by Carla Kelly
She only smiled and picked up a bowl of soup. “Jack, you even have my permission to drink it out of the bottle.”
His eyes widened. “I didn't know there was any other way, Miss Hamilton.”
“Major Beresford, you are a dreadful actor. I wonder why they keep you around here.”
Albert looked from one to the other. Small choking sounds came from his throat as he struggled to preserve his phlegmatic mien. “Madam, will there be anything else?”
“No, Albert. Except … thank you.”
He bowed and left, returning quickly with a brown bottle, which he handed to the major. Disapproval was written all over his face, but he made no comment, only bowed again, turned precisely on his heel, and left.
Jack drank long and deep. He raised his eyebrows at Onyx in an inquiring manner.
“Don't you do it,” she warned. “Even your credit is not that good.”
He grinned, took another swig, and belched. Onyx burst into laughter. She tried to smother it but couldn't. Jack only grinned at her and took another swallow, sinking down on the divan beside her and stretching his long legs out in front of him. “Emily would never approve,” he said at last.
“And you think I do?” she murmured.
“Oh, no, but you're different, Onyx.” He rested the empty bottle on his stomach. “We've been through too much together, I suppose. I have only to look at you to know what you're thinking. After living four years among people to whom guile has been raised to a fine art, I find your crystal-clear emotions a regular balm of Gilead.” He took another pull from the empty bottle, retrieving the last drop. “Chalking told me that he has set up a cot in the little room next to Adrian's. You have my permission to lie down on it before your face drops in that soup.”
She took a few more sips and set it aside. “And what about you?”
“My dear, I will fluff up this frippery little pillow here, unbutton my pants, and stretch out on this sofa. I expect Emily at any moment, but I must grab a little sleep before the next engagement begins, and so must you. Now, get to it.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, amused at his audacity.
Onyx knew that she would not sleep, but her eyes closed the moment she lay down. She slept solidly until she heard the front door open and Emily and Alice came into the hall, Emily calling for Jack. She thought she would go to Emily, but her eyes closed again. She was aware that Emily and Jack came into the room where Adrian was sleeping. She heard them speaking together softly, and then it was quiet again.
She woke in the darkness to the sound of Adrian talking in his unknown foreign language again. The odd sound of it sent shivers down her spine. She lit a candle, her hand trembling as she tried to hold the sulfur next to the wick. She wrapped a blanket around herself and tiptoed into the room.
Adrian was sitting up in bed. Her heart leapt in her throat. He was so skeletal that she fancied she could see through him. The moon reflected against the whiteness of his wasted flesh, and she felt her skin crawl. His eyes were open for the first time, and his head turned as he followed her quiet entrance into the room. He said something to her, but it made no sense. She came closer, terrified of him.
Adrian stared at her. His mouth opened and closed. She inched closer and held out her hand to him, but he did not take it. She stared at him and then waved her hand back and forth in front of his face, her unease deepening when she saw that his eyes were unfocused, unseeing.
She gathered her courage about her and gently forced him to lie down. She closed his eyes and held her hand over them, feeling the orbs moving about under her touch, his eyelashes fluttering. “Adrian, please rest,” she whispered in his ear. “You'll feel better in the morning.”
His sigh was almost imperceptible, but at last his eyes were still and she removed her hand. She lit the branch of candles and looked about her. There on the bedside table was the book she had asked Emily to procure for her in York. She picked it up, smiling to herself.
“Oh, Adrian, it is Pride and Prejudice,” she told him. “I especially asked Emily to find it for me.” She settled herself in the chair, pulling it closer to the bed.
The book was new and smelled of leather and ink. She sniffed it. “Lord Sherbourn, I am sure there is nothing so fine as the odor of a new book. It is one of those little things I so enjoy. Jack laughs at me because I take such pleasure in little things, but it is little things I am used to.”
