Author's note: Neither Bernard Cornwell nor the series told us what happened when the cameras faded to black and we came back from commercial to find the deed done. So I explore that in this story.
As always the characters belong to Bernard Cornwell and the delightful portrayal of this man by gifted actor Sean Bean....
~SHARPE'S LETTERS~
~CHAPTER ONE~
FOUR MONTHS AFTER WATERLOO
---Lucille's Farm in Normandy
Richard Sharpe was almost content, at last having found some peace in his life. The war with against Napoleon had been a turbulent life-changing experience. Aside from him and Harper, none of the chosen men remained. From the day he'd save Wellington's life and was bumped from Sergeant to Leuitenant, he'd been Lord Wellington's pawn, a piece to be cast forward with confidence when the need arose, but otherwise he was expected move along just like everyone else, almost always under someone else's command.
Then finally in the end at Waterloo, having been made Colonel with Harper at his side, Wellington let him lead the men as they drove Bonaparte from the field of battle. Back up and over the hill.
Still there were things that came from his advancement through the ranks that he would never be sorry for, and one mistake he would always regret.
Teresa—even now, she was the greatest joy he'd ever known and the deepest sorrow. He knew without a doubt had she lived they would be together even now. The passion and love they had shared. Maybe more children, maybe a son.
And little Antonia, their daughter, his life as an officer preventing him from being a proper father to the little girl he loved so desperately from a distance. He'd only seen her, held her, hugged her little body to him the one last time right after Teresa died. Could he see her, even now, after so long a time, without the loss of Teresa ripping his heart open again?
Given Teresa's family's opinion of the French, they certainly would not allow him to take the child now that he was with Lucille. And then his mistake and all the money he'd worked so hard for so that he could see that Antonia was well-placed was still gone, courtesy of his whoring bitch of a wife—soon to be ex-wif—and her late lover John Rosendale. The note the bastard had given him for repayment was not worth the paper it was written on.
God how he hated her now. He knew how distressing it must have been to Jane that he'd cleared his name, but damned if he were going to let them accuse him falsely and be executed just to keep from inconveniencing his thieving, whoring wife.
He'd finished his military career as a Colonel, his honorable record intact.
He couldn't believe her nerve. After Lord Rosendale died at Waterloo, Jane had the audacity to write to him, a pathetic whining letter, all about how sorry she was; that she'd been wrong. She had even claimed to still love him; and would please he consider taking her back? He knew her game; with Rosendale gone a reconciliation would be her only shot at respectability. He'd sought legal counsel and had filed for divorce on the grounds of her adulterous relationship with Rosendale.
He'd written her back and told her he still expected his money back, reminding her that Harper had seen her and her lover in bed, and Patrick would testify as such if necessary and if she fought the divorce he'd see that the scandal surrounding her would reach proportions she'd never dreamed of.
He would publicly proclaim her the whore he felt she was now, even louder than he already had when he'd confronted both her and Rosendale at that big ball. He washing his hands free of her, and if she ever came within arms reach of him again it was quite likely he'd kill her—well at least that's what his letter had implied. He wouldn't, not because he wouldn't like to, but she wasn't worth dying for, but she didn't need to know that, did she? If she spent the rest of her life jumping at shadows because she feared him it was just fine with him.
***
He heard his name, and glanced up, Lucille was sitting on the window sill, as she often did, just watching him work. "Come Richard, lunch is ready."
She was the peace in his life now, and the reason he was seeking the divorce from Jane. Her belly swelled with his child and he wanted to marry her before the baby came.
More and more little Antonia filled his thoughts. The coming baby made him miss her, want to know her, for her to know him. He wanted her with him; after all he was her father.
He let the axe fall to the ground, wiping the sweat from his brow before going inside to lunch. He ate quietly, his mind still wandering. Teresa's family be damned—Antonia was his child, and he wanted her with him. However he had to discuss it with Lucille before he made any move. He had not told her about Antonia yet.
"Richard?" Her fingers came to rest on his hand, concern in her voice, "What is troubling you?"
He squeezed her fingers, unable for the moment to meet her gaze. "I have not been completely honest with you."
"It is to be expected Richard, you were a soldier. I am sure there are lots of things you have not told me."
"That may be true, but this has nothing to do with soldiering. And I hope you will not object to what I wish to do about it."
She could see his burden was heavy. "Just tell me Richard."
He raised his green gaze to meet her dark brown eyes. "I have a daughter…."