Joanna Maitland – Marrying The Major (страница 5)

‘Sir Edward may have hoped that you would offer for his daughter,’ said Hugo. ‘After all—’

‘I did think of it at one time,’ interrupted Richard, looking slightly embarrassed. ‘But then I met Jamie…’

Hugo nodded. Marriage to Emma Fitzwilliam would have been a business arrangement, a marriage of convenience, whereas Richard’s marriage to Jamie was a union of two souls. Hugo took a deep breath and closed his eyes in sudden pain. He envied Richard his happiness. There was no point in denying that, not to himself. Once, he too might have hoped to marry for love—but now he would never marry at all. Love—and children—were not for him. No woman would have a disfigured cripple—especially one whose honour was as scarred as his body. The best he could hope for would be a comfortable home and kindly servants to wait on him. At least he had wealth enough to secure that, and his own independence. He would make a life for himself, somehow, however much the world might shun him. He would learn to survive alone.

Emma was sure Hugo was watching her from the house, but she refused to turn in her saddle or to increase her pace. He would not be allowed to see how much their meeting had unnerved her.

‘Just a few yards more, Juno,’ she said, stroking her mare’s glossy neck, ‘and we’ll be hidden by the trees. Then we’ll take the shortcut home across the fields. I think we could both do with a good gallop.’

The chestnut’s ears twitched in response, as if she understood.

Emma continued to stroke the mare’s neck absently, allowing the horse to make her own way along the familiar route from Harding to Longacres. There was something niggling in the back of Emma’s mind, a fleeting memory about Hugo Stratton, but she could not catch it. Like a soap bubble in the bath, it floated out of reach every time she tried to grab for it.

‘Oh, fiddlesticks,’ groaned Emma, deliberately swallowing the curse that had risen automatically to her lips. ‘I’ve let him see enough bad manners for one day. I’d better practise being a lady for the rest of it. Once I reach home, at least…’ She dug her heel into Juno’s flank. ‘Come on then, Juno,’ she urged. ‘Let’s show them what you can do.’

The chestnut flew across the grass as though the devil were at her heels. By the time they reached the stable yard, Juno was in a lather—and Emma was gasping for breath. But at least they had lost no more time.

‘Where on earth have you been, Miss Emma?’ cried the grizzled old groom, dashing out of the stables to grab Juno’s bridle. ‘Your father’s worrying fit to burst. He—’

Emma slid from the saddle and stopped the old man’s tirade with an apologetic smile and a touch on his arm. ‘One of the keepers told me Lord Hardinge was back from London—so I called in at the house. It was on my way—more or less,’ she added, hoping she was not blushing. ‘But I stayed too long. Is Papa very worried?’

‘Well—he hasn’t started scouring the woods yet, Miss Emma, though I dare say he might have done, in another hour or so. If only you wouldn’t ride out alone, Miss Emma…’

Emma grinned. ‘Look after Juno for me, please,’ she said. ‘I’d better present myself for inspection, to prove I’m all in one piece.’ Looping the tail of her habit over her arm, Emma hurried up to the house and her father’s study.

‘Emma!’ he cried, the moment she appeared in the doorway.

Emma could hear the note of concern in his voice. Oh, dear. First, she had upset Hugo, and now her father.

She ran to him, wrapped her arms tightly round his neck and kissed his cheek. ‘Forgive me, Papa, for being so thoughtless. I went to visit Richard and…and I’m afraid I lost track of time. I’m sorry you were worried.’

Her father cleared his throat rather loudly. ‘Emma, if you would only take a groom with you, I’d have no cause to worry. Why don’t you—?’

Emma fixed her wide blue gaze on her father’s face. ‘Oh, Papa, must I? Don’t you think I can ride well enough to be trusted out on my own?’

‘It’s not that—and you know it,’ he responded gruffly, removing each of her arms in turn. ‘The very best of riders can be caught out. That includes you, Emma.’

He was right. Even Juno had been spooked on occasion by a strange noise or a sudden movement.

Emma kissed her father a second time. ‘I’ll try to be good, Papa, I promise,’ she said. His answering smile told her she had won him round yet again. He was easily satisfied.

‘Well,’ he said, settling himself back in his favourite chair, ‘tell me about Richard. Is he well? And little Dickon? Did you see Lady Hardinge, too? I dare swear she is worn out, after all that travelling.’

