Susanna Fraser (5 page)

“I will, sir,” she said, with meekness unusual for her, and the little procession began moving again.

When they reached Farlow’s tent, Elijah carried Rose inside and got her safely tucked into the lieutenant’s narrow cot, with Jake curled against her, weary but determinedly awake. By the time they’d settled her belongings in a corner and agreed that Elijah and Farlow would sleep just outside, Luisa had fetched her pot of salve. She ruthlessly drove the men from her tent, pleading her patient’s modesty, and Elijah and the lieutenant obediently took their bedrolls and departed.

* * *

The burn hurt far worse than Rose had admitted to Lieutenant Farlow, but she hadn’t wanted to draw attention to herself, most especially not to her burned leg. The pain hadn’t ebbed—it had been all she could do not to whimper the entire time Elijah was carrying her to the tent. She didn’t want to frighten Jake any more than he already was, but now she couldn’t stop slow tears from leaking down her face.

He sat up beside her, frowning in childish worry, and patted her cheeks. “What’s wrong, Mama?”

It was all she could do not to laugh hysterically. What wasn’t wrong? Her husband was dead, the closest thing to a home she possessed had been burned around her, her ankle and shin stung as if she’d stepped into a beehive, and above all she wasn’t safe and now she knew it. Luisa’s lie wasn’t going to be enough to deflect all suspicion. She couldn’t take Jake and the rubies and go home to England, not anymore.

Fortunately Luisa spoke for her. “She has a burn,
querido.
They hurt very much.”

Jake nodded, accepting this.

“Now, you go to Elijah and wait with him,” Luisa continued. “Then you may come back to our tent with me and spend the night with Fernando...what is left of it.”

“May I, Mama?”

“Yes, dear heart.” It would be a relief, to be spared worry about her son for a few hours. She might even dare to ask Lieutenant Farlow if he had any spirits tucked away in one of his trunks. If she got drunk enough, maybe she could sleep away the worst of the pain.

“Will their tent burn, too?” he asked, his big eyes wide with fear.

“No,” Luisa said firmly. “Your tent burned because a bad man set fire to it, and he’s tied up under guard now. He cannot hurt you again.”

“Oh,” Jake said. He nodded and smiled, satisfied. Rose shook her head. What kind of world was she bringing her son up in? He jumped down from the cot and ran for the tent entrance. Both women waited until they heard his high child’s voice answered by Elijah and Lieutenant Farlow’s deeper adult rumbles, friendly and reassuring.

“Now, let me see,” Luisa said, gently turning up the burned part of Rose’s skirt. “Not as bad as I feared.”

“It hurts like the devil,” Rose said, wiping her eyes.

“Of course it does. It is fire, no? But this will make you feel better.” She opened the little clay pot she’d brought with her and began gently rubbing the salve onto the burns.

Whatever it was—and Rose could pick out the smells of honey and lavender—it did feel cooling and soothing. The pain began to fade to something more like an ordinary cooking burn and less like a horde of stinging bees. “That does help. Thank you.”

Luisa shrugged as she began wrapping a loose bandage over the leg. “
De nada.
”

“There’s something else I should show you,” Rose said, lowering her voice to a whisper. Since Luisa had boldly stepped into the breach to claim her coral rosary was the treasure Yonge had come to steal, it was only fair she knew the truth. Rose twitched her skirt and petticoat higher, above her knee.

Luisa’s eyes went wide. “
Madre de Dios.
”

“Why did you say it was the rosary, when you didn’t even know there was anything?”

Luisa tied the bandage in place, then leaned in for a closer view. “No, I knew there was
something
to set Lewis talking. So I thought, he said red, and my beads are red. I will trick them, and perhaps there will be less trouble.”

Rose reached out to clasp Luisa’s hand. “How can I ever repay you? I owe you too much already.”

“Nonsense,” she murmured briskly. “We are friends. No need to pay. Besides—” She stared at the rubies for one moment more, then tugged Rose’s skirts down to hide them away again. “I do not know if it will be enough.”

Rose shook her head sadly. She’d already thought of that. It might be enough to keep the officers from looking into the matter, but some of the soldiers would still suspect, especially if she declared her intent to go home. “If I’m to keep this safe, I need to marry again.”

“But then it will belong to your husband.”

“I know. I must choose someone I trust completely, and someone strong enough to protect me and Jake.”

“Do you know who that may be?”

Rose lowered her voice to an even softer whisper and glanced at the tent entrance. “The only one I truly trust is Elijah. If he’ll have me.”

Luisa followed her gaze and shrugged. “If? Why would he not? He likes you, I think.”

