eyes narrowed like a cat’s. “I think you forced him to do it. David has never even mentioned your name! I can’t believe he would marry without telling me unless he had no choice.”
Jocelyn realized that the other woman was jealous of her brother’s attention, but was irritated enough to say acidly, “Perhaps he knew that you would throw a tantrum and preferred a peaceful ceremony.”
She regretted the comment when Sally’s face whitened. More gently she said, “We decided very suddenly, just yesterday. Perhaps there wasn’t time to notify you.”
Sally shook her head miserably. “I was here yesterday afternoon. Why wouldn’t he want me at his wedding?”
Captain Dalton joined them, apparently guessing that the ladies would need a referee. Closing the door with the tip of one crutch, he said without preamble, “Sally, David did it for you. Lady Jocelyn, with your permission, I will explain the situation.”
Relieved, she nodded, and Richard described Jocelyn’s need to marry, and why David had agreed. Sally still looked mutinous. “He had no need to marry for my sake. I can take care of myself perfectly well.”
Richard unobtrusively leaned against the wall, face fatigued. “Sally, it will make David much happier to know that you are provided for. Will you let him have that?”
Sally’s face crumbled and she began to weep. “I’m sorry, Richard. It … it just seems so strange. What right does she have to sweep in like this?”
Jocelyn looked down at the ring David had put on her finger. A simple, well-worn gold signet ring that had to have come from his own hand. Perhaps the only thing of value he owned. It fit rather well. Aching, she said, “I have the right your brother gave me.” Raising her head, she said, “If you will excuse me, I will rejoin my husband.”
As she reentered the sickroom, she saw that Sally was now sobbing against the long-suffering captain’s shoulder. He put an arm around her and smiled wryly at Jocelyn over the bent head. The man had a real talent for dealing with distressed females.
Someone had helped the major lie down again. His face was gray from the effort expended in the last hour, and he looked so fragile that she feared even sitting up again would be the death of him. But as he had promised, he had survived long enough to become her husband.
“It’s time I let you sleep.” She leaned over to kiss him lightly for the last time, then whispered one of the Spanish phrases she had learned, “Vaya con Dios, David.”
“And to you also.” He smiled with a serenity that pierced her heart. “Please be happy in the future, my dear girl.”
Their gazes held for a long, long moment. Once more she ached with desolation at the damnable waste of it all. Gently she laid her small bouquet on his pillow, so he could smell the fragrance of the blossoms.
Barely able to school her expression, she straightened and collected her entourage with a glance. Then she left, not daring to look back.
Go with God, David. And may angels sing you to your rest.
Chapter 4
Sally had regained her composure, but her glance was hostile when her brother’s new wife emerged. Face expressionless as marble, Lady Jocelyn dug into her reticule and removed one of her cards. “Here is my direction. Let me know when … anything changes, or if there is something I can do that will make your brother more comfortable. Blankets, medicines … Perhaps I could hire private nurses for him?”
Reluctantly Sally accepted the card since there would have to be some future dealings with the witch, but she snapped, “David needs nothing from you.”
“As you wish.” After a fond farewell for Richard—Lady Jocelyn was much more pleasant to men than women—she swept away with her retinue.
Sally muttered between clenched teeth, “Slut.”
Unshocked by her language, the captain merely gave a tired smile. “She isn’t, you know. She’s a woman trying to find a solution in a world made by men. In the same circumstances, you might do exactly the same.”
“I doubt it,” Sally said, glad that her ladyship was gone, and good riddance. Noticing Richard’s drained expression, she added, “It’s time you rested. I’m sure you’ve been up much longer than your doctor would approve.”
“I haven’t listened to him yet, why should I start now? But I am ready to lie down.” He regarded her seriously. “Sally, think carefully about what you say to David. He’s pleased about this marriage. Don’t spoil it for him.”
She flushed at the warning. “I suppose I deserve that. Don’t worry, I won’t distress him. I’ll go in now and let him know that I haven’t murdered his lady wife.”
“He’ll be relieved to hear that.” The captain pushed himself forward from the wall and headed down the hall toward his own room.
Schooling her face, Sally entered her brother’s room. David seemed asleep, but his eyes opened when she sat down beside him. “Forgive me, little hedgehog?”
Her heart nearly melted with anguish when he used the old nickname. “Of course I do. It was just such a shock to come here and find a wedding.” She lifted the laudanum bottle. “You must be due for another dose of medicine.”
David accepted the spoonful of laudanum gratefully, then relaxed into the pillows with a weary sigh. “You’re here early today.”
“The children’s godmother came this morning and whisked them off on some expedition, so I was free unexpectedly.” In a voice carefully purged of accusation, she continued, “Why didn’t you tell me you were getting married?”
David smiled with a hint of his old mischief. “Because if I’d told you in advance, you would have given me a lecture on how capable you are of taking care of yourself and said it was quite unnecessary for me to provide for you. Am I right?”
She had to laugh. “You know me too well.”
His voice faded as he slid toward sleep. “I know you’re very capable, but you’re still my little sister. I’m glad to know that you’ll have five hundred a year.”
Five hundred a year! Sally stared at her dozing brother. No one had mentioned how large the annuity was. Whatever else the arrogant Lady Jocelyn might be, it wasn’t stingy. Five hundred pounds was five times Sally’s annual salary, and she was reckoned a very well-paid female. She’d be able to live in considerable comfort, and even some style.
Would she still want to teach? Sally enjoyed her job, and the Launcestons were the best employers she’d ever had. Still, five hundred pounds a year would give her choices. She could travel. Buy a cottage in a village and live a life of leisure.
Freedom at the cost of David’s life. She shook her head, reminding herself that he would die anyway. At least this way, Lady Jocelyn would have five hundred pounds a year less to waste on frivolity.
Taking comfort in the thought, she dug into her shapeless brocade bag for her knitting. After mending all of David’s clothing, she’d gone on to knit four pairs of gloves, three pairs of socks, and two scarves during the hours she sat in the hospital.
