Alyssa’s softly spoken inquiry caught Colin off guard. “How is Eastman? And Lieutenant Hughes?”
Colin cleared his throat. He turned toward her, but his gaze didn’t quite meet hers. “Eastman is well.”
* * *
Alyssa cried the whole time she was in the kitchen gathering her herbal remedies. She packed a bar of vanilla and chamomile soap into her canvas bag, then slowly removed it and replaced it on the shelf.
It was Lieutenant Hughes’s favorite.
Alyssa knew she would never smell those mingled scents or the scent of lemons and not think of the young lieutenant who had thought enough of her to send her a present on the first anniversary of her marriage to his commanding officer.
She closed her eyes against the flood of tears and recalled his note.
03 May 1811
A village on the Spanish and Portuguese border
My dear Lady Abernathy,
Please accept this lemon tree as a reminder of tomorrow—the first anniversary of your marriage. I pray that it may serve as a token of the high esteem in which I hold you and the friendship you have bestowed upon me.
As I look about my quarters, I am constantly reminded of you. Lady Abernathy, though we have never met. Your presence is in the scent of the shaving soap you made for me, the scarf and the stockings and the mittens you knitted me for Christmas, in the lotions and ointments you sent to ease my suffering. And in the wonderful thick new blanket you sent for my gallant steed, Bay.
I have been deeply fortunate to serve with your noble husband and to be allowed to share in his very great fortune in having you as his lady.
Please consider this gift from Spain and Portugal a small memento of my good wishes and good fortune. Major Lord Abernathy has been kind enough to share the letters you have sent him, and I feel as if I know every inch of Abernathy Manor, for I have seen it through your eyes, shared it through your dreams and plans… If I close my eyes I can picture the conservatory and the empty corner you despaired of filling. I knew when I saw this tree that it was exactly right. I close my eyes and see it in my imagination, filling the corner of the conservatory of Abernathy Manor with the scent of lemons for years to come, providing fruit for your remedies and ease for those who benefit from them.
And in some tiny measure, I hope that as it grows, you will be reminded of the soldier who celebrated your special day in the company of your spouse and was deeply moved by your deep devotion to one another.
I look forward to the day I will visit Abernathy Manor and have the pleasure of meeting you in person and seeing for myself how all of your grand plans for the manor have come to fruition.
Until then, I remain,
Your devoted friend and admirer.
Lieutenant Nolan Hughes
PS: I enclose a note and a gift from Eastman. He is as deeply appreciative of your kindnesses as I and wished you to have an anniversary gift from him as well. Major Lord Abernathy agreed and graciously allowed us to presume upon the annual celebration of his nuptials. And don’t worry, ma’am, I promise to see that the major returns home to you.
Alyssa wiped her tears and murmured a prayer for Lieutenant Hughes and a profound prayer thanking God for allowing the lieutenant to keep his promise, for allowing him to see that the major returned home.
Griffin was alive. His wounds—whatever they were—would heal, and Griffin would come home to Abernathy Manor and to her. And she would be there to greet him.
* * *
She was waiting for him at the dock in London two days later when his ship came into port with the tide.
Alyssa’s teeth chattered as she stood in the cold, early morning breeze, flanked on one side by Lord and Lady Weymouth and the Prince of Wales and on the other side by Viscount Grantham and the prime minister. Directly behind Alyssa stood her mother and father, her sisters and their husbands. Behind them were the relatives and friends of the other men aboard HMS Semaphore.
Griffin’s ship was supposed to have been met only by the family and friends of the men aboard it, but the Prince of Wales’s and the prime minister’s appearance at the wharf had dashed that possibility.
It seemed that much of London had turned out to witness the arrival of England’s new hero. She glanced over her shoulder as the sailors aboard HMS Semaphore prepared to lower the gangway.
A crowd of well-wishers and onlookers stood behind the wooden barricades. The barricades were in place because the Prince Regent, like all royals since the revolution in France, had a fear of crowds and mobs. He had made it a practice wherever he went to have barricades erected and to use the Horse Guards to keep the crowd at bay.
The crowd gathered at the docks this morning didn’t appear to pose a danger to the regent, but the barricades kept the people behind them from rushing forward to greet the disembarking passengers.
The noise of the crowd alerted her. Alyssa looked up as the soldiers and sailors began disembarking from the ship. Viscount Grantham reached down and gave her gloved hand a reassuring squeeze.