“Oh, I know he does.” Rose flushed, remembering the kiss. It seemed so long ago already. “But I hadn’t planned to marry again. Because of this necklace, I thought I could go home, and have enough to hire good care for Jake while I got work. I was going to be a cook in a fine house or have my own inn. And Elijah
knows
that’s what I wanted, because I told him so when he gave me the necklace. Asking him to marry me after that will be a little...uncomfortable.”

Luisa’s eyes widened again. “Yes. But you will manage. Does it bother you, that he is a Negro?”

Luisa was always blunt. Rose had never made up her mind if it was because her friend’s English was less than perfect or if it was her natural personality and equally present in her native tongue. “I worry a little about being stared at,” she admitted. “And it makes me feel...strange, somehow, to think of what my children might look like. I don’t think I would’ve thought of marrying Elijah if all this had happened three years ago. But—he is handsome, isn’t he? Especially when he smiles.”

Luisa grinned. “And
big
, too.”

This, from the woman who’d married one of the shortest men in the company and seemed entirely happy with her choice. “Luisa!” Rose protested, then winced as a fresh lance of pain shot through her foot.

“I should go and let you sleep. I will come again in the morning.”

“Thank you. And, ah—could you ask Lieutenant Farlow if he might have anything that might dull the pain?”

Luisa promised, and a few minutes later the lieutenant appeared and produced not whiskey or port, but laudanum. Rose eyed the little tumbler of brown liquid warily.

“Don’t worry, it’s a very small dose,” he said. “Only enough to dull the pain and help you rest.”

“How do you know how much to give?” she asked.

“Family experience,” he said with a sad smile. “My father resorted to it, in his last illness. I believe he found it comforting. Trust me, Mrs. Merrifield. A dose or two won’t harm you, and I don’t intend to allow you more.”

She submitted and found that it worked as promised, dulling the pain of body and soul enough that she soon fell into a fitful sleep. Dawn came all too soon, and with it the time to march. Luisa returned, bringing Jake and Fernando, and with her help Lieutenant Farlow and Elijah got Rose’s belongings neatly packed, then bundled her and Jake into a baggage wagon. Luisa and Fernando joined them.

Mercifully, Luisa saw her weariness and what remained of her laudanum-induced haze and did not try to talk much, instead busying herself keeping the boys amused. When Rose was awake and alert enough to think, she considered what she must do. The sooner she settled matters with Elijah the better. How could she make a marriage born of necessity sound like something worth entering into? And what if he said no?

Chapter Five

After a long day’s march, Elijah only wanted to seek out Rose and see how she fared, but instead he found himself summoned to testify at Yonge’s court-martial. Regimental justice was swift and severe, and in this case there was no doubt the accused was guilty. Colonel Dryhurst pronounced a sentence of two hundred lashes, to be carried out the next day, though in reality Elijah knew the punishment would be perhaps half that. The regiment’s surgeon always stood by during a flogging, and when he decreed the prisoner had had enough, the lashes stopped.

“I don’t like flogging,” Lieutenant Farlow commented as he and Elijah left together. “Other armies don’t have it, and it seems a blot on our honor that we haven’t found a better way.”

“I don’t, either,” Elijah admitted. “It’s treating soldiers too much like slaves. But in this case...it’s more merciful than what I’d do to him, if I had the chance.”

“And what is that?”

“Fling him into a fire to see how it feels.”

Farlow raised an eyebrow. “Bloodthirsty, for you.”

“He could’ve killed Rose and Jake.”

“Yes...and as soon as he’s fit for duty, he’ll be back in the company. You’ll have to avoid killing him.”

Elijah spoke through gritted teeth. “I’ll manage. I always do.”

“Are you certain you don’t want to court Rose? You’re very protective of her.”

“I’m certain she doesn’t want to marry
me.
”

“Have it your way.” Farlow shrugged and headed for the tent where the officers were dining.

At last Elijah could look for Rose. He found her outside the Whelans’ tent, seated on a rock with her bandaged foot propped on a rolled-up blanket, calling out instructions to Luisa, who stood at their campfire, stirring something into a pot.

“No, no, not
that
much salt.” Rose shook her head in exasperation. “Now you’ll need to add more water, or it won’t be fit to eat.”

“Hullo, Rose,” Elijah said. He nodded a greeting to Jemmy, Luisa and the two little boys. “You’re feeling better, I hope.”

“I am,” she said, “and I need to ask something of you, if I may.”

“Yes, please,” Luisa said. “Take her away before she drives me mad, trying to cook with her mouth when she cannot use her hands.”

“If you’d only listen, and taste,” Rose began, then shook her head and looked up at Elijah. “Can we go over there?” She nodded toward the edge of camp. “I can hobble along for a little distance, with this.” She indicated a sturdy walking stick braced in her lap.

