Carla Kelly by The Wedding Journey Read Free Book Online Page A

said.
    “Major Bones?” she asked. “Can we take this to General Wellesley?”
    He could hear no confidence in her voice now. Well, Captain Randall, he thought, you had better see how convincing an actor you are. He took a deep breath. “No, my dear, I think Sir Arthur will not have time to bother with us today, even if we could find him, which I doubt. Bones would only deny he had ever loaned him money.” He gave her a hug. “No, my dear, we have to make your father a better offer.”
    You are quick with the comforting platitude, Jesse told himself sourly as he walked through the rain a few minutes later, shoulders hunched, to the marching hospital. He glanced at Dan, grateful that the steward chose not to comment. They had left Nell with a dubious look on her face, but packing anyhow. He knew she didn’t want them around; a glance around Audrey Mason’s bedchamber as she lay dying had pointed out more eloquently than words that the Masons had very little substance between themand ruin. He wondered that Nell could have much dignity left, not after her mother’s death, her father’s various stupidities, and Major Bones’ plans. She had seemed calm enough. It is entirely possible that I may still be underestimating her, he told himself.
    “It seems unfair,” he said at last to Dan as they slogged along. “Why is it that good people invariably seem to come out on the slimy side of the pond, while wretched specimens like Major Bones rise to the top like someone three days dead?”
    Dan’s answer was slow in coming, and when it did, it was not a comment on his inane observation. “How are we going to find ninety-five pounds?” He stopped. “Did I mention that the major told Captain Mason that he had until six o’clock?”
    To his credit, Major Sheffield didn’t fly into the boughs when Jess told him the situation. His grip got a little tighter around the bellows he was working for Private Jenks, and he blinked his eyes a few times, but there was no outburst beyond a string of profanity that made Jess stare. “Chief, I wish I knew what to do.”
    “Empty out your pockets, lad,” Sheffield said briskly, handing the bellows to Dan, who continued the slow, careful motion. “By God, I am inclined to dump every soldier in here upside down until he coughs up whatever shilling he is hoarding. Hear that, lads?”
    It would have been difficult not to. “Oh, Chief, we can’t ask our patients to pony up,” Jess said.
    “We can,” Sheffield insisted. “Lads, listen to me. This is the only marching hospital in the whole army with someone as wonderful as Nell Mason in it. Her mother died last night, and she needs help with funeral expenses.”
    “Sir, I disremember when most of us were last paid,” one of the men called, even as he sat up and reached for his trousers at the end of his cot. His searching turned up a coin, which he held up for Jess. “Not much, is it, sir? Ah, but she’s a fine one.”
    She is, indeed, Jess thought as he circulated down the few rows of men who still remained, touched that they would willingly surrender what remained of their money—a pence here, a shilling there—when His Majesty saw fit topay them so little in the first place. Each offering was given with an air of apology, the giver wishing the gift was greater. “You would call these men a rabble, eh, Sir Arthur?” he said softly to himself as he transferred the coins to the sole unbroken emesis basin.
    While he had been collecting from his patients, Sheffield must have gone to their shared tent. He returned holding out an unmated stocking. “Eleven pounds, Jesse,” he said, and poured the coin into the basin.
    “We’re up to fifteen, then, sir,” Jess said.
    “A far cry from ninety-five,” was all Sheffield said. He went to sit by Private Jenks again. Jess went to his tent, relieved at least to see that the rain had stopped, and attempted to perform magic on the footlocker whose contents he knew too well.
    He