Bound by Duty

by Diane Gaston

  ‘As you wish.’ Mark lifted Tess’s lace shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders. ‘We need to leave now.’

  ‘We will have our carriage sent around,’ Lady Summerfield said.

  ‘No!’ Tess instantly replied.

  Marc quickly added, ‘The streets are too crowded. We will make better time walking.’

  Lady Summerfield took Tess’s cheeks in her hands and kissed her. ‘My darling girl.’

  Tess shrank back. ‘Goodbye again, Mother.’

  They were soon outside and the streets were even more filled than before. Mark grasped Tess’s hand again and they threaded their way through.

  Reaching a relatively open area, he paused. ‘Are you warm enough, Tess?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said distractedly.

  They finally reached the hotel, which, even so late, was busy with people going to and fro in the lobby. They walked up the stairs and reached the hallway where her room and the rooms of his family were.

  Marc stopped her. ‘Tess, you must get what rest you can. I suspect my father will be leaving early.’

  ‘For Antwerp,’ she said.

  ‘Yes. You will be safe there.’

  She nodded, but still seemed in a daze. At the door of her room she removed her key from her reticule. He took the key and placed it in the lock.

  He wanted to kiss her, but feared she’d already had enough for one night.

  ‘Goodbye, Tess,’ he said. He did not know when he would see her again.

  She looked stricken. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To my hotel.’

  She shook her head. ‘Do not leave me.’

  * * *

  Tess opened the door and stepped aside so he would enter first.

  ‘I am too tired to argue with you,’ he said as he crossed the threshold.

  ‘Oh, you are here!’ Nancy rushed over to her. ‘Mr Glenville. You are here, too!’

  He nodded to the maid. ‘I’ll just sit for a moment. Do what you need to do.’ He took off his coat and waistcoat and lowered himself into a cushioned chair.

  Nancy turned back to Tess. ‘Have you heard the news? Of course you have. You have been out. I was so worried about you! The others came back so long ago and you were not with them, but Staines told me that Lord Northdon said I was to pack your things. I just finished. Except for your nightclothes, that is.’

  Tess kicked off her shoes. ‘Help me out of this gown, would you, Nancy?’

  Nancy unpinned the lace overdress and took it off. ‘Do you think Napoleon will march into Brussels? The Belgian maids say that is what will happen and that no Englishwoman’s virtue will be safe from his soldiers.’

  Surely Wellington would not allow that to happen. ‘Napoleon would have to defeat our soldiers first,’ Tess said.

  Nancy unbuttoned the long row of buttons at the back of the dress. ‘Lord Northdon will take us to Antwerp tomorrow where it will be safe, Staines said. We are to be ready at six.’

  A mere two hours away.

  ‘Then there is no sense of my dressing to sleep.’ Tess stepped out of the ball gown. ‘Let me change into a travelling dress.’

  While Nancy laced up the dress, Tess pulled the pins from her hair and put it in a plait. ‘You must pack your things, as well, Nancy. And try to get a little sleep.’

  ‘What about Mr Glenville?’ Nancy turned to him.

  His eyes were closed and his head rested in his hand.

  ‘I will attend Mr Glenville,’ Tess told Nancy. ‘Do not worry.’

  Nancy curtsied and hurried out of the room.

  Tess turned to Marc.

  He was sound asleep in the chair.

  There was so much she wanted to say to him. Twice he’d left her after making love to her. She wanted to tell him she finally understood that he did not want those intense emotions that rose up between them, the sort of aching emotion that he believed led to his parents’ unhappiness and the deaths of his brother and friend.

  She also wanted to thank him for returning to warn them about the French advance, for taking her to her brother and helping her endure meeting her mother.

  She wanted to tell him she forgave him for abandoning her, because he came back.

  She wanted to tell him all of that, but he needed sleep more than her words.

  She bent down and grasped his arm. ‘Wake up, Marc. You need to walk to the bed.’

  His eyes opened and fixed on her. He smiled.

  ‘Come on,’ she coaxed. ‘Stand up.’

  She placed her shoulder under his arm. He stood and allowed her to lead him to the bed. He climbed in it and immediately settled into sleep. She pulled off his shoes and climbed in next to him. She wanted to lie next to her husband.

