by Ella Quinn
“If you are ordered to go to Ghent, we shall pack the trunks and move.” The faint sound of artillery floated on the air, and she pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “I believe one of my questions may have an answer.”
He quickly ate the rest of his food and gulped his tea. “I should go.”
On his way out, he kissed her again. This time on her mouth. “Do not forget the ball.”
Elizabeth turned in surprise. “Do you think it will still be held?”
“Deuce if I know. If it isn’t, I’ll send word. Otherwise be ready by seven. We dine with the duke and duchess.”
Elizabeth placed two fingers on her lips as she watched Geoffrey stride out of the breakfast parlor. Both kisses had surprised her. The first because she had not been expecting it.
He had not attempted any intimacies since she had heard the conversation with his father. She had not been at all prepared for his kiss on her lips. She missed his kisses and caresses. Still, she must keep the long game in mind.
What, exactly, did his kissing her mean? Did they mean that her pose of being cool to him was working? She could think of no other reason for him to suddenly be so affectionate. That must be the reason. Geoffrey was finally beginning to truly care about her.
Elizabeth smiled to herself. It will not be long now.
She finished her breakfast and called for her bonnet, cloak, and gloves, and said to Preston, “I shall need Kenton as well.”
Vickers hurried down the stairs. “Do you want me to go with you, my lady?”
“Not this time. I wish to see what is going on, and I do not know how safe it will be.” After Vickers placed Elizabeth’s bonnet on her head, she drew on her gloves. “Which gown did you take out for the ball this evening?”
“The new pale pink gown with the silver netting,” Vickers said.
“Perfect.”
“You’ll be careful?” Her maid’s brow wrinkled and her lips were pursed.
“If there is any danger at all, I’ll come right back,” Elizabeth promised. “I will carry my pistol as well.”
Elizabeth and her footman strolled through the park. When they reached the other side, she was shocked at the number of carriages in the street. “And I thought yesterday was bad. Is everyone in Brussels evacuating?”
“Does seem like it, my lady,” her footman said.
“I’ve seen enough.” In a few minutes they were back at the house, and she called for Mrs. Robins to attend her in the back parlor.
“Yes, my lady.” The woman bobbed a curtsey.
“Please tell the cook that his lordship and I will be dining out this evening.” Elizabeth tapped her finger on the writing table deciding what she should tell her staff. “There is a good chance we will be departing soon. I want you to tell Preston. I shall notify Vickers. How much is unpacked?”
“Just what we required for a few days, my lady. It won’t be a problem to get everything ready again.”
Elizabeth did not know what the circumstances would be when they did leave, but it was better to keep their business to themselves. “Not a word to anyone else.”
“No, my lady.”
Once her housekeeper left, she decided to act as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. That, however, was easier said than done.
Fortunately, the day went more swiftly than she’d thought it would. She wrote letters to her aunt and brother, and then to her father. Then she wrote Geoffrey’s mother and grandmother, telling them the same thing she had told her family. They had arrived safely and he was busy with Sir Charles.
Before long it was time for Elizabeth to dress for her first ball as a married lady.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Geoffrey appeared only just in time to change before they were to depart.
As soon as Elizabeth had finished dressing, she went to his bedchamber and engaged in some very wifely behavior by watching while he tied his cravat.
Mayhap being a little nicer would help him along.
It only took three attempts before she could applaud his results. “That’s very elegant. What is it called?”
“The Throne d’Amour.” Nettle helped Geoffrey don a dark blue jacket of Bath suiting and handed him his watch and quizzing glass. The only fobs he wore. Offering her his arm, he said, “Shall we, my dear?”
The endearment took her aback for a moment. He was not in the habit of using sweet nothings, except “sweetheart,” and that was only when they were in bed.
She had been correct this morning. He was definitely improving. She hoped it would not be long before he could tell her he loved her.
Once they arrived at the Duchess of Richmond’s house on rue des Cendres, she and Geoffrey were announced and shown into a drawing room.
“Harrington.” The duchess came forward to greet them. “I am so pleased you were able to join us.” The lady then glanced at Elizabeth. “You must introduce me to your bride.”
Geoffrey released his hold on her arm so that she could curtsey. “Your grace, I am proud to introduce my wife, Elizabeth, the daughter of Lord Turley.”
“How lovely and so graceful.” The duchess smiled at her. “Harrington is lucky to have found you, my dear. Welcome to our home.”
“Thank you, your grace.” Elizabeth returned the smile. “I am glad we arrived in time to attend.”
Geoffrey had already claimed Elizabeth’s arm again, but her grace placed her hand on his other arm. “I shall introduce you to the others. But first, Harrington, you must tell me how your mother is doing. I know how she says she is going on, but one never knows.”
“She is very well, ma’am,” he replied. “When the conflict is successfully resolved, we have invited my parents to visit Paris next spring.”
“Excellent. Spring is the perfect time to enjoy Paris.” Her grace led them into the drawing room, making introductions as they went.
There were several foreign princes, including the Prince of Orange, and other foreign aristocrats as well. All of whom were either counts or barons, a smattering of other peers, but Elizabeth was disappointed that the Duke of Wellington was not present.
