Major Lord David (14 page)

“You knew that `Billie’ Caswell was a girl?”

She glanced quickly and reprovingly across at him. “But of
course!” Her attention returned to the activity of parading vehicles around them. “Such early spirit can become too bold,”
she mused aloud, “rude and rough. What in a child is mere
frolic grows to the wildness of the hoyden, to much that is forward, immodest, and ill-mannered-”

“She is none of these,” David interrupted. “You know she is
not”

His grandmere turned again to him with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes, I know that she is not. Miss Billie Caswell is now a
lovely lady, who has most pleasing manners and plays the piano comme un ange-if Hayden is to be believed.”

“Hayden told you of her playing?”

“You think your brother hasn’t the ear?”

“I did not think he troubled to observe”

“Your brother always observes,” she said wryly. “He very
seldom acts. But I believe he may have some interest in Miss
Billie.”

“Hayden?”

Grandmere pursed her lips as she stared repressively at
him. “Take care, my so blind David, that you do not lose your
precious Billie. Do you not hear yourself? You are the tinderbox! Monsieur Bonaparte interferes, yes. It is very bad of
him. But you must not let him interfere in all! You have not
given this the thought you should-and yet you have had
months. You have let resentment rule your heart. No wonder
that Miss Billie sends you away and entertains pretty Lord
Grenby, when you make so obvious the surly sacrifice!”

As he still clasped one of his grandmother’s hands, he gently rubbed his thumb across the back of her soft glove. “I see
I should have been wiser,” he said at last. “‘Tis why I shall
never be a general. I do not think of all that I should.”

“You may yet be a general, mon brave, though I believe you
think too much for it!” She smiled. “No, David, if anything
shall stop you, it will be that you are too kind.”

“You will regret saying that some day, Grandmere.” He
laughed, leaning to kiss her thin cheek. “When you wish to
tease me.”

“I shall not regret. Where one loves, one does not regret.
But yes! You must give me many more chances to tease you!”
And for the remainder of their drive, as they spoke in the
French that was her preference, her high spirits and enthusiasm for the gayest of company kept her happily engaged with
those they encountered-and focused on less troubling matters.

The anxiety in town that weekend lacked precedent. Despite Parliament’s vote on Friday to impose the widely unpopular Corn Laws, despite the end of the hubbub and protests
associated with that issue, no relief was in sight, for the news
of Bonaparte’s escape and advance toward Paris swamped all
else.

Billie had been too young to recall the nation’s fear of
France at the turn of the century, when an invasion across the
Channel seemed imminent. She had nothing to which to
compare the current preparations for war. But such preparations now appeared all-encompassing. In church that Sunday
the congregation was exhorted to hold fast and true in the trying times ahead-all the best of advice, Billie was certain,
but she could only dwell on the fact that David Trent did not
return to her.

She had delayed writing to her father, convinced as she was
that there was no real harm in ignoring her broken engagement. Since there had been no public announcement of intentions, she reasoned that no assurance of a subsequent break
needed to be made. Such an argument seemed entirely logical,
at least as an excuse for not rushing to put pen to paper. And
her father, in any event, would be most concerned about Kit.

With the first news, her brother had been wild with excitement, threatening to join up at once. But his situation was
such that he had no funds to purchase colors. From what Bil lie had heard, he owed money to half the ton. And their father
would never consent to an additional investment. For the first
time Billie felt grateful that Kit was so thoroughly beholden
to his creditors-if it kept him away from the Continent and
from danger.

The world moved with breathtaking speed. All thought of
an idle, frivolous season had been set aside to prepare for confrontation. There was yet more to be endured, in as cool and
composed a manner as possible. Yet it was difficult, as Billie
discovered, to feel entirely cool and composed when one’s
brother strolled into the drawing room in the newly issued
uniform of an infantry officer.

“Kit! What have you done?”

