Hope - Lesley Pearse [272]
When Bennett looked at Angus, his heart swelled up with gratitude. He’d admired the dashing Captain right from the start because he wasn’t one of the usual weak-chinned, aristocratic, brainless oafs who bought their commissions in the cavalry because they wanted to parade around in a flashy uniform. Angus’s courage was unquestionable, but it was his humanity that had touched Bennett. Many of his troopers had recounted how he’d given them food, clothing and blankets during the last winter; he’d visited them when they were sick and wounded; he wrote letters home for them.
Yet it was Angus coming to search for him in Scutari that made him love the man. He would never forget the moment when he opened his eyes to see Angus in his blue and gold coat and cherry-red breeches grinning down at him. The fever ward was the grimmest one of all, a dark, stinking room in a basement that was overrun with vermin, but Angus had brought light and fresh air in with him.
‘You can’t skulk down here,’ he’d said. ‘Hope needs you at home. So up you come, my lad.’
He had lifted him out of that bed and slung him over his shoulder, and sick as Bennett was at that moment, somehow he knew that Angus’s will to get him home was too strong to allow him to die.
Angus would never relate to anyone that he had washed and fed him like a baby for days until Bennett could manage it for himself. Like all true heroes, he didn’t find it necessary to talk about his deeds. Yet back in Scutari he’d known just what to talk about to get Bennett to rally round.
He had described this very room in detail, even down to the chintz curtains Nell had made and the rosewood of the table. He’d said they would be round it for Christmas, and that the goose would come from Matt’s farm. He’d described Nell’s cooking until Bennett’s mouth was watering, and reminded him that Hope would be sitting next to him, prettier than a rose in full bloom.
Now that Bennett knew Angus was Hope’s father, he wondered why he hadn’t suspected it long ago for they were incredibly alike. Not just their identical dark eyes, but the shared courage, loyalty and dogged determination. What could be sweeter than having a father-in-law who had already proved himself to be the best and truest friend?
As for the seventh person at the table, Hope had told him so much about her childhood friend in the past that, coupled with what he knew of the behaviour of both his parents, Bennett had been expecting a real milksop. But here was another surprise, for Rufus wasn’t weak in any way. He was as tough and hardworking as Matt Renton, quick-witted, big-hearted, with a fine social conscience and entertaining too. Bennett had never much liked the sound of Lady Harvey, but he had to admit she must have had some good qualities to produce two such outstanding offspring.
‘You’ll never have a lonely Christmas again, not with our family,’ Nell said, interrupting his reverie. ‘But in a few years’ time you might be wishing for a quieter one.’
‘I propose a toast to many more happy occasions like this one,’ Angus said, raising his glass of wine.
‘To many more!’ everyone said as they clinked their glasses.
‘Next year Betsy might be walking,’ Hope said, glancing over to the crib in the corner where she was lying awake, waving her hands. ‘Then there won’t be peace for any of us.’
Bennett squeezed her hand under the table for he was delighted to see her fully recovered. She was too embarrassed to discuss what had ailed her the night he came home; all she would say was that she was afraid she’d never see him again. Clearly it had been a whole raft of things, shock, fear and anxiety, but whatever the cause, she was her old self again now.
‘Remember last Christmas?’ Hope said, addressing Bennett and Angus.
‘I think I had a scrawny bit of chicken with a lump of bread.’ Angus laughed. ‘Howabout you?’
‘I don’t remember eating anything,’ Bennett said. ‘But the jollifications