Geoffrey handed her a glass of wine. “These are the types of people we shall be associating with in Paris. What do you think?”
The question surprised her. She had expected him to praise her on her deportment—that is what he had done previously. “Naturally, they are all polite. I would have to get to know them better before I could tell you what I think of them.”
He saluted her with his wineglass. “Just so, my dear. An astute observation.”
Elizabeth tried not to smirk as a gentleman in a foreign uniform ogled her, and Geoffrey drew her a little closer. Definitely better.
A lady a little older than Elizabeth came up to them. “Harrington, Mama said you had arrived. I have not seen you since we were children.”
Geoffrey stared at the lady for a moment. “Georgy! I’m glad to see you here.” He released Elizabeth’s arm enough so that she could make a shallow curtsey. “My wife, Elizabeth.”
“My dear, Lady Georgiana Lennox, the third daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Richmond.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you.” The lady smiled warmly. “Congratulations on your marriage. I hope we will become good friends.”
“It is very nice to meet you as well, my lady.” Elizabeth hoped they would be friends as well. “How do you like Brussels?”
“We have been extremely gay here. I hope it will continue. But please, call me Georgy.”
“In that case, you must call me Elizabeth.”
They joined a group of Prussians, and the conversation turned to German.
Shortly after that dinner was announced. To Elizabeth’s delight, Geoffrey claimed the right of a newlywed to sit next to his bride. She had never heard of such a thing, but the duchess laughingly agreed.
The dinner was everything one would expect it to be before a grand ball and made even more special by the attention her husband paid to her,
selecting the choicest cuts of meat and fish. Always asking what Elizabeth preferred and if she would like wine or another libation.
Talk of the coming war was discouraged, and everyone acted as if nothing unusual was going on. It was too unreal.
Once they were in one of the series of rooms decorated for the ball, she whispered to Geoffrey, “I know that we should not be discussing the likelihood of a battle with Napoleon at dinner, but do you not think it strange that no one has mentioned it at all?”
“Perhaps they are purposely avoiding thinking about it.” He glanced around. “Many of the men here might not return.”
He was right. Elizabeth should have thought of that herself. And right now, she was exceedingly thankful her husband was not in the army. If there was time, she’d have his friends to dinner.
Soon the other guests began to arrive, and the rooms were filled with colorful silks, playing off the reds, greens, and blues of the officer’s uniforms.
She danced the first set with Geoffrey, and the second with Captain Lord Thomas Prendergast, and the third with Captain Lord William Toole, a friend of Geoffrey’s who had sought them out.
After that set, Geoffrey asked that she remain with him for the next set. As they partook of glasses of champagne, a tall dark gentleman in the uniform of the 95th Rifles strode up to them. “Lord Harrington?” Geoffrey nodded. “I’m Hawksworth. I’ve been told you’ve been looking for me.”
“I have indeed.” Geoffrey grinned. “I have a message from your brother Lord Septimius to write more often.” He looked at the man’s uniform. “I was told you were in the Life Guards.”
“When I had an opportunity to change units, I did,” Lord Hawksworth said.
Geoffrey glanced at her. “I’ve been remiss. My dear, may I present Colonel the Marquis of Hawksworth? My lord, my wife, Lady Harrington.”
“A pleasure, my lady.” His bow was almost courtly. “Would you do me the honor of standing up with me?”
“I would be delighted, my lord.” He led her out to dance as Lord John strode up to Geoffrey. Elizabeth wondered if her brother’s friend Captain Sutton was at the ball or her husband’s friend Major Cotton.
As she and Lord Hawksworth twirled by Georgy she was arguing with the young Lord Hay. Elizabeth wondered what had upset her husband’s old friend.
Later in the evening, Lord John requested a set. “We have been ordered to be ready to march at three in the morning.”
Elizabeth almost stumbled. “So soon?”
“Old Boney caught us out.” He grimaced. “Never fear, the duke will see us through.” His lordship immediately changed the conversation, and Elizabeth finally appreciated why no one was discussing the war. A gentleman who had become a friend might not survive. “Will you remain in Brussels?”
“Until we are ordered elsewhere,” she replied, but her mind was already thinking of how many soldiers here would not make it home.
The duchess had arranged entertainment in the form of some of the enlisted members of the Royal Highlanders and the 92nd Foot to dance reels and play their bagpipes. Geoffrey joined her to watch the performance.
When it ended he asked, “Have you heard anything?”
“Lord John said they were to be ready by three in the morning.”
Geoffrey looked at her with a troubled gaze. “That soon. Wellington hasn’t arrived yet.”
They had not long to wait as the duke arrived shortly before supper. He appeared to be in a mood to be pleased until the Prince of Orange strode up to him and began whispering in the duke’s ear.
Some of the older officers appeared worried, but the younger ones were full of energy.
“I cannot understand why young men wish to go to war,” Elizabeth whispered to Geoffrey.
“Generally, it’s only the ones who have never been.” He wrapped his arm around her waist, and she was thankful for the comfort.
As they went to supper, Lord John came up to them. “I’ll take my leave of you. It was good to see you again.”
