A Widow's Salvation (Cotillion Ball Saga Book 8)

by Becky Lower

  Soon enough, Pepper rose and positioned herself before Daniel, on the wounded leg side. He took hold of her hand as she helped him to his feet. He put no weight on the prosthetic just yet and hovered beside the bed. Pepper urged him to center himself and put equal weight on both legs. He tried to take a step and howled in pain, falling back into the bed.

  “I shoulda known better than to think this bloody stupid thing would work,” he yelled as he unhooked the prosthetic and threw it across the room.

  Elijah’s lips tightened, and he took a step forward, then stopped. Pepper and Daniel needed to work things out on their own.

  Pepper crossed the room, picked up the device, and returned to Daniel’s bedside. The only outward sign of her discomfort was in the way she ran her hand over her hair when she stood. Her tender tone was gone, and she admonished him as if he were one of her sons, standing in front of him with the device in her hands.

  “No one said it was going to be easy, Daniel. But do you want to go home to your family in a wheelchair or standing? Right here and right now, it’s your choice. Your future is in your hands. You decide what you want to do with it. If you want to be a cripple for life or not.”

  Pepper and Daniel stared at each other for a long minute, and Elijah held his breath as he witnessed their showdown of wills. If Daniel refused to try again, Elijah thought Pepper would leave the hospital, broken down, and would never return.

  Finally, Daniel grabbed the prosthetic from Pepper, strapped it on his leg with short, choppy motions, and stood again, with her help. She wrapped one arm around his waist, and together they crossed the room. Elijah let out his breath slowly as he observed their slow progression across the room and back again.

  Daniel turned when he got to his bed and asked to cross the room once more. Tears of pain were streaming down his face. Pepper brushed his tears from his cheeks, then wiped her own tears away, as well. But judging from the look of satisfaction on her face, they weren’t tears of pain, but rather of joy. Elijah turned then, before they spotted him, let out a long breath, and left the ward. Pepper had been successful with her first physical therapy lesson.

  Had Elijah expected any less of her? She might have a pleasant, gentle exterior, but she had a will of iron. Others might be fooled into thinking Pepper Brown was a society lady who never got her hands dirty, but Elijah had firsthand experience to the contrary. And he enjoyed the fact he’d seen through her calm exterior and found the strong backbone that defined her. She gave him strength, too, at a time when he’d almost lost it.

  His nightmares had lessened, he was eating better since she insisted on sharing her cook’s excellent meals with him, and he’d even left the hospital on several occasions, at her insistence. He hadn’t made any more impromptu visits to the park, but he had left the hospital long enough to take a stroll around the fort on foot or a ride into the country for a half hour. It was all he needed to energize himself. He owed much of his fresh attitude to Pepper Brown. Their friendship and mutual respect was turning into more, and he eagerly sought her out each time she came to the hospital. Maybe it was time to take their relationship one step further and ask her out. He hadn’t been to the opera in ages. Not since before Elisabeth had died.

  He was immersed in paperwork when Pepper returned from the ward, carrying the prosthesis. Elijah glanced up from his desk and noted the smile of triumph on her face. He grinned at her.

  “So, a successful outing, I take it?”

  “It was wonderful, once that stubborn man got going. We managed to not only walk back and forth across the room, but he insisted on circling the entire ward, so he could show off to the others before he got tired. As I suspected, he’s the right person to try this experiment with.” She danced around the room, using the prosthesis for a partner.

  “And you’re the right person to make these men do physical therapy. You don’t put up with their nonsense.”

  “I had to rescue the device from Daniel. Otherwise, he’d have tried it on his own, and he’s not yet ready. I want to show it to Halwyn, anyway. He’s stationed here at the fort, and although his primary job is to recruit and train new soldiers, I’m sure he can influence those higher up to see the value in making our men who have been wounded somewhat whole again by providing them with prosthetic legs they can actually use. If anyone can talk the Army into doing something, it’s my brother. He’s the right person for that job.”

