by Bree Wolf
“How could she?”
Ellie sighed and for a moment closed her eyes. When the musicians began to play a lively country tune, drowning out the next pitying remark, she felt herself relax. Watching the couples take their positions, she once more glanced across the room.
This time, a number of gentlemen crowded around Frederick, their faces eager and laughing as they chatted, occasionally turning to the returned war hero in hopes of new stories to repeat for years to come. Ellie had seen it before. Men who returned from the war were often hounded by those who had remained behind as they eagerly sought sensational anecdotes to enrich their otherwise uneventful lives. They were like blood hounds, which had caught the scent of their prey.
Ellie shivered, thinking about the insensitivity people often displayed. Could they not imagine the pain that their thoughtless remarks caused? Had nothing painful ever happened to them?
As her eyes returned to Frederick, she found the marquess by his side. Seeing the strained expression on his brother’s face, Leopold stepped forward, arm sweeping to the side, holding back the men that sought his brother’s attention, and ushered Frederick through the crowd. Oliver spoke up then, and the heads turned back to him as he drew their interest with an entertaining story. Soon, the men were laughing, allowing Frederick to escape.
Ellie smiled, relieved to find that he was not alone in his pain. Maybe one day, he would be able to smile again, the same heart-felt smile she remembered from so long ago.
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