Elizabeth held out her hand and he bowed over it. “You will be careful.”
“As much as I can be.” He gave a rueful smile. “Farewell.”
Geoffrey shook Lord John’s hand. “Good luck, and may God be with you and your men.”
Silent tears escaped from Elizabeth’s eyes. “I’d like to go home.”
“I should as well.” Geoffrey handed her his handkerchief and she accepted it gratefully.
On their way back to the house, they were surprised by the number of Belgians pouring out of their houses, embracing soldiers and wishing them well.
He stopped their carriage and they watched. The park was filled with men and equipment. The sound of drums filled the air. And wagons of all sorts passed by, heading south.
The next day dawned and silence had taken the place of the noise that accompanied the army’s march out of Brussels.
Geoffrey was on the heels of Vickers who brought Elizabeth’s tea. He was dressed and smelled of fresh air. “Have you already been out?”
“Yes.” Her bed dipped as he sat on it. “May I have a sip?”
She handed him the cup. “You may have a whole pot, if you wish. What were you doing?”
“I shall when we break our fast. Then I plan to get some sleep until someone tells me I’m needed.” He took a sip of tea and handed the cup back to her. “I changed and went back out to watch the troops leave.”
There would be a battle today, and she could do nothing. “I feel so useless. There must be something I can do.”
He pulled her into his arms. “If anyone can find a way to be of use, you will do it.”
She sank into him and for the first time in ages, put her arms around him and they remained that way for several long moments. “I’ll see you in the breakfast room.”
Geoffrey nuzzled her hair, and kissed her. Not a ravenous kiss, but one that was sweet and gentle. Maybe it was time to end her pretense, and tell him she loved him. Since arriving in Brussels he had changed. Surely he must return her affections. “I’ll see you downstairs.”
An hour or so later, as luck would have it, just as Elizabeth had finished giving her staff their instructions for the day and was searching for something to do, a message came for her from Georgy Lennox, one of the Duchess of Richmond’s daughters.
Dear Elizabeth,
I realize you do not know many people here, and I thought you might be interested joining a group of ladies who are making bandages for the wounded. We are meeting at the home of the Comtesse de Beaufort on rue de la Blanchisserie at ten this morning.
Your friend,
G. Lennox
Thank God. “The very thing I need at the moment,” she said to an empty room.
Before summoning Vickers, she wrote Geoffrey a note telling him where she was going and what she was doing. “Would you like to accompany me, or shall I have Kenton escort me to the countess’s home?”
“I’ll go, my lady,” Vickers said firmly. “I’d like to help as well.”
“I suppose they will need supplies.” They did not have much, but . . . “We can bring some of our sheets.”
“I’ll get them now.” Her maid went off.
By the time they arrived at the comtesse’s house, a group of ladies were already present, including Georgy, who greeted Elizabeth with a warm smile. “I’m so glad you came.”
“Thank you for your missive. I was wracking my brain for a way to assist.” She glanced around. “Where do you want these sheets?”
“Lady Harrington?” The comtesse came up to Elizabeth.
“Yes.”
“I am happy you are here. We met briefly last night. But you are new to our little community and it is impossible to meet many people for the first time and remember them all.”
“Thank you for understanding.” Elizabeth had a faint recollection of the woman and her husband. “We were, indeed, introduced last evening.”
She was introduced to the other ladies present. Some of
them had brought their maids as well and Vickers joined them. Soon Elizabeth was cutting strips of linen while others were scraping lint to ensure that no fabric could get into a wound and cause an infection.
Sometime post-noon, there was a faint rumble in the distance. Elizabeth stopped what she was doing. “Artillery.”
“Already?” a lady said in a trembling voice. “My husband told me the battle would not be until tomorrow.”
They worked mostly in silence for the next hour or so before breaking up to go home. Georgy walked with her to the rue Royale. “I shall most likely see you tomorrow.”
“I only pray that the bandages we made today are not needed.” A useless prayer, but the only one Elizabeth could think of.
“I as well.”
Geoffrey had still not returned to the house when she and Vickers arrived.
With her walking gown covered in lint, Elizabeth changed into a day dress and waited for him to come home. Fortunately, he arrived a few minutes later.
Striding into the parlor at the back of the house Elizabeth had claimed as a morning room, he kissed her. “Let me wash off my dirt, and I’ll be right down. When do we dine? I’m famished.”
For the first time that day, she laughed. “There is time for you to wash and have a glass of wine. Do you have news?”
“Yes. I’ll tell you what I know after I’ve washed and changed.”
Several minutes later, he was back, and she handed him a glass of claret. “We heard the guns today.”
“So did we all.” He drew her to the sofa and sat down beside her. “Napoleon surprised Wellington by attacking Charleroi. We had heard that, but today there was a battle at a place called Quatre Bras. There has been some pretty heavy fighting there.” He swallowed half his glass. “The king is in Alost. We will be leaving in the next few days. As soon as Napoleon is defeated, Sir Charles wants to get him to Paris as soon as possible.”
Elizabeth took a sip of her wine wishing she could gulp it down like her husband did. “Will we move to Alost?”