by Locke, Laura
Always pale, with a slight snub nose and wide blue eyes, Matilda was deathly white, her skin waxy with sweat. She looked pained.
“You are out of danger, are you?” Pauline asked softly.
Matilda nodded. She chuckled, though it made her breath catch. “I am,” she confirmed.
“What happened?”
“I don't rightly know,” Matilda commented. “I was on the stairs and suddenly I felt strange. Like my head was floating...all dizzy,” she explained. “Then I dropped. I fell down half the flight of stairs. I was on my back, and fortunately it seems not to have harmed Henry junior,” she said, laying a protective hand on her belly.
“Oh!” Pauline was relieved. It would have been terrible for her to lose the baby! She had longed for him – or her – so. “But you are well?”
“I was unconscious,” Matilda smiled. “Not sure whether that makes me well or not. I'm awake now,” she added, smiling. “Which helps.”
“Oh, sister,” Pauline said feelingly. “I'm so glad!”
“So am I!” Matilda laughed.
Pauline leaned forward and kissed her on the brow. Matilda kissed her chin. They sat together silently.
“I have been informed I need to stay in bed,” Matilda commented. “I could risk losing Henry junior if I walk around overmuch.”
“Yes. You mustn't,” Pauline nodded. “You seem convinced he's male?” she added, smiling, one brow arched.
“Well, apparently, from the way he's lying, he is,” Matilda said, her face twisting with pain as she shifted, moving up the bed to lie against a pillow. “I have my doubts about such things, personally. Was not Mama convinced Lucas was to be your sister?”
Pauline chuckled. “For a few months, yes,” she grinned. “I remember being excited about it. I think I was preparing for you,”
Matilda took her hand. “I'm so lucky to have you here, sweetheart.”
Pauline swallowed, throat raw. She couldn't believe how close she had come to losing her sister. She gripped her hand and felt a tear trace her cheek.
“Of course I'm here,” she said. “I missed you, sister.”
“And I you.”
They were quiet, then, the only sound the crackle of the fire and the shift of embers as they settled.
“I should rest,” Matilda said, yawning. “I've been told to recover my strength.”
“I'm sure,” Pauline nodded fervently. “I'll leave you. See you tomorrow?”
“Of course,” Matilda nodded. “I wouldn't miss it for anything.” She smiled.
“Me neither.”
They said their farewells and Pauline left. She passed the maid in the hallway.
“Is the doctor about?” she asked quickly.
“He's in the upper room, with the master,” the maid replied, indicating the stairs that led up to where Henry worked. Pauline nodded.
“Thank you.”
She found Henry in his study, the doctor with him.
He stood when he saw her. “Pauline. Thank Heavens. So glad.” He nodded.
Pauline bobbed a sketchy curtsy. “I came as soon as I heard,” she said. “Doctor? What news?”
The doctor explained to her that Matilda had almost died. The blow to her head had been serious, and the risk of losing the child was dire – a state of affairs that could have killed Matilda too.
“...I have set her to rest. I'm treating her for the head-wound too. All I can recommend is that she is fed well and not disturbed. Don't make her angry or shocked, not even a little,” he warned.
“Of course, doctor,” Henry nodded. A handsome man with a smooth face, blond hair and wide sky-blue eyes, Pauline had always thought Henry was the perfect match for her baby sister.
I love Matilda so much. I cannot be more thankful she is recovering.
When the doctor left, she gripped his arm. “Thank you.”
“Not at all, milady,” he said gravely. “I'm pleased she's safe.”
“Me too,” Pauline nodded, squeezing back tears.
Henry nodded wordlessly. When the doctor had left, he and Pauline sat together, talking in low voices. Henry was, it seemed, more shaken even than Matilda was herself. Pauline was not sure who was suffering more from shock. The poor man looked like he had aged several months since last she saw him, his face drawn, new lines on his cheeks.
