Page 7 of Until I’m Safe in Your Arms

“You are enjoying your stay here at Caxton Park so far, Miss Washer?” Not a stunning conversational gambit to open with, but Alex didn’t wish for a silent walk. If he really had it in mind to court and marry Miss Washer in such a short time, he needed to find out as much about her as possible, and quickly.

“I am, Captain. Everyone has been extraordinarily kind to me. Lord and Lady Caxton, especially.” The lady smiled broadly, bringing out a small dimple in her left cheek he hadn’t noticed before. “I’m not used to all the hubbub of crowds, and was a bit reticent at dinner last evening, but they’ve made certain I’ve been well taken care of and made to feel welcome.”

“They are two of the dearest people, I must say.” Alex smiled in return, still entranced by the memory of that dimple. “I was often a guest here when my uncle was still a bachelor. He’s very serious about maintaining the family connection. After my father died, my uncle insisted my mother and I come here for our mourning period, so we could all condole together. He said since I was then his heir, it was only right for me to feel as though Caxton Park was my home.”

Alex nodded to the vista before them. He did think of it as his home. The parkland they were walking through gave way to a magnificent stand of oak trees about a mile to their left. To the right, on the other side of the manor house, lay a large pond ringed with bracken and cattails that boasted a bounty of fish, stocked by his uncle every year. They had fished there many a time together. His uncle’s hospitality had always been generous to a fault.

“You must be very dear to him indeed.” The lady walked in silence beside him for a moment. “Do you reside here all the time?”

“Hardly at all, I fear. My duties to queen and country keep me from it for much of the year.” Alex shook his head. As his uncle was growing older, he wished he could stay at Caxton Park more often. “I do get some time here and there, like this house party, and a few days at Christmas, but recently I’ve been quartered in London, awaiting the next posting for the regiment.”

Miss Washer gripped his arm then relaxed. “Her Majesty’s Army does such important work. I am always grateful for their presence around the world, keeping us all safe.” She peered up at him. “Will you miss it very much when you have to resign your commission?”

Alex stopped dead.

Miss Washer turned to him, her face bewildered. “What is wrong, Captain?”

“Why ever would you think I would resign my commission, Miss Washer?” Appalled, Alex could only stare at the woman, as shocked as though she had grown two heads. Never had he even considered leaving the army.

“When you inherit your uncle’s title, won’t you be expected to resign?” The lady looked totally confused. “I’ve known of several officers who did so.”

With a chuckle, Alex relaxed and resumed their stroll. “Yes, you are correct in that. Most gentlemen who inherit do resign their commissions as their duties then shift from protecting the country to being part of the country we protect. In my case, however, I don’t believe I shall be my uncle’s heir for very much longer.”

“Why not?”

About to open his mouth to explain the circumstances, Alex caught himself. He certainly could not divulge the secret his uncle and aunt had entrusted to him. Especially as such a topic could not be broached with an innocent young lady such as Miss Washer. But he could give her a hint. “My uncle is newly married. When he announced his intention to wed last year, I naturally assumed that I would eventually be superseded by his own offspring.”

“I see.” She walked on, a thoughtful look on her face. “Are you sorry you may not inherit the title?”

“On the contrary.” Alex laughed and patted her hand. “I am completely relieved. I never expected to inherit the Caxton title and am truly thankful it likely will pass me by. When I bought my commission, I knew my true calling was the army. There is nothing I love better than being part of the regiment. Giving my all for queen and country is the best sort of life I believe I can live. The sense of honor I get when I think of fulfilling that sacred duty is beyond compare.” The magnitude of the moment stole Alex’s breath. He’d always been passionate about serving his country. The depths of his passion, however, always surprised him. “I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do with my life.”

“Such dedication to service makes you well suited to that life then.” Miss Washer’s approval gave Alex a moment of pride. “It’s good to enjoy what you do for a living.”

“That is certainly true. I’ve known some gentlemen who entered professions to which they were ill-suited, thinking only of the substantial wages they would earn.” Alex shook his head. Poor rotters. “They never found much happiness in life that I saw.”

This conversation needed to shift directions if he was to discover more about Miss Washer. “But we are taking too serious a turn, I think. Here we are at the folly and I insist we find a better topic.”

Giggling, Miss Washer released his arm and ran up the steps of the small round edifice. “Then you must tell me about the folly. I haven’t seen one at all here.” She entered the building, gazed up at the rounded roof, turned in a circle. “Hello!” Delighted with the slight echo, she laughed again and called out louder, “Helloooo!”

Enjoying the charming sight, Alex stood back, watching her play.

A bevy of doves that had been roosting in the structure took flight, flapping frantically until they winged out of the folly. Alex feared they might have startled Miss Washer, but she continued to laugh and explore the small building. “When was the folly constructed?”

“In the 18th Century.” Alex mounted the four steps to stand at the building’s entrance. “It was erected by Capability Brown. You’ve heard of him?”

She shook her head and adjusted her silk shawl over her shoulders, as though the marble walls had given off a slight chill. “Was he very famous?”

“Yes, he was. Many people seek an invitation here just to come visit the folly because he built it.” Gazing at Miss Washer, her cheeks pink, her eyes sparkling with delight, Alex was once more enchanted by her loveliness. The idea of formally courting her excited him to no end. Why no one had asked for her hand already astonished him. “I am curious, Miss Washer, why we have not met before this? You have been out in Society only recently, my uncle said?”

Some of the brightness in her face dimmed, but she smiled as she came closer to him. “I have only been in England for two months, Captain. Before that I spent some time with my aunt and uncle in the Orient.”

“Really?” This was interesting news indeed. “I must admit to being somewhat jealous of you then, Miss Washer. I have hoped for some time that my regiment would be sent to India or Pakistan, to continue keeping the peace in those countries. So far, I have only been sent as far as the Crimea.”

“You were?” Eagerness flooded Miss Washer’s face. She leaned toward him, asking in hushed tones, “Were you part of the charge of the Light Brigade?”

Alex had gotten that question many times before this, so he merely smiled and shook his head. “I’m part of the infantry, not the cavalry, so although I took part in the Battle of Balaclava, I had no part in the charge itself. You’ve read Lord Tennyson’s poem, I take it?”

“Yes, I have.” She looked at him, starry-eyed. “How absolutely stirring it was, although I expect the actual event was much more violent than the poem suggests.”