Page 1 of The Baron Takes a Wife

Chapter One

Outside of Balaclava

Summer, 1855

He caught a soft singing on the edge of his consciousness in a language he had never heard before. A melody somewhere between a lullaby and a funeral dirge, it was light and airy but still tinged with a shade of sorrow. He slowly opened his eye. Something bright and warm filled his line of vision as he took in a figure of gold bathed in light. It was as if the figure was pulling him toward something. As their features grew more defined, he saw it was a woman silhouetted by the light, singing quietly to herself. Heaven, his mind told him, though he felt no jolt of panic or regret. He watched the woman he assumed to be an angel for several moments as she appeared not to notice him. He had never seen a woman like her before, certainly not in England, which only increased his sense that he was no longer of the world. Her hair was in some sort of braided crown, and, while brown, it seemed to be trimmed with gold. Her skin was darker than an English woman’s, a hue of rich bronze that complemented her hair. He couldn’t see her eyes, but for some reason, he was sure they would be gold of some form as well. Death might not be so bad if he could sit here and watch this golden angel for eternity. He must have made a sound, for the angel suddenly stopped singing and looked over at him.

“You are awake.”

Perhaps he wasn’t dead after all. The end of her song made him realize he was in rather substantial pain and that his vision was obscured on his right side. The angel walked over and inspected him carefully, her golden-brown eyes scanning his body. Up close, she was no less angelic, all lush curves and full lips, but he noticed one flaw to her golden beauty. On her left side, from her hairline through her eyebrow, almost to her eye, ran a jagged white scar against her dark skin. It rippled as she swallowed.

“You want to know where you are, what happened?”

He recognized that she was no angel but some kind of nurse as he registered her plain, faded dress and apron. However, she did not wear the distinct crimson cape of a British military nurse. She also spoke English with a heavy accent, with pauses between words, as if she was thinking through what she was saying next and trying to anticipate how to answer him. He could not place her accent. It could be from anywhere in the Ottoman Empire, as he was not very familiar with the region. He had not thought to come here before… He finally comprehended that he did not know where he was, and then panic really did begin to set in as his heart beat unsteadily. The last thing he remembered was—

“It will be all right. Here, drink this.”

The angel helped lift him from his pillow and pressed a cup to his lips. He was only able to swallow a small bit of the lukewarm liquid before he began to cough. She then took the cup away and helped him settle back down.

“You are in a hospital outside Balaclava. In Kadikoi.”

He remembered being in the trenches, then the charge, and then nothing. He looked at her, tilting his head, as he only now discerned that his vision was limited. He could still talk, even though his voice felt like a croak.

“My eye—”

“Your eye is not damaged. You are bandaged because you have a burn on your face.”

He tried to raise his hand to feel it but was too weak.

“I will go get a doctor.”

“No!” He realized he had almost growled his request. “Sorry. Will you sit with me? For just a moment.”

She looked at him, then gave him half a nod, sitting on the empty bed to the right of his own. He did not want to dwell on why it was empty.

“Would you talk to me?” He felt ridiculous as her eyes widened, and he went on quickly. “I haven’t heard anyone talk for the longest time. I can’t remember the last time.”

“I do not know how long you were asleep. Unconscious, I mean.” She looked away and back to him. “I am not a nurse. My friend, she has a hotel across the way. We come every day to help treat the soldiers.” She gestured around. They seemed to be in a larger room, or maybe a hut, sectioned off by shoddy cloth screens for privacy on his left side, but he could still see two unconscious men through a crack in the screen. He supposed he had been just like them.

“What should I talk of?” she asked. “My English is limited,” she added self-consciously.

“How did you come to know English?” Despite everything, David could not help his curiosity about this woman. As long as he leaned into his curiosity, perhaps he could distract himself from everything else.

“My father is…was a merchant in Dobruja. He wanted his children to learn the languages of trade. The English have been trading in the empire for many years.” She began speaking of her family, especially her merchant father, still pausing between words as if to think them through.

As she went on, he studied her. He had thought her angelic before, but when she spoke of her family, she lit up with a fire from within, a glow much more powerful than her outward beauty. He regarded the dimples on her cheeks and smiled a little to himself that he had come a long way to see this angel. That thought sent him back to his own painful situation. How long had he been unconscious? As the angel spoke, he tried to remember the last day he could recall. His name, he remembered his name. David Pierce. He was a peer, the fourth Baron of Grayston. Why had he joined the army? He was not a younger son. All of a sudden, the fit of idealism that drove him to purchase a commission washed over him, but then another memory became clearer. He remembered charging, then a cacophony of noise, pain, then nothing. The angel had noticed he was no longer listening to her.

“I went on too long. I really should fetch a doctor to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

He watched as a flash of something passed across her face. She looked at his legs and back to his eyes. She swallowed. Then, it quickly dawned on him. He had been so distracted by the golden angel that he did not realize he could not feel his legs.

****

“Is he?”

“He will be fine. He merely lost consciousness. His head wound is superficial, and he should wake up shortly. He’s lucky he’s been out so long he missed the madness after the battle.”