“Pauline,” he said gently. “Could I ask you if you could stay? Just for a week? Until Matilda is stronger? You're good for her.” He looked hopeful, blue eyes wide.
Pauline blinked. “Thank you, Henry. I'm touched. Truly. Of course.”
Henry breathed out, relieved. “That's settled then.”
When she had taken her leave, the carriage dispatched to fetch her trunk of clothes – still packed from traveling – she went up to the drawing-room, feeling restless.
I should go for a ride. I need to get outside and think about things.
She borrowed a horse from Henry's stables, a sweet chestnut mare with a steady temper, and headed out into the fresh air.
Outside, the day was waning, the air cool and the sky starting to pale with evening. Pauline drew her cloak closer and rode slower.
She felt her heart start to relax as they rode through the familiar countryside, the tension of visiting Cornelius slowly dissipating as she rode.
She stopped on the hillside where she had stopped with Valerian. There, she looked out over the vista, pain gnawing her.
“Oh, Valerian,” she said softly. “I would love to see you right now.”
But such things do not happen, she reminded herself sadly. Life was not as one wished it. It was a trail of wearying obligations, not a flame of hope.
She turned her horse and rode, despondent, down to the valley. As she crossed the path from the woodlands, looking to her left to avoid the fence, that stood a hand's breadth from the path, she heard it.
A voice, speaking in the low, melodious tones that had haunted her for a week.
It isn't. It can't be.
She turned round.
“...and if my lady wouldn't mind, we could ride that way?”
She found herself looking into the level blue gaze of Valerian.
Chapter 17
“Valerian!” Pauline said, surprised. Her stomach fluttered and her pulse danced. He smiled.
“At your service, my lady.”
Pauline looked at him carefully as if to assure herself it really was him, not some trick of her mind. Tall, dressed in the uniform of a cavalry-officer, black hair, wide blue eyes with that particular intensity to the gaze. Thin cheeks. Expressive lips.
“Valerian,” she said again. “How...it's a surprise to see you!”
“You can say that,” he grinned. “Imagine me! I wasn't expecting you back for weeks yet.”
Pauline smiled. “You knew I was in London?” she felt flattered, her heart thumping despite the worry and tension she felt. He had really missed her! She was surprised and pleased.
“Oh, Valerian,” she smiled fondly. “It's nice to see you.”
He beamed. He had a boyish smile, surprisingly youthful. Pauline smiled to see it.
“I'm glad,” he said frankly. “It's nice to see you, too.” He drew his horse – a tall bay stallion – alongside hers. “Shall we ride?”
Pauline looked up at him, feeling her heart melt just a little. “Yes. That would be nice.”
“Well, then,” he nodded, smiling. “I think so too. It's good to have you back. If I may say so, the countryside has been awfully lacking without you.”
Pauline looked into his eyes. Again, that gentle smile touched his face, hesitant and shy. He looked almost as if he expected his words to be dismissed. Pauline drew in a shaky breath.
“I have missed you,” she confessed softly.
He rode closer and their hands touched. He gripped her cool fingers through the riding-glove. His hand was warm and strong, the grip firm below the pliant leather from the glove.
“Pauline,” he murmured.
“Valerian.”
His eyes met hers and their lips touched and they kissed. It was tricky, since they were both on horseback, but they managed it.
His eyes looked into hers.
“Pauline,” he said again. His voice was hungry and she felt her belly clench with the tingling of a similar need.
“I...” she looked round, flustered, knowing her cheeks burned with emotion. “It's good to see you,” she repeated, softly.
“And to see you,” he nodded. His gaze held hers, blue and intent. “And,” he chuckled shakily, “It's very good indeed that we're both sterling horsemen. Or that would have been impossible.”
Pauline had to laugh. “Quite so,” she said. She reined in beside him as they walked on.
They rode in silence for a while, though, for Pauline, it was a silence loud with the thud of her heartbeats. She felt sure he must be able to hear them. They echoed in her head, deafening in the quiet.
