Major Lord David (12 page)

“How do you mean, Major?”

“Why, that we established that we like each other well
enough-before the interference of our fathers. And we are
neighbors-an unexpected boon, as I’d thought to have my
cousin Chas, who has an exceptional eye, pick out a promising piece of ground for me near Braughton. The timing would
seem opportune as well, for if I were not selling out and settling down just now, I should probably be looking to rejoin my
regiment.”

“The House Guards-the Coldstream regiment.”

“Yes” He smiled. “You spoke of the `circumstances’ as your
first reason. Is there another?”

She nodded. “My family. My brothers. You know that you do
not get on-”

“Get on!”

She thought he held back a laugh.

“My dear Miss Billie, any group of men would `get on’ with
considerably less inducement than your contentment” His
easy gallantry again made her blush. “I assure you, we would
find a way to do it.”

“You do not understand! Kit is now in-he is now in very
deep. With gentlemen like P.B. Marsh and Ronald Dumont”

“Mr. Christopher does not appear to think very clearly-if
he thinks at all.”

She set her shoulders. “That is precisely the kind of comment I find objectionable!”

“It is a fact. I have advised you before, Miss Billie, that you
should not distress yourself by taking any responsibility for
the folly of your brother.”

“You choose to be cavalier, to be too dismissive. Would you
not come to the aid of your own brother, Lord Hayden? He
has certainly come to yours”

“As you are so enamored of my brother, perhaps you should
much prefer to marry him.”

“You move too quickly to something absurd! It is astonishing! What has Lord Hayden to do with anything?”

“What has Christopher Caswell?”

She glared at him. “You asked for my reasons, Major. I
think perhaps I should not continue.”

“You mean there are more?” He appeared to realize he had
sounded rude, and briefly firmed his lips. “Let me simply say
first, that with regard to your brothers, there is every chance I
might in time grow to like them rather well. I share interests
with Edward-once I can master my envy that he might spend
his days reading. And apparently I share some experience with
your absent brother, the captain. With Morty”-he paused and
lifted his chin as though his collar chafed-“that may take some
time. But perhaps if he were to find contentment with Miss
Urquhart, he might forgive me my ancient trespass with Cora
Peebles.”

Wishing to hide her smile, Billie glanced quickly at the fire.

“As for Kit,” he continued, “someday you must enlighten
me as to why he holds me in such dislike.”

“Oh, that. I suspect Kit envies you. He had a great desire to
purchase colors, and my parents would not allow it. My mother would not even permit Kit to join the local militia. Not while
Jack was with the regulars. And after Jack sold out, with the
peace, Kit lost interest. Yes, I think, Major, that he must envy
you your adventures”

“‘Twould be an independence gained at considerable cost.
I have mentioned as much before.”

“Yes. But surely you understand it?”

He nodded. His gaze examined her closely. “I believe he
may also be jealous of your attentions, Miss Billie. Perhaps
he objects to the fact that I … distract you in any fashion.”

“If that were the case”-she smiled-“one might believe I
would have more influence over him. But I appear to have little.”
She sighed. “I cannot keep him from his gaming.”

The room had grown darker. The evening had set in. Aunt
Ephie still sat absorbed by her stitching at the hearth. Billie
wondered when the lamps had been lit; she had not noticed.
She thought it would have been welcome, and so very comfortable, to sit with David Trent and plan a future by firelight.
But instead of gratifying her heart’s desire, she meant to defeat it.

“You said you had more reasons,” he prompted, “for sending me on my way?”

“Yes, I-” She lowered her voice, not wishing Ephie to
hear. “I cannot help but notice your attentions to Miss Athington. I would not keep you from pursuing such an interest.”

To her astonishment, he laughed. “Attentions to Miss Athington!” he protested. “But that is nonsense! I have no interest in
Miss Athington. ‘Tis not chivalrous to say so, I know, but the
`attentions’ have all been on her part. My interest has been in
you alone.”

She swallowed. “But who knows who else might have drawn
your interest, had you not found yourself obligated to me?”

“That is a different argument and one I cannot address, as it
falls so entirely within the realm of conjecture. I did not set out with the notion of marrying this spring, Miss Billie. Indeed,
I’d had little time for entertaining the idea. But any concerns
for Miss Athington’s sensibilities are misplaced. Again, I
know I am not charitable, but my observation has been that
May Sanders and Charis Athington should not be counted
among your friends.”

“Because they are yours?”

For a moment he was silent, and rather white about the
mouth. She hadn’t meant to provoke him so; his readiness to
refute her had surprised her. Surely he had to be relieved that
she cried off? She wondered why the man could not simply be
grateful for her understanding and be done with it.

“That those two should be your friends, Miss Billie, surprises me,” he said loftily. “Because they are everything you
are not-vain, designing, and mean-spirited.”

He had again complimented her-rather grandly, as it
happened-but she scarcely had a second to enjoy what he’d
said, before he was adding, “If these are your reasons, I confess I do not find them insurmountable. I am still prepared to
honor the arrangement.”

” `Prepared’ ! My lord, I have tried every way I might to make
clear that I do not seek such a sacrifice from you! `Prepared’? Is
that why you persist, and present yourself with all your braid
glittering before my eye-because you treat this as a campaign? I suppose it has not occurred to you that I-I wish to
be free?”

She had never before seen him look so put out, not even at
the New Year’s unmasking. And, amazingly, his temper registered entirely in his gaze. Those striking blue eyes were suddenly darker and startlingly cold.

“That is another matter. You might have said so at once. I’d
have found your interest in entertaining Lord Grenby, or some
other nod-head, far more plausible than your ostensible reasons.

“You-you know you wish to be released as well.”

