Retreat From Love by Samantha Kane Page A

wife?” He shook his head. “I don’t believe I shall ever marry, Freddy. Don’t plan around that.”
    Freddy leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the table. “Why not?”
    Brett raised a sardonic brow. “I simply don’t foresee it. And what about you? Your duchess will certainly have to be taken into account.”
    Freddy felt a pit open in his gut. Brett said that without any hesitation. Your duchess.
    “Yes, I suppose eventually there will have to be one. But I am in no great hurry.” He 53
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    stood up, and Brett was clearly surprised by the abrupt move. “What would you like to do today?” He paused as he set his napkin on the table. When he continued, he and Brett spoke at the same time.
    “I would like to go see Anne.”
    “Let’s go and see Anne.”
    The two men shared a smile and Brett stood and followed Freddy from the room.
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    Retreat From Love

Chapter Six
November 1810
    Anne,

    I have held my thoughts inside like a prayer, or a curse. I can do so no longer. This place, this time, this war—they have worn me down. There is little of Brett left here. Who am I then? I see myself in Bertie’s eyes, and that reflection is the only thing that reassures me I am still here at all.
    What utter rubbish. I shall certainly never send this letter. It is this damned arm. I tell everyone it is all right, but the truth is it is festering. That bloody French bayonet was poison.
    Knightly, a damned ingenious bully, told me to douse it with whiskey. He is the only one who realizes that it pains me still. I won’t bother the doctor with it. He is busy enough with the truly injured. I took Knightly’s advice and nearly screamed like a young girl. But it does look better today.
    Bertie is worried about his little brother. He hasn’t heard from him since his arrival. Bloody little bastard. Bertie writes him constantly, begging for a letter. I shall be hard pressed not to plant him a facer when I see him.
    Listen to me, I act as if I shall just return and blend into Bertie’s life. But I know that won’t happen. Bertie will return to you, and to that rotten little brother, and I will return to…nothing.
    Perhaps I am preparing for that? I shall just fade away here before I fade away in England. I am fading fast, Anne. I only hold tight for Bertie’s sake. Who else would watch his back? Trouble is attracted to him like a magnet. I didn’t tell him that bayonet was meant for him. Bloody fool.
    Hell, Anne, we’re a lot of bloody fools.
    That is enough, I think. Even I tire of my endless complaints. I wrote you because Bertie received another letter today. It smelled so strongly of lilacs even the campfire couldn’t disguise the sweet scent. He passed it around and every man got two minutes to sniff it, with Bertie standing guard behind them to make sure they didn’t try to steal it. I wonder if you know that we are all in love with you?

    Brett
    * * * * *
    Anne had been anxious all morning. She hadn’t slept well last night, kept awake by visions of Brett and Freddy and all the deliciously naughty things she’d like to do with them, some she wasn’t even sure were possible but she was willing to try. Would they come to see her today? If they didn’t, she wasn’t sure what she would do. She couldn’t very well waltz up to the door at the Park and expect to be welcomed inside with open 55
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    arms. As soon as Bertie had left England she’d been barred. It was simply habit now to avoid the Park. The only time she’d been there had been to try to deliver Bertie’s letters.
    Although with Freddy in residence perhaps things would be different.
    Anne was sitting by herself in the small dining room, drinking tepid tea again and nibbling on a day-old biscuit. If she didn’t hear from them in the next two, no, three days perhaps she’d go to the Park and inquire about…her mind was blank. Well, she’d think of something to inquire about besides whether the duke and Mr.