The two lovers spent long, lazy days riding the countryside. Several times Mariah packed picnic lunches. Today they had picked a grassy knoll overlooking the harbor and after lunch, they lay back watching the ships and boats ply the water. Jared’s head rested on Mariah’s lap as they spun daydreams of what they would do after the war. Mariah suggested they settle in America, but Jared was equally insistent that they remain in England, near his father.
Mariah sat up, gazing lovingly at Jared’s tanned, relaxed face. Exposure to the sun had lightened the reddish-blond curls, streaking them with bright gold. His mustache, curving wickedly around his mouth and extending almost to his chin, had remained its original rusty blond. Again he resembled a Viking pirate, the man who had captured her attention in Montana. That time seemed like an eon ago although only three years had actually passed. “Darling, I think we should discuss it again, when we return to England.” Her mouth formed a pretty pout as she added, “I don’t really want to argue now.” Jared recognized the delaying action for what it was and winked: he had caught her trying to manipulate him, and he didn’t mind. His arm wound around her neck and he pulled her down into his arms as she laughed up at him.
“How dare you laugh at a captain of the Seventeenth Lancers,” he said with mock sternness. “Apparently you don’t know the punishment allotted for such an offense.” He sat up, pulling her across his lap and delivering one, sharp blow to her derriere before Mariah had a chance to react. She squealed and entering the game with him, struggled to get away. Giggling and running as fast as she could, she paused once to look behind her and found him so close, she squeaked with fright. A moment later he reached out, catching her off balance, and they both tumbled to the ground. Jared was careful to take most of the weight of the fall. Mariah collapsed on top of him and Jared’s deep laughter boomed out.
“Now, as I was saying, there’s only one fit punishment for mocking one of her Majesty’s finest—complete and total ravishment! You might as well get used to the idea, madam, for there’s no escape for you!”
Mariah giggled once more. “Do be serious, Jared! I promise to submit to your demands but not here!” Her hair had shaken loose from its neat chignon and lay about her shoulders, reminding Jared of the first time he had taken her, beneath the oaks by the stream.
His mouth descended to cover hers with a sudden passion and had he desired to take her there, on the high hill overlooking the sea, where anyone could have come upon them, Mariah couldn’t have resisted. The sheer longing in his actions swept her along like a mighty, rushing river. Surprised when he broke away and brushed her cheek with a soft, tender kiss, Mariah reached up to stroke the beloved features so close to her face. When she would have drawn him back to her, Jared stood up and pulling on both of her hands, brought her to her feet.
Almost fraternally, Jared turned her about, brushing at the dirt and grass stains on her skirt, but when she faced him again there was nothing brotherly about the burning urgency deepening the blue of his eyes. Nuzzling his head against her silky, unbound hair, he spoke in a hoarse, desire-infused whisper. “Let’s go home, Mariah.” She smiled up at him, having the same thought and then hurried to gather up the picnic things together.
Chapter 45
The night of the colonel’s party Mariah dressed with special care. Her hair was bound with tiny yellow wild-flowers that Anna had found growing in a field beyond their yard. Her plush velvet gown was a pale, delicate yellow with a wide, satin ribbon of a deeper hue running in parallel lines around its skirt. She wore fourteen lace petticoats and already their warmth made her feel slightly flushed. She wore no jewels, only a simple, lace-edged satin ribbon as a choker around her slender neck.
When Beth entered the room she was attired in a sky-blue satin dress that belled as full as Mariah’s. She and Rob were also attending the social. Tony was coming too but Mariah doubted he would do much more than sit in a chair and let the ladies fuss over him.
Beth’s sweet, demure expression was shadowed and troubled as she sat on the edge of the bed. “You look lovely, dear,” she said in a preoccupied tone and when Mariah asked her what was wrong, she hesitated and then began. “I don’t think Jared wanted to worry you, but there’s been talk of heavy action coming up. The Russians have been moving a great number of troops around Balaclava.”
