"Oh." Perhaps he wasn't out of the fire yet after all, Remington decided. "And Letty said that I was lucky."
"You are. Very few men could have withstood being shot clean through the shoulder by a pistol ball, Mr. Steele."
"Only to end up in the home of Colonial Major," he pointed out.
"I do not believe that my father would have done anything differently than I have done, sir," she told him.
The morning breeze through the open window sent a chill over Remington's bare chest, and he was unable to repress a shiver. "I suppose finding a shirt that I could wear is out of the question -"
Laura seemed to hesitate for a moment before moving to a tallboy across the room and opening a drawer. She stood looking into the drawer for another moment before pulling out a white shirt that looked to have been freshly laundered. As he took it from her, Remington caught of whiff of lavender. "Here. You might as well use it."
He unfolded the shirt and put it onto his right arm, but just pulled it over his left shoulder. "That's better. Thank you. Who does it belong to?"
"My brother," she said, and Remington frowned.
"I seem to recall a young boy greeting me when I arrived - he was far too small for this shirt. You have two brothers?"
"No. My brother died - a year ago," she said slowly. "He served with Col. Buford."
Remington closed his eyes. "Oh damn," he said, immediately opening his eyes. "I'm sorry. For my language and for what happened to your brother." He could see the fear in her eyes at his words. "I was not there," he assured her. "I refused to serve with Tarleton," he said. He watched as her eyes closed and she took a deep breath.
"He was my - twin," she told him. "Laurence. My father's only son."
"Then I am doubly sorry. And I am even more impressed with your decision to take me in and see me back to health instead of simply leaving me to my fate as some might have done."
"I only did what any God-fearing person would have done," she told him as there was a knock on the door. Laura went to the door and opened it, admitting a plump, motherly woman whose face Remington vaguely seemed to recall from the last week. She was carrying a lap tray which held a bowl of the promised broth and some bread, which Laura took from her and brought over to the bed. "Mr. Remington Steele, my aunt, Mildred Holt Krebs."
"Charmed, Mrs. Krebs," he said, smiling as he lifted the spoon from the tray. "I seem to recall seeing your smile before - while I was so ill."
"Aunt Mildred sat with you whenever I was busy," Laura told him.
"Laura, your mother is asking for you," Mildred told her. "She's in the sitting room."
"Of course. Probably working on that - quilt again. Excuse me, Mr. Steele?"
"Only if you promise to return," he said, delighted when Laura gave him a shy smile.
"I will."
She left the door partially open, and Remington sat staring at it until Mildred said, "That broth is going to be cold if you don't eat it."
"Sorry," he apologized, taking a spoonful of the soup and bringing it to his mouth. "Your niece is a very remarkable young woman," he said.
"Yes. She is. I'm not sure what we would have done without her after her father and brother in law left to join General Washington."
"Her father is your brother?" he asked, eating more of the soup. "This is delicious."
"Letty is an excellent cook. Yes, Lucius is my brother. After my husband died ten years ago, he invited me to come and stay with him and his family. It was too late for me to have influence in Laura's sister's life. But I hope I've been a positive one for her."
"And for her brother?" he questioned, seeing her surprise. "Laura told me about him when she gave me this shirt."
"Of course. Laurence was very much like his father. He joined the army even before Lucius and Donald left."
"Donald?"
"Laura's brother in law. He's married to her sister Frances."
"I see." He spied three curious faces in the doorway, and drew on another memory from that first night. "And those three are -?"
Mildred followed the direction of his gaze. "Come here," she said to them. "Daniel, Melanie, and Laura Elizabeth Piper. My great nephew and nieces. Children, say hello to Mr. Steele."
"Hello, Mr. Steele," the children parroted in unison.
"You have very blue eyes," Melanie observed.
"Thank you. Yours are a lovely shade of brown. Just like your Aunt Laura's."
"Are you really a spy?" Daniel asked.
"A -"
"Mother says that you're a spy sent ahead of the rest of the British troops," he continued.
"No. I'm not a spy. I've left the Army and have no plans to return."
"Oh," Daniel said, looking slightly disappointed. "My father is in the Colonial Army," he said.
