The Lost Love of a Soldier: A timeless Historical romance for fans of War and Peace. Jane Lark

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СКАЧАТЬ we take a break once we’re wed, before we travel to Portsmouth? We may find lodgings for a night. It will be our wedding night.”

      His blue eyes shone

      She nodded, the flutter stirring low in her stomach again – desire and disquiet. “It will be Christmas Eve too. There may be poor service at the inns. Do you feel guilty dragging our drivers away from their families?” He looked at her oddly. “Paul…”

      “My apologies. I had completely forgotten about Christmas. My mind has been focused on gathering my men and then coming to fetch you ever since we had the order to sail. I’ve not known it as a time of celebration for years. My family would not expect me to be there, they’ll not miss me. But yours… You will miss your sisters?”

      She nodded, her vision clouding suddenly with tears. The twelve days following Christmas were for feasting and celebration and on the twelfth night, at Pembroke Place, they always held a servants’ ball, when someone would be crowned the Lord of Misrule and order all the entertainments. Ellen and her sisters were allowed to watch for a little while.

      He gripped her into a sharp, hard embrace. “I should not have mentioned them. I–”

      She pulled away. “You need not apologise. It is nice to know you think of what will affect me. I do miss them. I will miss Penny most. I wish I had been able to explain to her. But I do not regret leaving with you. I will be happy with you.”

      His palm rested on her hair. “You can write to your sister, when we’re married.”

      “Yes. What of your family?”

      He laughed, a low deep pitch. “My family are long forgotten.”

      “But you came with them in the summer…”

      “Yes, because I’d returned to England and sought my old self, the privileged sixth son of the Earl of Craster, but I am not that now. I am first a soldier. My family is the army, and my men. Christmas with my family would feel like living in the past.”

      “You are no longer close to them?”

      “As close as it is possible to be when I lead a very different life to them. They will not miss me, and I will not miss them.” His fingers gripped her chin, and then he looked into her eyes. “But you will be my family now, and I will be yours. We will be each other’s comfort and companion. That is what I wish for us.”

      His words sent shivers running across her skin. “Yes, that is what I want too – to make you happy,”

      “And I wish more than anything to make you happy, so we have hope, Ellen.” His head lowered and he kissed her.

      The ache in her stomach swept out to her limbs – yet along with the pleasure of his warmth and gentleness came concern; his gentle hands could kill a man…

      When they pulled into an inn a little while later, having driven into the town of Penrith, Paul moved immediately, letting her go so she could sit up. He climbed out of the carriage in a moment, lowered the step, and then lifted his hand to help her.

      She took it and smiled as he smiled at her. “Let us go in search of refreshment.”

      The cobbles of the courtyard were slippery from the snow, so they walked tentatively. He kept a hold of her hand. It was protective, –the way he had been with her ever since they’d been together.

      She’d never seen her father be even slightly attentive to her mother. She’d only seen her father give orders and her mother obey and defer to his wishes. This side of Paul, the man she had first met in the summer, was precious gold in her eyes. If only there was not also the part of him that frightened her a little – the image of the highwayman lying dead in his blood still hovered in her head.

      Paul ordered cured ham, cheese and freshly baked bread to break their fast, and then asked how many miles they were away from the Scottish border and how long it would take them to get there. The innkeeper implied they could make it by nightfall, if the snow neither melted nor started falling again.

       By nightfall. In hours they might be wed.

      They ate hurriedly, not wishing to delay. But then, watching her closely, looking into her eyes, Paul suggested they walk away from the inn, and a little way up the road, so he could stretch out before having to endure the cramped carriage again.

      His long legged stride made it difficult for her to keep up, especially as the layer of snow caught on the hem of her skirt making her velvet habit heavy as it soaked up the moisture. But she liked the gentle give of the crisp snow beneath her half boots and slid her feet through it. She slipped. Her fingers gripped the firm muscle of his forearm.

      His solidity and security gripped at her heart.

      Oh, but his strength enabled him to kill men.

      Her gaze turned to the picturesque village green on the far side of the road. Its fresh white coat looked beautiful, pure and peaceful.

      “Shall we cross?” Paul asked. “I think it is too late now to make any difference if anyone were to remember us.”

      Ellen nodded, her fingers gripping his arm more firmly, denying her thoughts of the warrior within him.

      “Come then.” He turned and led her over. On the far side his arm dropped from her grip as he bent, then he quickly grasped a hand full of snow, turned, and tossed it at her; a huge smile cutting his face and laughter glimmering in his eyes. Ellen squealed turning away as it hit the side of her bonnet.

      “Oh you brigand!” She laughed. He did too, bending to gather another handful of snow.

      Ellen bent and grasped some too, crushing it in her fingers to make it denser. Then she threw it at him.

      He threw his. It hit her breast. The snow stuck to her cloak.

      The cold, the exercise and the laughter tumbled through her senses in an exhilarating rush.

      He still laughed as he brushed snow from his shoulder and she ran a few steps away then turned and threw another handful at him. It nearly missed him only brushing his ear as he ducked. She bent and filled two hands, as a missile of cold snow hit her back.

      She laughed again, smiling so widely it made her cheeks begin to ache, and lifted both her hands, full of snow. Still laughing she ran at him. He did not try to avoid her ambush as she neared and thrust the snow at his face, he only shut his eyes and his lips.

      She laughed even more as the snow fell away, but then a look of retribution slipped across his face, although his blue eyes glinted with laughter and a smile hovered at the corners of his mouth.

      His smile parting his lips, he gripped her shoulders and tumbled her backwards so she fell onto the snow. He fell with her, on top of her, though he did not crush her.

      All the air left her lungs as her gaze caught his. Laughter no longer lingered in his eyes, but something else shone in them, something deep, warm and heartfelt. Her laughter died too, a moment before his lips pressed to hers. It was unlike any kiss they’d shared in the carriage. They lay on a green before the inn, with several cottages about them. He just pressed his lips over hers for a moment. But the pressure of his lean athletic body, and the knowledge that last night he had killed a man, and that in a few СКАЧАТЬ