  He rolled over and spooned her next to him. ‘Tess,’ he murmured.

  There would be no passion between them this night. The need for sleep was too great. They would share this bed as they had shared the cot in the cabin. Then and now he made her feel warm and secure and safe.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tess closed her eyes just for a moment and must have slept, because the next thing she knew, Nancy was knocking on the door. ‘Mrs Glenville! Mrs Glenville. Lord Northdon wants us in the lobby. Are you awake?’

  She sat up. ‘I am awake.’

  ‘Come now!’ Nancy cried. ‘Leave your trunk and portmanteau. Staines will see they are brought down.’

  ‘Everything is ready,’ Tess answered. ‘We will be down in a moment.’

  Marc groaned. ‘Must we rise now?’ He put his arms around her.

  She would like nothing more than to remain in his embrace. ‘We must hurry. Your father is waiting in the lobby.’

  He held her tighter. ‘I am not going with you, Tess.’

  It was as if the wind had been knocked out of her. ‘You are leaving me again?’

  He drew away. ‘I must.’

  She climbed off the bed and thrust his shoes at him. ‘No. You must come to Antwerp with us where it will be safe.’

  He frowned as he put on his shoes. ‘I cannot. I—I must be elsewhere.’

  She peered at him. ‘You are going to the battle.’

  ‘I am not saying where I am going,’ he countered.

  ‘You are going to the battle. You want to be a part of it.’ Tess’s throat constricted with emotion. She’d heard of men who craved such excitement.

  She slipped her feet into her half-boots and tied the laces. She wrapped her plait in a knot and put a bonnet over it. She picked up her shawl and a pair of gloves and felt as if her world was crumbling around her.

  ‘Are you ready?’ he asked.

  She nodded.

  They walked out the door and started down the stairs to the lobby, which was filled with more people than usual, even at its busiest time of day. Tess felt as if she were marching to the gallows.

  He stopped her on the landing. ‘I dare not take the time to bid goodbye to my family.’ He clasped her to him and held her tightly.

  ‘You are leaving me again, Marc,’ she cried against him. ‘To go to a battle. You are not a soldier. You do not have to go. You could be killed. I’ll never forgive you if you leave me again.’

  He still held her. ‘I must go, Tess.’

  ‘You choose to go. Just like before.’

  He released her. ‘Au revoir.’

  She covered her mouth with her fist, stifling a sob as he made his way across the lobby. She watched until she could see him no more.

  Wiping away tears, Tess walked down to the lobby and searched for Lady Northdon. She finally found her. Amelie stood with her, red-eyed and pale.

  ‘Ma chère,’ Lady Northdon said to Tess, ‘where is Marc? Your maid said he was with you.’

  ‘He left,’ she managed.

  ‘Pfft!’ his mother exclaimed. ‘He is always leaving! I wanted him to come with us, although he would have had to ride on top of the carriage. John says we will ride in two carriages. One for you, me, Amelie and John.’ She used her husband’s
given name. Twice. ‘The servants will ride in the second one.’

  Lord Northdon worked his way over to them. ‘Staines is collecting the luggage.’

  ‘Marc is not coming with us,’ Lady Northdon told him. ‘He is disappearing again, Tess says.’

  Lord Northdon muttered under his breath. ‘Not disappearing. Working.’

  Tess heard him.

  ‘Maman, may I sit?’ Amelie looked ready to collapse.

  Lady Northdon walked her to some chairs and sat with her. They were out of earshot.

  Tess turned to Lord Northdon. ‘What did you mean by working, sir?’

  He shook his head. ‘I ought not to have spoken.’

  She faced him directly. ‘What did you mean?’

  He leaned down and whispered in her ear, ‘Working for the Allies.’

  She felt the blood drain from her face. ‘Marc told you he worked for the Allies?’

  He leaned down again. ‘No. He told me nothing, but I am certain of it.’

  Her hands shook. ‘Will he be in danger?’

  ‘I fear so,’ he said. ‘I fear he has been in danger more times than we ever knew.’

  He’d not left her to hike through the Alps. He’d been called to duty.

  The hotel door opened as two carriages rolled up.

