A Flower Among the Reeds #2
The officers continued to watch Jane, their expressions a mixture of admiration and curiosity. They seemed more at ease in her presence than they had been in the camp’s more structured drills.
The camp was a flurry of movement as men trained, officers barked orders, and the steady clatter of boots echoed over the parade ground.
Elizabeth moved through the camp, her mind still swirling from the earlier drills.
The weight of her uniform, the discomfort of the riding lesson, and the sharp scrutiny of the officers felt like a constant pressure on her shoulders.
But it was Jane’s voice that cut through the noise, soft and familiar.
“Thomas,” Jane called from behind her. “May I speak with you for a moment?”
Elizabeth turned, startled, and found Jane standing a few paces away, her basket of supplies in hand. There was a look of gentle concern on Jane’s face as she took in Elizabeth’s stiff posture.
“I thought you might need a break,” Jane said softly, her eyes flicking to the other recruits, some of whom were still standing in formation, watching them.
Elizabeth smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “A break would be welcome. But there is little time for it, I fear.”
Jane’s expression softened. “You are doing well. You know that, do you not?” She glanced around again, her voice lowering. “I can see how hard you’re trying, Thomas. You will find your place here soon enough. Everyone does.”
Elizabeth couldn’t help but feel the weight of Jane’s kindness. It was a relief to hear her words, to have someone who saw past the rough exterior of her disguise. But Jane had no idea what it truly cost her to be Thomas.
“I am not so sure,” Elizabeth replied quietly, her gaze momentarily drifting toward the officers, who were now engaged in conversation. “It is harder than I imagined. There is much to be learned here, and I… I fear I will not be able to keep up.”
Jane stepped closer, lowering her voice further. “You will keep up. You are strong, Thomas. And you are clever…” She hesitated, eyes softening with concern. “But you know you do not have to do this alone, do not you?”
Elizabeth swallowed hard, looking at Jane, seeing the concern in her eyes. It was almost too much to bear. Jane would never understand the weight of her disguise, the secret Elizabeth was keeping from everyone, least of all from the people she cared about most.
“I am afraid it is the only way, Jane,” Elizabeth replied, her voice low but firm. “The only way to protect those I care for.”
Jane nodded, though her brow furrowed slightly, as if there was something she did not fully understand.
“But you are not alone, Thomas. I will be here for you, and William and the others-” She gestured lightly toward the recruits, now heading back to their tents.
“They may be rough around the edges, but they will come around. Do not forget that.”
Elizabeth smiled, though it was tinged with sadness. “I will not forget. Thank you, Jane.”
As Jane turned to leave, she hesitated for a moment, her eyes lingering on Elizabeth. “Stay safe, Thomas,” she said softly. “And if you need anything…”
“I will let you know,” Elizabeth assured her, though the words felt hollow. She knew she could not rely on Jane, not the way Jane thought. There were things she would have to face alone.
As Jane walked away, her figure quickly swallowed by the camp’s bustle, Elizabeth remained rooted to the spot for a moment, her thoughts swirling. But before she could regain her composure, a voice called out from behind her.
“Well, well, Bennet, you have an interesting lady friend,” Lieutenant Marshall remarked, his tone teasing, as he approached with a few of the other officers.
Elizabeth stiffened slightly, but she kept her expression neutral. “I’m not sure I follow, sir.”
Captain Bingley, who had returned from speaking with another recruit, flashed a smile. “The lady with the basket, Bennet. She’s the one who’s been moving through camp like a breeze, making all the men stop and stare. Who is she?”
Elizabeth’s heart quickened, but she managed to keep her voice steady. “She’s my cousin, Miss Jane Bennet.”
The officers exchanged glances, clearly intrigued. Bingley, who had been speaking with one of the recruits, raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Your cousin, eh? Not the usual type we see around here.”
“She is here to help with camp duties,” Elizabeth replied quickly, keeping her tone neutral. “She is not like the others.”
“Oh, I can see that,” Lieutenant Marshall said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’ve never seen anyone move so smoothly through the mess. Doesn’t even look like she belongs here, probably more used to fine manners than marching drills.”
