The coin still felt cold in his hand. This was no more than a game. He smiled a little and wished for work that was satisfying and that paid an impressive wage. Even as he had the thought, the coin warmed his palm. Lindsay opened his eyes with a jerk and then opened his hand.
Poppy straightened, and at that very moment the sun broke through the clouds. A beam of sunlight found its way through the front window, falling directly on the coin. It glowed as golden and warm as the Mediterranean sun. „Very good, Papa. It must have been a very fine wish.“
„I was always good at following orders.“ Lindsay kissed the top of her head. „Now I give the coin away?“
„No, Papa,“ she said with the long-suffering tone of women everywhere. „You keep it until you are sure your wish is granted. You will know.“
„How? Will the coin glow again?“
„No.“ She snuggled closer.
That was reassuring. He had handled death and war and now poverty, but Lindsay was sure that he would find magic more unsettling than all the rest combined.
„At first I was not at all certain that you were the answer to my wish. You see, I had wished for a papa and a mama. The night before we came here, I was in the kitchen eating a syllabub that Cook had made as a treat. I took the coin out, laid it on the table and asked quite out loud if you were the answer to my wish. At that very moment, Mama’s friend who had given me the coin came through the door. He told me he was sorry that Mama was gone and yes, in- deed, you were the answer to my wish. Then he bowed and left.“
She turned her head so she could see him as she explained. „And Papa, the man was right. It was my mistake, you see, for I did not think to ask for a papa and a mama both at the same time.“
She drew a deep breath and closed her eyes. In one minute she was fast asleep. Lindsay examined the coin.
Ah, from the East India Company. He used his thumb and fingers to turn the coin and found something in Arabic. There was the Roman numeral X at the bottom and the word „CASH.“ Ten of whatever. How convenient, but of no use to him at all. He would hold the coin to please her, even though he was sure it was no more magic than his shirt button.
Two
Lindsay made his way down the crowded street. „Sorry,“ he said to the flower seller he nudged with his arm. She merely shrugged at his clumsiness. „Beg pardon, ma’am.“ He bowed to the woman who bumped into him. She made her own apology with a gap-toothed smile. Did the sun send rays of good humor as well as light? Or was it that after a week of rain, the people of London felt nothing but gratitude for even half a day of dry, fine weather?
Stepping aside, Lindsay watched a bunch of street urchins race from an alley. No matter the age or station, half of London had the same idea he did. Walking cost not a shilling and after days of rain was pure pleasure.
Or would be if he could lose the feeling of impending financial disaster. He could barely support himself, much less his new family, and it would take time to sell his commission. He could borrow against the sale, but the cost of the loan would seriously reduce the money that came his way. And he needed every guinea far more than the moneylenders did. Lindsay walked on as though time and distance were the key to his problems.
He might wish for employment every minute of every day, but it would hardly fall into his arms. Not without some effort on his part. But where to start? Lindsay looked up as if he would find the answer wherever his random walking had brought him.
Bond street. Far from his Chelsea neighborhood, in more ways than one. For all that the exalted streets of May-fair had been his milieu until ten years ago, he felt a trespasser.
It did not seem to matter whether it had been ten years or ten days. The same well-dressed men and women made their way in and out of shops, pausing to bow, stopping to chat. Maids and footmen moved with more purpose than their betters, laden down with parcels.
Lindsay noted that dresses were more elaborate, with ruffles at the hem, and that the spencers had more trim. The subdued color and cut of the men’s clothing made the red of his uniform stand out all the more. His shako looked as out of place here as a mob cap would have at Waterloo. No matter – he was entitled to wear his uniform until he sold his commission. It was all that stood between him and clothes from a secondhand stall.
The smell of sugar and molasses made him think of Poppy, and he made his way to the door of the confectioner’s. He had the door open before he recalled that he had no real money with him. He could not spend Poppy’s coin, and not only because the shop owner would throw it in his face.
Instead of going in, Lindsay held the door for two women who were leaving, a lady and her maid. Judging from their laughter, the maid was as much friend as servant.
„But, my lady, he should he giving me sweets.“
„Kitty, some rules are made to be broken.“
Kitty had no answer for that. She flashed him a smile of thanks for both her and her lady. Her mistress never even noticed that someone had held the door for them.
Lindsay noticed her. Her laughter embodied a joie de vivre he envied. Everything about her was as fresh as the spring day. Her perfume, the pink in her cheeks, the golden hair, the delicacy of the lace fichu that framed the curve of her neck. Her pelisse, the blue-green of her gown. Every single element of her perfection embedded itself in his mind in that one moment. He had yet to see her face, but was sure he would know her again, if only by the sound of her voice, for the smile that echoed in her words.
Lindsay’s steps took him in the same direction as them, and he followed her progress as she made her way toward Hanover Square. She paused at least three times to exchange greetings with other shoppers, two gentlemen and another woman. Not friends, mere acquaintances. And how did he know that? The way she stood. The way she moved, with self-conscious grace. The camaraderie she shared with her maid was absent. A natural caution, or did she have no friends in London?
Lindsay watched as she and Kitty considered the merits of a shop specializing in leather goods. Something for her husband, perhaps? For surely she was married. No one this lovely would remain unattached.
They took so long in consideration that by the time they moved on, Lindsay was only a few steps behind them. If he had been less of a gentleman he could have overheard their conversation.
Her laughter drifted back to him, and Lindsay decided that when he sold his commission…
He was distracted from his fantasy by the sound of a horse, moving at unsafe speed, racing down the crowded street. A moment later a rider came into view, mud-spattered and determined on losing not a moment.
Lindsay moved forward quickly, the battlefield instinct for survival still with him even if now it meant no more than protecting a lady’s gown from ruin. He took her by the shoulders, her back pressed against his chest, and placed himself between her and the mud that the idiot rider was casting up as he raced by.
He felt die delicacy of her bones beneath his fingers, die way her head would fit just below his chin, die orange spice scent of her perfume. And he felt her stiffen under his grip. Lindsay loosened his hold immediately. Even as she turned to him, people around them cried out in consternation. In mat instant the woman realized mat she had been rescued and not assaulted. While die rest of me street muttered, cursed and cried over mud-damaged domes, his lady turned to him.
„Thank you for the gallant sacrifice, Colonel.“ Even as she spoke, die practiced artifice disappeared, banished by a laugh mat lit her eyes and touched his heart.
He bowed to her. Those eyes, he thought; I could lose myself in them forever. „It is major, my lady. Major David Lindsay of me 28m Foot.“