Free The Sergeant's Lady by Susanna Fraser Page B

separated herself from Montmorency and stood on the other side of Mrs. Kent, her eyes fixed on some unseen point.
    “Another early day tomorrow,” Lieutenant O’Brian said. “We’d best turn in.”
    In the general bustle that followed, the ladies were the first to disappear behind the walls of their tent.
    ***
    Neither Anna nor Mrs. Kent had brought a maid—Beatriz had been absorbed into Alec and Helen’s household—so the ladies helped each other dress. Anna found Mrs. Kent a reasonably congenial traveling companion for such awkward circumstances, though she was obliged to submit to being fussed over more than she liked. She was the same age as Mrs. Kent’s eldest daughter, so she supposed the motherly concern was unavoidable.
    “That Sergeant Atkins must be rather clever,” Mrs. Kent said as Anna undid the laces of her stays for her. “He reads as well as many a gentleman, though of course no one could mistake him for one with that accent. Such a dreadful r! ”
    Anna forced herself to keep working without the slightest pause. “I daresay he spent a few years in some village school,” she said, “and as for being clever, I’ve never observed any correlation between rank and intelligence. At least, I’ve met a great many stupid gentlemen.”
    “All too true, my dear. Speaking of gentlemen, what do you think of young Lieutenant Montmorency?”
    “I was furious with him for telling that soldier what the sonnet meant. The question was meant for Sergeant Atkins, and it was rude to answer for him.” Anna spoke with more passion than she’d intended and hoped Mrs. Kent wouldn’t notice.
    Now that her stays were unlaced, Mrs. Kent slipped them off her shoulders and set them neatly atop her trunk. “Turn around, my dear, and I’ll see to your buttons.” Anna obeyed. “I agree,” Mrs. Kent said, much to Anna’s surprise. “A newly arrived lieutenant ought to have the sense to cultivate his company’s NCO’s, not snub them. His actions violated both common sense and common courtesy, and on the whole I find I cannot like him.”
    “Nor can I, ma’am.” She stepped out of her black bombazine dress and tossed it onto her cot.
    “I think he could like you very well indeed, however,” Mrs. Kent said as she helped Anna unlace her stays.
    Anna gritted her teeth. Today Lieutenant Montmorency had traded obsequious fawning for thinly veiled contempt, undoubtedly fueled by his suspicions of her and Sergeant Atkins. “I’m not so sure about that, ma’am. And if he did, it would avail him nothing.”
    “I’m delighted to hear you say so, my child. I always think it unbecoming when a lady fails to observe the mourning period, no matter her situation. One can understand it with soldiers’ widows—most of them have no good home to return to and no money to get there, so taking another husband immediately is their best choice. But for you, it would be insupportable.”
    “Indeed, ma’am, there’s been gossip enough already,” she replied absently as she pulled her nightdress over her head. To think, if Sebastian had been an enlisted man and she an ordinary sort of woman, she could marry Sergeant Atkins today and no one would bat an eyelash. If anything, her friends would congratulate her on her luck, for what better match could a soldier’s widow aspire to than a sergeant from a highly regarded regiment? This very night she could be sharing his bed—well, his bedroll . Though the night was warm, she shivered. Sleep would again prove elusive.
    Mrs. Kent, blessedly oblivious to Anna’s turmoil, continued to prose on about Lieutenant Montmorency. “And even were it not so soon, I should hate to see you throw yourself away on such a man, without a penny to bless himself with.”
    “I assure you, ma’am, if I ever remarry, I shall take care to choose a gentleman who cannot be suspected of using me to advance his career.” She folded her dress and put it away, snapping her trunk’s lid shut.
    “That’s