  Staines ran in from outside. ‘These are our carriages, sir,’ the footman said.

  The streets were nearly empty except for a stray officer here and there who apparently was getting a late start. Peasants with their carts filled with cabbages, green peas, potatoes and other produce rumbled leisurely past the hotel. It seemed a peaceful, normal day.

  Lord Northdon nodded. ‘Let us get the trunks loaded as quickly as possible.’

  While they waited for the luggage to be brought to the carriage, Mr Caldwell and his daughter entered the hotel.

  Mr Caldwell carried a portmanteau. ‘My lord, there you are. Are you leaving the city?’

  ‘I am taking the ladies to Antwerp,’ Lord Northdon answered.

  ‘Might I beg a favour of you, then,’ he went on. ‘I must remain in Brussels, but might I prevail upon you to take my daughter with you to Antwerp? I would be most grateful to you.’

  Lord Northdon looked to his wife. ‘I am not certain we have room in the carriage.’

  ‘John,’ Lady Northdon said. ‘We cannot leave the girl. We must take her.’

  ‘Very well, Caldwell.’ Lord Northdon turned to his wife. ‘I will sit on the outside.’

  Lady Northdon looked aghast. ‘You will do no such thing. We will simply squeeze into the seats.’

  Miss Caldwell, looking very stressed, gave them a wan smile. ‘Are you certain of this?’

  ‘There will be room for Miss Caldwell.’ Tess raised her voice. ‘I am not going with you. I am staying here.’

  ‘Tess!’ Amelie cried. ‘You cannot!’

  ‘I will stay.’ She thought quickly. ‘My—my mother invited me. She is here in Brussels. My brother has been staying with her.’ Although Tess had no intention of accepting that invitation.

  Lord Northdon faced her, a look of concern on his face. ‘It may become dangerous here.’

  ‘Count von Osten will protect us.’ She did not explain who the count was and none of them asked.

  Lady Northdon peered at her. ‘Ma chère, are you certain?’

  Tess answered her in French. ‘Oui, madame. Je suis certaine.’

  Nancy spoke up. ‘I will stay, too.’

  Tess walked over to her and put her arm around the girl. She knew Nancy was afraid. ‘You will do no such thing. You must go to Antwerp and help Lady Northdon and Amelie. You may attend Miss Caldwell.’

  ‘But you will be alone!’ Nancy cried.

  ‘I will not be alone. I will be with my mother and she has dozens of servants. I will be safe. I promise you.’ She turned towards Lord and Lady Northdon. ‘I want to be here to see my brother. I will also look for Captain Fowler and send you word of him.’

  But most of all she wanted to stay in Brussels for Marc, because it all suddenly made sense. Why he left without any notice. Why he sent no letters. Why he lied about where he’d been. Mr Scott. The Duke of Richmond. Were they involved in this, as well? Marc would come back to Brussels to report to someone, she guessed, if not them.

  If he came back.

  Marc was no longer running away from her. He was running into danger.

  * * *

  Nancy said a tearful goodbye to Tess before she climbed in her carriage and it pulled away. The first carriage carrying Lord and Lady Northdon, Amelie and Miss Caldwell had already left. Tess returned to the hotel lobby and informed them she would still be their guest. Her trunk and portmanteau would be returned to her room while she ate a quick breakfast in the hotel’s dining room. There were a few other guests like herself with worry written all over their faces.

  At a table near her were two officers seated with two young women and another man—their brother by the family resemblance. Why had the officers not yet left? she wondered.

  ‘Nothing will happen today,’ one said confidently. ‘We may be assured of overtaking the regiment at a place called Waterloo where the men are to stop to cook.’

  Tess hoped they were right. She hoped no men would die on a battlefield this day.

  She ate only a little and returned to her room to sleep, removing only her hat, gloves and shoes and lying down in her clothes where she’d so recently lain with Marc.

  * * *

  She woke to cannonade, louder than the day before. Yesterday’s had come from a battle between Napoleon’s army and the Prussians. Where was today’s cannonade coming from?

  She rose and did what she could to neaten her hair. Again donning her bonnet and half-boots, she left the hotel and made her way to the park in hopes of learning some news.