  She finally collapsed into a chair on the opposite side of the desk.

  “So I’m losing you as a surgical partner then?”

  She shuddered. “I hope never again to go into surgery, even if it is beside you. I much prefer helping in other ways.”

  “All right, then. I’m hoping you can help me out in another way. I haven’t been to the opera since my wife died, and I’d love to go again. La Traviata is coming to the Academy of Music next week. Would you do me the honor of accompanying me?”

  Pepper’s gaze met his, and he noticed the sparkle in her eyes. “This, I take it, would be for purely medicinal purposes?”

  “My mental health hinges on it, yes.”

  “How can I possibly say no, then? My parents have a box at the Academy we can use. It would be a nice evening.”

  “All right, then. I’ll order the tickets.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Pepper’s stomach had been unsettled all day. Excitement at being able to again attend the opera coupled with whom she was being escorted by drew her stomach into knots. She’d eaten lightly, spent hours in her bedroom with Molly to select the most appropriate gown to wear, and then changed her mind twice before finally settling on a fine silver brocade with a fitted bodice, a low neckline, and horizontally pleated fabric caught between her breasts by a woven blue flower. The skirt fell in three tiers over an elliptical hoop. Each tier was banded with two inches of blue satin, which perfectly matched her eyes. The sleeves were short and puffed. Molly worked with Pepper’s long hair, pinning it into a lovely mass of curls atop her head.

  “’Tis so nice, m’lady, your attending the opera again,” Molly said through the hairpins in her mouth.

  “Yes, it’s about time I have some fun. I’ve been so busy with the boys and with the men at the hospital I’ve quite forgotten the enjoyment a night out can bring.”

  “’Tis a shame, though, that your husband won’t be with you. La Traviata was his favorite, as I recall.”

  Pepper smiled slightly as she and her lady’s maid stared at each other in the mirror. Pepper reached up and placed her hand over Molly’s. “Yes, it was. And, who knows? Maybe it’s a favorite of the colonel’s, too. There’s nothing wrong with sharing an evening of entertainment with him.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Molly grew quiet as she affixed the last of Pepper’s curls. Then she handed Pepper the drop earrings she was to wear and fastened the diamonds around her neck.

  Pepper rose as the knock at the front door signaled her escort was at the house. She gathered up her sable wrap and a small reticule and moved to the staircase, hovering for a moment at the top. Elijah waited at the foot of the stairs. She caught his eye before she glided down the staircase and to him.

  “You are lovely tonight, Pepper.”

  “Thank you, Elijah. You cut a dashing figure yourself.” She took note of his dress uniform and how well it displayed his physique. He helped her into her fur and held his arm out to her. She wrapped a gloved hand around his proffered arm, and they proceeded to the waiting carriage.

  Elijah had chosen a small enclosed carriage, due to the cold weather. The driver was well bundled against the elements, but Elijah had apparently known Pepper’s evening gown would do little to protect her against the elements so he thoughtfully arranged for an enclosed carriage for the evening. Pepper settled in, her wide skirt and hoop taking up the rest of the seat. Elijah sat opposite her.

  Pepper plucked at the material of her skirt, smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles. She was suddenly shy around Elijah, and her stomach was quivering
under her gown. She told herself she was being foolish. They had been this close to each other at the hospital, while she shaved him in his office, when they were in the operating room, when they shared conversation as he ate the food she’d brought from home. Why did being whisked away to the opera house seem so much more intimate? She inhaled a ragged breath and twisted her gloves. Because it was more intimate. Despite what she told herself, they had moved beyond friendship to courting, at least in the eyes of society. And the thought of what could happen this evening excited her. Terrified her.