He gave no sign that he heard her, but he was still. “Very well, then, my lord, if you have no objection, let us begin.” She turned to the first chapter. “‘Chapter One. It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.’ ”
She pulled the candle branch closer and wove the tale of the Bennet family into the night, pausing when Lord Sherbourn began to writhe and turn and pluck at his skin again. She rubbed his arms, singing softly to him, until his motions ceased. When he was quiet, she picked up where she had left off, her voice low but firm in the silence of the house.
When four hours passed, she took a deep breath and continued reading, pausing at last when Lord Sherbourn began to rest his hands on his swollen abdomen, and she knew he was truly and deeply in pain again and not merely craving the morphine. She poured his medication into the silver cup, pursed his lips, and poured it down, relaxing as he relaxed, breathing slower herself as his respirations evened out and he slept. She marked the place in the book and laid it in her lap as her head tipped forward and she slept too.
She woke an hour later to Jack's hand on her shoulder and wondered only a moment why his touch did not startle her. She was becoming familiar with it. That thought caused her a tiny distress, even as she was grateful for his presence.
“Weren't you supposed to wake me when Adrian began to stir?” he asked. “Here now, Onyx, I have slept half the night away.”
“I considered,” she replied, “but decided to read to Adrian instead.”
He picked up the book from, her lap, turning to where she had marked. “Chapter Twenty-two! Onyx Hamilton, you are a worse widgeon than Emily!”
“No, I'm not, Jack,” was her reply. “You need your rest. I am not the one who suffers from loss of blood.” She turned her head to look him right in the eye. “Why do men think recuperation does not take time?”
“Because we are stupid.” He touched her cheek. “You'll not object if I sit with you?”
“No, although I would prefer that you returned to the couch.”
He pulled up another chair beside her, watching his brother, pulling up the coverlet, and smoothing the hair from Adrian's eyes.
“Emily?” Onyx asked.
“She had a fine time in York. I convinced her that Adrian would sleep, and she should be in bed. Luckily, she gave no objection.” He laughed softly. “I think Alice Banner must have dragged her down every side street in York until she was worn down to the nub.”
“Alice has never been slow in her duties. And I suspect she enjoys taking charge of Lady Sherbourn.”
“Rather than her own Onyx Hamilton, who would prefer of all things not to be bullied?”
“Perhaps,” was all she would say.
They sat in silence another moment. The moon's glow reminded Onyx again that summer was starting to happen outside the windows of Sherbourn. Soon all the flowers would be in bloom; the trees would lose that tentative lime green of spring and deepen into the emerald of summer. It was her favorite time of year; she wondered if she would enjoy any of it this strange summer.
She looked at Jack Beresford, who was outlined by the moonlight that flowed through the window and across Adrian's bed. She admired the serenity of Jack's face at rest, his air of complete dependability. I always know where I stand with Jack, she thought. I do not think he would ever turn on me or take someone else's words for my conduct.
She said nothing to him, even when he sensed that she was staring at him and turned toward her. She smiled at him and looked away to contemplate Adrian
. Jack's gaze continued to rest on her. During the day this would have embarrassed her, but it was night now, and the moonlight softened everything. She felt safe.
Jack broke the spell finally. “Do you know, I remember a time …” He settled lower in his chair. “Do you mind the reminiscence of an old soldier?”
“You know I do not mind.”
“I don't even recall the name of the village, but we, through, I must confess, an error of mine, found ourselves standing in deep … uh, water. Onyx, have the good grace to at least look away if you must laugh at me! There was no way we were going to survive the night.” He chuckled at the memory. “I don't know any other time when I have been so … surrounded. We all accepted the fact that we were going to die.”
He looked at her and touched her cheek. “You couldn't possibly imagine the feeling, Onyx. To be so sure of something so … final.”
Adrian moved and Jack reached forward to cover his arms again. “All I wanted in the whole world was to see Adrian and my mother again and tell them I loved them. Nothing more. You see, I had never been one to say such things, not even when I bade them both good-bye after Adrian's wedding.”
“What happened?”
