With This Ring Read Online Free Page A

the material must have
served as a wick while she stood by the dead soldier. Her skirt was
stained with blood. Mama is right, she thought, I will never make
it into the better circles, if I do not pay more attention to what
I wear. The absurdity of her situation and Mama’s comment served to
keep her moving through the rows.
    She hesitated to address the shaggy
officer who sat in obvious pain on the soldier’s cot. Apparently he
had not noticed her presence anyway. I could probably turn around
quietly right now, retrace my steps, and wait in the carriage for
Kitty, she reflected. No one would notice me, because no one ever
does. But I cannot. She cleared her throat.
    “ Excuse me, sir,” she said. “The
surgeon over there said I was to relieve you.”
    He said nothing and did not turn
around for so long that she nearly retraced her steps. She repeated
her statement, wondering if she should have addressed him as Lord
Laren. She suspected that even someone with imagination (something
Mama said she did not possess) would have a hard time seeing the
shaggy man with a hunchback as a titled person.
    She was about to leave. Her courage
was draining away as fast as the blood from that poor unfortunate
soldier eight rows over. She decided to try one more time. “Major,
I ….”
    “ I heard you. It just takes me a
moment to turn around. Don’t leave, please.”
    She came closer. Taking great care
of himself, the officer shifted his whole body on the cot, rather
than just his head. “Well, miss?” he asked, his words clipped, his
lips tight.
    She thought for a moment that she
had angered him, and then she realized that he was in pain. It
showed in the tightness around his mouth and the way he squinted at
her, even though the room was fairly well lit. Oh, dear, she
thought as she slowly untied her bonnet and set it aside. I do not
know which of you is worse off.
    She took a deep breath, which was a
mistake in that foul room, and gestured toward the surgeon. “He
said I was to relieve you here, so you could go lie
down.”
    The officer said nothing, but she
knew he was regarding her intently, measuring her. Oh, this is
nothing new, she thought, with a sudden burst of confidence. People
have been measuring me all my life. “The surgeon said that I could
probably hold his hand as well as you can. Sir. Or Lord Laren, or
whatever you choose. You are supposed to lie down now.”
    Again a long pause. “Make me,” he
said at last.
    Lydia sighed. “You are going to be
difficult,” she observed, more to herself than to him.
    “ I usually am. Make me.”
    If I even stop to think about this,
I will never act, she thought. So I will not think about it. “Very
well, sir. Since you are so stubborn,” she said as she sat on his
lap, took the soldier’s hand from his, and held it in her
own.
    She did not know what to expect, but
she did not anticipate the laughter that rose up from the nearby
cots. “Got you, Major!” one of the men said. “She’s out-thought
you, sir!” said another with an arm missing, who sat up to
watch.
    “ Oh, very well,” the major said, and
he did not try to hide the amusement in his voice. “Lads, such an
opportunity, but I will remember that I am an officer and a
gentleman.” The men laughed again as the major patted her hip. When
she rose up in indignation, he moved out from under her. “Very
well, madam, since you are so persistent.” She blushed as he
sniffed her hair close to her ear, his breath warm on her cheek.
“And, by God, you smell better than my stinking soldiers. Sit,
madam, by all means. Hold his hand tight. And then when he’s dead,
you can hold mine.”
    She couldn’t think of a thing to
say, so she was silent. In another moment she was stroking the
dying man’s hand, and then wiping his face with a damp cloth near
his pillow. She felt the cot move, and heard the officer behind her
get to his feet. He staggered against her and put his hand on her
shoulder to steady himself. It