  The park was a different place than it had been that first day when she and Amelie saw it for the first time. Gone was the gaiety and sense of anticipation. It was replaced by strained expressions on the few people walking there. The cannons boomed over and over, like a death knell. How many men were fighting at this very moment, how many men were falling injured, how many were falling, never to rise again?

  Where was Marc?

  ‘Dear God,’ she prayed. ‘Keep them safe. Keep Marc, Edmund and Captain Fowler safe.’

  She saw the two women and their brother from the hotel. Their soldier companions were no longer with them.

  She approached them. ‘Pardon me. Do you have any news? Do you know where they are fighting? Do you know anything at all?’

  One of the women smiled sympathetically. ‘We have talked to many people. Some say the battle is six miles away; some say it is twenty miles away. Someone told us our army won a complete victory. Someone else told us our men were completely cut to pieces. It is all rumour. We do not know anything with certainty.’

  Tess thanked her and walked on.

  A few minutes later she saw Count Von Osten crossing the park at a brisk pace. There was no way to avoid him.

  He recognised her and hurried to her side. ‘Tess! We thought you would be on your way to Antwerp.’

  ‘The others went. I decided to stay,’ she said.

  ‘Where is your husband?’ he asked.

  ‘Gone.’ What more could she say? ‘I am alone.’

  ‘Alone?’ His brows shot up.

  ‘Yes. Alone,’ she responded. ‘Do you have any news of the battle?’

  He looked concerned. ‘What? You should not be out walking unescorted. The town is not safe.’

  ‘Do not worry over me. Have you any news?’

  ‘Well,’ he finally answered, ‘I just spoke with Scovell who was at the battlefield. Our army was attacked when only two of the regiments were at the ready.’

  ‘Which regiments?’ she asked.

  He looked sympathetic. ‘The 92nd and 42nd Highland Regiments; the 28th —Edmund’s regiment—and the Royal Scots joined the fighting later.’

  Tess’s heart s
hot into her throat at his mention of her brother. ‘Is there any word of Edmund?’

  ‘No casualty reports yet, I’m afraid. We know nothing of Edmund.’ He frowned. ‘The good news is that our boys held their own. There was no victory, but no loss, either, and the entire army will be ready for what comes next.’

  It was not over.

  Two Belgian men, obviously inebriated, staggered towards them.

  ‘What have we here?’ one said in French. ‘Come with us, miss. We will show you a better time than that old man.’ He grabbed her arm.

  That old man, Count Von Osten, flew into action. He rapped the man’s fingers with his walking stick, so hard that the man let go. He beat on both men with his stick until they turned and ran.

  ‘Are you all right, my dear?’ he asked Tess.

  She nodded.

  He offered her his arm. ‘Come with me. You need protection. I am taking you to your mother’s house.’

  She was so shaken that she agreed.

  ‘We will go directly to your mother,’ he said. ‘I will send one of our servants to collect your things from the hotel.’

  As they walked, the cannonade continued. ‘It is not over,’ she said more to herself than to the count.

  He made a worried sound. ‘Apparently not.’

  * * *

  When they reached the house, the count sounded the knocker, but the door did not open. Instead a voice from inside shouted, ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Von Osten,’ the count called back.

  The door opened a crack and the footman who had greeted them the night before opened the door.

  Lady Summerfield spoke from the top of the stairs. ‘Is it the count, Jakob?’

  Von Osten answered as he entered the hall, ‘I have brought you your daughter.’

  ‘My dear girl!’ Lady Summerfield rushed down the stairs and threw her arms around Tess. ‘You have come back to me!’

  Her mother’s affection was painful. ‘It seems I needed a safe place to stay after all. The rest of the family have gone to Antwerp.’

  Lady Summerfield released her. ‘Why did you not go to Antwerp, sweet one?’

  Tess swallowed. She could not explain about Marc or about how she needed to find him when he returned to Brussels. ‘I—I wanted to stay. For Edmund.’

  Lady Summerfield pressed the back of her hand against her forehead. ‘Oh, Edmund! I have been so worried about him! Did you hear those cannons today? But, come, we will have our best bedchamber prepared for you. Have you eaten?’