SHERIDAN GRANT

He caught himself, though, and straightened, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin as he addressed the man before him - not valet, but private, soldier, aide-de-camp. “When do you propose this leave-taking, Grant?” he clipped. “This escorting of Sher… I mean, Miss Grant back to her father?” His head cocked slightly to the side, his lips pursed. “Are you requesting permission to depart straight away, or….?”

His voice trailed off as did his thoughts. Or will you stay… will… will Sheridan stay? Will she stay beside me? Oh, Christ, please say to me that she will stay, at least… at least until this…. this day is over.

Sean was always ready to give more than one hundred percent when it came to doing things. There were times where he would commit mistakes, as everyone does, but he learns from it and uses that knowledge and experience to help himself and others. Serving as an aide-de-camp was a stepping stone to something bigger, and he hoped that one day he could be someone with a rank too.

“Well Sir, we can’t go tomorrow--it’s a Sunday and it’s bad luck to travel on a Sunday. Monday mornin’ we’ll be headin’ home to our parents; I’ll stay for a half-day to rest and replenish my supplies before headin’ back here.”

He knew how Sherry felt for Ansgar, and maybe he wanted to give them some time to say goodbye before they would be separated. Some part of him wanted to see if his superior’s feelings for his sister were real; Sean knew some of the young men in their village had intentions of wooing his sister only to break her heart, but then--Sherry knew how to handle them herself. He would have to talk to her on the way home, ask about things to see if she felt deeply for the man before him, and honestly, Sean felt like Ansgar was worthy of his sister, but then his opinion wasn’t the final say.

“Good luck today Sir--just know that me and some of the other lads are rootin’ for you.”

He growled and slammed his hand down on the vanity, the offending black length of silk clutched in his hand. He closed his eyes for a moment and filled his lungs with a long, deep breath, letting it back out slowly, deliberately. He nodded, feeling Grant’s presence still behind him, hearing the sound of Grant’s nervous breaths and slight rustling of his uniform. 

With another, resigned nod, he turned, flipping the cloth around his neck. He did not tie it, but left it there to dangle. He lifted his chin and squared his shoulders to regain whatever dignity he could. “What is it you want, Grant?” he clipped. “Unless it is a matter of life or death, I would suggest… it wait. I am…,” he paused, a shimmer of fear passing over his stoic features, as his fingers fiddled with the ragged end of the cloth, “I am quite… quite mentally indisposed if you must know. I am uncertain I can properly address your request at the moment, Private.”

Admitting as such was a strange thing, especially to a soldier the rank of Sean Grant. But Ansgar trusted Sean – felt the boy was, by way of his relation to Sheridan, almost… just almost… family. 

“I will make it quick sir, I would like to ask permission if I can take my sister home, I do not trust anyone else to escort her.”

He knew how some of the men thought of deserting, especially after what happened. Most of them have never seen battle, and so did Sean, but he had a duty and it was in the military he found his purpose. He only hoped that one day he would rise through the ranks and be someone great--someone like Major Martinsson.

There was talk about Major Martinsson, and he did not want to say anything until he was confided in. the younger soldier remembered the advice his mother gave him--to never give advice or counsel unless asked for, and he would not do so now, out of respect.

“I will be back as soon as I know she’s home safe.” he assured Ansgar, stepping back as he finished tying the cravat. “And I do quite miss my mother and father--coming home for a moment would assure them that I’m all right.”

“Sheridan,” he said. “I… I understand. I understand that whatever shall come may not be pleasant, and I understand your wish to return home.” He nodded, a moue of hurt disappointment flashing across his features. “If it comes to that, to anything… untoward of my fate… I shall see you safe back in your father’s arms as you wish it.”

He stood from the bed, gathering up his stockings and his silver gorget, belt, and crimson coat. He shimmied into his linen shirt and pulled his britches up over his waist, fastening the buttons with one deft hand. After quickly slipping his feet into his boots, he turned. 

His eyes roved with care over Sheridan’s body, her tousled hair, her flushed face; taking in every detail of her - every line, every plane, every angle, every shadow he committed to his memory. 

Just in case.

“Your brother,” he said, his voice a reedy whisper. “I shall leave it to him whether he accompanies me or not. But in truth, I would rather have him home with you. For if you cannot be with me…,” he swallowed, his throat suddenly full, his guts churning like a tangle of eels, “I would rather Sean be by your side as your protector.”

He stared at her in silence for a long moment, and then, without speaking, wrapped his hand around the knob, and slowly, quietly, pulled the door open.

The thought of her twin made her smile a little, and she wondered then what he was doing now, if he was resting or doing something productive. He was born to do this, to be an officer, and she hoped one day he would rise in rank just like Ansgar.

Sherry wished at that moment, as she watched him look at her that time would just stop, or that she had a way of changing things--so that she could make him stay, and make her stay with him. The thought of their impending separation was something she was mentally trying to prepare for. It was something she had a feeling she would no get used to after having spent a considerable amount of time with him.

Her eyes bathed him with love as their gazes met, and Sherry knew she should have said or done something, but she felt as if her feet had grown roots and she could not move at all. Then the thought crept up on her, settled in her mind the way the small bits of dust settled on the floor she stood on. It was the fear that this romance they had was something that was temporary, and that once they were separated their feelings for each other would dwindle over time.

But for now she shook that thought away, preparing herself for the day ahead, putting on her best dress and heading out to see her brother, explaining that she thought it was time for her to go home, back to their family until she was ready again to join them. Naturally, he would not let her go back alone, and he sought out Ansgar, just to ask for permission.

“Excuse me Sir,” he greeted, raising his hand to his forehead in a quick salute. “If you are not busy, may I have a quick word, to ask permission for something personal.”