"I know. You should be proud of him."
"I am," Daniel said. "I wish I was old enough to go, too."
Remington glanced at Mildred's strained face and patted the bed. "Come here, Daniel. I'd like to talk to you for a moment."
Daniel glanced at his Aunt, who nodded her approval, before he jumped up onto the bed, nearly upsetting the tray. Mildred quickly came around to remove it, handing it to Melanie, asking her to take it downstairs.
Laura Beth decided to go with her to make sure she didn't drop it on the stairs.
"Daniel," Remington began, taking the boy's hand. "Going to war isn't something that a person should aspire to. I'm not sure that I can explain it to you so that you can understand, but -"
"I could get hurt, like you," Daniel said. "Or killed like - like Uncle Laurence."
"Yes. I was lucky. Your uncle - apparently your uncle wasn't. I had nothing to do with his death, but because I was a part of the same war, I can't help but feel somehow responsible for what happened to him and to every other man killed by the people I served with. Can you understand that?"
The boy looked thoughtful before he nodded. "I think so."
"Good." Letty entered the room a moment later. "Now. Why don't you go downstairs with your mother while Letty tends to my wounds?"
Daniel nodded again and got off of the bed, taking Mildred's hand as they left the room together. The last thing he saw was Mildred's grateful smile.
"He's a good lad," Remington said to Letty.
"Yes, sir, Mr. Steele. He is that. A bit solemn, but once you meet his mother, you'll understand the reason for it."
~~*~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
"Letty tells me that your patient is recovered," Abigail told Laura.
"His name is Remington Steele," she said. "He's not recovered, Mother. He is better, but he is still weak and needs to recuperate."
"I want him out of my son's room," Abigail declared. "He has no right be in this house -"
"Father would not agree with you, Mother. He had nothing to do with Laurence's death. He was with Cornwallis, not Tarleton. He's as sickened as we are by what happened."
"So *he* says," Frances declared. "Laura, what has come over you? You're not usually one to fall for a handsome face. Ever since this man appeared, you've been mooning over him -"
"I have not!" Laura denied hotly. "I'm concerned about him as I would be about any other human being. He will stay were he is for as long as necessary, and that is that."
Abigail rose from the brocade chair in which she'd been sitting, obviously furious. "I am your mother, and as long as your father is gone, this is my house."
"Father told me to look after things," Laura reminded her. "Even Aunt Mildred will vouch for the truth of that. He knew that I could be trusted to what needed to be done. Mother, I loved Laurence as much as - no, more than any of you. But we cannot continue to live as though he were going to walk through that door any moment. He is gone, and you must accept that." Having said her piece, Laura turned on her heel and left the room.
~~*~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
When Laura returned to Remington's room, she was surprised to see him standing near the foot of the bed, resting his right hand on the post. Letty had bandaged the shoulder again, and had apparently assisted him with putting the shirt on properly. There was also a sling around his neck, through which he had his left arm.
He smiled at her, and Laura found herself mesmerized by the combination of that smile and those blue eyes. "Letty thought that I needed to get up and move about," he told her, indicating the chamber pot in the corner. "She's gone now to find a shaving razor and brush for me to use."
She saw him falter slightly as he released the bedpost and moved quickly to support him. "I think you should sit down," she told him. "If you overdo, you'll end up flat on your back again," she warned, leading him to a chair near the window.
"Perhaps you're right," he agreed. "I've already imposed on your hospitality for long enough. As soon as Letty feels that I am capable of taking care of myself, I'll be moving along."
"There's no need to rush," Laura insisted. "You're more than welcome to stay as long as you like."
"I have a feeling that not everyone shares that belief, Miss Holt."
"Letty said something, didn't she?" Laura realized. "About my mother? And my sister?"
"I beg you not to blame her. I was curious. After all, I'm a former 'red coat' and it was they who killed your brother."
"My father left me in charge," she declared. "My mother and sister are incapable of taking care of this plantation and seeing that everyone is provided for."
"There are no servants other than Nate and Letty?" he asked.
