Read Online The Sergeant's Lady by Susanna Fraser - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Susanna Fraser
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soldier.
He stared past her. “Mrs. Arrington, ma’am,” he said with the air of a rehearsed speech, “I owe you an apology for my behavior last night. I took advantage of you. I’m ashamed of it, and it won’t happen again.”
“Don’t apologize,” she blurted. How could he be the one apologizing when it was her fault? Their eyes met, and she swallowed hard. She’d never seen more beautiful eyes on a man, so golden and intent.
He narrowed them. “But I kissed you. I had no right—”
Her gaze dropped to his lips. “I kissed you back,” she murmured, then wished the words unsaid. He must realize she had hardly been a passive recipient of his attentions, but she cursed her wayward tongue for acknowledging it so openly.
His parade-ground posture relaxed a trifle, and he was recognizably her Sergeant Atkins again. She released the breath she hadn’t meant to hold. But he shook his head. “We can’t let it happen again.”
She closed her eyes. “I know.” She looked at him again and forced herself to speak in a level voice. “But do not insult me by apologizing for something that was as much my doing as yours. I wish it hadn’t happened, because I wanted you for my friend on this journey, and now—” she spread her hands, “—it’s impossible. I’m sorry.”
He smiled, achingly wistful. “If I’m not allowed to apologize, neither are you.”
“That wasn’t an apology. That was regret.”
“Oh.” Abruptly his eyes widened, his nostrils flared slightly, and he turned stiff and correct again. “Lieutenant Montmorency.”
Anna whirled around to discover the young officer watching them from no more than four feet away, his expression hovering between accusation and bewilderment.
“Has Sergeant Atkins been disturbing you, ma’am?” he asked.
Anna thought quickly. What explanation could she give for the inappropriate familiarity that had doubtless been obvious to this interloper? “Not at all, Lieutenant,” she said. “He only asked me if I could think of anything to make the journey easier for Juana, since it is so soon after her confinement.” She turned back to Sergeant Atkins and tried to infuse her voice with both the warmth of friendship and the coolness of superior rank. “And I shall be glad to do anything I can.”
Something flickered in his eyes—amusement? Admiration? “Thank you, ma’am. You’re very kind.”
“Very well, then. Sergeant, Lieutenant, I bid you good morning.” She walked slowly toward her donkey, her head held high, her mind in a whirl.
***
Will and Lieutenant Montmorency studied each other for a moment. “Sir?” Will asked as the silence began to stretch into something uncomfortable.
Montmorency looked down his nose at him—an impressive feat, since they were much of a height. “Do not bother Mrs. Arrington again,” he said. “She shouldn’t feel obliged to concern herself with the welfare of camp followers.”
“Very well, sir.” He couldn’t speak to her again in any case, after what had passed between them.
“Aren’t you with vanguard again today, Sergeant?”
“Yes, sir.”
Will saluted and headed toward his post. As he walked, he removed his hat, pulled off his stock—damned itchy choking thing—and undid the top few buttons of his jacket. There. He’d said his piece. Now he just had to ignore her all the way to Lisbon. Somehow. He prayed for good weather, smooth roads, anything to shorten the journey. The sooner she was on a ship bound for England, the better for both of them.
“There you are,” Dan said when he reached the head of the column. The vanguard was assembled, ready to march, and two riflemen had been sent ahead to scout their path and warn them of any obstacles blocking the road.
He raised his eyebrows at the censure in Dan’s voice. “Was I missing?”
“Not this morning, no.” They fell in together as the column began its march. Dan lowered his voice, too low for anyone else to hear above the
He stared past her. “Mrs. Arrington, ma’am,” he said with the air of a rehearsed speech, “I owe you an apology for my behavior last night. I took advantage of you. I’m ashamed of it, and it won’t happen again.”
“Don’t apologize,” she blurted. How could he be the one apologizing when it was her fault? Their eyes met, and she swallowed hard. She’d never seen more beautiful eyes on a man, so golden and intent.
He narrowed them. “But I kissed you. I had no right—”
Her gaze dropped to his lips. “I kissed you back,” she murmured, then wished the words unsaid. He must realize she had hardly been a passive recipient of his attentions, but she cursed her wayward tongue for acknowledging it so openly.
His parade-ground posture relaxed a trifle, and he was recognizably her Sergeant Atkins again. She released the breath she hadn’t meant to hold. But he shook his head. “We can’t let it happen again.”
She closed her eyes. “I know.” She looked at him again and forced herself to speak in a level voice. “But do not insult me by apologizing for something that was as much my doing as yours. I wish it hadn’t happened, because I wanted you for my friend on this journey, and now—” she spread her hands, “—it’s impossible. I’m sorry.”
He smiled, achingly wistful. “If I’m not allowed to apologize, neither are you.”
“That wasn’t an apology. That was regret.”
“Oh.” Abruptly his eyes widened, his nostrils flared slightly, and he turned stiff and correct again. “Lieutenant Montmorency.”
Anna whirled around to discover the young officer watching them from no more than four feet away, his expression hovering between accusation and bewilderment.
“Has Sergeant Atkins been disturbing you, ma’am?” he asked.
Anna thought quickly. What explanation could she give for the inappropriate familiarity that had doubtless been obvious to this interloper? “Not at all, Lieutenant,” she said. “He only asked me if I could think of anything to make the journey easier for Juana, since it is so soon after her confinement.” She turned back to Sergeant Atkins and tried to infuse her voice with both the warmth of friendship and the coolness of superior rank. “And I shall be glad to do anything I can.”
Something flickered in his eyes—amusement? Admiration? “Thank you, ma’am. You’re very kind.”
“Very well, then. Sergeant, Lieutenant, I bid you good morning.” She walked slowly toward her donkey, her head held high, her mind in a whirl.
***
Will and Lieutenant Montmorency studied each other for a moment. “Sir?” Will asked as the silence began to stretch into something uncomfortable.
Montmorency looked down his nose at him—an impressive feat, since they were much of a height. “Do not bother Mrs. Arrington again,” he said. “She shouldn’t feel obliged to concern herself with the welfare of camp followers.”
“Very well, sir.” He couldn’t speak to her again in any case, after what had passed between them.
“Aren’t you with vanguard again today, Sergeant?”
“Yes, sir.”
Will saluted and headed toward his post. As he walked, he removed his hat, pulled off his stock—damned itchy choking thing—and undid the top few buttons of his jacket. There. He’d said his piece. Now he just had to ignore her all the way to Lisbon. Somehow. He prayed for good weather, smooth roads, anything to shorten the journey. The sooner she was on a ship bound for England, the better for both of them.
“There you are,” Dan said when he reached the head of the column. The vanguard was assembled, ready to march, and two riflemen had been sent ahead to scout their path and warn them of any obstacles blocking the road.
He raised his eyebrows at the censure in Dan’s voice. “Was I missing?”
“Not this morning, no.” They fell in together as the column began its march. Dan lowered his voice, too low for anyone else to hear above the
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