The Regimental Heroes Anthology(8)

 “My brother, Ellis, assists my father the best he is able with the estate. I am sure you know we fought together and he was injured.”

“I heard of the wound to his leg. I am sorry.” They stood and walked a little farther before she asked, “Your family is fortunate. With two sons and you the eldest, there will always be someone to inherit.”

“I’m not interested in the estate. Money is not what I seek.”

A reluctant heir? She had never heard of this, young men were usually anxious to take their place running the family estate. “What do you seek, Clarke?”

“Peace of mind.” He stood and walked to the arbor. He leaned a hand against the wood post and looked out at the pond filled with quacking ducks.

Adeline wasn’t sure what to do. He seemed angry, but more than that, he seemed lost.

 When she moved to stand next to him, she laid a hand on his arm. “I have wondered all these months, tell me your last memories of my brother. I miss him so dearly.”

Clarke looked into her eyes. “He was with me,” he said, barely above a whisper.

 Her heart broke from the look in his eyes. “It was his choice to join. My father knew he was too young, but approved, because of David’s zeal to join the ranks. He was so proud to be the bugler for your and Spencer’s regiment.”

“He was only a child.” He turned to her.

“It is hard not to be bitter. I want someone I can blame for his death. He was taken too young.”

“You have to know the truth. If you need to blame someone, blame me.”

“What?”

“You heard what I said.” Clarke said something else but the words were garbled.



“You don’t know what you’re saying,” she choked out.

He grabbed her arms, desperation etched on his face. “I know exactly what I’m saying. I am the one responsible for his death. Blame me!”

How could this be? She pulled away. He reached for her but Adeline yanked her arms free and ran. She ran back to the house until she thought her lungs would explode from lack of air.

She opened the door and stumbled inside, then ran the distance to her room. Adeline fell face down on the comforter and sobbed.





She wasn’t sure how many hours passed. There were so many unanswered questions running through her head. There must be some mistake, but the look on Clarke’s face told her he wanted her to believe him. To blame him.

She did.

There was a knock on the door. Adeline swung her legs over the edge of the bed and sat up.





“Yes?”

“It’s Amelia. Can Spencer and I come in?”

She wiped her eyes clear and opened the door.

“Clarke came and got us. He was worried about you,” Amelia said as she shut the door behind them.



             “Please, sit.” Spencer motioned to the chair by the window and lit a lamp. “This has gone much too far and I will not allow these untruths to be spread one day longer. Adeline, we have known each other since we were children. Do you trust my word?”

“Of course, Spencer.”

“I want you to speak the truth now, what did Clarke say to you in the garden? He would not tell me.”

Adeline felt a tear slide down her cheek. “He said he was responsible for my brother’s death.”

Spencer sat and dropped his head into his hands. When he looked up, he let out a sigh. Amelia placed a hand over his shoulder and squeezed, her love for her husband evident on her face. “I was afraid that may be what he said. If that is the case, then I am just as responsible as all the men of Warringham who left to fight. We were young and anxious to have our chance at battle. But with that came decisions and responsibilities. None of us were ready for the brutality of war. I have barely just begun to allow myself to speak of it with others.

Clarke’s brother took a saber blow to the leg, but Ellis’ may be an easier wound to heal than Clarke’s. He blames himself for so much, starting with the death of your brother.”

“Tell me what happened.” Adeline braced herself for the story.





Chapter Two





Clarke made sure the hooks and eyes at the neck of his jacket were fastened to stave off the biting October wind. Lord Raglan gave the command as Clarke’s Calvary Brigade Seventeenth Lancers were pressed to defend the Ottoman redoubts against the Russian attack. Adrenaline, combined with the roar of cannon fire, made his heart beat heavy in his chest.

He clasped his thighs against the saddle and waited. He wished all his men had horses; the advantages over an opponent on foot were great. A soldier on horseback had in his favor height, speed, and inertial mass, not to mention the element of fear.