What a difficult man he was.
She stared into the fire, suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of defeat and sadness.
Why was she sitting here all on her own, feeling sorry for herself? Birdie got up and marched by the sleeping Higgins.
If he wasn’t coming to her, then she would go to him.
Simple, really.
Birdie knocked timidlyon the door of the tower room. It was hard to believe that only several hours ago, the place was swarming with children who’d cheerfully hopped in and out of the room.
Now the closed, heavy oaken door stared at her as if it concealed Blackbeard’s den.
Birdie shifted the lamp to the other hand and pushed down the handle. It wasn’t locked.
The room inside was entirely dark. Not even the fireplace was lit.
“Gabriel?”
No answer.
She lifted her lamp. His bed was empty. She swung the light to the other side. No one there.
Was he on the way down to the dining room? Had they passed each other without noticing?
Confused, Birdie dropped the lamp. Then she saw the shadow on the floor.
In front of the extinct fireplace, a figure huddled, crouched together into a tight ball. His arms covered his head, and he shivered.
“Gabriel! What happened!” Birdie set down the lamp on the table and rushed to him.
Gabriel muttered something unintelligible and shook his head.
She reached out and gently touched his shoulder. He didn’t react. She grabbed him harder and shook his shoulder. “Gabriel. Are you ill?” His hands and forehead seemed hot. But was it fever?
“Gabriel.” She shook his arm. Was he sleeping?
“To the left, not to the right,” he muttered. He looked up, and his face was wet with tears.
“What is to the left? Gabriel?”
“My men. It should’ve been the left.”
“I don’t understand.” Birdie shook her head.
“I told them to hold the right while the others defended the gate. They trusted me. They followed me without question. They shouldn’t have. They held the right, like I told them to. And then…” His body shook with sobs.
“And then?”
“And then the French shelled the house with the entire battery of howitzers they had available. One moment they were there. Then next they were gone. Every single one of them. My entire company. Fifty men. Blown to smithereens. And then a burning beam crashed on me and knocked me out. But I wasn’t granted the mercy of death. Do you understand?” He sat up and there was a wild light in his eye. “I am the only one who survived the massacre after I sent my men to their deaths. And then they gave me this.” He held out his hand, which was clenched around a round piece of metal.
Birdie took it. The Waterloo medal.
Birdie grabbed his hand and pressed it tight. Tears ran down her face. “You told them to do what you believed was right. I’ve never been in a war, but I can imagine one must make decisions on the spot, based on the surrounding facts. You assessed the situation and decided the men were better off defending the right. That doesn’t make you responsible for what happened. You couldn’t have known they’d blow Napoleon’s entire battery right at you.”
“I should’ve known.” Gabriel’s lips were cracked and dry. “It was my job to know.” He leaned his head against her shoulder.
“But you also had superiors? Was it your choice to be there, to begin with?”