“Well, morning came, as it always does. It may even come here tomorrow. Picton had the kindness of heart to send the Ninety-second Highlanders to rescue a foolish major and his ragtag regiment. I'm sure the Scots have a low opinion of us still.” He laughed again, but it was an embarrassed laugh. “We sat there and cried like babies.”
She touched his arm and he took her by the fingers, lacing his hand into hers. “I never had a chance to tell my mother I loved her. She died that spring. But Adrian—I have been given the chance and I will tell him.”
Jack let go of her hand and sat forward, his hands clasped together between his knees. When Adrian grew restless, Onyx opened the book in her lap to Chapter Twenty-two. As Jack watched, and then leaned back in his chair, his feet on the bed, she touched Adrian's arm. “Hush, Adrian. Let us continue. ‘The Bennets were engaged to dine with the Lucases and again during the chief of the day, was Miss Lucas so kind as to listen to Mr. Collins.’ ”
She woke up hours later when the book finally hit the floor. She couldn't remember the last chapter she had read, but it had been at some point when the sky was just beginning to turn pink and before the birds had caught wind of it.
Onyx looked over at Jack, feeling guilty for nodding off, but he was asleep too, his feet still on Adrian's bed, wearing socks but no shoes. His head was tipped down, and she could not see his face, but from the regular rise and fall of his shoulders, she could tell that Jack was no better at watching than she.
Her whole head was stiff from leaning so far back. She closed her eyes again and rubbed her neck. Someone cleared his throat, and she stopped her hand, holding her breath.
“Pardon me, miss, but how am I to know what happens to Eliza Bennet if you are continually nodding off?”
The voice was weak; she could hardly hear it above the racket of the grackles encroaching in the hawthorn tree outside the window. She lowered her arm slowly, as if afraid a sudden movement would disrupt the speaker.
She opened her eyes and found Adrian Beresford, Lord Sherbourn, looking back at her.
“And while we are at it, who are you?”
She could only stare at him, her mouth partly open, her eyes wide. He watched her with what she could only have described as a grimace twisting his face. When she realized he was attempting to smile, her heart went out to him and she found her voice again.
“Lord Sherbourn,” she said.
“I know who I am,” he agreed, “but you still have the advantage of me.”
“Beg pardon,” she began, “I am Onyx.” She stared in fascination at his eyes, brown like his brother's, but tinged yellow where the white should be.
“Did my brother have the good sense to marry?”
“Oh, no,” she said impulsively, “your brother has no sense. I'm Onyx Hamilton. We met … well, he saved me.” Lord Sherburn's brows drew together in a frown. “It's hard to explain. Jack can tell you.”
She turned to Jack, who still slept, and shook him awake. He was on his feet in seconds, looking about him in panic, and she realized she should not have startled him. She leapt to her feet and put an arm around his waist. “I'm sorry, Jack, I didn't mean …”
He was not attending to her. Suddenly shy and acutely aware that she was the stranger in the room, Onyx let go of him and stepped back out of the way as Jack fell to his knees and gathered his brother in a gentle embrace. He cradled him carefully in his arms.
“You have returned,” Adrian said, his voice the merest whisper.
“So have you, dear brother,” Jack replied.
“Perhaps … for a time,” his brother said. He turned his head slightly in Jack's arms to take Onyx into his view again. “Could you not send that charming woman to find some food?”
Jack looked at her too. “I think she would only be too happy. And perhaps she could even wake Emily.”
“Yes, that would be excellent. And how did you find Emily?”
“Burned down to the socket,” Jack stated. “If I were not so glad to see you again, I would rain coals of fire on your head for not writing to me about this.”
“You had enough to do. Don't scold. Is there water in that carafe?”
Onyx left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Chalking stood just outside. He fixed her with an inquiring look, and she nodded, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “Oh, Chalking,” was all she could say until she collected herself and remembered her errand. “Can you bring some gruel? And make it very thin? He is hungry. And then I think you should send someone for Dr. Hutchins.”
