“It may be best if we leave you to rest,” Lady Georgiana interjected.
Ethan ignored her; his eyes bore into Flo’s. “You saw me in that alley. I will tell you what put me there.”
She stared back, unable to gainsay him.
“I can only do this once. Be my courage.”
She nodded then and gave his fingers a gentle squeeze.
His eyes never left hers, though surely his message was meant for the two men listening avidly behind her. “What do you know of Badajoz?”
Behind her Georgie gasped; Flo searched her mind. “It was a great victory bought at great cost.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, and she thought he had withdrawn from them again, but she heard him murmur, “More than you can imagine, and it wasn’t the first.”
“You don’t have to do this, Ethan,” she whispered.
“Exactly right,” his father said. “The things you remember are not fit for ladies, I’ll warrant, in any case, son.”
The grip on her hand didn’t weaken. She replied to the marquess without taking her gaze from his son. “Sometimes, shame is harder to recount than horrid memories.”
“My son is no coward!” The old man’s words, wrenched from his soul, echoed off the walls.
His fears, no doubt.“Yes. I think not,” she agreed out loud. “There are other reasons for shame.” Ethan’s eyes blinked open, filled with surprise at her insight and yet the bleakness she saw there almost made her faint. His gentle press to her fingers kept her steady.
“After the surrender,” he began, but he choked on his words.
War can strip off the veneer of civilization…The memory of Georgie’s words flooded Flo’s mind with horrific images. “The troops wouldn’t stop at surrender,” she guessed. After a long silence she added, “You tried to stop it.”
His brows shot up and he growled. “Don’t give me credit. Not at first. I burned and destroyed with the enlisted men.” He turned to the wall, and his voice dropped to a dull rasp. “We gave everything and the damned city… They wouldn’t surrender, and we were enraged by the dead on the walls, enraged…”
She heard a sob behind her. The marquess.
Ethan turned back to her suddenly. “I came to my senses. I did, but not soon enough.” His eyes flitted over her shoulder toward his father and back to Flo “So much shame overwhelmed me that I stripped off my tunic, my insignias of rank. I threw it all down.”
That at least explains how he came to be on the boat among the common soldiers.
“What happened next, Ethan?” his brother asked.
Ethan’s gaze stayed on Flo’s. “I started back to camp. I had no coat, no gun, no sword. I—” He swallowed deeply. “I came upon an officer—a major no less—and a mob in an alcove. They— She—” He took a shuddering breath. “I had to stop them. I tried, I tried, I—” His gaze came into focus as if just realizing who held his hand. He couldn’t go on.
“Enough!” The marquess said. “My son needs to rest.”
Flo gave into impulse and leaned in to kiss Ethan’s forehead. “Be well, my lord,” she said. Still leaning over him she whispered, “Whatever happened, you can’t fix it now, but you can help the other veterans. You can, but not as a starving wretch.”
She turned to leave, but had no words for the two grieving men behind her beyond a whispered, “Thank you.”
As she got to the door, she heard one more thing from the man on the bed. “It wasn’t a French saber.” She turned to see him raising the arm without a hand. “Not a French saber,” he repeated.
Our own men turned on him!Buzzing filled her ears.
CHAPTER7
Two days after Flora’s visit, Ethan received Chadbourn from a chair in the sickroom when Edmund accompanied him up.
“Goodness, Ethan. You look like a changed man.” Will sounded confident, but Ethan didn’t miss the concern in his eyes.
“Food and warmth.” Ethan attempted a smile; the unfamiliar sensation made it brief.