“You mistake me.” His searching gaze was difficult to bear.
“Is this punishment, then, for having been too forward?”

“It is not a punishment.”

“Oh, but it is,” he said darkly. Abruptly he bowed, very
gracefully and correctly. “Obliged to you, Miss Caswell. Miss
Caswell.” He nodded to Ephie. “I shall expect Sir Moreton to
be informed.” And while Billie still stood shaking, he left the
room. Seconds later, the front door closed heavily.

Billie stepped closer to the fire. Leaning one hand against
the mantel, she closed her eyes. The flames seemed to be giving off very little heat; she felt unexpectedly chilled. She had
never thought to see smiling, teasing, laughing David Trent so
grim. Yet surely his pride would recover shortly, and then he
would know himself grateful.

“Well…” Ephie said, reminding Billie of their silent audience. “I have always thought you a remarkably sensible girl.
Indeed, how could you be otherwise, with all those brothers?
And so honest and frank.” Busying herself in storing her
sewing, Ephie still had not looked up. “I’ve long known you’d
prefer half a dozen pursuits to tattling with debutantes or
hemming a stitch. Indeed, why should you be pressed to such
frippery, given your unusual maturity and wisdom?” Ephie’s
sharp brown gaze rose to meet hers accusingly. “But when a
man takes the time to be as candid as the major was just now
with you, and you haven’t the good sense to value it-well,
Miss Wilhelmina! I’ll warrant you’ll not find another like him!”

“I don’t expect to, Ephie,” she said wearily. Oddly, having
released him from his pledge, she felt the pledge all the more.

“He has offered twice now, Billie. Do you anticipate he shall
offer again?”

“I don’t know, Aunt. I would hope, after this, that he shan’t.”

“The more fool you! I know you, Billie. You probably believe you have acted in fairness. But ‘tis a misplaced sense of
fairness you have-as though you both play at some sport! The rules to which you take such exception were meant to
protect just such as you. And they protect the gentlemen as
well. Did it not occur to you that the major might now find
himself held up to ridicule? In any event, you are unlikely to
find the ton half as warm as it has been”

“He needn’t be ridiculed. He did not cry off. And nothing was
announced, nothing was agreed upon-there were no settlements. I have injured only myself.”

“You think that, do you? And what if he cared for you? The
two of you certainly bicker as though you were very close indeed.” Billie stood silently as Ephie’s lips pursed. “You had
best hope he regains his equanimity,” she offered sternly, “and
trots back here again tomorrow.”

But the next morning brought the news that Napoleon Bonaparte, having escaped his confinement on the island of Elba,
had landed on the south coast of France and meant to make
his triumphant way back to Paris. Billie knew then that if Major Lord David were to be “trotting back” anywhere, it would
most likely be to renewed conflict on the Continent, and not to
her own chilly doorstep.

She had released him; he did not feel released. Yet he would
have to go-he wished to go. As soon as he heard the news,
David knew he would be off to Brussels, where the army remained. He did not trouble to reflect on whether he’d have felt
honorbound to stay for Billie Caswell had she wished to wed;
she had said no, and the matter was ended. Though last night,
even in his spurned state, he had still thought to renew his offer at some later date, he now suspected any such effort would
have to be postponed until very much later indeed. Wellington
would need every soldier at hand-he would have difficulties
enough finding experience at such short notice. The most
seasoned regiments, veterans of the Peninsular campaign,
were not yet back from America. Others with experience had
been demobilized or had chosen half pay and gardening in
the counties.

The rest of the army was near Brussels, and Wellington,
who had just taken up the post of Ambassador to the Congress
of Vienna, would be turning right around to reach his forces.

There was no question in David’s mind that Wellington
would be entreated once more to lead Britain and the allies.
There was also no question that Parliament would vote for
war. Bonaparte had not stayed caged on Elba-he would not
stay caged within France. He could not be trusted to live at
peace with his former enemies.

David supposed it fortuitous that the Congress still met in Vienna, assuring a quick, united reaction from the rest of Europe. Indeed, he could not think it wise of Bonaparte to return
at such a moment, while the diplomats remained in session
and communication was easy. But perhaps the emperor understood human nature, and politics, better than most; his return
could only be unwise if it were met with vigorous, united
force-an end that could prove well beyond the proudly posturing parties in Vienna.

He had no clue when hostilities would open. But David
knew he would be leaving soon. For the longer Bonaparte
went unchallenged, the larger the army he would raise and retrain, and the greater the threat to all that had been gained
over so many years of sacrifice.

After a visit to barracks, to check on any further news and
to apply himself to an hour’s worth of correspondenceascertaining companions’ plans and recalling his batman,
Barton, from leave-David stopped in to see his brother at
White’s. Hayden’s friends, the ubiquitous Lords Demarest
and Knowles and the soon-to-be-wed George Gillen, were
happily arranged about one of the club’s card tables, on the
verge of attacking their whist hands. But Hayden waved the
others away as David approached.

“D’you know,” Hayden said, leaning back in his seat as
he carefully examined David’s face, “last season held certain
attractions. But this one is proving ticklish.” He sighed. “I
suppose they are all annoying in their fashion, though I do
wish I’d departed for my tour last fall.” He glanced down at
his hand of cards. “When d’you go?”

David had to laugh. “You sound as though I am rather tediously contemplating an appointment with my tailor, Myles.”
At his brother’s shrug he added, “I’ve been down to barracks.
But my departure shall take some time to determine. Our
forces in the Netherlands will of course be mobilized. And ‘tis
a foregone conclusion that Wellington must return from Vienna to oversee them. Word must have reached Vienna by now. Other than that-” It was his turn to shrug. “What are you
thinking?”