  The drive to the Academy of Music took only a few minutes. Elijah helped her alight from the carriage, and they found their seats in the Fitzpatrick box. Fortunately, no other family members were in attendance, and they had the box to themselves. The seating in the theater was one of the most talked about in New York circles, as the seats were so close together in order to accommodate four thousand guests at a time that it made for an uncomfortable evening, unless one was in a box seat. And even there, if more than six people were on hand, with a lady’s full skirts and hoops to contend with, it became less than a pleasant experience.

  But tonight, it was only Pepper and Elijah in the box. It might as well have been only Pepper and Elijah in the entire theater, for all the more attention she paid to everyone else. Elijah placed their seats in the middle of the box, and Pepper spread her gown to the side opposite him. He moved his chair closer as the evening got underway, and she caught a whiff of his aftershave.

  The orchestra began to warm up, and the discordant sounds brought a smile to Pepper’s lips. Screeching violins, shrill reed instruments, an errant cymbal, a pounding bass drum all competed for dominance in the orchestra pit. “This is my favorite part. I always wonder how such an awful noise can morph into something so elegant. But it happens every time.”

  “You are a vision tonight. The candles’ light adds a luster to your gown.”

  “And you, sir, are a consummate flatterer.” She smiled and tapped his arm with her fan. Her stomach ceased quivering, finally, and she inhaled a deep breath.

  She settled back into her chair, and Elijah took hold of her gloved hand. “Are you ready? Violetta and Germond are about to entertain us.”

  The lights lowered, the conductor stood in front of the orchestra, and the sound of violins swelled into the Academy.

  “I don’t care what people say about the Academy’s shortfalls in seating. This theater has the best acoustics ever. I love the music as much as I do the singing.” She leaned toward Elijah in order to talk to him over the flowing sound. Then, she once again sat back in her chair, but kept her hand in his as the music swelled and soared. Her heart swelled and soared in the same fashion. It was partly due to the music and the acoustics, but the larger part was due to the gentleman sitting next to her. What should she do about it? About him? Her heart pounded as she thought about where their relationship was heading. And it was heading somewhere, despite her reservations. And despite her wish to remain a war widow.

  • • •

  Elijah kept stealing glances at Pepper throughout the evening. The silver brocade of her gown caught the light from the candles hanging overhead, but he had no doubt the luminescence actually came from the woman inside the gown.

  La Traviata was a very romantic and tragic opera, but it was secondary to his own romantic and tragic life. To the romantic and tragic lives of both people in the box this evening. Pepper and he had each lost their first true loves, one to an accident, one to the ghastly war. And they were both fighting their way back the best way they could. Her hand warmed his during the first act of the opera, and he took comfort in the small gesture of holding a lady’s hand.

  She rose when the house lights came up and turned toward him.

  “I always love the first act, don’t you? Two people meeting, falling in love, and having a grand time. But you know it can’t last.”

  Elijah stood as well and extended his arm to her. “Yes, Violetta’s coughing spell is a giveaway that things will not always be so gay. Shall we make our way to the hallway?”

  She smiled as she placed her hand on his arm and allowed him to lead the way. He continued to discuss the opera. “But right now, for the briefest moment in time, things are grand. Violetta and Alfredo are falling in love, even though he has no money to support her.”

  Elijah led them to the hallway, which was bustling with people and food and drink vendors. “Shall we eat, drink, and be merry ourselves? What’s your pleasure?”

  “I wouldn’t be opposed to a glass of wine.”

  “Wine it is.”

  They queued up in line for their refreshments, and Elijah placed his hand on the small of Pepper’s back in an unconscious gesture. She stiffened at his touch to begin with, before she softened into his hand. The slightly intimate contact warmed him. He wanted more of this. More of her.

  The spell was broken when they got to the head of the line, and Elijah ordered the wine. Her hand returned to his arm as they wove their way around people, stopping to chat when they came across someone they were acquainted with. Then, they moved from the hallway back to the box to await the second act. Elijah noticed Pepper’s mood had darkened from the lightheartedness she’d had in the hallway.

