She must see him. Tell him she still didn’t understand why he left her, but she hadn’t meant to say all she did. It was the pain and fear that caused her to lash out so. She’d felt so safe, so content in his arms. To be ripped from them once again was more than she could bear.
She had to confront him with all that lay between them: all the misunderstandings and misconceptions, all the words they should have said but had never spoken to one another.
Buckle’s sweet calmness was their salvation as Longford drove them relentlessly to the coast, where the yacht waited to cross the Channel to Belgium.
They arrived at Lady Charlesworth’s in the early hours of a warm June morning. The entire household went into an uproar.
After promising to send Matt as soon as he found him, Longford practically dumped them on the doorstep with all their luggage and left to go to allied headquarters. The butler, a very superior little man, appeared scandalized, but the three women were so exhausted, they couldn’t have cared less.
“All I wish for is a bed,” Cecily moaned, closing her eyes, leaning against Buckle’s shoulder.
“And that you shall have,” Buckle promised in the tone Serena vaguely remembered from the nursery.
By the time a maid roused Aunt Lavinia from her slumber, Buckle had them settled in a small parlor and went to the kitchen to fetch hot chocolate herself.
“You’re here!” Aunt Lavinia gasped, her owl eyes slitted in weighed fatigue. “Who brought you? Surely Mrs. Buckle wasn’t your only chaperon,” she demanded, falling into a chair.
Mrs. Buckle promptly placed a cup in her limp hands.
“Drink this, Lady Charlesworth. It should restore you. The Marquess of Longford escorted us here.”
“Longford here, too! Is he also to be my houseguest?”
Although fatigue was making her so dull that every time she blinked, her lids opened increasingly slower, Serena forced her eyes wide to confront her aunt.
“I assumed your kind offer that there was always room for me was heartfelt. And would surely extend to my family.”
“Serena, you sound like your sainted papa,” Aunt Lavinia yawned, pushing herself to her feet. “Of course you’re all welcome. Longford, too, if he chooses. For a rental, the house is snug. You and Cecily can have the two rooms across from mine. Mrs. Buckle will take the room allocated for the governess. Should I call a footman to carry the child?”
Shaking her head, Serena nudged Cecily awake. She opened her eyes, and allowed Serena and Buckle to help her to stand, swaying with fatigue between them.
“Best get her to bed,” Aunt Lavinia commanded. “I suggest you all get some rest. You shall want to look your best for the Duchess of Richmond’s ball tonight. Everyone who’s anyone shall be in attendance.”
Matt would be there. If Longford didn’t bring him sooner, Serena would see him at the ball. Perhaps he could explain to her so she could understand why he continued this thing that had caused him so much pain and loss. And in turn she would tell him what she’d never said aloud before.
That thought kept her going, making her exhausted slumber sweeter with dreams.
With Buckle’s help, they left for the Duchess of Richmond’s ball confident they looked their best, Cecily in a demure white gown with a deep ruffle at the hem, and Serena in her favorite cornflower blue with matching ribbons threaded through her curls.
The duchess greeted them warmly at her rented house in the Rue de la Blanchisserie. “It seems all of the ton is in Brussels. For this Season, soldiers are the fashion.”
Soldiers. Their striking red jackets and gold epaulets stood out starkly in the ground-floor ballroom hung with the royal colors of crimson, gold, and black.
Even though Aunt Lavina swiftly made her way through the throng, Serena, with Cecily at her side, moved slowly, her gaze searching for just one dark-haired soldier with deep, unfathomable eyes.
Finally taking a position near a pillar wreathed in ribbons, bows, and flowers, Serena had an excellent view of the wide, rectangular doors so she could miss none who entered.
The wail of the bagpipes filled the room as the Highlanders performed the fling. Something in the mournful quality of the pipes brought such sadness, Serena had to swallow back a lump in her throat.
Then the musicians in the gallery above broke into his music an instant before Wellington himself appeared and the Duchess of Richmond quickly crossed the floor to greet him.
Serena’s heartbeat was so loud and painful, she had to take deep, even breaths to calm it. Where was Matt? She must see him! There was something in the very air that demanded desperate action. It was like a wild summer storm brewing all around them. She could feel its power, but was powerless herself to stop whatever might come.