A Soldier’s Heart(26)
The rest of the letter was hers alone: regret they couldn’t be together for their first holiday; delight at receiving the chrysanthemum petals, which he kept close to his heart. These passages fed the feelings Blackwood had inspired in her heart since the first time she looked into his dark eyes.
That the messenger was able to get through from London heralded the clearing of the roads. Aunt Lavinia prepared for her leave-taking by closeting herself with Serena in the small parlor. From the hard glaze in the huge blue eyes, Serena feared a scolding was at hand.
“You’ve done so brilliantly! How could you fail to be increasing?” her aunt fretted, the owl eyes blinking rapidly. “I’d so hoped you’d be setting up Blackwood’s nursery. I know how pleased Charlesworth’s family was when I produced dear Frederick within the first two years of our marriage. Really, Serena, you must understand how important it is to secure the succession.”
As much as her aunt’s harsh words hurt, Serena refused to give in to the uncharitable retort that dear Frederick was a disgraceful rip who’d been sent down from Oxford more times than Serena could recall. Besides that, his mother only kept his antics under control through the dire threat of cutting off his allowance. She couldn’t imagine Their Graces being pleased if she produced such an offspring to add to their old and noble line.
Instead she forced a smile. “Aunt Lavinia, you know Blackwood and I had only one night together before he was called away. When he returns we shall have ample time to think of such matters.”
“Serena, you are as unworldly as your father after all!” Stretching her eyes as wide as possible, which was a frightening sight indeed, Aunt Lavinia leaned closer. “Have you forgotten men are killing one another in that dreadful war! Blackwood may never return, and you have failed to produce his heir!”
Fear such as she’d never known gripped her heart. Blackwood’s letters were so full of the glory and the honor of war, she hadn’t really looked beyond the idealistic words. Aunt Lavinia was right for once!
To think she’d been fretting Blackwood might be disappointed to find her slightly changed when there was every chance they might never be able to fully explore their feelings for one another. For the first time Blackwood’s passages concerning his men’s valor and bravery took on their true meaning. These men were fighting for their lives despite any glorious protestations.
Immediately upon her aunt’s rather protracted leave-taking, Serena pleaded a headache and retired to her bedchamber. The letter she penned to Blackwood this night was the truest to her heart. That he might notice the change in her didn’t seem a whit important now compared to her need for him to know her feelings. How could she have remained so naive?
Suddenly the reports, sketchy as they were, and Longford’s discussions with his father, took on a deeper significance. At last she recognized their fear for Blackwood was greater than she’d imagined, for it was based on fact. She spent hours poring over maps, trying to trace her husband’s movements during the past year.
Her constant fear for him colored all her actions. Within a fortnight of her aunt’s departure she left for the Landing, anxious to oversee the spring planting and the changes in the gardens she had so lovingly designed.
The Reverend and Mrs. Morton were only too willing to assist her more charitable designs. Many of the villagers had lost a man to the war. Serena felt they should receive extra help from the estate. She trusted the reverend to devise a scheme so that even the severely wounded could still have a useful place.
She proposed a school for the younger children, thinking of Polly, and offered a stipend for anyone who could teach letters and basic mathematics. Mrs. Morton suggested a notice be posted in the village.
The vicar’s wife had also brought a list of special needs, including a Mrs. Watley, a widow, who had just learned her twin sons had been killed at the Battle of Orthez. Her small farm had been given to a family man, and she had nowhere to go and little to support herself with. Serena assured Mrs. Morton she would think of something quickly and have Stockton see to it.
Convinced that Blackwood would be proud of these accomplishments, she departed for York for a brief visit with her papa and Buckle with a slightly lighter heart.
When she arrived back in London to prepare for Cecily’s Season, the seemingly endless trips to the modistes and milliners on Bond Street kept her occupied, but always her thoughts were with Blackwood. This time last year she had first looked up into those mesmerizing dark eyes and lost her heart.
News of Napoleon’s abdication on April 6 must have flown across the Channel, as Cecily phrased it. There was much rejoicing in London. The duke insisted on coming down for a celebratory dinner, for surely his son would be returning forthwith.