A Lady's Forever Love - Bridget Barton Page 0,23

a teasing tone. “How the village girls will swoon when they see your uniform and how very tall you have grown. You will be the talk of the town and very sought after. Do they call you Officer?”

“Captain, actually,” he said with a smile, hiding the disappointment that came when she talked of the village girls. She was still thinking of him for others, and so she could not be thinking of him for herself. “Major Moorhouse was able to secure a grander title for me. He has been most attentive to my status in society and has seen that I am one of the lucky ones returning from the war. Many are not so fortunate as I.”

“He just gave you a promotion?” she asked quizzically, tilting her head to one side. “Did he take a fancy to you for some reason?”

“Something like that,” he answered.

She threw back her head and laughed. He could almost see the cliffs of Cornwall behind her when she laughed like that. “You are lying to me, Nigel Bateson – Captain Nigel Bateson as it were – and you were never very good at lying. You did that man a good turn once, didn’t you? You’re being coy about it, but I can tell from your face that he has a good and noble reason for wishing to reward you.”

She had guessed correctly, as she always did. Nigel shrugged. “Do not think yourself so very clever,” he said. “I kept him out of a bit of trouble in a battle once, and he was always one to go overboard in his response.”

“Do not let this man dissuade you.” Andrew’s voice came from the opening to the alcove. He had been passing by and must have overheard everything, for there was a slight smile on his face as he looked between Nigel and Margaret. He turned his full attention on the latter. “My lady, I will tell you that this man saved my life in a battle once. He always plays the story down when he is speaking with others. I don’t know if it is false humility or a genuine ignorance of the good turn that he paid me. But either way, I feel it my sworn duty to set the record straight whenever he distorts it. I was down, my horse shot out from underneath me – please, tell me if the tale is too shocking and I shall cease at once – and then a man appeared through the haze, fighting madly to reach my side. I told him to leave, that the enemy would be soon upon us and he would be left stranded away from the regiment. But he refused to listen and wrestled me out from under the beast.”

Andrew leaned in, capturing Margaret with his story. “I was wounded, terribly. I hardly remember some of the details after that, but I know that he had to take an alternative route to safety after stopping to save me. The way back was blocked and he had to bind up my wounds in a little hut before finally sneaking back to our friendly lines with me in tow.

He didn’t need to do what he did, or at least that is what I thought at the time.” Andrew shrugged and winked at Nigel. “Now that I know Captain Bateson better, however, I can tell you that his character would not have allowed him to do differently.”

Margaret had listened to the entire story with wide, quiet eyes. She did not gasp or swoon or proclaim how dreadful the whole thing was as Nigel had heard from other young ladies of the Ton, but when Andrew finished she turned to Nigel and said very soberly, “You were very brave.”

“Don’t you think that bravery is owed a dance?” Andrew lifted his glass with a sly smile.

Nigel shot a fierce glare in the direction of his friend, who was obviously trying to arrange some sort of romantic moment between himself and the lovely Lady Margaret Somerville. If Andrew knew what a presumption such an arrangement would be, he would never have encouraged it. But he didn’t know. Before Nigel could protest or make some excuse, he felt Margaret’s hand on his sleeve.

“I think it deserves at least that much,” she said earnestly.

He followed her dutifully to the dance floor, surprised to hear the strains of a waltz and desperately happy that his friend had taken the time to teach him all the popular dances before this ball.

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