The Sergeant's Lady Read Free

and she had intended to be his devoted helpmeet. But then one dreadful night she had discovered she had not known her new husband at all.
    Two years later, Sebastian still thought her guilty—she had no proof of her innocence, and no amount of chaste, modest behavior would convince him he had misjudged her. But their unhappiness had settled into cold civility rather than heated quarrels. Sebastian had his ways of insulting her, but she had learned to numb her pain and ignore his continual jabs as best she could.
    Yet Anna had broken their uneasy truce a fortnight ago, and over Beatriz, of all things. The newly orphaned girl had been left without any family or friends, and Anna had hired her out of pity. It didn’t matter that Beatriz lacked the skills of a lady’s maid. She would learn them soon enough.
    But Sebastian hadn’t approved of her hiring a new servant and adding to their expenses without consulting him. He’d ordered her to dismiss Beatriz, saying the girl was a waste of money. Anna had refused and pointed out a fact she had scrupulously avoided mentioning from the beginning of their courtship until that day: every penny he possessed came from the vast fortune her father had left her.
    Now their marriage was an open war. Anna knew that if she hadn’t hired Beatriz, something else would’ve set it off soon enough. She’d had enough of letting Sebastian control her, and she loathed the nervous, mousy person she was becoming almost as much as she had grown to despise her husband. If no amount of obedient, decorous behavior would placate him, why continue the pretense?
    But for now there was a baby to deliver, and Juana needed better help than she and the two sergeants could offer.
    “Beatriz,” she said, “you must take the donkey and ride forward for Señora Gordon and María.”
    Beatriz shrank back, wide-eyed. “Go alone? Oh, no, señora.”
    Anna sighed. The girl was still so young, barely sixteen, and frightened of her strange new life with a foreign army. “You must, Beatriz. Imagine if it were you or I. Would you not want the best help that could be had? They cannot be far ahead. On the donkey you can go quickly and be safe.”
    Beatriz swallowed and nodded. “ Sí, señora. I will do it.” She untied the donkey and rode away.
    “Gracias,” Juana called after her.
    In awkward silence they awaited the next labor pain. Anna searched for something to say that couldn’t lead back to the scene Sebastian had created.
    Sergeant Atkins, bless him, stepped into the breach. “You’re from Scotland, aren’t you, ma’am?” he asked, sounding for all the world like a new acquaintance at a dinner or a ball.
    She blinked. Not many people noticed her subtle accent so quickly. “You’ve a good ear.”
    He shrugged. “You speak rather like our captain, and he’s from near Inverness.”
    She relaxed. Talking of her childhood was safe. “I’m only half-Scottish. My father was from Gloucestershire, and my brother lives there still. But Father died when I was little, so I was sent to my aunt and uncle in the Highlands. I pay my brother a visit every year—or, I did before I came here—but Dunmalcolm Castle is home.”
    “You grew up in a castle.” Sergeant Atkins drew back.
    Sergeant Reynolds and Juana also stared at her in awe. Anna didn’t want them looking at her like that.
    “It’s not such a very big castle,” she said. “Really, it’s smaller than my brother’s house. Only it’s quite old, and dreadfully drafty in the winter, and was once fortified…” She blushed as she realized how foolish she must sound. “So it’s a castle,” she finished lamely.
    Sergeant Atkins raised one eyebrow. “Really, ma’am?” he said. “Next will you tell us your uncle isn’t such a very big duke?”
    She grinned, liking him very much indeed. “Nothing of the sort. But he is very short for an earl.”
    They laughed together, ease restored.
    From then on Juana’s birth pains came regularly. She