Scandal at the Dower House by Sally James Read Free Book Online

distinguish them. There was utter fury and disgust at Matthew’s calculating cynicism; anger at Joanna for being taken in by him, and permitting such intimacies; dismay at the scandal that would arise when their friends learned of the situation; and under it all a shameful jealousy that her sister knew more about this aspect of life than she did herself.
    She and Walter had led celibate lives. On their wedding night he had confessed to her that, due to an accident some years before, he was incapable of fathering a child. They had never lived as man and wife, though no one but themselves knew this state of affairs. She suddenly had a vision of Nicholas Brooke, and wondered guiltily what it would be like to have such a handsome man make love to her. Before her wedding she had often wished for a young and handsome knight to come and carry her away from her uncle’s house, but when told she was to marry Walter had striven to banish such unmaidenly thoughts.
    She pulled herself together. Kindness in a husband was more important than good looks. But he had invaded her dreams too frequently for her comfort.
    ‘Don’t worry, Joanna. We’ll think of a way round it, without resorting to any dirty old woman in Bristol! Now I’ll show you to your room, the pretty one with the rose-patterned wallpaper you chose, and in the morning I’ll have thought of a plan. And think yourself lucky you are not really married to Matthew!’
    * * * *
    In the aftermath of the battle, when the Emperor’s army had been routed, Nicholas, filthy from the mud and so weary he wanted nothing better than to lie down in his soaking wet clothes and sleep where he was, knew he had to make sure Jeremy was safe. He’d seen his brother a couple of hours previously, and at that time he had been alive and exalted with the success they sensed was coming. He set off, asking everyone he met if they knew where Jeremy’s regiment was, and was eventually directed to an inn on the road back to Brussels.
    His horse, as weary as he was, stumbled along the chaussee, and dropped his head the moment Nicholas dismounted. The road was filled with carts carrying the dead and wounded, soldiers straggling back to Brussels, and people trying to go the other way, either to look for loved ones or, Nicholas suspected, to scavenge amongst the debris and rob the dead still lying where they had fallen. There was grass at the roadside, but his poor horse seemed too weary to bother eating. Nicholas knew how he felt. Though all he’d had in the past four and twenty hours was a small loaf of coarse bread, he had no desire for food, just for sleep.
    There were several cavalrymen sitting on the ground outside the inn, but not Jeremy. Someone inside was screaming in agony, and Nicholas winced at the sound.
    ‘What goes on? I’m looking for my brother, Jeremy Brooke.’
    One of the men gave him a sorrowing look. A second gestured towards the inn.
    ‘Don’t ask, mate. It’s butchery in there. He’s no surgeon.’
    ‘What?’
    Nicholas pushed past them and found his way into the coffee room. The long trestle tables had been commandeered as beds, and several men lay on them, groaning, while others surrounded the furthest table. He glanced round swiftly but could not see Jeremy. Then he thought he heard his brother’s voice, demanding to be let go.
    ‘Pour some more brandy down his throat,’ Nicholas heard, and fearing the worst he pushed through towards this group of men.
    Jeremy lay on the trestle, struggling to get free, but his arms and legs were being held down by four brawny fellows while a fifth was sharpening a large, wicked-looking saw. Jeremy’s breeches had been cut away and blood was pouring from a wound in his left thigh.
    Nicholas grabbed the man with the saw and demanded to know what was going on.
    ‘Bullet lodged. Now get off, there’s plenty more to be done. Have you got the pitch ready?’ he asked yet another man standing beside him.
    ‘Aye, nice and