One of the younger officers, Lieutenant Foster, let out a low whistle. “I’d say she’s more used to dinner parties than military life. But she’s got a certain… charm.”
“She’s a charmer, all right,” Lieutenant Marshall chuckled. “Not the rough-and-tumble kind, though. More like the sort you’d see in a drawing room. No doubt she’ll have all the soldiers here talking about her before long.”
Elizabeth’s fists clenched, but she held her ground. “She is not here to entertain anyone. She is just doing her part.”
“Doing her part?” he drawled. “Playing nursemaid to all of us?” Lieutenant Foster smirked. “Maybe she could teach the men a thing or two about proper etiquette while she’s at it.”
“I think she’d be more useful teaching us to march,” Lieutenant Marshall added with a wink. “I doubt she’s the type to march anywhere but in her own house, eh, Bennet?”
Elizabeth felt her face flush with irritation, but she kept her voice steady. “She is not your concern. She is here to help the camp, and that is all.”
“Well, I am sure we can all make use of a lady’s company every now and then,” Lieutenant Marshall said, stretching his neck and glancing at the other officers. “I do not mind a bit of charm in a place like this, even if she is not the usual kind.”
Captain Bingley, who had been watching the conversation unfold, finally stepped in with a light-hearted chuckle. “That is enough, Marshall. Let us not get carried away.”
The officers laughed, but their attention was still clearly on Jane. They were not unkind, but their words had the unmistakable edge of crude teasing, their tone more about objectifying Jane’s presence than truly appreciating her.
Elizabeth glanced over at the group of officers, watching them as they exchanged lewd glances and comments, clearly amused by the spectacle of Jane’s grace in the camp. She felt the weight of the conversation pressing down on her.
“Enough talk, gentlemen,” she said, her voice steely. “There is work to do.”
With a collective chuckle, the officers dispersed, still murmuring about Jane as they went.
Elizabeth stood for a moment, watching them go, her heart pounding with a mixture of frustration and helplessness.
They had not fully realised it, but the way they spoke about her sister, so casually and dismissively, stung more than she cared to admit.
* * *
It was the first evening in quite some time that the officers had joined the ladies at table.
The mess was held beneath a canvas awning, a long board spread with stewed beef, coarse bread, and thin wine.
The fare was plain, yet it lent the gathering a semblance of civility after the rawness of camp life.
Darcy took his place with Captain Bingley, who had been detailed with Miss Bennet.
She sat at his side, composed and serene, her calm presence striking in contrast to the bustle about her.
Further down the table sat Captain Wilmot with his lively wife, Captain Harcourt with his quiet lady, and Captain Lennox, whose household included his wife and his younger sister.
Miss Bingley was also present, dressed as though her endurance of hardship were a noble sacrifice. She wrinkled her nose at the smoke, sighed over the benches, and ate with affected delicacy, her eyes straying often to Darcy.
By contrast, Miss Bennet lent herself to quiet usefulness. She poured wine, offered bread, steadied the dish when the serving-boy faltered. No complaint crossed her lips. She seemed to ease discomfort merely by refusing to indulge it.
Darcy inclined his head when she offered him the platter. She met his gaze only briefly, calm and without pretence. No simper, no flutter, no artifice.
It was enough to remind him of her cousin. Bennet was younger than the others, more slight, more nearly feminine in carriage. The cousin’s presence only sharpened that impression. The answer was plain: family likeness. That must be why the youth lingered in his thoughts. There was no mystery in it.
Yes, that was the explanation. A younger recruit, a cousin among the women, the resemblance between them, nothing more. If he spent more time in the company of ladies, the matter would right itself. The mind merely sought balance after too long in the company of men.
When the meal ended, the ladies withdrew; Darcy remained a moment longer, unsettled. He had resolved to keep Bennet firmly in view, and now the cousin too must be observed. Yet he told himself again that it was only circumstance. Nothing more.
When the ladies rose, Darcy stood as well and gathered his gloves.
Outside, the night had cooled; lanterns guttered along the picket lines.
He crossed to the officers’ tent and drew the map flat beneath his hand.
There would be time enough to think when the posts were set and the watch arranged.
He called for the sentry list and bent to the work.