Mariah had been only half-listening, fussing in front of the mirror with a flower that dangled loosely, but now her hand froze as she stared past her reflection at Beth. Her fingers trembled, the flower forgotten. “I can’t believe it, Beth,” she said, “Jared would have told me, I know he would.” Beth came up behind her and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders, urging her to be seated on the bed.
“Oh, Mariah, maybe I did the wrong thing in telling you, but I thought you should be prepared. If you can face Jared with courage when the time comes, it will help, I know it will.” She continued to pat comfortingly at Mariah’s shoulder.
“I suppose everyone must think I’m some kind of baby —carrying on about Jared’s fighting.” Mariah’s eyes now seemed dull and listless. “It’s just that…I love him so much, Beth. If something happened…I might as well die, too.”
Mariah seemed calmer now, but Beth sighed heavily. It seemed the women were always left behind to wonder and worry. Sometimes she thought it was worse than actually going into battle.
“Don’t worry, Beth, I won’t make a scene. I’m not pregnant this time so I won’t be so emotional.”
Beth stood up and drew Mariah along with her. “Well, if you attempt to carry it off, you’d better put a smile on that pretty face or Jared will know instantly! The men are waiting for us in the drawing room. Do you want me to wait for you or tell them you’ll be down in a few minutes?”
Mariah thought it would be better to have a few minutes alone. Beth gave her a bright smile of encouragement and hugged her close before she left the room.
Mariah sat before the mirror, carefully repairing the effects of the unexpected shock.
True to her word, when Mariah joined the others, no one could tell she had been upset. At the reception, she was alive with a gaiety she did not feel. Jared had never seen her sparkle so and though he wondered at the reason, he was content with the fact that he was the husband of this fascinating creature who turned men’s heads with admiration as she waltzed by in his arms.
“You’re more beautiful than I’ve ever seen you, love, but then I’m sure you’re more than aware of the effect you’re having on everyone,” Jared teased, looking down at her radiant face.
“There’s a good reason, darling, but then you must know why. If I’m happy and it shows in my face, it’s only because I’m in your arms.” The briefest flicker of fear narrowed her eyes, so brief Jared was sure he had imagined it. “Jared, you’ll never leave me, will you?”
As the music ended and Jared returned her to her seat near the garden doors, he reassured her. “Unless you somehow change into an ugly witch overnight, Mariah, I'll never voluntarily leave your side.” He gazed down at her, his eyes sweeping over every feature like an intimate caress.
Another waltz began and Jared raised a brow in Mariah’s direction. They spent most of the night in each other’s arms but now Mariah begged off, wanting to catch her breath and rest a while. Jared moved off toward the refreshment table to fetch them both champagne. The moment he left, Adam Warrener appeared before her, almost magically.
His expression was somewhat reserved as he smiled and asked her for the dance. “Your husband’s been so attentive, this is the first chance I’ve had to ask you,” he explained, adding that she was looking well and as lovely as ever. His gaze left her face to turn toward Jared at the refreshment table and then returned to her. The quick flash of envy in the hazel eyes embarrassed Mariah.
Suddenly Mariah remembered how infatuated he’d been on the ship and she blushed. Of course the circumstances had been different. She had been estranged from Jared at the time, but she’d been guilty of leading him
on and now she had to straighten him out on her relationship with Jared. “M’lord cuts quite a dashing figure, doesn’t he, Adam? I’m afraid that’s not a modest statement for a wife to make, but Jared and I are so close now. I’m so glad I made the trip here.” Her statement was meant to shock him into realization but he seemed to brood more with every word. “Ah, here he comes now. I’m sure if you’ll stay, Jared would like to thank you personally for taking such good care of us during the trip.” She had managed to hit on just the right thing to say to make him exit before Jared came back.
“Oh, there’s no reason to thank me; the pleasure was entirely mine,” Adam protested and, as Jared approached carrying two glasses of champagne, he scowled slightly and made his apologies. “’Fraid I haven’t time to stay and chat, Lady Carleigh. I hear the orchestra striking up another tune. If you’ll excuse me, I must do my duty and ask Mrs. Bridges for this dance.” He bowed politely and, as Jared reached her side, extended his bow to include him. “My compliments, Lord Carleigh, you have a most charming wife!”
