by Abby Ayles
“I am willing to accommodate your good feelings,” he said. “On the proviso that you make a particular report of his good behavior these next months, as he serves under you. Should there be the merest whiff of another infraction, I shall not be merciful.”
Christopher felt a moment of stunned joy. It was not even relief, not as it was when he had seen Jasper demoted at last; he had been so sure that his own name would be mud along with it that he had not even thought to hope.
No, it was now as if he were being given his own position all over again.
“Thank you, sir,” he got out, his voice as strangled as Brazen’s had been only a moment before.
“Make sure I do not have cause to regret it,” the Major said gravely. He beckoned to Brazen and the two of them left together, Christopher saluting them as they went.
Christopher sank down on his cot and dropped his head into his hands. He had been saved! What grace it was, what unexpected boon.
All was not lost. There was hope yet that he could win his way back into favor, though it was slim, and hope that he could attain the position Juliana needed of him.
“I suppose you’re happy now,” Jasper sneered.
Christopher looked up in surprise, to see him framed in the doorway of what had previously been their shared bunk. “Jasper?”
“Don’t act surprised,” Jasper said. “I suppose you’re quite happy to see me, brought so low as I am.”
“I am not,” Christopher tried to protest, but Jasper was not done.
“I spit on you, and your line,” Jasper said, his face twisted with anger. “Wherever I go, I will spread foul muck on the name of Hardwicke, and that is a promise you should believe in.”
“You will not be able to spread it very far,” Christopher said, finding himself strangely calm.
He was not even upset at the turnaround of the man who had once been his friend, able now to say such things as this. He supposed they had never really been friends at all.
“No one will listen to you, now that you are not a soldier. You are nobody.”
“I will be somebody,” Jasper said darkly. “I will be a husband. And with my wife comes a title.”
“Does it?” Christopher tilted his head to one side, playing at the act of thought. “I wonder if they will let you marry their daughter, after all; or if there will be some old widower whose prospects suddenly seem more inviting than an unemployed commoner.
“Ruined reputation or no, there are plenty below her rank who might have cause to ignore it – or create their own version of the tale.”
Jasper’s face contorted through different shapes, perhaps driven by the rage he wanted to express; perhaps by the fear and doubt that Christopher hoped he had managed to instill in him.
“This isn’t over,” he said, at last.
“It’s over,” Christopher told him. “You can count on that.”
“No matter how long it takes, or what happens to me,” Jasper vowed. “I will do whatever is in my power to see you destroyed. Not just you, but your whole family – the entire name of Hardwicke.”
They stared one another down. Christopher gave him a casual, bored look; he would not be cowed by such threats, especially coming as they did from a man who was now set to be utterly powerless in a very functional way.
Still, he could not help the small tickle at the back of his neck as his hairs stood on end, telling him that maybe there was something to these words.
And though he did not believe them – or wish to believe them – there was a part of him that could not ignore such things, just in case they were a real threat of things to come.
At last, Jasper turned on his heel and strode away, leaving Christopher to close the door and find himself some peace.
Chapter 33
Juliana plucked up her quill pen, feeling now that she must write, and do it immediately.
A fever had taken hold of her, borne out of her long seclusion and longing for him, and her dreams of their future. A fever that would not be vented until she had written to Christopher, and read his reply.
Oh, how dreadfully she missed his company! His quick remarks, his wit, the dashing figure that he cut as they danced together!
Without Mary, she was quite alone in the world, or so it seemed; and only Christopher could make it so that she was alone no more.
She put her quill to the paper and wrote.
My dearest Christopher,
I am so desperate, I can only write to you. I know it is a risk that I take, for Mama and the Duke will doubtless be unhappy with me if they find my communication with you. But I have no other choice.
Oh, Christopher! It is so awful. Mary is gone, married off to John Woode. At least I am no longer expected to be his bride, but I am now alone in the world.
No friend by my side, and not even the diversion of visiting the Baroness or being forced to walk or ride with them – odious as it was.
Instead, I am locked away like a princess in a tower, and I feel often the displeasure of the household.
I think of you often. Mary is happy and settled in her new married life, which was entered into swiftly once the proposal made. They have not yet their own home, though they surely will soon.
I read her letters, telling me of bliss, and I can only dream of our own. I think of us at the table, or sitting together, or walking.
Such mundane, everyday things that every married man and wife must do together. Even those small scenes are a source of comfort to me, for I wish only to be with you once more.
