Anne Herries - Reunited with the Major

‘You are an angel,’ Brock said, throwing her a kiss with his fingertips as he turned to leave. ‘Once Miss Ross is settled I can go down to visit Cynthia.’

‘Your fiancée?’ Sam’s look was suddenly serious, the smile leaving her eyes. ‘Are you sure she is at home, Brock? I am almost certain I saw her the other evening at a dance I attended. She was with Lord Armstrong and her mother.’

‘Cynthia Langton in town and with Lord Armstrong?’

‘Yes, I believe she has been staying with him and the countess for the past week or more,’ Samantha said. ‘You were not aware of it?’

‘No. I dare say her letter informing me is waiting for me at home. There is a pile of post, but I did not bother to go through it for I wanted to settle Miss Ross’s affairs first.’

‘I am sure their mothers are good friends. It will save you a journey to the country, after all,’ Samantha said with a smile. ‘Now, please, go and fetch Miss Ross. I dare say she is imagining that you have deserted her.’

‘Good grief, yes. I said I should be an hour and I’ve been at least three. Sam, I can never thank you enough,’ he said and left her with another kiss blown from his fingertips.

* * *

Samantha rang the bell for her housekeeper as soon as Brock had gone. She would have been a fool to dwell on the feelings seeing him had stirred in her breast. She’d been so nervous of seeing him, but his manner was that of a casual acquaintance, which was all they were now, she supposed. Oh, but it might have been so different had she not been such a fool.

Shaking her head over her own foolishness, Samantha concentrated on preparing for her visitor. She wanted to have her guest’s room ready for her when she arrived and gave instructions for the best spare chamber to be prepared. Flowers were to be picked from her small but very pretty garden at the rear of the house and arranged in one of the nicest vases; clean towels, linen, soaps and magazines must be placed in the room for Miss Ross’s use. Depending on what size she was, Samantha might be able to lend her one or two dresses until they could purchase some new ones from the seamstress she favoured.

It was always exciting to have visitors, and a young woman in trouble was surely someone she could make a new friend. She would so enjoy taking the girl about with her to discreet parties and private dances, though she was not sure whether Miss Ross was actually out or not. She thought, given her story, it was unlikely that she had been presented to their Majesties, but if it was required Sam might be able to prevail on Mrs Burrell or Lady South to undertake the business.

She would need to consult Brock and Miss Ross herself about her wishes in the matter, but nothing could be wrong in taking the young lady to small card parties and dinners or dances. Samantha had been feeling rather low for the past few months and having her young visitor would cheer her up. Not that she was past the age of wanting to enjoy life herself, for she was but five and twenty.

Her marriage to Percy Scatterby when she was nineteen had been a matter of necessity, for her own father, also a colonel in the army, had died, leaving her alone with barely the wherewithal to pay her rent. She’d struggled on alone for a year and then someone had come to her rescue. Her darling Percy had been a great friend of Papa’s and nearer his age than her own, but he had offered her the protection of his name and she had accepted him. She’d thrown herself into a life of following the army, accepting the often terrible accommodation and learning to live off the land, as other soldiers’ wives did.

Sam had taken to the life as a duck to water. At home in the saddle, capable of cooking a decent meal with the barest ingredients and possessed of a sunny nature that was seldom overset, she had soon had the young subalterns eating out of her hands. They vied with each other for invitations to her dinner parties, when there was food enough to go round, helped her when the conditions were hard and invariably lost their hearts to the Colonel’s lady, while treating her with the same respect that they gave their beloved officer.

It was Brock who had supplied the country house where Percy had spent his last months.

Samantha knew that she would have done anything she could to help Brock. He had been so very kind to her, so thoughtful and generous. Of course she would repay him in any way she could, because he had helped her at a time when her situation had been at its worst. But then, he was a true gentleman, a man whom any woman could admire and trust. Percy had thought the world of him.

Tears stung her eyes as she recalled the day Percy had died as she’d sat holding his hand. He’d looked at her sadly, regret in the grey eyes that had always been filled with wicked laughter.

‘I have not been fair to you, my darling,’ he’d said. ‘You know I always loved you, but I was too old. You were young. You should have had a young husband and children. I have given you nothing.’

‘You gave me four years of happiness,’ she’d told him and bent to kiss his hand. ‘I love you, Percy. I had nothing. You have made me secure for I shall have enough to live quietly in London and that is all I require of life now.’

‘You loved me,’ he’d said in a voice that was no more than a whisper. ‘But not as you would have loved a younger man. No, do not deny it, Samantha. I know I was never quite the lover you needed. You are a passionate woman and you should have had a man twenty years younger who could have matched you.’

‘No, my dearest,’ she’d denied, knowing in her heart it was the truth, yet wanting to ease the regret in his eyes. ‘No man was ever a better husband than you, Percy.’

‘No man could have loved you more,’ he’d said and his fingers pressed hard on hers. ‘Promise me, Sam. Promise me that you won’t grieve for me. You must find someone else, a man who can give you all I could not. I know there is someone you care for, my dear.’

‘Percy, I have been perfectly happy...’ she’d said, but even as she’d spoken the words she knew he’d left her and she’d wept.

Her tears were the more bitter because she believed that she must have hurt him in some way. Surely he had not guessed at those feelings she’d hidden deep in her heart—feelings for Brock, one of his men, that she had never once allowed to show. The realisation that Percy had guessed was painful and made her grieving harder. She had kept up her mourning for more than several months and then only began to go into society gradually. It was Lady Jersey and her great friend Lady Patricia South who had finally dragged her back to the land of the living and made her face up to the future.

These days, she gave discreet, but very popular, dinner parties to which she invited both married and single friends, often including young officers who had served with her husband, and was never alone for very long. At a ball she would gather a crowd of younger men and women about her, though only the very strict would have thought her fast. She was a great rider and was usually to be seen in Rotten Row of a morning, riding a great red horse that looked as if it were far too strong for her and yet responded to her lightest touch. If she began her ride alone, she did not finish it so for there was always an officer or a fashionable gentleman to ride with her.

Samantha cast an approving eye over the chamber prepared for her guest. She could only be glad that Brock had no idea of her continuing feelings for him, because she was sure that his heart was given to another. Indeed, it must be for why else had he asked Cynthia Langton to be his wife? And yet the wedding had not yet been announced...

Chapter Four

‘Stay with a widow?’ The look in Rosemarie’s eyes told Brock that she was not happy with the idea. ‘I do not wish to live quietly and hardly dare to raise my voice. Why will you not advance me a little money on my trinkets and let me go where I please?’