Chapter 2
1547 Words
Jack drew on his cheroot, as Mary brushed imaginary dust from David"s shoulder, talking all the while. “I"d rather you wouldn"t join the army, David, but if you must at least join the 113th, so your father can look after you.”
David smiled. “That"s why I can"t join the 113th, Mother. I must make my own way in the world.”
Mary shook her head. “You"re your father"s son, right enough. Stubborn as a battery mule.”
“More like his mother"s son,” Jack said as David walked away. “Stubborn as the Brigade of Guards and knows everything better than anybody else.”
Mary shook her head, closed the door, and began to change. Jack liked to watch her dress, with twenty years of marriage, not diminishing his affection.
“Do women have to wear so many layers?” Jack asked, tracing her curves with his eyes. “You have three sets of petticoats beneath your dress.”
“Stop talking nonsense and tighten my laces, could you, Jack?” Mary stepped across to him. “I do hope that David is all right in Aldershot.”
“He"s a level-headed, active young man,” Jack said, as he prepared for the ordeal of the brigade dinner that lay ahead. “I think he"ll do well.”
“I worry about him.” Mary perched on the padded stool, leaned closer to the mirror and sighed. “I am looking old.”
“No, you"re not,” Jack said and kissed the top of her head. “You are looking wonderful.”
“Oh, Jack!” Mary brushed him away and began working on her hair, speaking through a mouthful of hairpins. “If the army posts us abroad again, David will be alone here.”
“He"s been preparing all his life to join the army,” Jack said. “He"s more a soldier than many soldiers I know.”
“All the same,” Mary dabbed perfume behind her ears, smiled at Jack, and added a drop in her cleavage. “I don"t know why I bother doing this,” she sighed. “The officers avoid me, and their wives snub me.”
“I like it,” Jack said, bending over to get the full benefit of her perfume.
“I know,” Mary agreed, had a last look at her hair, and stood up. “Ready, Jack?”
“Ready.” He kissed her again, knowing that she hated brigade dinners more than he did.
The dinner was a formal affair, with the officers in their dress uniforms, and the wives competing for attention. Jack glanced at the array of bustles, high-necked dresses, and mutton-chop sleeves, looked at Mary and knew she was the most beautiful woman there. Candlelight gleamed on the silverware and crystal of both regiments, although the Royal Malverns provided most. The regimental treasures were on display, from the candlesticks that an enterprising officer of the Royals had looted from a ruined church during Marlborough"s Blenheim campaign to the silver-mounted Cossack Shashka from the siege of Sebastopol.
“It is very impressive,” Mary allowed, as she swept up her bustle and perched on her seat.
The officers of the regiments sat together, with the wives at their side. As always, Mary"s Eurasian appearance attracted attention.
“If anybody says anything untoward,” Jack murmured, “tell me at once.”
“I"ll deal with them myself,” Mary said.
“That"s what I am afraid of,” Jack looked away. “I don"t want an inter-regimental war starting.”
“Then they"d better behave themselves,” Mary disguised her inner turmoil behind a tight smile.
Colonel Elliot sat at one end of the table, with Colonel William Windrush of the Royals at the other. Sitting beside William, Dorothea, his wife, allowed her eyes to roam across the assembled faces.
“Good evening, Jack,” Dorothea called cheerfully. “Congratulations on David"s victory today. It takes a good boy to defeat our Crimea in a horse race.”
“Thank you,” Jack was aware that William was watching every gesture and listening to every word.
“Good evening, Mary,” Dorothea called. As the colonel"s wife, she could flout conventions where she wished.
“Good evening, Dorothea,” Mary replied.
Sliding from her seat, Dorothea walked past the officers to speak directly to Mary. Once she had made the breakthrough, no officer or lady there would dare snub Mary because of her colour. The colonel"s wife made the rules.
Jack held Dorothea"s gaze and nodded his thanks. Once he and Dorothea had been close; now they shared a wary friendship.
“It"s good to see the local regiments forging such close bonds,” Dorothea said loudly. “Don"t you agree, Mary?”
Jack noticed some of the Royal"s officers looking uncomfortable. He silently blessed Dorothea, who always could surprise.
“I agree,” Mary said. “We are all one big happy family.” She gave her most charming smile to the frozen-faced ladies of the Royals before turning her charisma onto William.
“A toast,” Colonel Windrush announced suddenly. “Could everybody return to their seats, please? It is the tradition that the most junior officer present toasts the Queen. Mr Windrush, that means you!”
Crimea Windrush rose, glass in hand. He looked around the table for a moment before announcing “Gentlemen: the queen!”
The officers all stood, glasses raised, repeated “the queen, God bless her,” and downed the contents in a single swallow, as was the Royals" custom.
The meal was too stodgy for Jack"s taste, and he saw Mary eating small portions and putting the remainder aside, as the servants, soldiers-all whisked away one plate to replace it with another.
“How are you holding up?” Jack whispered across to her.
“I wish there were a regimental dog,” Mary replied.
“Why is that?”
“Because then I could feed it with this muck,” Mary gestured to her plate. “It"s awful.”
Jack grinned. “Now you know why I prefer to live at home.”
With the final plate cleared away, the serious drinking began. One by one, the toasts came, with the officers gradually drinking themselves into a state of merriment or stupidity, depending on their natures.
“It"s strange to think that our David will be sitting here in a few years,” Mary returned to a familiar subject. “If he chooses to join the 113th.”
“I hope he does,” Jack had no illusions of the recklessness of junior officers as they tried to integrate with their regiment. If David were in the 113th, Jack would be able to restrain his natural impulsiveness until he matured a little.
“So do I,” Mary lifted one of Jack"s cheroots, decided she should not shock the company and replaced it beside his plate.
Jack became aware that most of the Royals" wives and half the officers were watching, perhaps waiting for Mary to perform an Indian dance or a charm a snake. Instead, Mary favoured them with a smile and sipped at her wine.
“I"ll never belong here, Jack. Whatever I do, or whatever rank you achieve, these people will never accept us. In their eyes, being of mixed blood taints us.”
“We"ve discussed this before,” Jack said. “A hundred times before.”
“I know,” Mary said. “But it still annoys me.” She met the gaze of a major"s wife from the Royals and gave a brilliant smile. The woman looked away, to whisper to her husband.
“I"m as good as any of them,” Mary said.
“No,” Jack said. “You"re better than any of them.”
Mary turned to him, her voice louder than she intended as the wine took hold. “I think our mixed blood is why you"re still a major when lesser men have been promoted over your head.”
A lull in the conversation carried Mary"s words around the room. Jack groaned inwardly.
“That"s the army way,” Jack tried to sound nonchalant. “There are also many better men than me among the lower-ranked officers.” He saw Elliot half rise from his seat, preparing to defend Mary, and then young Lieutenant Harcourt cracked a terrible joke that broke the tension and the incident passed. Major Burridge laughed loudly, Captain Singer gave a weak smile as he avoided Mary"s gaze, and only William continued to glower at Jack.
“Well, gentlemen,” Elliot said. “It has been a most successful evening, but I think we"d better call a halt now. It"s past two in the morning and reveille will be sounding soon.”
The gathering broke up with growled farewells, handshakes and smiles from the ladies.
“Thank you, Arthur,” Jack said to Elliot.
“I thought you needed a hand,” Elliot said. “Get some sleep, Jack, we have a visitor tomorrow.”
“Who?”
“Get some sleep. You might need it.”
“That sounds ominous,” Jack said, but Elliot refused to say more.
- Writer