Jared politely acknowledged the compliment, handing Mariah one of the glasses. Watching Adam make his retreat, Jared inquired testily, “What was that all about? Is that young pup still mooning over you?” His tone was light and teasing but his eyes were stormy.
Mariah gazed sympathetically after the young lieutenant, noting the somewhat bored expression on his handsome face as he held the colonel’s portly wife in his arms. “He’s no more a young pup than you are, darling. In fact, I believe he’s a year older than you.”
“I wasn’t aware you’d come to know him so well.”
Mariah smiled in charming apeasement. “Come now, Jared, you must feel some sympathy for him. He’s stuck with the same duties that you found so dreadfully boring.”
Grudgingly, Jared admitted she was right. “I suppose I do feel sorry for him.” His eyes gazed intently into hers, issuing a low-key challenge. “Especially since he doesn’t have you to fall back on. Mariah…there’s a rumor about that we may see action in the next few days. I hope you’ll remember where your allegiance lies, if I’m gone and Warrener is still around.”
Mariah was deeply wounded by the implication and her pride tempted her to respond to the wounding slight. Only the knowledge that Jared might soon be involved in heavy fighting made her repress the swift retort that had come to mind. “After the past four weeks, I should think there’d be no doubt in your mind about my loyalty.” She caught her bottom lip for just a second in her old mannerism. “Must we still keep trying to hurt each other?” Mariah placed her half-empty glass on a nearby table and took his hand in hers. “Oh, how I wish we were back in London…far from this ridiculous war!”
Jared was disconcerted, aware that he had hurt her again with his quick-flaring jealousy and touched that her worry about him had stifled her angry retort. He hurried to reassure her. “The war’ll be over before we know it, sweetheart. We’ll be home again soon.”
Just then the orchestra ceased playing and all eyes were drawn to Colonel Bridges, who stood on the musicians’ dais with his hands outstretched for silence. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve just received a communication ordering all officers to return to their billets. Sorry to have to break up your amusements, but orders are orders! The gentlemen have an hour to see the ladies home before the transport ship leaves for Balaclava.” Turning to the musicians, he asked them to play one last dance.
So, it was true, Mariah though despondently. Noting Jared’s anxious expression, she remembered to compose herself before she offered him her hand. “Well, it’s come at last, darling. I knew sooner or later we would have to end our idyll.”
Jared smiled, pleased by how well she had taken the news and swept her into his arms. They began to circle the ballroom with the other dancers. “Don’t worry, sweet,” he assured her, “I escaped the last time without a scratch. I fully intend to come back to you just as fit this time!”
All too soon the dance was over and the couples began to bid farewell and depart. Jared managed to commandeer a separate carriage for himself and Mariah while Tony rode home with Beth and Rob. The ride home was uncomfortably silent and Jared held Mariah close against his chest as though he would never let her go. Although a battle action broke up the monotony there was always the chance that some stray bullet could cut short his life, and now he worried that some capricious fate would leave Mariah a very young, very beautiful widow.
Mariah helped Jared to pack his belongings. Before they went downstairs to join the others, he pulled her to him and his lips found hers in a burning kiss that was meant to last until they saw each other again.
Chapter 46
An eerie stillness blanketed the Light Brigade encampment, under a sky adrift with innocent cottonpuff clouds. Close to eleven in the morning, the air was heavy with mist; although the sun shone intermittently, it did not brighten the drab landscape.
Ranged about the camp, in regimental segregation, were the Eleventh Hussars, Lord Cardigan’s own, the Fourth and Thirteenth Light Dragoons, and Jared’s troop, the Seventeenth Lancers. In the whole of Europe, the elite cavalry regiments of the Light Brigade were unequaled. Of the 1,000 perfectly disciplined men who had arrived in the Crimea, over 400 had perished from disease, exposure and battle skirmishes, and the remaining 673 stood about their mounts, restlessly awaiting a command to engage the enemy.
