The Wager of War and Want

"My lady," she says, her voice tight with anxiety. "You have a visitor. Colonel Hadley, from the War Office."

My blood runs cold. I know why he is here, what he has come to say. The scandalous letter, intercepted by James' commanding officer, has found its way to the ton's eager ears. My reputation, my very future, hangs in the balance.

I rise to meet my fate, the letter clutched in my fist like a talisman. Whatever comes, I will face it with my head held high. For James, for our love, I will endure any trial, bear any burden.

The storm is upon us, but I will not break.

The storm is upon us, but I will not break.

I tuck James' letter into my bodice, the parchment warm against my skin, and smooth my skirts with trembling hands. "Show the colonel in, Mrs. Grimes," I say, my voice surprisingly steady. "And bring tea, if you please."

The housekeeper bobs a curtsy and withdraws, leaving me alone for a moment to compose myself. I close my eyes and draw a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scents of beeswax and roses that permeate Ashford Park. This is my home, my sanctuary. I will not let some starched-up colonel and a gaggle of gossiping tabbies take it from me.

When I open my eyes again, I am mistress of myself once more. Calm, collected, a model of aristocratic poise. I seat myself in a high-backed chair by the fire, my spine straight, my hands folded demurely in my lap. I am Eleanor Ashford, widow, landowner, pillar of the community. I will not be cowed.

Colonel Hadley enters, a bluff, red-faced man in his fifties, his uniform immaculate, his boots polished to a mirror shine. He bows over my hand, his lips brushing my knuckles with exaggerated courtesy. "Lady Ashford," he says, his voice a low rumble. "I trust I find you well?"

"Well enough, Colonel," I reply, gesturing for him to take the chair opposite me. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

He clears his throat, a flush creeping up his neck. "I fear my errand is not a pleasant one, my lady. It concerns Captain Thorne, and a certain… letter… that has come to light."

My heart stutters in my chest, but I keep my expression neutral. "I receive many letters, Colonel," I say coolly. "From friends, family, tenants… even, on occasion, from gentlemen serving abroad. I cannot imagine what interest they could hold for the War Office."

"This particular letter is of a rather… sensitive nature," Hadley says, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "It contains information that could prove damaging to Captain Thorne's career, not to mention your own reputation. I thought it my duty to inform you before the scandal breaks."

I arch an eyebrow. "Scandal, Colonel? Surely you exaggerate. Captain Thorne and I are friends of long standing. His letters to me are personal and private, of no concern to anyone else."

"That may be, my lady," Hadley says, his tone grave. "But the contents of this letter are… explicit, to say the least. It leaves little doubt as to the nature of your relationship with the captain. If it were to become public… well, I fear the consequences would be severe."

I feel a flush rising to my cheeks, part anger, part humiliation. "And what do you propose, Colonel? That I burn the letter? Pretend it never existed? Deny my friendship with a man who has served his country with honor and distinction?"

Hadley spreads his hands in a placating gesture. "I would not presume to instruct you, Lady Ashford. I merely wished to make you aware of the situation. Forewarned is forearmed, as they say."

"Very well," I say, rising to my feet. "You have discharged your duty, Colonel. I thank you for your concern, but I assure you, I am quite capable of managing my own affairs."

He takes the hint and stands, bowing once more. "Of course, my lady. I meant no offense. I shall take my leave of you now." He hesitates, then adds, "For what it's worth, I believe Captain Thorne to be a good man, if a trifle… impulsive. I hope he recovers from his wounds and returns safely to you."

I incline my head, not trusting myself to speak. Mrs. Grimes appears to show him out, and I sink back into my chair, my composure crumbling. Tears prick my eyes, and I blink them away fiercely. I will not cry. I will not give way.

When I am alone again, I draw out James' letter and read it once more, my heart aching with love and fury. How could he be so reckless, so stupid? How could he put everything we have at risk for a moment's passion?

I take up my quill and ink, my hand shaking with the force of my emotions. The words pour out of me, hot and bitter as gall.

> Captain Thorne, > > Your letter arrived today, and with it, a visit from Colonel Hadley. Congratulations, sir—you have succeeded admirably in making us the talk of the ton. Your pretty words, your passionate declarations, have set the gossip mills turning at a furious pace. My reputation is in tatters, my name bandied about in every salon and club in London. All because you could not keep your promise to be discreet. > > How could you, James? How could you be so careless, so selfish? You knew the risks, the scandal that would ensue if our correspondence were discovered. Yet you chose to indulge your own desires, your own need to unburden your heart, without a thought for the consequences. You have betrayed my trust, sir, and I am not sure I can forgive you for it. > > Do not write to me again. Do not attempt to see me or speak to me. When you return—if you return—we will discuss how best to mitigate the damage you have wrought. Until then, I wish to have no further communication with you. > > Eleanor

I sand the letter, seal it, and scrawl his name on the outside. Then I ring for a footman and dispatch it to the War Office, my heart a cold, heavy stone in my chest.

Only when it is gone do I allow myself to weep, great, shuddering sobs that wrack my body and leave me gasping for breath. I weep for James, wounded and fevered in some distant hospital. I weep for myself, caught in a web of scandal and shame. I weep for the future we might have had, the love we might have shared.

But even as the tears fall, I clutch his letter to my breast, the ink blurred and smudged against my skin. I am angry, hurt, betrayed… but I love him still. God help me, I love him more than life itself.

And that, I fear, will be my undoing.

The weeks that follow are a special kind of hell. Rumors swirl around me like autumn leaves, whispers of "Lady Ashford's lover" and "the captain's scandalous letter" following me everywhere I go. I hold my head high, but inside, I am crumbling. I miss James with an ache that never eases, a constant companion in the bleak days and endless nights.

And then, on a crisp October morning, a mud-splashed carriage rolls up the drive to Ashford Park. I watch from the window as a tall, broad-shouldered figure alights, his arm in a sling, his face pale and drawn beneath a shock of dark, tousled hair.

James.

My heart leaps into my throat, a wild, fluttering bird. He is alive. He is here.

I fly down the stairs, my skirts tangling around my legs, and wrench open the front door. He turns to face me, his blue eyes blazing with an intensity that steals my breath.

"Eleanor," he says, his voice a low, rough growl. "Eleanor, I—"

I slap him hard across the face, the crack of my palm against his cheek echoing in the sudden silence. "You bastard," I hiss, my voice trembling with fury. "You selfish, reckless, stupid bastard. How dare you come here after what you've done?"

He reels back, his hand coming up to cradle his stinging cheek. "I deserved that," he says, his tone steady, his gaze never leaving mine. "I deserve far worse, I know. But I had to see you, Eleanor. I had to explain."

"Explain?" I scoff, my laughter sharp and brittle as broken glass. "What is there to explain? You broke your promise. You exposed us both to ridicule and ruin. You—"

He steps forward, his good arm snaking around my waist, dragging me against the hard length of his body. "I love you," he rasps, his breath hot on my face. "God, Eleanor, I love you more than life itself. I thought I was dying, and all I could think was that I had to tell you, had to make you understand—"