“Of course.” He helped her to her feet and hovered at her side, ready to carry her again should she stumble or falter, but she managed, taking his arm again only to lower herself to sit on another stone. He sank to the ground beside her.

“What do you need?” he asked when she did not immediately speak.

“I—” She bit her lip, closed her eyes and then opened them, wide and gray and imploring. “I don’t know the right way to say this but—will you marry me?”

His heart pounded. If not for what she’d said last night, this would be a dream come true. But it wasn’t
her
dream, so he couldn’t let it be his. “Marry you?” His voice rose in disbelief. “But—I thought you didn’t want to marry anyone, at least not now.”

“I didn’t, but—even with what Luisa did, people are going to keep coming after me, with these rumors of a treasure, and even if I left for home, I wouldn’t be safe. You’re almost the only one I trust.” Her words tumbled out in such haste Elijah couldn’t get a reply in edgewise. “I know it’s not right. You deserve better, a woman who loves you, but I—I do like you, ever so much, and I’d try to be a good wife to you. Luisa thinks my leg will be almost healed in a week, and—”

He held up a hand. “Rose. Don’t worry. I’ll marry you.” She was right. She wasn’t safe now, and what else could he do
but
be her protector? He couldn’t fulfill his promise to Sam that he’d give the rubies to her, only to walk away and let them be her shackles instead of the price of her freedom. It might be a sad mockery of a marriage, but he cared too much for her to deny her what she needed.

She blinked in astonishment. “You will?”

“Yes. Don’t worry,” he hastened to assure her, “I know it’s not what you wanted. We can make—what would Lieutenant Farlow call it?—a
marriage of convenience.
Once the war is over and we’re back in England with that thing safely sold—” he flicked a glance at the spot on her leg where the necklace lay hidden, “—we’ll go our separate ways, and you can do as you like and marry someone you fancy better someday.”

He’d meant to make her smile, but her face stayed solemn. “That’s not how marriages of convenience work. They’re as permanent as any other kind.”

“For the quality, they are. But for us, if we go back to England, and you go to your village, present yourself as the widow you are and buy your inn, who’s to know, or care, if there’s more to the tale than that?”

She cocked her head to one side, considering this. “Anyone in this regiment, for a start. Probably all the Light Division. You’re
memorable
, Elijah.”

His mouth twisted. “I know. But that’s all the more reason for no one to be surprised if you walk away from me, once you have what you need.”

“Is that what you want?” She stared at him, her eyes wide and anxious.

Why did she look so baffled and sad, when he’d meant to ease her mind? She couldn’t possibly want a true marriage with anyone, especially not with him. “I want to do what it takes to keep you and Jake safe,” he said. “Because I promised Sam, and because you...you’re my friend. I can’t stand by and watch you be prey for men like Yonge.”

She nodded. “I see. Very well. And—thank you, Elijah.”

* * *

Rose’s first wedding had been a hurried business too, but at least they’d had the banns called, forcing her and Sam to wait a whole fortnight plus a few days more after her hasty decision to accept his offer of marriage as the best choice she had left.

Her wedding to Elijah took place the second morning after her widowhood, in the tent of a chaplain she’d never met before. The army had but few chaplains, and as she spoke her vows, leaning on her rough cane, Rose wondered how Elijah had found him. Being married by a proper Church of England chaplain gave their marriage an air of permanence it wouldn’t have had if they’d gone to a local priest, Protestants that they were. Surely Elijah hadn’t thought of that, or he wouldn’t have chosen this man, who, baffled though he appeared at the idea of marrying such an oddly assorted couple, was putting them through the exact same proper service she’d had the first time.

She still didn’t know what to make of this “marriage of convenience” notion. It wasn’t that she wanted to marry again so soon, not when she still expected to see Sam everywhere she looked and waking up without him curled up next to her each morning still brought a fresh ache. But she couldn’t say these words, couldn’t promise to
keep only unto him
,
so long as ye both shall live
, only to walk away from Elijah as soon as they were safely back in England, and perhaps stand beside some other man and say the same words yet again. She couldn’t do it. If he didn’t want her, she could leave him, but she couldn’t marry anyone else.

Picturing such a long, lonely life stretched out before her made her throat ache. She might live fifty more years. She’d have Jake to raise and love, but he’d grow up, make his own way in the world, and find some woman to marry, as was right and fitting. Where would she, Rose, be then?

She didn’t understand. She knew Elijah desired her—it had been clear from that kiss. If he was the sort that thought of marriage as a burden, she didn’t think he’d be willing to take on even a temporary commitment with such heavy responsibility for her and Jake, not while denying himself the pleasures of the bedroll. Was there someone else? Did he not want to marry a white woman? And could she change his mind?