“Arthur… could be irresponsible at times.”
Luke nodded. Still—blast and damn—the care of his wife and unborn child wasn’t something a man neglected. “I have the necessary paperwork for you to complete in my bag. And you’ll require your marriage certificate. The payments will be delayed, but... You shouldn’t have any difficulties.”
Although, the military could be leery of claims such as hers. Since the deceased officer wasn’t there to contest or confirm it, they would go over her paperwork with all due diligence.
She lifted her gaze and stared at him, her eyes looking stormier than usual. He struggled not to lose himself in them, especially when the depths conveyed such innocent faith.
She trusted him.
“Thank you—for telling me and for everything else. But, of course, I know I can’t keep you here forever. Surely you have other business to attend to. Those sisters of yours likely are ready to string me up for keeping you from them so long.” Naomi didn’t sound happy about his departure, though.
“I can wait, and my sisters can wait a little longer as well, I’m sure.”
“And your brother? Won’t he be upset?”
At the thought of Blackheart, Luke merely shook his head. “That’s somewhat more complicated.”
“Why? You know so much about my problems and I know nothing of yours. Do you not get along well with your brother?” she asked gently.
Emotion tightened his chest. “We get along too well. Which is part of the trouble. He’s just been so damn proud of my service. And I…”
She sat quietly. He’d not discussed this with anyone. It was shameful, really. And yet these missions increasingly erodedsomething deep inside, leaving what he could only imagine to be a black void.
Apprehension warred with the dishonor of resigning.
“Blackheart sent me to Oxford, but schooling wasn’t for me. So I quit. After I returned home in disgrace, my brother and I decided I should enter service to the church. I was miserable at it and quickly learned I couldn’t… I just couldn’t. Fortunately, or unfortunately, however one cares to look at it, the bishop agreed.”
She squeezed his hand.
“So Blackheart purchased my commission. And in less than six years, I’ve experienced considerable success.”
“You are young for a major. I remember Arthur telling me that.”
“Blackheart jokes that I’ll be the first general in our line.” Luke’s heart squeezed tight. Would she regard him as a coward?
“You don’t want to continue fighting.”
Her words sounded so simple, and yet the act of resigning his position would be frustratingly complicated. “Six men died over the course of my last mission. Six men lost under my watch. It’s senseless.” Luke explained that with each advance, he was coming to realize they weren’t fighting to protect England or righting wrongs, but they wereoccupiers. The missions had nothing to do with good vs. evil. They were necessary to expand the kingdom. Expand and then subdue leftover resistance to “open up trade.”
Luke had followed every order he’d been given.
“An officer isn’t supposed to question the cause,” he finished.
He squeezed his eyes shut, hating that he was telling her this but somehow unable to keep himself from doing so.
She squeezed his hand again. “For as long as there are men, there will be wars.”
“Cockfields aren’t quitters,” he continued, “or cowards.” He came from a long line of gentlemen who’d made a difference in the world. And yet even his own father had joked that Luke would end up like his mother’s younger brother, a man who lived the indolent lifestyle of a dandy.
Luke didn’t know how many more killings he could participate in before nothing good remained in him. Military men accepted their losses and moved on. Those who didn’t were considered weak.
Accepting human losses was something he’d failed at from the beginning.
“You intend to resign?”
“I want to, but I haven’t decided yet. It’s why I’m in no hurry to travel to Crescent Park.” He glanced up, bracing himself for the disappointment he would surely see.
She was staring at him, and since they were sitting so close to one another, he could see both the cobalt and silver flecks in her eyes. The disdain he expected was noticeably absent.
