Chapter 4
Chapter Four
SOMERSET AND THE LADY
The morning after the storm dawned clear and bright, the tempest having been swept away by its own fierce winds.
Richard had finally wrestled the pile of papers on his desk to manageable proportions and was due some time to himself.
He decided, once again, to attempt the walk to Somerset.
Since his first aborted journey there some two weeks before, he had been kept fully occupied at his tasks and had not had time to explore the village in any depth.
Thus, after breaking his fast at the mess and pulling on stout—and dry—boots, he began the three-mile walk down the narrow lane.
He had covered about half that distance when there, ahead of him once more, he spotted Miss Barrow picking her way along the path. He called out her name, and when she turned, he was pleased to see a welcoming smile upon her face.
“Lieutenant Colonel,” she called to him with a friendly wave.
How different was this meeting from their first encounter along this path.
Now that she was no longer holding herself distant from him, her voice was rich and engaging.
She might be a singer or an actress with that voice, although to make such a suggestion would be of insult to the lady, he was certain.
She was a colonel’s daughter, after all.
“I was walking towards Somerset,” she explained. “Are you going that way as well?”
“Indeed, I am, Miss Barrow. I have begged a half day’s leave and wish to discover more of the town. May I walk with you? I trust your ankle is fully healed.”
“Thank you, it is quite better now. I would enjoy the company.” Over the last two weeks she had clearly decided that he was no threat to her, which pleased Richard more than he could explain.
She waited for him to reach her, and they walked together.
Now that they were outside of the confines of the fort, he learned she had a quick stride for a lady, and Richard hardly had to slow his steps to match her pace.
“Is this your first time to Somerset?” she asked after they had gone a few more yards.
“Aye, so it is, the first time at leisure, at any rate. I made a brief stop when Major Johns rowed me about the area shortly after I arrived, and have been twice since as part of my duties, but I have not rambled through the town. Johns pointed out the principal shops, but I have seen little enough of anything else. I was hoping to wander freely today, to discover the village on my own. I had also intended a visit to the tavern after my explorations, to see where the men gather after their duties are up for the day.”
Her eyes clouded over for a moment. “Aye, and where they spend their wages at cards!” Her voice betrayed her distaste. She was very much her father’s daughter.
“Foolish, foolish activity,” Richard echoed. “I would hope to see more sense amongst the men I must command.”
“I fear you have not made many friends with such opinions.”
“No. When I broke up the games last night, I had never seen such hostility in my men’s faces.
Nevertheless, I must be true to my principles and follow my colonel’s orders.
I am happy enough to join in a friendly game of cards, or even play for pennies, but where large sums of money are involved, it is quite insupportable.
It is the foolhardiness that I cannot abide, more than the activity itself, I believe.
Perhaps I should see this tavern to satisfy my wish to stay clear of it.
However, I do wish to learn my way around the village.
There must be some entertainment there that does not revolve around a deck of cards… or a pair of dice!”
Or the arms of a barmaid, once the lamps were doused, but it would not do to voice such thoughts.
This was another vice Richard had little time for.
He had enjoyed liaisons with willing widows in his time, but to pay…
to cavort in a filthy, flea-ridden cot, to risk all manner of pox…
No, not for him! But he kept quiet and stared ahead.
“If you wish for a tour…” Miss Barrow cast her eyes at him in question, and he had to shake his head to realise she did not mean a tour of the cots above the tavern. A tour of the village was a far better offer.
He accepted with pleasure. “I should be delighted, Miss Barrow. You can show me where to go and where to avoid, for which I would be most appreciative.”
She gave him a rather pretty smile and continued walking beside him.
Richard was now tasked with the most pleasant duty of making conversation.
There lay before them a half-hour walk until they reached the village, and it would never do to remain silent in such company and on this fine a day.
Fortunately, his was a garrulous nature and little effort was needed.
They had engaged in short discussions before, perhaps ten minutes or a quarter hour.