"No. Most of them left to join the Army. Nate was born here. He says that he is too old to be out playing soldier."
"I wish that I had been," Remington sighed.
"Why did you join, if you hate it so much?"
"It was a way to get out of England," he explained.
"Were you in some kind of trouble?"
"No. My elder brother had managed to keep me from my rightful inheritance and had closed every other avenue that I might otherwise have taken."
"Your - elder brother?"
"Harrison." Laura gave him teasing smile, and he smiled as well. "Both his and mine are family names," he explained.
"Oh. So you joined the army to escape your brother?"
"I thought to come here and no matter what the outcome of the war - which Lord Cornwallis insisted would be over very quickly - remain here, either by receipt of a land-grant from his lordship for services rendered or if things went badly for the Crown, to find a place of my own and start over."
"But you were unable to wait."
He nodded, his eyes taking on the same distant look that she had seen in her father's whenever he would talk about his own military past. She wondered for a moment what horrors he was seeing, and then shook herself out of her reverie, knowing that it might be best for her *not* to know. "Entire fields, covered with the bodies of the dead and dying. Rivers turning red with blood -" he ran his right hand over his face, as if trying to clear away the images. "Once you've seen that, you're never the same again."
Laura's hand moved onto his shoulder in a comforting gesture. When he brought his up to cover it, he lifted his face toward her, those blue eyes haunted by the things he'd seen, silently begging her to help him to forget. She wasn't aware that she bent toward him until the sound of the door opening caused her to straighten and move away to the window, opening it wide and taking deep breaths of the fresh air.
Letty entered the room, carrying a washbasin, shaving mug and brush and straight razor, along with some clean towels. Laura saw the woman's knowing glance at her flushed face and quickly left the room, making an excuse that she needed to talk to Nate about something.
She went downstairs, out of the front doors, and onto the wide veranda, wrapping her arms around one of the wooden pillars that held up the cover over her head, hiding her heated face against the cool surface. It had been a long time since a man's presence had affected her in that way.
Frances had been wrong about her *choosing* to be an old maid. The only man she had ever wanted to marry had decided to go west, promising to send for her when he found a place and was settled. Two years later, word had come that he had been killed, attacked by a wild animal.
Upon hearing news of Jonathan's death, Laura had made up her mind to continue alone, without a helpmeet. Until that night a week before, when she had looked into a pair of blue eyes that had challenged all of her closely held plans.
But he wasn't going to stay. He'd said as much - as soon as he was well, he would continue west to seek his fortune. For one brief moment, she had allowed herself to begin to dream again. All because she had fallen under the spell of a pair of blue eyes.
Hearing footsteps behind her, Laura quickly wiped away the tears that she hadn't even realized were on her cheeks until that moment. "Are you okay, dear?" Mildred asked, moving to place an arm around her shoulders.
"No, Aunt Mildred. I'm not," she said. "He's not going to stay."
"You can't know that."
"He said as much. As soon as he is well enough, he plans to go west. Like - like -"
"Like Jonathan," Mildred finished, squeezing her shoulders. "Mr. Steele is quite different from your Mr. Smallwood."
"You think so?"
"Yes. Did you ask Mr. Smallwood to stay here instead of going west?"
"You know I did. He refused. Insisted that he had to prove himself."
"Mr. Steele has already proven his mettle. And not because he ran away. Because he left a cause that he knew was doomed to failure and refused to participate in the effort to continue."
"You truly believe we will win, don't you?"
"I have confidence in men like your father and General Washington. King George cannot hold onto this land. It is far too vast and wild. But we were discussing Mr. Steele. Have you asked Mr. Steele to stay here instead of moving on?"
"We barely know one another, Aunt. I can't -"
"Laura, have I ever told you how I met my husband?"
"No, I don't think so."
He was in the army with your father. Lucius brought Martin home with him after a campaign. We knew each other for barely three days before he asked my father for permission to ask for my hand." Her smile was tinged with sadness. "We were happy. Happier than two people had a right to be, until - until the typhoid took him. Don't let happiness escape if you can help it, Laura." She chewed on her lower lip. "There is something you should know about him, however."