“You had a good visit?” he asked. “In London?”
“I...” Pauline bit her lip. She had no idea if he knew her purpose there, of her attachment to Cornelius. What did he think? She glanced up, but his face was still, his eyes questioning, not judging.
If he knows, he seems to understand. She cleared her throat.
“Not unpleasant,” she said truthfully. “I enjoyed seeing my cousin again.”
“I'm glad to hear it,” he said sincerely. “You went to many events?”
“Oh, a few balls, parties...nothing that touched the Officer's ball.” she blushed, hearing her own voice hesitate, shy, as she said the words.
His face brightened. “Oh! That's nice.” He smiled. “Thank you, my lady.”
Pauline smiled back. She rode closer. When he reached out a hand and rested it beside hers on the rein, then over it, she did not twitch.
They rode slowly back through the darkening countryside.
“When I was a lad, I loved the idea of traveling,” Valerian confided as they went.
“You traveled as a youth?” Pauline asked, instantly alert. Any information about his pre-army life was of immense interest.
“Not really,” he chuckled. “I went to London several times, but it always bored me. Nothing to do in London.”
Pauline laughed aloud. “Well, most people see things differently. Not me, though,” she added softly.
“You too weary of London and its diversions and entertainment?” he asked.
Pauline nodded. “Give me a walk in the countryside any day.”
“Me, too!”
They smiled shyly at each other.
“I went to Spain, of course, with the cavalry. Our regiment was recalled before Portugal. Thank Heavens.” he shook his head.
“Was it bad?” Pauline asked gently.
“Spain was bad enough,” he said, shuddering with the memory. “My lady, I do not even want to speak of what we saw. The brutality of both sides tore me apart.”
“Well, do not speak of it,” Pauline said, moving her hand so that it clasped his, loosely. “Unless you wish to do so?”
He smiled. His face was pale, the blue eyes haunted. The smile lifted the corners of that mobile mouth in a gentle expression.
“I thank you. But I will not recall it now. Mayhap...one day.” He said. “And if I did, it would soothe me to make confession to you – my heart would rest were such an angel to bear witness to my taint.”
“You are not tainted,” Pauline said strongly. “You witnessed evil. You didn't make it.”
He looked at her, blue eyes violet in the silent evening. Pauline shivered, reading the ragged pain in that gaze, the bleak hope. What have I said?
“My lady,” he said. He closed his eyes, sighing. “I cannot thank you for your words. One day, I will tell you truly what a difference they have made. They mean far more than you can know. Than I can say. All I can tell is that I am lighter, freer, for them.” he hung his head, and Pauline was surprised to see a tear trace his thin cheeks.
“Lieutenant,” she said softly. She gripped his hand and they stayed like that a moment, neither looking at the other, the touch of their hands the only anchor in the present as a thousand thoughts settled into place in the silent wood.
“Come,” he said after a long moment. “We should go back. Your family will worry.”
“I should go back,” Pauline nodded. “I'm staying with my sister and Henry now.” She indicated the distant manor, in the low valley at the left.
“Oh,” Valerian nodded. “Might I call on you there?”
“You might,” Pauline said shyly. Her heart soared at the thought: Mama could do nothing to prevent it, since it was Henry who ran the household, and Matilda. If they did not mind – and they wouldn't, she knew – there was no objection for his visit.
“Good,” he said, that boyish grin returning. “I look forward to it. Till tomorrow, then.” He raised his hat, eyes shiny and hopeful as they looked deep into hers.
“Till tomorrow, then,” Pauline said shakily.
When he had ridden away, she stayed where she was for a long moment. Then she shook herself.
“Come on, Pauline,” she told herself briskly. “You should go back.”
Nudging her horse gently to a walk, she turned left and then down, negotiating the careful path between the fields of ripening grains that went to home.
Inside, she fled to the parlor. Tea was still set out, and she took a cup, then sat in a soft chair, looking out of the window, thinking long thoughts.