This was to be a much longer walk, time enough to learn something of his new friend.
“How long have you lived in these isles?” he asked as they reached a picturesque little bridge between two close islets.
He offered his gloved hand to assist her across, as the surface was rough.
She took it out of politeness but relinquished it as they reached the other side.
She had surely crossed it a thousand times in the past. She had little need of his assistance.
“Father has been stationed here for the past five years, since before all this new work began,” she replied, gathering her skirts to step over a muddy patch.
“It was only a small garrison then, before the establishment of the large dockyard. We have travelled with him for much of my life, and I have lived in a great many places. This is one of my favourites. It is only when the hurricanes come that I long for some safe, landlocked stone house in the middle of England and far from any shore, but the fort is sturdy, and we will never come to harm in it. Last night, we hardly noticed the storm. But otherwise, this place is delightful. I hope you will learn to love it too.”
“You must have been very young when you arrived.”
She laughed at him. “You are not very subtle, Lieutenant Colonel! You wish to know my age. I shall own it. I am six-and-twenty, and yes, I am set to be an old maid. I have no fear of it. I shall be quite content to pass my days with the company of my choice in my own little establishment. Father is not wealthy, but he has set aside enough for me to have a modest independence, if I do not expect too much.”
She spoke with a candour and lack of embarrassment that pleased him. She was not one of those ladies of the Ton whose every word held too many layers of meaning, none of them sincere. There was no flirtatiousness, no flattery, no double meanings. She spoke what she thought and meant what she said.
“And I admire you for it,” Richard supplied. “I, too, shall one day have to live upon what little fortune I can amass.”
“Then we are birds of a feather,” Miss Barrow answered, and again, for a moment, Richard glimpsed in his imagination the glorious beauty and cruel negligence of Miss Ingalls, who had somehow become associated with exotic birds in his mind. The notion disturbed him, and he pushed it away.
“You must have a variety of interests, Miss Barrow, to amuse you whilst you live out your life in your independence.”
“I believe I could spend my life with my books and be very happy, sir.”
“And what do you enjoy reading?”
She gave a pleasant chuckle and replied, “Almost anything! I have had the fortune to have travelled extensively with my father, and do believe that were I not a woman, or if there were different laws, I might take up a commission myself so as to see more of the world. But I enjoy reading of others’ journeys and so can content myself with their accounts of where they have been and what they have seen. ”
The lane now turned sharply along the shoreline and then rose up a hill. Miss Barrow was surely intimately acquainted with the topography, but Richard nonetheless offered his arm and began to lead her up the incline, which she, once more, accepted without complaint.
“I also enjoy reading of natural history and science, and of course I ought not to admit this, but I do like a good novel! A refined gentleman such as yourself, though, surely never reads such common material as that!”
It was Richard’s turn to laugh. “Indeed not, madam, or at least, I should never admit it aloud. But if I can trust you to keep a secret, I must confess that I do enjoy a good novel myself. You must never tell my men, or they will never respect me. Perhaps, at your leisure, we may meet to discuss what we have read and compare our thoughts on any books we have in common. And have you interests other than reading?”
“I should like very much to live in a place with a musical life. I am an indifferent performer on the pianoforte, but I do love the time spent at that instrument. We have a spinet in our apartments, and some of the other officers have a musical ear and at times, play for us. On occasion, Mama hosts a musical evening. I shall advise her to invite you, should you be interested. Do you play anything, Lieutenant Colonel?”
Richard emitted a slight snort. “This promotion was well appreciated, but I do dislike being called ‘Lieutenant Colonel’ every two minutes by one I would have as a friend. It takes longer to say than I take issuing my orders. Perhaps, since we are far from the strictures of London, you might call me Fitzwilliam, or better, Richard. I would like that.”
She bobbed her head as a sort of curtsey whilst they walked. “I am honoured, Richard. My name is Emily.”
“Emily.” He spoke the name out loud, and she beamed at him.