Chalking bowed and hurried off, a spring in his step again that hadn't been there before.
Onyx took the stairs two at a time and knocked at Emily's door. Emily opened it after a few moments, rubbing her eyes. She started to speak, noticed the great excitement on Onyx's face, and without a word threw on her wrap and darted down the stairs. Onyx heard the door to the parlor open and close again. She waited in the hall until she heard Chalking go into the room, leave the tray of food, and then quietly close the door behind him.
The sound of the door closing seemed to ring in her ears. “We have done the thing, Jack,” she said softly to herself. Her part was over now; it remained to pack and return to the vicarage.
It was time for her to leave. The closing of the door had reminded her. She would pack and pry Alice loose from the accounts and take the next mail coach back to Chalcott.
The manor was filled with the silence of early morning. Onyx realized how exhausted she was, how desperate for sleep. She went to her room, kicked off her shoes, and sank down on the bed. She remembered covering herself with her shawl and then remembered nothing more.
Onyx woke hours later only because she knew someone was watching her. She opened her eyes and looked into Jack's eyes.
She sat up, covering her legs where her dress had wandered up to her knees. “Jack, whatever are you doing in here?” she demanded, out of sorts with him for his intrusion.
“Well,” he began reasonably, “you left the door wide open and the rain was coming in the window.” He shrugged. “I came in to close the window, and then I sat down on Mama's chaise. I guess I fell asleep.”
He went to the window, resting his hand on the draperies, watching the rain spill down the window. “It's more … more than that. I guess I feel … lonely.”
The irritation left her. While his back was turned to her, she straightened her dress and draped her shawl carefully over her stocking feet. “Jack, what have you to feel lonely about? Adrian has come back to you.”
He shook his head. “No, not to me. To Emily.” He sat down again in that characteristic way of his, with his hands clasped together between his knees. “I suppose nothing is ever the same again, is it, Onyx?”
“No,” she agreed softly. “I don't suppose it i
s.”
“She loves him so much. So do I, but it's different now that he is married.”
Something else was troubling him. She could see it in his eyes. Funny how a tough veteran like Jack could be so exposed that way. “Jack,” she asked suddenly, “do you ever play cards?”
He brightened a moment. “No! I can't keep a single secret. No one ever wants to partner me.” He sighed. “Mama always said I was clear as glass. There's more, Onyx, and I don't like the way I feel about it.”
She got up and sat beside him on the chaise. “What's really wrong, Jack? You should be so happy.”
He waited a long minute before answering her, as if measuring her regard. “You'll think I'm terrible,” he said at last. “I think I'm terrible.”
“I could never think any such thing of you,” she said. “Tell me what's wrong.”
“I-I … You're the only one I can talk to about this.”
“Tell me.”
He took a deep breath. “Dr. Hutchins came and looked Adrian over, and congratulated us. There's more, but that subject will keep. Well, after he left, I went to the bookroom and visited with Alice.” He touched her arm. “She is a wonder, Onyx. I am sure you never deserved her.”
Onyx smiled. “Indeed, no.” She waited for him to go on.
“She … she showed me the estate's books. Onyx, this place has been so badly mismanaged!” His words came rushing out in a tide of anger. “Adrian and Emily have spent money right and left. They've squandered and lived foolishly. Clothes, horses, balls, our manor in London, coaches.” He leapt to his feet, unable to remain still. The room was full of him as he paced in front of the window. “And suddenly I found myself so angry with Adrian! Just furious! When I think how I starved and struggled just to stay alive for four years in the Peninsula, and all the time Adrian was back here doing a merry dance! I wanted to strangle him!” He sat down again, all the fight out of him. “What's the matter with me?” he whispered. “How can I be angry at him? Am I such a monster?”
The Reverend Littletree would have assumed a pose and spouted a sermon, but Onyx didn't know any sermons. She just pulled Jack Beresford into her arms and rested his head on her bosom as she had done once before, crooning to him and resting her hand on his head. His arms went around her, and he clung to her.
