Elizabeth Bailey - The Captain's Return

He had refused it, and Annabel had murmured a gruff good night and escaped, leaving Janet to see to his needs. After she had heard the maid take herself to bed in the small room adjoining Becky’s, Annabel yet could not sleep.

The unseen presence below stairs seemed to pervade the house, and her wandering thoughts were distressing enough to keep her wakeful. Inevitably, they drifted back to that fateful night at that last fashionable ball…

Without meaning it, her eyes had strayed automatically to every scarlet coat, discarding each broad-shouldered back as she did not find the familiar red-gold hair above it. In the event, Hal had found her instead. A touch on her shoulder, and as she turned, the familiar rush of warmth engulfed her as she encountered his serious gaze.

“I must speak with you alone!”

The low tone was anguished, and Annabel longed to give in. But in honour bound, she protested, her voice equally muted.

“To what avail, Hal?”

“Come with me, Annabel, I beg of you!”

He grasped her arm. Resistless, she allowed herself to be drawn through the motley crowds and out at the French windows. He took her hand, and pulled her across the terrace.

“For heaven’s sake, Hal! If anyone were to see us!”

Hal’s hurrying pace did not waver. “There’s a summerhouse of sorts. We can talk there.”

Her heart was beating like a drum, and Annabel knew she ought to turn back. But so dearly had she longed to see him again that she could not fight the impulse that drove her to match swift steps to his.

Night swallowed them up as the light that spilled on to the terrace fell further behind them. Hal slowed, guiding her silently across the grass. A shadow loomed ahead, and Annabel found herself stepping up into an arboured place, of circular structure, lit only by the stars and a splatter of moonlight thrusting through a patterned fretwork to lie unevenly upon the flagged floor.

Breathless, and not altogether from the chase, Annabel felt herself released. She shifted away from the large silhouette that was her discarded love, her pulses in riot. She broke into shaky speech.

“Why have you brought me here? There is nothing to be said between us, Hal. It is finished.”

She could hear his uneven breath, and knew that his tempestuous nature was aroused.

“Yes, so you said a week ago. I was too upset, too angry to think then, Annabel. But I’ve had time enough since. You acted under your father’s commands, I know it.”

“Under his guidance,” she corrected. “How could I marry you when he is so much opposed to it?”

“Even when his opposition is dictated by unreasoning obstinacy?”

Her eyes were growing accustomed to the dark, and Hal’s big frame was becoming more visible. His nearness was torture to her. Yet she must adhere to that resolve that had driven her to reject him.

“Hal, we have had all this out. I am his only child. It is natural that he should wish a better future for me than—”

“Than is to be had with a younger son who has only just acquired a captaincy,” he finished bitterly. “Don’t tell me it again, for I don’t believe it! Mr Howes knows well that I am a full-pay officer with a promising future.”

“He will not have me follow the drum, Hal.”

“If you don’t care for that, why should he?”

“If Papa had forbidden me, or had treated me badly over this, I would not have hesitated,” she uttered, low-voiced. “He has tried instead to overcome his scruples—”

“Scruples!” burst from Hal. “His unreasoning prejudice rather.”

“Nothing of the sort. I assure you, he tried to hide his disappointment from me, but I could see his unhappiness. It was that which has been my undoing.”

“Emotional blackmail!” scoffed Hal.

“Don’t say that! How dare you say that? Papa would never use me so. He allowed our betrothal. It is I who chose to break it off. How can you abuse him?”

Hal gave a laugh in which bitterness sounded. “With ease, Annabel. My darling, he is using your affection for him, don’t you see? He may have given his consent against his will, but he gave it! And you have allowed him to twist you away from your own heart.”

“Oh, stop!” cried Annabel, thrusting away as far as the small space would allow. “This is all so useless! Why can you not see how you hurt me with this persistence?”

“And what of my hurt, Annabel? I love you!”

Her heart twisted. “Don’t, Hal!”

He moved swiftly, catching at her shoulders and pulling her to face him. “I must! Annabel, there is so little time. I can’t leave England, knowing that you care for me, only to be tortured every moment by the thought of you marrying someone else.”

Annabel tried to drag away. “Let me go! Can’t you see that you are pulling me in half? Hal, this is so unfair! Do you think it cost me nothing to reach that decision? I love you too, but—”

“That’s all I wanted to hear!” he said gutturally.

Next instant, Annabel found herself jerked against his broad chest as his mouth sought hers. Warmth flooded her, and for a moment she clung to him, answering the hunger of his lips with a desire as fervid as his own.

But the image of Papa’s distressing upset thrust rudely into her mind. She wrenched back, the force of her motion breaking his hold.

“You must not! Hal, for heaven’s sake, let me be! I cannot marry you. I cannot!”

He did not pursue her as she backed away, but his ragged breath gave her audible evidence of his unabated passion. It had the opposite effect to the one she ought to experience. She could feel her limbs trembling, and a desperate yearning opened up in those hollows that she knew to be most vulnerable to his need.

“You belong with me, Annabel. This is ruining both our lives, and you know it. And for what? For the ravings of an obstinate devil, who is so eaten up with prejudice that he sacrifices the happiness of his own daughter!”

Annabel flew at him then, her hands curled into fists. She tried to hit at him, raging.

“Be silent! Beast! Brute! How I hate you!”

He had caught her wrists, holding them fast.

“Wildcat! Stop it!”

But Annabel was crying with rage, and her protests became the more vehement. She knew not what she said, only that she wanted to kill him for hurting her so…

How it had happened, Annabel had never afterwards been able to recall. Even now, wakeful in her bed, all this time later. But she had found herself lying upon the flagged stone of the summerhouse, in a tangle of legs and panting breath, with the man who slept tonight in the room below.

And when Hal, coming for an instant to his senses, would have stopped it, Annabel was guiltily aware that she had been the one so lost in love and desire who had plunged them back into that total consummation.

Only afterwards, as she lay in his arms, her mind hazy with fulfilment, had the enormity of the proceeding gradually seeped into her consciousness.

Hal had cursed himself with a will. But Annabel, horrified by the realisation of what had happened, had begged him to go and alert her coachman that she might make a hurried and unseen exit from the ball.

He had done as she wished, and by the time he had returned, Annabel had been too overwrought to listen to anything he may have said. She could remember nothing of his words, although she knew that he had addressed her in tones of earnest agitation as he had escorted her to the coach.

What she did remember was the tearful confession she had poured into Papa’s ears. He had been distressed, but not angry—not then. But he had hustled her out of town that very night, and into the country. A tale had been put about by the lady who was sponsoring her that she had been taken suddenly ill, but Annabel had no means of knowing whether it had been believed.