  She turned to him and searched his face. “The second act always makes me cry. Violetta bows to Alfredo’s father’s demands not to see his son. Poor Alfredo’s heart is broken by Violetta, and he can’t understand her change in attitude toward him. Two people, so in love with each other, and family obligations get in the way. I guess it’s been the same story since time began.”

  He noticed she was close to tears and tried to lighten the mood. “Well, speaking from the standpoint of a doctor, I think Violetta is far too healthy-looking to die of consumption in the next hour. Maybe we’ll witness a different ending to the story. Can’t wait for Act Three.”

  She smiled at him, and her eyes cleared. “One can always hope, can’t one?”

  “Act Two starts on a high note, anyway. Violetta and Alfredo are in love, and her health is improving.”

  “But it doesn’t last.”

  “No. And that’s what makes La Traviata such a wonderful opera. It’s my favorite.”

  They settled in to their seats, enjoying the full-bodied wine. Pepper waved at a few people before the lights came down for Act Two. When Violetta refused to leave the party with Alfredo, and he threw his winnings at her, Pepper gasped and placed her hand in Elijah’s, where she kept it for the remainder of the act. The house lights came up at the end of the act, and he noticed the sparkle of tears threatening to escape her eyes.

  She reached for his arm and brushed his sleeve. “This play always affects me so. I apologize.”

  “No need for an apology. Your tears are your way of showing appreciation for the actors. They’re presenting you with a believable play.”

  She removed a handkerchief from her reticule and dabbed at her cheeks. “Yes, that’s it. I’m showing appreciation. Shall we wander into the hallway and get some more refreshments?”

  She was the finest woman in the theater, and Elijah’s stance grew taller as he walked beside her down the hall. His attraction to her had been growing for months, but seeing her outside the confines of the hospital, with her boys in the park, at dinner, and then now at the opera, he realized a friendship with this woman would not be enough. He wanted more evenings with only the two of them. Maybe reading to each other in front of a warm fire as the snow swirled around them outside. And then retiring to a large comfortable bed where they’d warm each other for the remainder of the night.

  Several times during the course of the evening so far, when she’d leaned in to him to whisper a comment about Violetta’s gown, or some particular phrasing of the music, he’d been close enough to inhale her scent, to perhaps kiss her. Her ebony hair had brushed his shoulder, and he wished she would lay her head there. She seemed to enjoy the closeness. Yet he’d held back. If he misinterpreted her actions and made a sp
ectacle of himself, she would cease her work at the hospital and men such as Daniel would suffer because Elijah was a horse’s ass.

  He escorted her back to the booth, and they resumed their seats. He wiggled his chair so it was as close to her as he could get, laid his arm over the back of her chair, and admired her profile. Not only was her face lovely, but when her hair was up and her bodice cut low, her swan-like neck, adorned with sparkling diamonds, took his breath away. She smiled at some people she recognized and waved as everyone returned to their seats. He didn’t break his gaze to see who had caught her attention. He only wanted to see her.

  As the opera concluded, with its deathbed scene between the hero and the much-too-vibrant and well-fed Violetta, and the last strains of Verdi’s masterful music died along with Violetta, Elijah realized he hadn’t seen any of the last part of the play. He’d been busy analyzing his feelings for the woman beside him. The story was familiar to him, so he hoped he could keep up with the conversation if Pepper wanted to discuss the last portion of the opera on the ride back to her house.

  He helped her into their carriage, which was queued up along with a multitude of other conveyances outside the Academy. She settled her voluminous skirts on either side of her, and he took a seat opposite, as they had during the ride over. She had been quiet since the opera ended and only spoke in monosyllables when he asked her any question. As he sat across from her, he noticed she was twisting her hands together and close to tears. She sighed softly.

  The threatening torrent of tears frightened him. His stomach cramped as emotions rolled across her face. Excitement rolled across her face–excitement tinged with sadness, unless he missed his guess.