Do you dream of me, Christopher? Say it is so. I cannot bear it if you shall forget me out there in your barracks.
One day soon I will be forced to run away from here and find you, and elope into the night, even if it cost me everything.
I cannot tell you how I long for this wait to be over. I pray you will send me good news in return, and that I shall receive it rather than seeing it confiscated. I pray you will have a promotion to tell me of.
In case you are unable to write back, or I cannot receive it, I will wait for you two weeks hence under the large oak tree at the border of our estate.
If you can get away, please, come and find me. Even to see your face for some half an hour will be a comfort that might carry me through a season.
I hope you do not think me weak for needing to see it. I find I am weak, and cannot go on without it. I pray that you will be there, and I wait to receive from you in the meantime any positive remembrance that you may be able to send.
Yours in hope and love,
Juliana
After a moment of thought, Juliana left off her full name; better it be this way, less of a signpost to anyone who might intercept and read it.
She hoped desperately that she could trust her maid, and that this time the letter would not go astray. Even as it was a vain hope, given previous events, she still held onto it.
The time had come, she realized, though she had not anticipated it. This whole while, when she thought of being Christopher’s wife, it had been as a distant event in some future where they would be older and somehow this commitment might be easy for them.
Now, though, it was time; and she knew it was time.
When she thought of their wedding now, she pictured it taking place tomorrow. When she imagined their married life, it was herself, now, at this age, that she pictured.
There was no longer any desire to wait or mature, no wish to let things move as they would. She was ready to be his wife – and what a cruel injustice that she had no power to make it so.
Chapter 34
Christopher had begun to feel that it was all hopeless.
He had not taken any leave, but instead had endeavored to apply himself to his duties. He had taken the most menial of tasks for his Captain and his Major, and he had done them graciously, with thanks for the opportunity to serve.
He had applied himself in drills and worked hard on the men under his command, to ensure that each of them was a soldier wort
hy of his name.
And still, he labored on, unrecognized and unthanked, and still a Lieutenant.
Which was his own fault, he knew, but what a cross it was to bear.
“Letter for you, sir,” a young boy said, peering his head around Christopher’s door. He had taken to leaving it open whenever he was inside, to make himself available at all times.
Christopher crossed the room to take it. Perhaps it was a missive from Edmund about the progress of his babe, or something from Samuel detailing his latest achievements at school.
And then he saw Juliana’s neat handwriting on the envelope, and his heart soared.
He closed the door hastily behind the retreating boy, and tore at the paper in his haste to open it. The letter inside tumbled into his waiting hands, and he sat on his cot to read it with hands that shook with excitement.
Over and over, he read every line, savored her truest feelings spilled out in ink for him.
He hastily checked the date, and found that the letter had made its way to him in good time; he was not late for the meeting she wished to arrange.
This was why he was working so hard; he remembered, now, and felt the push that it gave him to continue. If only he could receive a letter like this every week, he would never have even thought of faltering!
He had to meet her; that much was certain. He could no more allow her to suffer alone than he could deny himself the pleasure of seeing her again.
He made the arrangements – with no need to take an extended period of leave, since he would be there and back in the day; all he needed was a horse under him, and a gift to give her a token of his love.
Time seemed to move slowly after that, the days ticking onwards second by second, minute by minute. It seemed interminable, and he began to feel even as though the day would never come.
But come it did, and he set off early in the morning, riding for hours to reach her in time.
On reaching the estate, some subterfuge was needed. Christopher rode along a public way for as far as he could, and then, with a glance to check there was no one around to see, he followed a fence along the delineation of the estate from its neighbor.
It was lucky that the area around was farmland, and that he could move without having to jump fences – or climb them and leave his steed on the road for any passing thief to claim.
The oak tree rose in the distance, at first a speck and then something more recognizable: and as he drew closer, he made out her silhouette beneath it, and then he charged his horse on as fast as it could go.
He dismounted in haste, hitching the animal to the fence with fumbling fingers before he ducked through the posts and ran to her.
“Christopher!” she cried out, seemingly unable to contain herself, taking steps towards him.
He crashed against her in his rush, grasping her tightly, holding her to him so that neither would fall. It was scandalous, but there was no one to see; and so he took her by the chin and lifted her face up, and kissed her there under the oak tree, deeply and with feeling.
She gasped for breath as he released her, staring up into his eyes. “Kiss me again,” she begged.
