Chapter X
Charlotte, her heart racing and her face flushed, put down the letter and searched frantically for the next. She dug through the opened sheets that lay scattered across the desk, looking for another unopened envelope.
‘Where are the others? Is this all?’
There was none. This was the last.
His last was dated June, six months ago. Lady Catherine would not have known the contents, or that he had promised to write again. Why had he not written again?
The first thought in her mind was not of remembered passions or of future romance but of a desperate need to know where and how he was.
Since February, Charlotte had lived with a strict discipline, locking away thoughts of Fitzwilliam.
At first, they came often and painfully, but she buried them, busying herself until the thoughts came less frequently and with less pain.
The apparent lack of contact from him was helpful.
It was exactly what she had expected and what she’d told herself she wanted.
Any disappointment she felt, she dismissed as foolishness.
Of course he would not write to you, she had thought, on the rare occasions she allowed her mind to drift into such territory.
He is at war, and you broke with him with absolute certainty.
With what hope might he have written after such a parting?
But he had. He had found some hope for her. He had found enough hope to write again and again, with no encouragement and no reciprocation. And then, he had stopped. Why?
She reasoned that if he were injured, he would most likely have been staying with Lady Catherine; she would have at least been informed and would surely have told Charlotte in her letter.
But if he were still in Spain, and alive, he would have written again.
Or would he? He had received no reply from her, no encouragement.
Was it so hard to believe that he would grow tired of a one-sided correspondence with much greater concerns all around him?
If it were any other man, she would believe it – but in her heart, she could not believe it of him.
She wanted to act; to run, to push, to shake the answer from someone – but the only powers she had were to enquire and to wait. It all felt hopelessly slow.
Taking the only action she could think of, she grasped the latest – as yet unread – copy of The Morning Chronicle, lying on the desk. She turned the pages feverishly until she reached the casualty listings.
It was not the first time she’d scanned the listings, eyes searching and fearing to find his name.
But, as with every time before this, it was absent.
Neither was it in the reports of battle.
The last engagement he had mentioned in his letter was back in June.
When she thought of what her life was then, it seemed a world away.
Was it June that her sister got engaged, or July?
She thought of that hot day at Lucas Lodge, her father’s delight, Maria’s shyness.
In thinking of her father, a thought was sparked.
She stood and, grabbing a shawl, walked briskly to the door.
‘Copies of what?’ asked her father, amiable but baffled by her sudden arrival.
‘Copies of The Gazette – you keep them, do you not?’
‘Yes, mostly. But why?’
‘Please may I see them?’ Charlotte did not ask but demanded, already marching to his study. He followed her meekly to find her looking around the room agitatedly.
With raised eyebrows, Sir William Lucas crossed the room and took out a large pile of papers from a cupboard.
Snatching them up, Charlotte riffled through the pages with a frantic, almost feverish urgency, until her hands found a copy dated 28 June. But in the reports from Spain and the casualty lists, there was no mention of his name. She took up the next – 30 June. Again, no mention.
Her father, a little confused and wary of her mood, left the room, suspecting and rather hoping that his task was done.
She repeated the process with copies from July.
Vitoria dominated the stories until she found a copy where San Sebastián was mentioned.
A defeat on 25th July. Might he have been there?
It seemed possible. She scanned the lists – no mention.
She continued on with speed until, finding a copy issued 20th September, her eyes alighted on an article of interest.
A letter from Lieutenant General Sir Graham Thompson to the Marquess of Wellington:
I have the satisfaction to report to your lordship that the castle of San Sebastián has surrendered.
And I have the honour to transmit the capitulation which, under all the circumstances of the case, I trust your lordship will think I did right to grant a garrison which certainly made a very gallant defence.
Charlotte skimmed the rest of the article then, turning to the casualty list, scanned her now-practised eyes down the page.
All at once, the urgent energy that had sustained her so vigorously left her.
Return of Killed, Wounded and Missing of the Army serving under the Command of His Excellency Field-Marshal the Marquess of Wellington, K.G., in the Siege of the Castle of San Sebastián
From the 1st to the 8th September 1813:
1st Royal Scots – 1 captain killed; 1 rank and file wounded
Royal Artillery – 1 lieutenant, 2 rank and file wounded
38th Foot, 1st Batt. – 3 rank and file wounded
59th Foot, 2d Batt. – 1 rank and file killed, 1 rank and file wounded.
47th Foot, 3rd Batt. 1 rank and file wounded.
Name of officer killed:
1st Royal Scot – Captain James Stewart
Wounded:
Royal Artillery – Lieutenant Hugh Morgan, severely
4th Division – Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, severely
And there, Charlotte’s eyes closed.