Free A Soldier's Heart by Sherrill Bodine Page A

fired by the honor of our quest as we prepare to cross into France. Even the cooks are bursting with good spirit for our iron cooking kettles have been replaced by tin so their task is lighter. I give you the way of the small things which make up my day so you will know how I spend the time of our separation. Just as I know what makes up your days. I can see you reading in the library with Cecily and my mother. Or working on your needlepoint. And at night playing whist with my parents; they enjoy it so. Tell my mother Kendall sends his regards and appreciation for the packet of books she sent for our journey. It is a sight I thought never to see—Kendall reading a volume on philosophy! Give Poppet my love and tell her Kendall sends his regards. Tell my father all goes well and the Marquess thinks it’ll be soon over. And Longford will be receiving a letter from me about the Landing. Also give mother my thanks for procuring Shelley’s Declaration of Rights. By now, sweetheart, you must know she is immensely well read and a proponent of education for all. How she procured a work banned as seditious I can only wonder with awe. One passage has given me much thought: No man has a right to do an evil thing that good might come. The men here try so hard and are good soldiers, but we are far from home. Mostly my thoughts are with my perfect sweet Serena. Care for our plantings as you tend the dream of my return, just as I do. Memory of our brief time together burns bright in my heart and hastens my determination to return to you. Until then I am forever,
    your Blackwood
    She closed her eyes to picture him as she’d first seen him: a heroic figure stepping out of the pages of a novel. Now the fairy-tale hero was becoming a real person to her. The sweetness she’d sensed from the beginning, and the passion she’d learned on her wedding night, but there was so much more for her to discover. With a jolt of pain she yearned for him to return so she could continue the journey of discovery begun their wedding night.
    Unbidden, tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. But they could change nothing, nor could these painful thoughts. For now, letters would have to do. She splashed cool water on her tight, hot face and tidied the cornflower blue ribbon in her hair before presenting herself to the family, generously sharing all of the letter, save the last passages for herself.
    She stayed awake most of the night penning a long, detailed letter of everyday trivialities to Blackwood, along with her admiration for the bravery of his men and himself in their honorable war against Bonaparte’s tyranny. In closing she told him how the chrysanthemum throve under her vigilance. Boldly she signed, “your devoted wife.”
    After sealing the letter, she tossed and turned on her bed for what remained of the night, memories of each of their few meetings making her restless. Near dawn she finally found a cool spot on the pillow for her hot cheek and drifted into light slumber.
    Early in the morning, her eyes red-rimmed from sleeplessness, Serena directed a footman to bring her plant from the conservatory.
    Longford looked up from his breakfast. “Good God, you’re not bringing that thing with you!”
    “Of course she is! It’s so romantic, I can’t bear it! Will it bloom soon, Serena?” Cecily asked eagerly, the morning sun through the ceiling-high windows highlighting her curls into white gold.
    “Yes, in the autumn it will have beautiful red flowers.”
    “I shall stay with you until it blooms,” Cecily declared, adjusting her crimson bonnet. “I only wish I had such a symbol of Lord Kendall’s regard. Let’s be off at once; I’m anxious to see the coast.”
    As the carriage rumbled by the last building in the outlying districts, Serena leaned forward to gaze back at London. Chimney smoke hung over it, obscuring the church spires and towers of the city. So much had happened to her there—a whole new world had opened to her.