“I don’t think I can bear to let you leave,” she said, pulling back to tip up her face and to gaze at him with deep yearning.
“But if I stayed you would hand me a feather,” said Hugh, trying to remain jocular. He smiled at the other young ladies and tried to ignore the urge to wriggle from Lucy’s arms. The soldiers leaned from the carriage and watched with much interest.
“Of course I expect you to go, Hugh,” said Lucy. “But what am I to do while you are gone? Every day will be an agony of not knowing if you live or die.” A tear trickled down her pretty cheek, and she bravely let it fall unchecked. Hugh knew he should feel for her distress, but instead the thought came to him that Beatrice Nash would not dream of subjecting him to such a ridiculous scene.
“I assure you I shall be quite safe,” he said, gently disengaging her arms. He immediately felt guilty at his churlishness; she was young, and her distress was not to be so lightly cast aside. He took her hands in his and added, “The clearing stations and hospitals are some way behind the lines.”
“If only we had some definite hope to which we might cling,” said Lucy. “I know I made you wait in the most horrible manner, Hugh, but won’t you please let me send a notice to The Times? It would warm our darkest moments of fear.”
“Give ’er something to hold on to,” said a rough voice, and several of the men laughed and sniggered in a way Hugh might have rebuked had he not wished to avoid enlarging the scene.
“In good conscience I cannot bind you to any promise in these dangerous times,” he said, in what he hoped was a kind but firm tone. “I would not want you to waste your youth and beauty in mourning.”
“I think I would make a most interesting widow,” said Lucy. She smoothed a wayward ringlet of hair behind her ear and smiled. “Not that one would wish such a state on anyone, but a sensible woman might use the gravity of the position to great authority in these times.”
Hugh was not sure of the correct conversational response to such an offer—if she had indeed just offered to be his widow. He was searching about for an answer when the train whistle blew and the porter leaned from the carriage behind him to call out, “All aboard!”
“I must go,” said Hugh. Lucy gave a sob and leaned on his shirtfront in an attitude that would allow him to take the liberty of a passionate kiss. Hugh hesitated above her porcelain face but moved her gently back and took her hand instead. He kissed it, and then kissed the hands of her friends, who seemed gratified to be thus brought into the small drama. As the engine let out a great cloud of steam, Hugh sprang into the carriage and closed the door. He waved from the window at the three weeping ladies and then was gratefully forced inside by a rush of soldiers all wanting to hang from the window and blow kisses and call out compliments and insults as a military band played out the departing train.
—
The atmosphere at dinner was so tense that every scrape of a fork on a plate sounded like a shot. Jenny the maid sensed the tension, and in trying to tiptoe through it, she became clumsy, clanking the water jug and spilling Hugh’s pea soup from the ladle onto the tablecloth. He covered the spreading pool of green with his napkin, and she threw him a grateful glance.
“How was the trip down?” asked Uncle John.
“Crowded,” said Hugh. Another vibrating silence pressed on his ears.
“When do you have to leave?” his uncle asked.
“Monday morning,” said Hugh. “First train out.” It was not a successful conversational direction because Aunt Agatha smothered a choked sob in her napkin, pushed back her chair with enough force to crack a leg, and fled the room.
“I don’t mean to upset her,” said Hugh. “I’m sure I’ll be quite safe.”
“It’s Daniel,” said his uncle.
“Of course it is,” said Hugh, sorry for the unavoidable tiny creep of annoyance in his tone. Even his own departure to the front was to be overshadowed. “He’ll be in the thick of things, I know, but does he have any orders yet?”
“I fear Lord North’s vendetta may have raised its ugly head again.”
“That’s grossly unfair,” said Hugh.
“Colonel Wheaton was not going to entertain Lord North’s ranting, but someone persuaded him to pressure Daniel into resigning.”
“Who pressured him? Who would do such a thing?” said Hugh. If the Colonel had planned to ignore the powerful Lord North, Hugh could not imagine who would have changed his mind.
“There’s the rub,” said John. “The Colonel let slip to Daniel that your Aunt Agatha forced his hand.”
“Aunt Agatha?” said Hugh. “That’s impossible.”
“Of course she had no idea what she was really doing. She had no concept of how dangerous Lord North’s accusations might be. She has no clear picture of the landscape of moral failings his petitions imply, and I confess I am too much the coward to draw a map and show her of what her nephew might be accused.”
“But it’s all rubbish anyway,” said Hugh, blushing. “I know my own cousin, and he would never…it’s just outrageous.”
“She thinks she knows best, but she has overstepped this time,” said John. “Daniel left, and we don’t know where he went. All we know is that he does not wish any further contact with us.”
“What is he going to do?”
“Your aunt hoped he would resign and accept a commission with the propaganda office in London,” said John. “Instead Daniel plans to fight it and has demanded a hearing.”
“Good for him,” said Hugh.
“It’s a terrible idea,” said John. “Mud will stick, regardless of the findings, and they may discharge him anyway.” Uncle John sighed. For the first time, Hugh saw an old man’s face before him. His vibrant uncle with the smooth diplomatic air was tired.
“It’s sometimes easier to manage a war than a wife,” John continued. “She knows she did something very wrong, and of course this makes her all the more adamant that she was right. She’s heartbroken.”
“It will blow over,” said Hugh, but he felt a cold sinking in his stomach at the unimaginable idea of a breach in the family. Aunt Agatha was like a fixed point in the universe, around which they might find one another at all times. It was inconceivable that Daniel might cease to lounge around with his feet on the living room sofas, or bother Cook for cake at breakfast.
“Some terrible words were exchanged,” said his uncle.
“I’m sure Daniel regrets his part already,” said Hugh. “If you have any idea where he might be, let me go and talk to him.”
“I fear talk is too late,” said his uncle. “There’s a hearing set for Sunday.”
—
Daniel was in Mr. Tillingham’s study, seated by the fire with his head in his hands. Hugh had been shown up to see them after waiting an anxious few minutes in the hall below, from where he had a good view of the Professor, enjoying a solitary go at the port and some aromatic cheese in the dining room.
“Come in, my boy,” said Mr. Tillingham, who looked relieved to see him. “I fear my meager capabilities in the realm of advice-giving are all but depleted, and we could use some reinforcements.”
“Hugh does not need to burden himself with my sordid problems,” said Daniel. “He is leaving for the front, Mr. Tillingham, and is not to be distracted by the petty indignities I must suffer.”
“Stop sipping the proverbial hemlock, Daniel,” said Hugh. “This is no time for exaggerated gestures.”
“What gestures befit my aunt’s betrayal?” asked Daniel. “Is she done washing my blood from her hands?”
“She meant to save you from going to the front,” said Hugh. “While it is shameful to try to keep someone you love at home while others go in his place, you must see she operated out of love, not malice.”
“She meddled once too often,” said Daniel. “She has no idea what I am facing.”
“It’s not too late to resign,” said Hugh. “Uncle John is pretty sure he can get you in at the propaganda office.”