The air was heavy with discord; grumbled comments were buzzing about like angry bumble bees. It was the general consensus that they had been too long ignored as a fighting force, the infantry overused. Here and there, troopers were busy calming the skittish chargers, soothing the nervous movements of animals attuned to their masters’ underlying tenseness.
Worn and gaunt, the horses were starved, ill-kempt reflections of the men who rode them. All in the British Army, horses and men, were victims of gross mismanagement. Lack of forage, improper supply lines and almost nonexistent health standards had decimated the field troops and their mounts to a point that many felt the British High command was as much an enemy as the Russian troops they faced.
Jared lounged near his stallion, one hand resting on its heavily muscled neck. He was just polishing off the last of the biscuits and hard-boiled eggs that had served as breakfast. Captain Will Morris, only recently recovered from a bout of cholera, stood beside him. His face, still pale and waxen, held a bored irritation. They had been here since nine o’clock and had been forced to stand by as the Heavy Brigade, under Lord Lucan, had gone into action. Completing the small group was Lieutenant Michaels, a roundfaced jovial type whose constant griping about rations was a source of jest to all.
Lord Cardigan, their commander, had only just arrived, awakened late aboard his luxurious yacht at Balaclava Harbor, seven miles away. The manner in which he lived, sleeping in a dry, comfortable cabin, with a French chef to serve his meals, had done nothing to endear him to the men he commanded.
Jared reached for his canteen, anxious to wash down the dry, unappetizing meal. His long chiseled mouth twitched into a wry, wicked grin as he teased Michaels “Just think, Michaels, back home in London, we’d be eating a sumptuous breakfast; mounds of eggs and steak, steaming coffee with heavy cream, sausages…Noting the agony of longing his words had created in the man, he winked at Morris, who was also enjoying the jest. It wouldn’t have been half so much fun to tease their companion if he hadn’t taken his fast-diminishing bulk so seriously.
Michaels grunted in a paroxysm of misery, unappreciative of Jared’s high humor. He rubbed his hand over the paunch he considered so stately, and his stomach growled loudly in protest. It was well enough for Bryant to joke, he thought, he’d been lean when he arrived here. But for a man used to a great quantity of delicacies, and who was almost an expert in culinary matters, the rations here were sheer torture! It was enough to make a man consider deserting! He had less to worry about, he brooded, from Russian bullets than from being starved to death by his own army!
Jared was tempted to laug
h aloud at how well his young friend had taken the bait but the sight of Michael’s eyes, painfully regarding his stomach, restrained him. No use forcing him into a fit of apoplexy! Glancing around, he studied the faces of those around him, sensing the tense anticipation in the men. They were all as worn from inactivity as from hunger or disease. In his wildest dreams, he’d never imagined this war could be such a bloody fiasco! It had been ill-managed and full of disastrous mistakes from the beginning. The wrong uniforms, inadequate equipment and poor military strategy had wrought more harm than all the enemy attacks combined. In war, it seemed the British lost all their famous sense of order and regulation.
A distant shout and the heavy pounding of hooves drew their attention to the Worontzoff Road, which led down from the Sapoune Ridge. As the rider came closer, racing his horse toward them, Jared recognized Captain Nolan, attached to Lord Raglan’s staff as an aide-de-camp. Jared detested the man, finding him pompous and self-important, but since Nolan was a close friend of Morris’, he usually kept quiet on the subject. He had to admit the man was an excellent horseman and the ladies seemed to admire his elan but Jared seriously doubted he was worth much.
The aide’s eyes were wide and wild as he ground to an expert halt in front of them. The mount breathed heavily, well-lathered from the trip. Normally an excitable type, Nolan’s face was transformed with impatient eagerness as he demanded to know where Lord Lucan was. Only a moment after Morris had pointed behind them, where the Heavies were massed, Nolan was off. Morris called after him, “What is it to be, Nolan, are we to charge?”
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