The Restless Viscountess

Chapter 4

“There is no better way of life in the world than that of the Australian. I firmly believe this. The grumbling, growling, cursing, profane, laughing, beer drinking, abusive, loyal-to-his-mates Australian is one of the few free men left on this earth. He fears no one, crawls to no one, bludges on no one, and acknowledges no master. Learn his way. Learn his language. Get yourself accepted as one of him; and you will enter a world that you never dreamed existed. And once you have entered it, you will never leave it.” John O'Grady

Happy Australia Day everyone!

---

Chapter Four

“We are to stay in Hertfordshire for the entire summer?” complained Simon’s second, Major John Bartlett, quietly. “Would you not rather spend the summer by the seaside?” Major Bartlett grinned wickedly. “There are plenty of young ladies that summer by the sea.”

Simon rolled his eyes. “I take my men where I am told, Major,” he chided comically. Simon would, indeed, rather spend his summer by the sea, but his orders were to take his men to Hertfordshire.

His men had marched into the busy Hertfordshire village to the cheers and waving of every townsman and woman. Simon felt proud to lead his regiment of redcoats. There was great glory in wearing the uniform of a British officer, and even greater glory in defending one’s home from threats, as Simon and his men had done many times before.

They had fought in many battles, seen much blood, but they had always come away as victors. Simon had collected great riches from his victories, and he was always willing to share the spoils with his comrades.

Major Bartlett smirked. “Well then, I suppose I must acquaint myself with the Hertfordshire girls.” He retrieved a favour from his pocket, one that had been thrown at him as they had marched into town. With the handkerchief, he polished one of his brass buttons. “I suppose I should find the owner of this lovely favour. I suppose I should thank her properly.” Major Bartlett grinned.

Simon smirked. Several favours had been thrown at him also, but he did not think it right to collect them while marching. He knew, though, that if he walked into one of the many assemblies that would be held during the summer that he would not want for partners. Simon had been gifted with a handsome face, one that women enjoyed. Simon had but to smile at a woman, and she was willing to do whatever he wished.

Major Bartlett’s grin suddenly disappeared. He gasped and immediately went for his pistol, crying out. Simon spun around, needing to assess whatever threat his second had spotted.

The threat was much closer than Simon had realised. All he saw was the barrel of a Brunswick rifle pointed directly at his face from some ten feet away. Before his world went black, he heard the deafening sound of a shot.  

 

Simon awoke, gasping, and covered in sweat. It was a nightmare that he had experienced a thousand times before. The minutes before he was shot were burned into his mind. While he did not remember being hit, he remembered the months of agony that followed it.

That day was the worst day of his life, and not only for obvious reasons. It was the day that he learned that he had failed as a leader, though none of his comrades could see it. Instead, he was awarded medals for valour and service to the Crown, not that he deserved them.

Simon suddenly realised that he was not alone in his bedroom. Cowered in the corner of the room were his young niece and nephew. They had dimmed their lamp to the point of a faint glow. They were watching him fearfully.