‘They are all very well, Papa. And Dickon has grown so much that you will not recognise him. He is starting to walk, too. Jamie is…’ Emma hesitated. ‘Jamie is…increasing again. The midwife says it will be twins.’ Her words all came out in a rush.

‘Twins?’ echoed Sir Edward. ‘Oh, my… Oh, dear…’

Emma could see that he was thinking back to the loss of his own wife, when Emma was born. Emma sat down beside him and patted his hand. ‘Don’t worry, Papa. Jamie says she’s as strong as a horse. And it’s not as if it’s her first…’ Emma’s voice tailed off once more. What a stupid thing to say, reminding her father that first babies—like Emma—were by far the most dangerous. What was the matter with her today? Her brain seemed to be scrambled.

‘You’ll never guess who is staying at Harding, Papa.’ Emma changed the subject with exaggerated cheerfulness.

Sir Edward smiled a little wanly. ‘Tell me,’ he said.

‘Hugo Stratton. Major Hugo Stratton. Do you remember him?’

Sir Edward nodded. ‘Yes, I do. A Major, eh? Well, I’m not at all surprised. I thought he had the makings of a good officer, even then. Let me see—how many years is it since he joined the colours? Eight?’

‘Nearly eleven, Papa,’ said Emma.

‘Really? Strange that he hasn’t made Colonel, then,’ said Sir Edward, half to himself. ‘Though he’d have to compete with all those fellows buying their promotions, I suppose. There aren’t that many field promotions, even in wartime. And a majority is still something to be proud of.’

‘Papa, I don’t understand. What is wrong with being a Major?’

‘Nothing, my dear, nothing. I’m sure Major Stratton has had a distinguished career. He’s sold out now, I suppose?’

‘I…I don’t know, Papa. He…he has been badly wounded. I’m not sure how, or when. He walks with a limp and has to use a cane. And he…his face is horribly scarred, Papa.’ Her father’s shock was evident. ‘Oh, I’m sure it will look better in time but, at the moment…’

Suddenly, Emma’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh, Papa, I’ve done such a dreadful thing. I didn’t know, you see. And when I saw Hugo, I got such a shock that I…I embarrassed him terribly, staring at his scars. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. And Hugo was insulted. He could hardly bring himself to speak to me. Oh, Papa, I’m so ashamed. What shall I do?’

Sir Edward patted her shoulder consolingly. ‘You must apologise,’ he said quietly.

‘I tried to, but I couldn’t get the words out, not when he was staring me out with those hard grey eyes of his. And now, it’s too late to say anything. That would only make matters worse.’

He offered her his handkerchief. ‘You may be right, my dear.’ He paused to pull at his ear lobe, as he always did when he was worrying about something. ‘Well, if you cannot tell him you are sorry, you must show him, go out of your way to help him to…to come to terms with his injuries. Can you do that, do you think?’

Emma nodded dumbly and wiped her eyes, feeling more ashamed than ever. She never lost control. She had always prided herself on that. And she never allowed herself to cry—especially not in front of her papa. He liked her to be gay, and cheerful, and…and strong-minded. As she would be again.

Even with Major Hugo Stratton.

Chapter Three

‘No. I could not accept.’

Jamie cast an imploring look towards her husband. She had clearly exhausted her own arguments and was desperate for him to intervene.

‘Hugo, please reconsider,’ Richard said seriously. ‘The Fitzwilliams are our oldest friends. They will be very hurt if you refuse.’

‘I have absolutely no intention of providing a raree-show for Miss Fitzwilliam and her dinner guests, Richard. Acceptance is out of the question. Now, if you will excuse me…’ Hugo limped towards the door. ‘My apologies to you, ma’am,’ he said as he opened it, ‘if my refusal creates difficulties for you with your friends. But my mind is made up. I will not attend.’ He closed the door quietly behind him.

‘Oh, dear.’ Jamie’s shoulders had slumped. ‘How will we ever persuade him to return to Society if he will not attend even a small dinner amongst friends?’

Richard shook his head sadly. He hated to see his wife so upset. ‘I don’t know, my love. I really don’t. I’d ask Emma to talk to him—but, after yesterday’s encounter, he seems to wish to avoid her completely.’ He started to pace. ‘I had better ride over to Longacres to warn Emma, though, before she receives Hugo’s note. If she learns of his refusal by letter, we really will be in the suds.’

‘Tell her how hard we tried, Richard,’ said Jamie, a little wearily.