She recalled the meeting, the conversation playing through her mind. Her heart shivered as she thought of his hand on hers, and his tender lips.
I cannot countenance another.
No man could be to her what Valerian was. She loved him. She knew that.
Drinking her tea, looking out at the misty, evening landscape, she made a choice. She would not let her mother drive her into marriage with Cornelius. He was utterly distasteful to her, unsuitable in every way.
I want Valerian. I love him. Whatever the truth of his story, I will find out. Even if we cannot wed, I would rather spend a lifetime of chaste friendship with Valerian, than know another man.
She let out a shivering breath. The intensity of her feeling surprised her. She finished the tea and set the cup down on the occasional table, then went to the window. She knew, now, what she had to do. She would ask Valerian. Whatever he did or said, she would allow that to guide what happened next.
He might be offended, she knew. He might be angry. She didn't think so, however. If she knew Valerian as she knew she did, he would be upset. Insulted. And he would want to set things to rights. There was, of course, the small possibility that it was true. These secrets he spoke of, the things he considered a taint of the heart. Was it only the military recollections? Or was it something else.
She had gone for too long without trusting Valerian. It was time to learn the truth of his tale.
Later, Matilda sent for her and they sat together in the big bedchamber that smelled, faintly, of smelling-salts and medicinal herbs, and ate supper. Matilda ate better than Pauline had expected, and she was glad to see some color returning to her face. She seemed more lively, too, her outlook lighter.
“Sister, you look peaceful,” Matilda said, as she set the tray aside and leaned back on her pillows. “You look like some worry has lifted off your mind.”
“I do?” Pauline blinked, surprised. “You surprise me, sister: you are quite right. I am happier.”
“Good,” Matilda said, stretching back and closing her eyes. “I am so happy to have you here with me. So happy.”
She fell asleep shortly afterward, and Pauline tiptoed quietly downstairs.
In the guest bedchamber, a fire crackling in the grate, she sat at the writing-desk and set down her thoughts in a letter. Then she folded it away. Maybe, one day, she would show Valerian.
Tomorrow, she knew, she would uncover the truth. Whatever it was.
Chapter 18
The next morning, Pauline
was quiet at breakfast. Henry joined her, briefly, but he too was lost in his own thoughts. They sat across from each other, an ocean of thoughts separating them.
“You plan to ride today?” Henry asked. He was holding the teacup one-handed, twirling it, a nervous habit. He caught her looking and put it down.
“I thought about it,” Pauline said slowly. She had planned to ride to the town to see if she could find Valerian at his lodgings. It was a risky business, for a lady calling unattended at a gentleman's rooms was unheard of. She would have to be careful about it.
“A good day for it,” Henry nodded absently, turning to stare out of the window. He picked up his tea. Swirled it thoughtfully and drank.
“It is,” Pauline nodded, swallowing some rice. They were eating kedgeree, and the spiced, warm scent filled the air pleasantly between them.
“I need to go into town,” Henry said nervously. “I want to settle as much business as I can so that I can be here when the babe is born.”
Pauline nodded. “That is good,” she approved.
He left shortly after, Pauline's hear aching for him – he looked haggard and strained, a man facing more worry than he ever expected.
Right. Now I should go to town.
She set aside her things and stood, heading to the door.
“My lady?”
She stopped. The housekeeper had appeared, wringing her hands. She looked nervous – the whole household looked nervous since Matilda's fall.
“Yes?” she asked, feeling suddenly apprehensive.
“There's a messenger downstairs. Said he wanted to speak to you.”
“To me?” Pauline frowned. “I'll come down.”
“Very good, milady.”
Pauline followed the woman slowly down the stairs, feeling her heart thud faster with every step.
“Hello?”
She stepped out of the door, to find herself facing a junior officer from the cavalry. He saluted smartly. He looked nervous. He put his hat under his arm and produced a piece of paper from his coat.
