Page 29 of Twelve Drummers Drumming

Hugh’s smile disappeared, and his eyes darkened. “I knew that you would be angry, Jemima, but—”

“Do not call me that!” she hissed. “And keep your voice down. I do not wish you to become acquainted with my family. After this evening, we shall not see each other again.”

Rising angrily, Jemima made to walk away from him, but Hugh grabbed her arm.

“Jemima.” His voice was soft and pleading, and the simplest touch had Jemima pause.

Her lips ached for him in a way that she had not known was possible. It was not the only part of her that ached. She longed for him, longed for his touch. Seeing him here, in Society, was agony.

She swallowed but kept her face staring at the dancers, refusing to look at him.

“Jemima, you must permit me to explain.”

“What can you possibly say to undo the hurt you have caused me, Captain Rotherham?” Jemima said quietly, finally turning her eyes to his.

It was fortunate for Jemima she had not taken more than one step before Hugh spoke again, or it was likely she would not have been able to hear him, his words were so soft.

“I was afraid.”

Jemima turned to gaze at the soldier who had fought wars, who had seen battles, and had lived longer than many men in that same world.

“Afraid?”

“I…” For the first time since Jemima had known him, Hugh actually looked visibly uncomfortable. He opened his mouth a second time, but nothing came out.

Jemima unconsciously moved closer to him and took his right hand with her left. She said nothing, but the look in her eyes encouraged him to go on.

“I have never been to a ball or a dance since…well, since my injury in France.”

Compassion flowed through her veins and softened her heart. Within moments, Jemima felt nothing but shame.

*

Hugh watched herexpression change as his very soul twisted. What kind of man was he to bring this woman into his life, to bring her closer to him? What could he offer her? Him, a man who could not even gain the courage to attend a ball—an engagement ball, no less, when the discourtesy would not only be given to Jemima but also to her sister, her intended, their father…

He had spent over an hour pacing uncomfortably up and down the room that he shared with the other men from the regiment. The sound of his crutch hitting the wooden floor felt harsh in his ears, and he struggled to resist the temptation to loosen his collar.

“I see no problem,” the colonel said frankly. “She is a woman who likes you, you are a man who likes her—I cannot conceive the impediment!”

Hugh snorted. “Even you must comprehend why my attendance at a ball—a celebration of a marriage, in which there will be copious dances—is completely impossible.”

“You have an injured leg.” The colonel’s voice was matter of fact and drew a slightly embarrassed tinge in Hugh’s face. “You are not the first, and you will, sadly, not be the last. It is time to face up to the reality that unless God sees fit, this is how you will be for the rest of your life.”

Hugh did not respond to this, no matter how reasonable it was.

He was not looking for reasonable discussions, not today. He had paced up and down, his leg aching from the exertion, in his best dress uniform, yet could not bring himself to go.

He would not shame her. He would not shame himself.

“After all,” said the colonel quietly, “from the small amount that you have told me, the lady does not appear to be concerned with the crutch at all. Why should she be now? Your biggest concern should not be yourself, but her attitudes toward this war. Does she not realize things are getting worse? Cannot she understand that eventually, we could be sent back there?”

Hugh turned at one end of the room and started back down it again, not meeting the eyes of his companion.

The colonel sighed. “If you are truly not to attend, Rotherham, you had best send a message to the lady now. The engagement ball began half an hour ago, and it will take that time again for a servant to make their way there. She should be told.”

Hugh laughed darkly. “And remove myself from her company once and for all? Have her lose all faith in me, so she refuses to see me again? So I never have the blessing of seeing her face again? I agree, perhaps that is the best course.”

And it was not merely her face that he wished to see, though he would hardly admit as much to the colonel.

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