Come the Dawn Read Free

a slow breath, her fingers twisting in the lace curtains. “I can’t.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I can’t speak of it, Grandmama.”
    The Duchess of Cranford’s brows rose ominously. “Invitations have been sent out, India. There are five hundred people in London who expect to meet you next week.”
    “I can’t go, Grandmama. I’m not ready.”
    “You’ve had well over a year to put the past behind you, India. All that time I’ve watched and worried and held my peace. But the mourning must end. Whoever he was, he isn’t going to come back.”
    “I don’t know what you mean,” India said stiffly.
    The duchess snorted. “Only a man could have put that stricken look in your eyes and taken away your laughter. You’ve gone and lost your heart, gel, and don’t tell me you haven’t. But now it’s time to get on with your life. You owe it to your family and yourself, India. You’ve spent enough time lost in your grief.”
    India looked out the window. Down the hill lilies spilled in a pool of white against the green lawns of Swallow Hill. Here eight generations of Delameres had supported their sovereigns, pursued their wildly eccentric dreams, and left the world in some way richer than they had found it. Could she do the same?
    “I tell myself that every day, Grandmama. Then I hear a certain tone or I see a shadow — and suddenly I’m back at Lady Richmond’s last party in Brussels. The carriages are clattering past and the soldiers are marching off to rejoin their regiments. And I can’t seem to forget. Oh, I know he didn’t love me because I was special.” India put a hand on the window, oblivious to the priceless lace framing her slender body, indifferent as she always was to the vision she made with her vibrant hair and creamy skin. “I think he thought me — brave. But I’m not. Lately, I have no heart for anything. I can’t go to Lady Jersey’s and titter about the Prince Regent’s latest indiscretion as if nothing had happened. I’ve changed, Grandmama. Everything has changed.” Her eyes darkened with terrible memories. “After Waterloo, the wounded were crammed in carts and drays and wagons. There were no clean linens for bandages, no beds, and almost no food.” India shivered as she was swept back into the dark past. “We worked for hours at a time, losing most but saving some, fighting for whatever small piece of good we could do. And through it all I always thought — I always prayed — that I’d see one man walk out of the dust and smoke. His step would be quick and his smile as jaunty as ever.” Her voice broke. “But he didn’t come, Grandmama. Not then nor in the long weeks afterward. Now nothing will ever be the same again because I think … I died with him.” India brushed at the tears she had concealed too long.
    “Come here, you impossible child.” The duchess tugged India into her arms. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this sooner?”
    “I couldn’t. It all happened so — so quickly. And when the man I told you of didn’t come back, I couldn’t bear to discuss it. Not with anyone.”
    “My dear sweet gel,” the duchess said huskily, smoothing India’s hair. “You’ve come to womanhood by a rocky path, I fear. But face it you must. This man is gone. You have your whole life before you, no matter how impossible that seems now. You must find new joys and new challenges to live for, do you hear me?” The old woman made her voice stern. “You owe it to yourself and those who love you. You also owe it to the dashing man who’s just waiting to have his heart stolen and his life overturned when you walk into that ballroom and pull him under your spell.”
    “Not for a second time,” India said sadly. “I will never feel that kind of love again.” She knew that wild, blinding passion was forever beyond her. But her grandmother was right: she had a duty to her family and herself.
    So she would go to London. She would wear her grandmother’s