Page 28 of Always the Chaperone
“It is very cold for the time of year,” he managed before sipping his tea again. The weather. He was talking about the weather?
“Yes,” Charlotte said quietly. “And yet, I think it will be warmer soon. The cold cannot last.”
Silence fell again, save for the ticking of a grandfather clock. William looked at John for help but saw his brother was grinning. This was entertainment for him, though torture for William.
After another ten minutes of awkward conversation, William was almost at a breaking point. Should he just leave? Was there any point in staying if Charlotte was to be so quiet?
John sneezed. As he closed his eyes to blow his nose, Charlotte grinned at William and winked.
William smiled back at her, relief pouring into his heart. Of course, why had he not seen it immediately? It was John’s presence that was preventing her from speaking openly. But surely there was a way…
“Tell me, Lady Charlotte,” he said suddenly. “Did you enjoy our walk back from the Pump Room?”
Their eyes met, and he saw she perfectly understood him.
“I did, even though we did not find Bert.”
William grinned but was prevented from responding by his brother, who said, “Who is Bert?”
Charlotte laughed, and William’s heart leapt as she replied, “It is of no matter.”
“Bert is not a common name,” John persisted, helping himself to another biscuit. “I knew a Bert before. He was in your regiment, wasn’t he, William? A good man. Where is he now?”
William looked down at his hands and felt a shadow pass over him. “He did not return. He is buried somewhere in France, I think.”
Sorrow flittered across Charlotte’s face.
“This is not the appropriate conversation for a lady,” William said hastily. “We should speak about different things.”
“I would like to hear more about it.” She poured herself another cup of tea, perhaps to avoid William’s eyes as she spoke. “More about your time in the army, Your Grace. If you do not mind. What was it like?”
William scrabbled to find the words to describe some of the best and worst times of his life. “I…”
John laughed. “Now, you will not hear a true account from my brother, Lady Charlotte. Better to ask me, one of the true soldiers!”
“True soldiers?” Charlotte repeated. “I do not understand.”
“It is quite simple, my lady,” John said. “My brother was a major. He had all the best food, beds, and places to sleep.”
“You do not have a clue what you are talking about,” snapped William. “You never went into battle, John. Never even saw the enemy! Once you have seen what I have seen, you would not jest about it. You would not claim to be a true soldier. True soldiers were men like Bert, and he was not the only one who did not come home.”
Silence fell once again, but this was not quiet full of anticipation for the next part of the conversation. This was painful.
Damn and blast it.Why had he brought all this up? What was wrong with him? Why would he say things that upset Charlotte and embarrassed John?
William stared into his cup of tea, and when he finally lifted his head, his brother was abashed.
Charlotte had not looked away. “It must feel strange coming back to England after seeing such things.”
He nodded, unable to find the words to respond.
“Almost as though you cannot return to the England you knew,” she continued softly. “That England is gone, and a strange one left in its place.”
William’s mouth fell open. How could she possibly know? “You are not about to tell us that you, too, have seen a battlefield, are you?”
Charlotte laughed and shook her head. “No, but I have lived through serious changes. There is no returning to your old life. No matter how much one may wish it.”
“I have never heard anyone explain it that way before,” William said quietly, “nor that well.”
