With This Ring by Carla Kelly Page A

clubbed him with a ramrod, so I got the backhand
instead of the foreword thrust. I was lucky, indeed. Please don’t
stop yet.”
    “ Only if you continue the narrative,
sir.”
    “ Oh, yes. Aunt Chalmers harbors the
notion that Laren men are not to be trusted around women.” He
sighed. “My father was one of them, I suppose. He wenched his way
through Northumberland and one or two shires in Scotland, I
believe. I probably have brothers and sisters I’ve never
met.”
    She opened her eyes wide at this
news, but said nothing. Perhaps I should be grateful for my own
father, meek as he is, she thought for the first time.
    “ At any rate, Aunt Chalmers is quite
loyal to Mama, and she has watched her cry over my father for years
and years.”
    “ If I may be
practical ….”
    “ By all means.”
    “ Your father and mother were
married, were they not?”
    He nodded. “So why should it matter
whether I am married or not, if my father was such a beast, and he
was married, too?” he asked, following her thoughts. He shook his
head. “I haven’t a clue, except that I know she did not care much
for my father. Could it be revenge? I do not know.”
    He was silent. She returned to her
copying, then put down the pen again. “All right, what is the
rest?”
    “ You’re a nosy female,” he teased,
grinning at her. “Mama was determined that I should resign my
commission, leave Spain, hurry home, and marry the daughter on the
neighboring estate.”
    “ You don’t care for the lady?” she
asked.
    He shook his head. “She’s pretty
enough, I suppose, and if I recall, she can carry on a good
conversation, but I am not interested. I could not leave my men,
either, or my guns, or Badajoz.” He reached out and touched her
arm. “You have met my men. Do you understand?”
    “ Oh, yes. And from what they have
told me, you are not one to leave someone in the lurch. I wonder
that your mother and aunt thought you would drop
everything.”
    “ They have not seen war. How can
they know?” he murmured as he took the page she handed him and
shook sand on it. He poured the grains carefully into the shaker
again and secured the lid. “It seemed like such a good idea to
invent a wife.”
    “ You didn’t!”
    “ I did. Stupid, wasn’t it? I blame
it on the siege. When you’re in the middle of one, it’s hard to
believe that it will ever end. And who knows? Maybe I would be
killed, and not have to face my mother, my aunt, or the young lady
on the neighboring estate, who I regret to add, did harbor some
expectations in my direction.” He peered at her. “I do not know
that I have ever seen a more skeptical expression, Miss
Perkins.”
    “ I doubt you have,” she agreed. “And
who is this paragon you invented?”
    “ We—Percy Wilkins, I, and my gunnery
sergeant—we created a daughter of the regiment. I believe we made
her father a major from a very good family. After Badajoz, Percy
found a miniature among the ruins, and included that with the
letters and the marriage license, of course, so Aunt Chalmers would
be satisfied.”
    “ How did you find that?”
    “ Simple, my dear. We located a
priest only too eager to help us, especially when it was pointed
out to him that his head would look better on his shoulders. You
should have seen it: all Latin, with gold lettering, and a seal
something like what the lord chancellor must use. They really do it
up right in Spain.” He watched her face. “I can see that you are
not impressed, Lydia. Wait, it gets worse.”
    “ How could I doubt it?”
    “ Did you meet Percy Wilkins, my
lieutenant?”
    Lydia shook her head. “I have a
feeling that I am going to be profoundly grateful that I did
not.”
    “ Percy’s a bit of a romantic.” For
the first time in his narrative, Major Reed frowned. “I think this
is where it started going wrong.”
    “ You think this is the
place?” Lydia asked in amazement.
    “ Percy decided it would be fun to
begin a correspondence with my