reality, it was with dreamlike affection.

“And you must write to your father, and tell him, and encourage him to forgive you and show compassion…”

She did not think her father capable of compassion, but again she nodded.

“I’ve written a will, George has it, and it was properly witnessed. I do not have much. We have too many debts. But the few things I have you can sell to help pay your way home.”

He spoke as though it would happen, as though this was a plan, not a contingency. She gripped his hand in both of hers and held his gaze, fighting against the lump in her throat. “But you will not die. I shall not let you. I cannot… I am too much in love with you. I cannot lose you. You will survive.”

His hand slipped free of hers and his eyes suddenly glowed aquamarine, then he held her, gripping her tightly against his chest, ignoring anyone in the park who might see. For a moment that was all he did, then he whispered to her ear. “And I love you, more than mere words can ever express, but I cannot control fate, Ellen. Believe me, I shall fight as hard as I can, both to beat back the enemy so they can never reach you, and to stay alive. But we must be sensible and plan if…” He did not say the words.

She was betraying him by letting emotion get the best of her. She needed to be brave for him. Not send him into battle with tears that might distract his thoughts, but with love. She pulled away and her hands cupped his soft shaven cheeks. “You must not fear for me. You must focus on yourself. I will manage here.”

~

Ellen’s eyes were bright with unshed tears, they sparkled in the evening sun which flooded down on the busy park. This woman had so much beauty inside her, and so much love for him. It glimmered there.

After she’d spoken, she bit her lower lip, and he could see how hard by the white line beneath the press of her teeth.

She was being brave for him. He could ask no more.

His hands braced her pretty pale skinned face. She was such a delicate looking woman, and yet she was not delicate at all. Inside, she was strong, and he knew she would survive. “If the whole army fails, Ellen, you must leave as soon as you hear the news. Do you understand? I’ll leave you what money I have and you are to buy a passage on any coach or cart you can find. Do you hear me?”

“Yes.” Her soft lips trembled as they parted to answer him, and a single tear slipped from her eye.

“I will have to leave you in Brussels soon, in the next few days I think, and you may stay here. But if you hear that ill fate has befallen us, then you must go. Yes?”

She nodded, her hands falling to grip his biceps through his coat, as if she might collapse. He held her to his chest again, fiercely, as the pain he’d become used to gripped in his stomach. He hated that he could not protect her, that he could not offer her any certainty of his return. He hated having to leave her every day. But in a few days it might be to never return, and he was not afraid for himself, but for her. What would happen then?

He held her for a long time, ignoring the stares of others in the park. Perhaps they should have had this conversation in private, but when he’d heard the voices, he’d known what was passing through Ellen’s mind and he’d not been able to hold his words back any longer. They’d been passing through his head for hours too, for weeks, during all the time of their preparation.

When he released her, he pressed a brief kiss to her temple, then said briskly, “Let us think and talk of other things…” It was better having said what needed to be said that they did not dwell on it. What was the point? He would live or he would not.

~

Ellen had prayed last night, over and over, while Paul slept, whispering the words out loud in case God could not hear them if they were spoken in her mind. She pleaded and begged God to keep him alive and bring him back.

When she went out for a walk with Jennifer just after midday, an exodus had begun; carriages and carts were being loaded with furniture and baggage. People were fleeing the city before the fighting began – all the people who had laughed and danced as though they had no fear.

Not everyone was leaving though; there were still many hardy revellers in the parks.

But watching others leaving increased the fear Ellen struggled to hold back. It slept inside her, still gently breathing, and then occasionally something would stir it and it would wake, running into her blood, gripping about her heart, and capturing the air in her lungs. But she continued walking beside Jennifer as if nothing was wrong, refusing to acknowledge any chance Paul might not return. He would. She would not accept another outcome.

When they returned to their rooms, Ellen picked up her sewing with an aim to focus her mind away from fear.

She’d been sick this morning, fortunately it was after Paul had gone. She knew he worried about her too and she did not want him to worry more.

Chapter Fourteen

Ellen looked up as Paul entered their room. Jennifer stood. His hand lifted. He held two gilded slips of paper. “We are invited to the Richmond ball.”

They’d laughed about the lavish event and the battles to obtain invitations a week ago. Those who’d remained in the city had not stopped their parties; if anything they’d entertained themselves even more determinedly and the Duchess of Richmond’s was the ball everyone wished to attend.

The Duke of Richmond rented a property in the Rue des Cendres and the ball was to be there.

Ellen set down her sewing and stood. “How? I thought you did not wish to go.” At least the Duke and Duchess were holding it for the right reason. Paul had told Ellen, the Duke commanded the troops who were to remain in the city and defend Brussels, should Napoleon reach this far. His wife was entertaining solely to hearten the soldiers and keep their minds off war for a few hours. It was to be held in four days, on the 15th of June.