“Rather obvious, wouldn’t you say, Billie?” He was beaming
with pride and exhilaration. “I’ve purchased a commission-as
a lowly lieutenant, to be sure. But I’m an officer, nonetheless,
in the Fifty-second. Alan Athington’s regiment.”

“Are you mad, Kit? How can you afford such a thing?”

“Why, I thought you’d be pleased for me!” And Billie found
his astonishment almost as provoking as his ill-considered action. “Old Trahearne made it possible-by making me the
loan. He’s all for battling Bonaparte. I know I ought to pay off
the IOUs to Dumont, but there’s time enough for that later.
Dumont will continue to stake me. He is the best friend in the
world.”

“Friend!” Billie barely kept her voice level. “A `friend’
would never have encouraged you to play so deep to begin
with. And the truest of gentlemen would have folded a good
hand rather than press you. I know that much, Kit. Mr. Dumont
imposes upon you-upon us-for some purpose of his own.
He’s been associated with much that’s unpleasant, and …
and I understand his family is most disappointed in him. And
now you put your life at risk!”

Kit’s features had set stubbornly. “I don’t see why you
should be so hard on Dumont. Even if he’s out a bit of blunt at the moment, he knows I’ve wanted to join up. None of the
family could see it,” he charged. “All of you have chosen to
ignore my wishes-as usual.”

“For your own good, Kit. You’ve chosen one foolish course
after another-”

“Only because I wasn’t let to do what I wanted! You know
that, Billie. I thought you understood.” As she worried her
lower lip, he added, “And Dumont isn’t the loathsome fellow
you make him. He tells me how much he esteems you.”

“‘Esteems’ me? He `esteems’ my portion!”

“Well”-Kit dared smile-“it is something to consider,
isn’t it? Do not fool yourself that your smart Major Trent
hasn’t thought of it!”

“I think I can safely claim that he hasn’t! It would never
signify. Lord David may not have what his brother, Hayden,
has, but he will most certainly be well set up”

“Then why did he ever take to soldiering?”

“I-I haven’t a clue. Perhaps, like you, he prefers to strut
about in scarlet! Oh, I think you are all mad!” That she should
then, inexplicably, choose to cry startled both of them.

“Such stuff, Billie!” Kit scoffed, wrinkling his nose at her,
as though he were still thirteen. “If anything, I’d have thought
you’d want to come with me!”

“Perhaps I do,” she asserted, raising her chin and refusing
to dab at her damp eyes. “But I know that I cannot. I must stay
with Aunt Ephie and Morty, who will stick to Miss Urquhart.
My days of adventure are past now, Kit.”

His light brown eyes, so like her own, examined her
minutely. “You and Ephie might locate to Brussels for the season. Many families plan to follow the troops. Athington’s said
his company will probably be off to Ostend within days. And
Miss Athington and her parents will follow him to Brussels.”

“Will they?” Billie echoed faintly. “She did not tell me”

“Oh, half the ton will be in Brussels. ‘Twill be the liveliest place in the world. And what sport-to see Boney take his
lickings!”

Such ill-reasoned ardor only further incensed her.

“You do not know what you are about,” she managed
steadily. “I am surprised that your colonel-that they would
even think of sending someone so green! But it’s too late for
me-or for Father-to stop you, and so I must wish you well.
You must try to-try to think, Kit! Oh, was I ever as headstrong as you are? No wonder he believes me-”

When she stopped, Kit’s look was puzzled, but he smiled
at her continued silence. “You know I love you, Billie,” he
claimed easily.

“Do you?” She sighed. “I suspect ‘tis rather that you know
I love you-and you play upon it. You’ve been indulged, Kit,
and I fear it will not serve you well.”

“Whatever!” he pronounced, proudly raising his chin. “I’m
happy now. If you must fret, fret over whom you might choose
to marry-now that Trent will be leaving. If you will not have
Dumont, the bets are on Grenby, or Willard Trahearne”

“The bets? I cannot find such attention flattering. And Mr.
Trahearne is a decade older than Papa, Kit. Would you truly
have me consider such a man?”

