times a day and keep him warm until the fever breaks. It is only teething, but wise to keep him indoors.’
With that in mind, she waited in the rest of the day for Henry to come home. She’d purchased the teething powders and given them to her baby, but she did need to do some shopping for their evening meal. After the weekend, there was nothing much left in the larder to make a meal from.
By six o’clock there was still no sign of her husband so she took Harry into Mrs Oliver next door.
‘The doctor said to keep him indoors. I’d be grateful if you could have him until I get back. I just need to pop out and get a few things.’
Mrs Oliver was a ruddy-faced widow who had given birth to twelve children and would have had more if she’d been able to.
‘Bless you, I’d love to have him. I’d have him for keeps if you’d let me. Now come here, my babby. Let’s see if your Auntie Reenie can get you to sleep.’
Harry went willingly into Mrs Oliver’s arms. She turned to Mary Anne advising her to wrap up warm. ‘Soon be spring though. I see your crocuses are in flower. Lovely they are.’
‘Yes. They are.’
Despite the cold weather, Mary Anne rushed off with her coat half undone, wanting to get the shopping over with as quickly as possible so she could get back to her house, her husband and her son.
The shops would be open as usual until ten o’clock or so. She dashed from one to another, buying vegetables, but more especially a decent piece of steak for Henry’s supper. Itwasn’t often they could afford steak, but tonight was special. At least she wanted it to be special, but her stomach churned with nerves even though she assured herself that Henry loved her. First as last, they were husband and wife. There were also the words of the marriage service – for better or for worse .
CHAPTER NINE
Henry Randall finally got thrown out of the Red Lion when his language and his aggression had gone beyond what the landlord would tolerate.
The moment he saw the bright yellow of the flowers she loved, he wanted to destroy them.
‘Slut! Cow!’
He kicked out at the pot, but the sight and sound of it breaking was not enough to assuage the anger he felt. Not just anger though, he’d gone out of his way to marry her, thinking by doing so he’d outgrow his past. If she’d never told him about Edward Ross – Lieutenant Edward Ross – he could have made the marriage work. As it was the silly mare had only compounded the great wrong he’d done and the wrongs that he and Lewis had done together.
But was it wrong? Was it wrong to love someone despite their gender? It didn’t feel as though it was.
The fact was that soldiers did get to be brothers in arms; they looked out for each other and, in the absence of females, things sometimes went further than that.
He’d now committed himself to marriage. He had become just an ordinary respectable man, no longer the proud warrior he had once been. He could have just about coped with her having been engaged to a fellow soldier and having had a child by him. The worse thing was that Lieutenant Edward Ross had been that soldier, the officer who had shot his beloved Lewis.
The yellow crocus glowed in the gathering twilight even though they were scattered over the flagstones. He let out an angry roar. Soon they were crushed and broken beneath his boots.
He flung open the back door and bellowed her name. There was no response. The kitchen was empty though the smell of something cooking – mutton stew he thought she’d said this morning.
This morning, St Valentine’s Day, he’d given her a card, which was now sitting on the mantelpiece.
Like the crocus, it seemed to mock him. Fancy writing those soppy words for her, citing how pure of heart she was, pure in every way in fact. But she wasn’t pure and not being pure had aroused a terrible demon in him.
He tore the card from the shelf, glancing at it briefly before flinging it into the fire. How could he have been
With that in mind, she waited in the rest of the day for Henry to come home. She’d purchased the teething powders and given them to her baby, but she did need to do some shopping for their evening meal. After the weekend, there was nothing much left in the larder to make a meal from.
By six o’clock there was still no sign of her husband so she took Harry into Mrs Oliver next door.
‘The doctor said to keep him indoors. I’d be grateful if you could have him until I get back. I just need to pop out and get a few things.’
Mrs Oliver was a ruddy-faced widow who had given birth to twelve children and would have had more if she’d been able to.
‘Bless you, I’d love to have him. I’d have him for keeps if you’d let me. Now come here, my babby. Let’s see if your Auntie Reenie can get you to sleep.’
Harry went willingly into Mrs Oliver’s arms. She turned to Mary Anne advising her to wrap up warm. ‘Soon be spring though. I see your crocuses are in flower. Lovely they are.’
‘Yes. They are.’
Despite the cold weather, Mary Anne rushed off with her coat half undone, wanting to get the shopping over with as quickly as possible so she could get back to her house, her husband and her son.
The shops would be open as usual until ten o’clock or so. She dashed from one to another, buying vegetables, but more especially a decent piece of steak for Henry’s supper. Itwasn’t often they could afford steak, but tonight was special. At least she wanted it to be special, but her stomach churned with nerves even though she assured herself that Henry loved her. First as last, they were husband and wife. There were also the words of the marriage service – for better or for worse .
CHAPTER NINE
Henry Randall finally got thrown out of the Red Lion when his language and his aggression had gone beyond what the landlord would tolerate.
The moment he saw the bright yellow of the flowers she loved, he wanted to destroy them.
‘Slut! Cow!’
He kicked out at the pot, but the sight and sound of it breaking was not enough to assuage the anger he felt. Not just anger though, he’d gone out of his way to marry her, thinking by doing so he’d outgrow his past. If she’d never told him about Edward Ross – Lieutenant Edward Ross – he could have made the marriage work. As it was the silly mare had only compounded the great wrong he’d done and the wrongs that he and Lewis had done together.
But was it wrong? Was it wrong to love someone despite their gender? It didn’t feel as though it was.
The fact was that soldiers did get to be brothers in arms; they looked out for each other and, in the absence of females, things sometimes went further than that.
He’d now committed himself to marriage. He had become just an ordinary respectable man, no longer the proud warrior he had once been. He could have just about coped with her having been engaged to a fellow soldier and having had a child by him. The worse thing was that Lieutenant Edward Ross had been that soldier, the officer who had shot his beloved Lewis.
The yellow crocus glowed in the gathering twilight even though they were scattered over the flagstones. He let out an angry roar. Soon they were crushed and broken beneath his boots.
He flung open the back door and bellowed her name. There was no response. The kitchen was empty though the smell of something cooking – mutton stew he thought she’d said this morning.
This morning, St Valentine’s Day, he’d given her a card, which was now sitting on the mantelpiece.
Like the crocus, it seemed to mock him. Fancy writing those soppy words for her, citing how pure of heart she was, pure in every way in fact. But she wasn’t pure and not being pure had aroused a terrible demon in him.
He tore the card from the shelf, glancing at it briefly before flinging it into the fire. How could he have been
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