“I did not. I do not. But the Lieutenant Colonel wishes my presence… our presence. He insists all his officers attend.”

“So Captain Montgomery will be there too?”

“And the others. We are to make it appear as though nothing is afoot beyond us enjoying ourselves.”

“But that is silly.”

“Apparently, even the Duke of Wellington wishes it so.”

“Then we must go.”

“Yes.” He dropped the invitations on a side table. “But for now… You may go Jennifer.” The maid dropped a swift curtsy in both their directions, then left the room, closing the door behind her. “For now, Ellen…” Paul continued, walking across the room to her. He captured her chin in the grip of his finger and thumb. “I wish to feel the flesh of my wife against my flesh.”

“Do you not wish for dinner first?” Ellen looked into eyes full of longing.

He shook his head. But then he smiled. “I suppose you would rather I was civilized though and let you dine first.”

She gripped the sides of his scarlet coat. “I can wait, if I must.” She would let him do anything he wished for as many days as she had him still. The tears which had been threatening to fall all day, finally flooded her eyes.

She blinked them away and turned her back. “Let me ring for supper to be brought here, then you can at least eat soon.”

When Jennifer returned, Paul was already seated on the bed undressing, Ellen opened the door slightly and whispered. “Will you bring us something hot from a local inn for dinner, a pie perhaps? Leave it outside the door and knock. Oh and purchase wine too.”

When she shut the door she leaned back against it, watching him sitting in his pantaloons, bare chested, as he worked to pull off his boots.

He looked up at her. “All I have thought of all day is you, and being back in bed.”

She smiled. It was good to know he thought of her, and now she could help him escape. She watched the muscle move beneath the skin of his torso. The hard contours were more defined since he’d lost weight from working so hard, but it only made him more beautiful. Yet he looked so young today. He was young. Young and too full of life to face death.

“Take your dress off, Ellen.” She shook her head, smiling, but began unbuttoning it as he watched, leaning his hands back on to the bed.

She undressed slowly, then turned her back to him so he might unlace her light corset. The moment it fell away there was a knock on the door.

“Your dinner, ma’am, Captain.”

“Thank you, Jennifer. Set it down and go!” Ellen turned away from Paul. She wore only her chemise as she crossed the room quietly. She listened to Jennifer walking away before opening the door to collect their food. The smell of hot cooked mutton filled the room as she carried it in.

“Well now you have my stomach rumbling,” Paul said, rising.

They ate at a table in the room, facing one another. She’d shared many moments with him in the past six months, but none had felt as intimate as this as he sat shirtless before her eating hungrily and speaking of his day. At the end of the meal his hand swept through his hair and his gaze settled on her.

She stood. “Let me rub your shoulders.”

He smiled.

She walked behind him and gripped the tightly bunched muscle. “Relax.”

He leaned his head back against her bosom, and as she kneaded his flesh, the muscle beneath her fingers softened, his breathing slowed and he shut his eyes.

“I love you,” she said to the air above his head.

“And I you,” he answered, his eyes opening and looking up at her. She smiled. She’d never been in doubt of his affection. It had been constant, solid and reassuring. “May we go to bed now? I know it is early, but I ache for you, Ellen.”

“And how can I deny such an offer.”

His smile widened, and then he stood suddenly, turning to kiss her, gripping her hair and holding her mouth to his.

He made love slowly, just touching and kissing her for a long time, before moving over her. She opened her legs so he could come between them, and held his gaze, offering comfort with her eyes as well as her body. His gaze clung to hers as he moved, pushing in, and pulling out, over and over, in the pattern which drove her senses towards delirium. Her fingers lifted and stroked through his hair.

It was precious, what he did to her - precious and beautiful. She would hold on to this moment for the rest of her life.

His movements stayed slow and deliberate as her fingers clung to his shoulders and she looked into his blue eyes.

He was hiding from reality. But she wished to hide with him and keep it at bay for as long as they could.

She pressed back against his movement as he continued. An animalistic sound left his lungs, before her name …  “Ellen.”

She moved more forcefully with him. Wishing to help him escape and escape too.

“You are a wonderful wife.”

She laughed, her fingers clasping in his hair. “You are the perfect husband.”

His gaze became matt for a moment. “And I will try to continue to be, Ellen.
”

Damn it
, she’d let reality into the room. She did not wish to think of the battle, or Napoleon, or anything beyond their bed…

“You
will
continue to be,” she filled her voice with strength pulling his mouth to hers and slipped her tongue across his lips.