"What?"
I overheard your sister talking to your mother. She recognized his name."
"Recognized it? How?"
"You forget that Frances and Donald were living in Philadelphia before the war began. It seems that Remington Steele's brother, Harrison Steele, is the Earl of Hempstead."
"His brother is an *Earl*?" Laura questioned.
"According to Frances, the current Earl is his *half*-brother. And they do not get along."
"No wonder he joined the Army to escape," Laura said, and quickly told her aunt what Remington had said about his reasons. "The Earl has refused to give him his due, so Remington had no choice but to come to America." Laura's expression fell. "Aunt Mildred, I cannot simply throw myself at the brother of an Earl."
"Why not? You haven't seen the way he looks at you when you aren't looking at him."
"How?"
"Like a man dying of thirst looking at all of the water he will never need," Mildred explained.
Laura suddenly smiled. "Mother would *hate* it."
"Yes, she probably would."
"Do you think that Father would -?"
"Your father loves you, Laura. And he would want you to be happy."
Laura took a deep breath, putting her shoulders back and her head up. "Then I will do it. Once he is well," she added, and Mildred shook her head in frustration.
"There are times when I wonder where the young woman who wears men's clothing disappears to, Laura, dear."
"She's here," Laura assured her aunt. "But the other Laura isn't quite as brave as she."
Letty came onto the veranda. "Miss Laura -"
"Yes, Letty?"
"Mr. Steele has finished shaving and Nate's going to help him with a bath - I believe he's strong enough to join you and the family for dinner this evening. But we're going to need some more supplies tomorrow."
"Very well," Laura said. "I'll go out tonight then."
Letty nodded and left them. "Laura, perhaps you should let Nate go -"
"There's been some Loyalist activity in the area, Aunt," Laura confided. "When I last went out, I barely escaped their confronting me. Nate would have been forced to leave the area as a free man. He is also easily recognizable to those who know this area. With Mr. Steele being here and still weak, I have no wish to bring Loyalists to my own doorstep."
"The Loyalists sense defeat and are becoming reckless," Mildred claimed. "I shall worry all night for your safety," she declared. "You are like a daughter to me, Laura. And if anything were to happen to you -"
"Nothing will happen, Aunt," Laura promised. "I should go up to my room and rest if I'm to be out all night again," she decided, and they started into the house.
"I think you should wear the brocade for dinner this evening," Mildred suggested.
Laura looked shocked. "My best gown?"
"To impress Mr. Steele," Mildred explained.
"I will not lead him to believe I am more than I am, Aunt. He either cares for me as I am, or he is not worth it."
Mildred smiled approvingly. "There is the Laura that I know so well."
~~*~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Remington stepped back from the full-length mirror, surveying his appearance. For the first time in what seemed ages, he felt almost civilized again. Whatever guilt he felt over the death of Laura's brother, he was lucky that the man had been of his own size. The clothes which Letty had retrieved from the armoire were a decent fit - if a bit out of style. But he seriously doubted anyone here would even care about anything except the fact that he was wearing the clothes of a dead man.
The bath and a shave had made him feel much better, but Letty insisted that if he was to be allowed downstairs this evening, he needed to regain his strength slowly, and that was best done in his room. After pacing the width of the room several times, he sat in the chair near the window before taking the unfinished letter to his Aunt Mary out of his pocket to read it again. His life in England already seemed a world removed from the here and how. He was no longer the same man who had refused to confront his brother and to stand up for what was his. Perhaps he could locate a solicitor here when the war was finished and sue Harrison for his inheritance.
The idea of remaining in this area was tempting, but Remington could not see himself offering for Laura's hand with nothing in his pockets. The penniless second son of an Earl wasn't worthy of someone as special as Laura Holt. He did not enjoy the idea of leaving her, but he had to make his fortune in this new land so that he could support her as she deserved to be supported.
He never heard the door open or that anyone had entered the room until he heard her voice, calling his name. "Mr. Steele?"
Remington blinked as he turned his head to find Laura standing uncertainly in the doorway. Rising to his feet, he smiled. "Forgive me. I was lost in thought."
