Hope - Lesley Pearse [216]
Nell had given her former mistress short shrift that day. She was so full of joy that her seven-year wait was finally over that she wasn’t going to allow it to be diluted by anyone. Lady Harvey had gone off in a huff, but not before she’d sobbed about how hard her life was now, and how misunderstood she was.
It was only days later that the whole of England had been shocked by the news of the carnage of the Light Brigade at Balaclava. Nell had been beside herself as she waited for news of Captain Pettigrew, and even when she knew he was one of the wounded, she couldn’t stop worrying for he might very well die later from his injuries. But finally his letter had arrived to tell her he had just been moved from the hospital where Hope had stitched up his wounds and he was doing well.
She must have read that letter a hundred times, crying each time. She had stopped going to church after Reverend Gosling had told her she was sinful to leave Albert, and showed no concern for Hope. But she went to the church in Keynsham that day and thanked God. Even now, with two more letters from the Captain and five in all from Hope, she remained totally convinced that it was God’s hand that had brought the two of them together, and that it was for a purpose which He would soon reveal.
*
‘Imagine Hope stitching up Captain Pettigrew!’
Rufus’s remark brought Nell sharply out of her musing. He looked so incredulous, wide-eyed and filled with the romance of war.
‘Eh! To think I taught her to sew too,’ she laughed. ‘But she makes it sound so dirty there. If it’s that bad, I don’t know how she can stand it.’
‘She’s just telling us how it really is. She doesn’t seem to think Lord Cardigan is the hero we’ve been led to believe,’ Rufus said, looking down thoughtfully at one of the letters. ‘Or Lord Raglan such a great general! It is appalling that so many soldiers are dying of disease, that they’re hungry with no warm clothes or even proper shelter.’
‘She always was soft-hearted,’ Nell said.
‘But very truthful, Nell,’ Rufus reminded her. ‘It looks to me as if we’re being given a false picture back here. How dare they put the blame for so many deaths on to the doctors, when really it’s the fault of the government because they didn’t plan this campaign properly from the outset.’
‘Well, I daresay you read all the newspapers and understand them,’ Nell said. ‘I can’t make head nor tail of it.’
‘Well, it does seem to me that they glorify war. They don’t tell us, like Hope has, about the men collapsing with the heat on the march to Balaclava because their uniforms were too warm, nor that they had nothing to drink. Imagine them being left there to die because there were no carts to put them on!’
‘I don’t like the parts of her letters when she goes on about things like that.’ Nell wrinkled her nose with distaste.
‘Then you are as bad as my mother,’ he said scornfully. ‘She’s only interested in soldiers when they are in full dress for a review, with the band playing.’
Nell turned back to her pot of soup so Rufus wouldn’t see her face, for she was afraid it would give her feelings away. She was pretty certain Lady Harvey would be eager to hear every last piece of news of the Captain when he got back to Briargate later. And she would see Captain Pettigrew’s injuries as the perfect excuse to write to him and try to win his heart again.
If she did secure it, where would that leave Nell?
Chapter Twenty-two
1855
Hope rubbed away the ice on the inside of the hospital window with the corner of her apron and couldn’t help but smile at the sight which met her eyes. Snow had fallen during the night and now at daybreak the harbour looked beautiful.
The ships had been transformed into fantastic fairy vessels, every rope, beam and railing lightly sprinkled with snow. No footprints had yet spoiled the virgin whiteness on the decks; even the planks to shore had a thick carpet of white.
All the terrible ugliness, filth and squalor on the quayside was covered. Crates,