“I cannot,” Christopher said, smiling as he took a step away, to lean on the trunk of the tree. “I fear I would not be able to restrain myself from going further than an unmarried lady should go.”
Juliana caught her breath, one hand to her stomach. “I do not know that I would stop you,” she said.
“Then it is just as well that I do not kiss you again,” Christopher grinned, both sadness and joy mixed into it.
“Christopher, you must rescue me,” Juliana said, clutching one of his hands in both of hers. “I can’t bear it. We could run away together.”
“My love,” Christopher smiled sadly, putting his free hand to her cheek.
“I know you want things to change. But we have to be patient. I am working hard, but after the whole mess with Jasper… I am lucky to be a Lieutenant still. I swear to you, I will not stop working until I am a Captain, and I will come back for you.”
“What if it isn’t enough?” Juliana asked. “What if they refuse you all the same? Or they marry me off to some hideous little lord of nothing, to have it all done with?”
“I will make it enough,” Christopher said. “I swore it to the Duke, and I swear it again now to you. I have been building not just my commission, but also my reputation. There is much damage I have to repair.”
“How so?” Juliana asked.
“Here,” Christopher said, taking off his jacket and spreading it across the ground. “Sit. I feel you trembling.”
“I am so weak with this longing,” Juliana moaned, sitting down where he had bidden her.
“Let me tell you of my plans,” Christopher said, settling down beside her.
“There is Captain Brazen, who is an inspiration to me. I have spent my time becoming one of his most trusted officers, and taking his lead. He is an honorable man, perhaps the most honorable I have ever met; and if I can be half as honorable as him, your parents would never refuse me.”
“He is the Captain that your friend Rivers displaced?” Juliana asked.
“The same,” Christopher confirmed. “I have also worked to restore to him everything that was taken.
“I managed to speak to his wife and urge her to give him another chance, and they are settled happily together at home once more. I ensured also that his reputation against the men was settled, by spreading the story that he was set up. For that, he has been thankful.”
“Do you seek some reward from him?” Juliana asked.
“That would defy the point of my actions,” Christopher said, smiling gently and kissing the back of her hand. “I must be a good man, not merely pretend to be one until I gain some reward.”
“But when will you be ready?” Juliana asked. “I need something to look forward to, Christopher, some date on which I will be happy.”
“I do not know,” Christopher frowned, squeezing her hand tightly. “But I will endeavor to work my plan as quickly as I can. There are other things afoot that I must put right, other wrongs to be corrected.
“If the winter comes and you have not yet heard from me, I will meet you here on the first of November.”
Juliana gasped, laying her head against his shoulder. “It is so far away.”
“Endure, my love,” Christopher said, kissing the top of her head. “I know it is hard; it is hard for me. I must keep moving forward and upward, and do all that I can to repair what is broken. All I need from you is that you endure.”
“I will do my best,” Juliana promised, sniffing and dabbing at her face. “I will wait as long as I can, and hold out for the winter.”
“Good girl,” Christopher murmured, ducking his head to catch her eyes and offering her a smile. “That’s all I need to keep me going.”
They were a little more relaxed again, and Christopher thought of another thing he had to ask her.
“How did you get away?” he asked. “Did they not suspect you?”
Juliana gave him a girlishly wicked look. “It was all contrived with the help of my maid,” she said.
“I began this morning with a strop, an almighty one. My mother sent me back to my room after breakfast, as she has been wont to do since the whole business with Mary and John Woode, but she was also furious with me.”
“Was that wise?” Christopher asked doubtfully.
“Very much so,” Juliana said gaily. “She won’t wish to see me for the whole of the rest of the day. She believes this to be punishment, but really it just allows me some time to myself without being badgered on my marriage prospects.
“At any rate, I waited until they were at their next meal and snuck out when my maid brought a tray of food to me.”
“They were seated in the dining room, at the far end of the house?”
“Correct,” Juliana nodded merrily. “There was not even a chance that they might see me slipping out of the door, and back over the ground
s. I may take a little more risk when I return, but the staff knows to watch for me. At least, those who are loyal to me and not to Mama.”
“Clever girl,” Christopher said, squeezing her hand with genuine pride and affection.
Parting was, as is always the case, sweet sorrow; but part they had to. The hour was already growing later, and there was double risk: that Juliana’s absence in the house would be noted and she would be sought, and that Christopher would not arrive back to the barracks before the night drew long.