“I’ve seen his property at Fairways. I can well imagine you
mistress of such a place, Billie. And Grenby isn’t bad eitherthough one can’t help wishing to scuff him up a bit.”
“

She smiled. Lord Grenby was indeed always turned out as
neatly as a new penny.

.,I’m just pleased Trent will be well out of the running,” Kit
continued. “Almost anyone but David Trent might do”

“Why, Kit?” she asked frankly. “Why have you always disliked him so?”

“Maybe because you’ve always liked him so-for no reason I could ever discover. He always had at you worse than
any of the rest of us”

“I plagued him. And he thought me a boy. I certainly acted
like one.”

“Well, then, he’s blind as well as dim-witted, and I shall be
glad never to see him again.”

“Don’t-don’t say so, Kit. Not now. Not when there is so
much at stake.”

Kit shrugged. “What is he to me anyway? I shan’t give him
another thought. Now kiss me, Billie, for I won’t be back to
see you for at least another two weeks.”

She gave him a swift peck on the cheek and saw him on his
way, then searched out her aunt, to convey Kit’s news. Ephie
thankfully refrained from much comment, but only because
they were due to attend the Birdwistles’ ball that night, and
they had little time to ready themselves.

The evening’s event proved remarkable for its fierce dedication to pleasure. Though a scarcely acknowledged thread of
tension ran through the company, Billie counted no trembling
lips or tearful glances among the elegant guests at Twyla
Birdwistle’s come out. And though Billie too readily recalled
her Shakespeare, and the forebodings associated with the ides
of March, she willfully smothered any agitation-and failed
to spot it in others.

As she and Ephie were announced and made their way into
the gaily decorated ballroom, one of the largest and most
beautifully adorned rooms in town, Billie soon attracted the
attentions of eager Lord Grenby and several other faithful
swains. But Lord David was not to be spotted amid the crowd
of uniformed officers taking time to attend the ball.

She had not seen him in six momentous days. Indeed, as
she attempted to share in the lighthearted banter about her,
she kept one expectant eye upon the door.

“Do you watch for Lord David?” Charis asked her, so cheerfully that Billie dearly wished she might smite her. “I hear he
has already left for Dover,” her tormentor continued callously.
“I had it from my brother Alan on Monday.”

“I was not watching for him,” Billie lied, “but for Lord
Grenby’s return with my punch.”

Charis’ grin was close to a smirk. “Perhaps you have not
heard, Miss Caswell, that I shall be moving with my family to
Brussels for the spring.”

“I had heard, Miss Athington. Where shall you stay?”

“Papa has leased a house just one block from the Place
Royale. We shall be able to see the troops parade from our
front parlor!”

“How happy for you. You are not concerned about your
brother-and the coming confrontation?”

“Oh, Alan assures us that it will probably come to naught.
We must be ready, but Bonaparte will never regain his former support. And even if he does, why should he attack the
allies?” She laughed. “You mustn’t look so serious, Miss
Billie.”

“I still think it might be wise of you, Miss Athington, to
consider-when you pack your trunks-that you might at
some point need to evacuate”

“To evacuate? How droll! It shan’t prove at all dangerous.
Why, much of London society shall be taking up residence in
Brussels. Easily half the city shall be English, as Papa has it.”

“One might then feel quite at home when under siege, I
suppose,” Billie said.

Charis laughed. “You are most amusing, Miss Billie.”

“I don’t mean to be. Perhaps I play Cassandra this evening
and warn you that Bonaparte has always moved with secrecy
and swiftness. Witness his recent escape from Elba.”

“Well said, Miss Caswell,” Lord Grenby remarked, coming
up to hand her a glass of lemonade. “We mustn’t be too confident” But Grenby’s wide and self-consciously attractive smile
was supremely confident.

Charis Athington’s gaze narrowed upon them. “You both
might consider joining the society in Brussels,” she proposed.
“London is likely to be left very dull.”