She indicated the letter still in his hand. "Thinking about your aunt in Kent?" she asked.
"Yes. Mary was a second mother to me after mine died. It pains me that I shall never see again. Her health is not good. When she receives word that I was killed in battle -"
"You could write her - or I could," she told him.
He smiled down at her. "You would do that for me?"
"Yes," she answered without hesitation.
Remington shook his head, dismissing the idea. "Getting the letter to her would be impossible at present. Mail between here and England - is problematic at best."
"That is true," she sighed. "I'm sorry."
"You needn't be. It was my decision to take this path, even knowing that it would mean sorrow for those back in England who still care about me."
"Other than your aunt?" Laura questioned. "I'm sure you had a line of - friends who would be - distressed at news of your death."
Remington hid his smile as he heard the unasked question. "You're curious as to whether those friends included women."
"Of course not," she denied, gripping the bedpost. "I have no right to question such things -"
"I've known my share of beautiful women," Remington said. "But none of them have a penny's worth of your courage and compassion, Miss Laura. Most of them were only attracted to me because -"
"Because your brother is an Earl?" Laura questioned.
Remington's eyes went wide. "How did you know -?"
"My sister's husband, Donald, had business concerns in England before the war. Frances recognized your name."
"I see. I have no title - no money of my own."
"Other than the inheritance that you spoke of? The one that your brother refuses to give you?"
"Yes."
Laura looked thoughtful. "You know that you would be more than welcome to - remain here, even after the war. My sister and her family will be returning to Philadelphia with her husband. Father will have need of help to make the plantation a growing concern -"
Remington lifted her chin so that he could see into her eyes as he asked, "Would you like for me to stay, Miss Laura?"
"Yes, I believe that I would."
"I say again, I have no money. Nothing which to call my own."
"Get away from my daughter," a woman's voice ordered, causing Remington to drop his hand and step back as he turned to see Laura's mother standing in the doorway. "Is it not enough that you're here in this room, wearing my son's clothing?"
"Mother," Laura began, but Remington sent her a quick look, hoping that she would understand that he wanted to handle this on his own.
"Mrs. Holt," he said, bowing at the waist. "Remington Steele at your service, madam. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. And I can see from where your daughter got her beauty. I am most grateful for your hospitality and wish to offer my most sincere regrets for the death of your son, even though I never met him nor had anything whatsoever to do with his death."
Abigail Holt stood there, the wind quite taken out of her sails. "Don't try and charm me, young man," she finally said, but Remington could see a faint hint of a smile in her eyes. "I'm far too old to fall for cheap parlor tricks."
"Parlor tricks?" he repeated, pretending a slight offense at the accusation. "Not at all. I was being quite honest in my sympathy and gratitude. As for your being too old, if I had not been aware that you were Miss Holt's mother, I would have most surely have taken you for her sister," he declared, taking her hand and bowing again.
Laura's mother giggled like a schoolgirl at the compliment before carefully schooling her features, as if suddenly remembering that she was supposed to disapprove of him. "Really, Mr. Steele. You may be quite charming, sir, but you are still an interloper, and I shall not forget that fact."
"I do not expect you to do so, madam," Remington assured her. "I ask only that you give me a chance to prove myself to be more than you apparently believe me to be. That you not - prejudge me simply because I once wore the uniform of a country to which I have no desire to return."
Abigail blinked, obviously confused by his declaration. "Oh."
"Surely someone as lovely and charming as you can find it in your heart to see me simply as a man who wishes only to begin his life again, in this brave new world."
"Did you want something Mother?" Laura finally questioned, and Abigail frowned, as if she couldn't for the life of her recall why she had come into the room.
"Only to - tell you that Letty was looking for you a moment ago."
"Thank you," Laura said, slipping an arm through her mother's as she turned toward the door. "Why don't we go and find her, then?"
Remington smiled as the two women left his room, aware that Laura was using her mother as an excuse to leave his company before either of them could say more than they already had. For the first time in many years, Remington felt as though his life might be taking a turn for the better, and all because of a pair of beguiling dark eyes and an elfin smile.
TBC