Page 30 of Disenchanted
He could not be real. I had to be having some bizarre dream about wandering in a fog, being frightened by an angry fairy, losing my mother’s earrings, and then getting attacked by a goblin man. Now, of all unlikely things, I was being rescued by Commander Horatio Crushington.
He hunkered down beside me, demanding, “Miss Upton, are you hurt?”
“No.” I continued to gawk at him. I had never seen the commander without his uniform. His military tan and blue always seemed molded to him like a second skin.
“I thought you must sleep in it,” I said.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Your uniform. I imagined that you even wore it to bed.”
“Er— no, I don’t wear anything at all. Ella, are you sure you are all right?”
He was real. Even in my strangest dream, I would never have conjured up the stern commander of the Midtown garrison informing me that he slept naked. My mind was assailed by a picture of a bare chest, muscular shoulders and arms, hard thighs and— I have always possessed far too good of an imagination. I shook my head to dispel the embarrassing vision.
Crushington once more started to ask if I was hurt, but I cut him off. “I am fine, truly.”
To prove it, I clutched my purse and struggled to stand. The commander hooked his arm about my waist to help me. I needed it. Now that the assault was over, my body reacted, and I started to shake. I saw something move out of the corner of my eye and I jumped. It was only a cat slinking past a nearby cottage. It looked like Delphine’s obnoxious feline, Ebony, but it was gone in a streak.
Misinterpreting my start, Crushington reassured me, “You need not be frightened. That varlet who attacked you is gone. He got away from me, but I promise you, I will hunt him down.”
“It does not matter. I am unharmed and more important; my gold is safe.” I hugged the precious pouch tightly to my bosom.
Crushington frowned. “You appear to have acquired a great deal of money.”
“I did not steal it, if that is what you are thinking.”
“That never occurred to me for a moment, but I fear you must have paid another visit to the gleaner.”
“The what?”
“Mr. Fugitate’s establishment.”
I had never heard Fugitate called that before and yet the term “gleaner” was not unknown to me. I had heard it somewhere long ago, but I was too rattled to recall.
Crushington continued sternly, “What were you thinking, woman? To be wandering about in this part of town alone and on such a murky afternoon! What was so urgent to bring you down here?”
I already knew how stupid and rash I had been. I did not need the Midtown commander interrogating me in that scolding tone as though I was a wayward child.
I tried to compress my lips in a mutinous line, but I was trembling too much.
“I had to sell a pair of emerald earrings. They belonged to my mother, and they were very p-precious to me.” I would have never expected to confide such a thing to Crushington or that I would burst into tears.
It was just another response to all these distressing events, but I hated to cry in front of anyone, let alone the commander of the Midtown garrison. He patted himself as though searching for a handkerchief and came up empty. Using the rough pads of his thumbs, he tried to stem my flow of tears, but they were coming too freely.
“Miss Upton… Ella. Please don’t. I did not mean to make you cry. I am sorry you had to part with something you valued so much. Are you in some sort of financial difficulty?”
“N-no. I j-just needed money for tickets. T-to the ball.”
“But you told me you didn’t want to go.”
“I d-didn’t, but now I do. B-because every girl should have a night of magic and— and I must think of the future. Because my little s-sisters are growing up and— and I don’t want Fortescue Bafton for a brother-in-law.”
“No, I should not like that either.”
There was something about the solemn way that Crushington agreed with me that caused me to erupt into laughter. He stared at me in dismay. The poor man probably thought I was going mad.
I hiccupped on a combination giggle-sob and strove to regain control of myself.
