"Well, they do have to defeat our own armies first," Judith pointed out demurely. "One mustn't presume disaster too quickly."
"Indeed not," the stout wife of a colonel put in. "You're quite right, Miss Davenport. Our men need our support, not whining snivels. Of course they'll defeat Boney."
"Of course," Judith agreed. "No purpose is served by panic."
Thus chastised, the countess and the brown mouse fell into an injured silence.
"There'll.be a run on horses once the battle's joined," another woman remarked calmly. "Alfred's hidden away our carriage horses in a stable outside the city. Once he's left for the front, he's instructed me to leave the city. Just in case," she added, with a smile at Judith and the colonel's wife. "Sensible people make provision for every eventuality."
"You wouldn't find me leaving Colonel Douglas in the heat of battle," Colonel Douglas's wife declared, disappearing behind the commode screen, her voice rising above the stiff rustlings of her taffeta skirts. "It's the duty of a soldier's wife to wait behind the lines and the heartbreak of a soldier's wife to wait in fear. I've been at the colonel's side through every battle on the Peninsula and I'm not running shy now… damned Frenchies or not. I'd like to see them try their tricks with me."
Judith chuckled, her composure restored, and left the retiring room. As she was making her way back to the ballroom she ran into Charlie.
"I saw you dancing with Marcus," he said accusingly. "You said you wouldn't agree to dance until the third cotillion."
"I wasn't intending to," she replied with a reassuring smile. "But my brother persuaded me to waltz and your cousin cut in on us."
"Marcus can be rather high-handed," Charlie said, slightly mollified. "Though I've noticed that women seem to like that sort of thing."
"My dear Charlie," she said with asperity. "We're not all accepting of the yoke."
Charlie looked startled at such a novel thought. His tentative laugh was unconvincing. "You're always funning."
"Oh, make no mistake, Charlie, I was not funning." She tapped his arm lightly with her fan. "You haven't known many women yet, but that'll change."
"You think me a mere greenhorn." Disconsolately he remembered his cousin's words over the breakfast table.
Judith smiled to herself and made haste to bolster his wounded self-esteem. "No, of course I don't. But a soldier has little time for dalliance."
"Yes, that's certainly so." Charlie brightened. "We have other things on our minds. The duke is wonderfully calm, don't you think? He says he's made his dispositions and is perfectly certain of how things will develop."
Judith glanced thoughtfully across the room to where Wellington was laughing with a group of his officers in the midst of an admiring circle of ladies. He had a glass of champagne in his hand and certainly didn't appear a man whose mortal enemy was drawing up battle lines a few miles away. Was he a fool or a genius? The latter, it was to be hoped. Otherwise Brussels could become rather uncomfortable.
"Miss Davenport, have you been introduced to the Duke of Wellington?"
The Marquis of Carrington's voice at her shoulder startled Judith into a betraying flush. "No," she said, fanning herself vigorously. "Must you creep up on me like that?"
Marcus glanced around the crowded salon and raised his eyebrows. "Creep up on you in this crowd? Come now, Miss Davenport, I didn't intend anything so theatrical." He drew her arm through his. "Allow me to introduce you to the duke. He flirts outrageously with all pretty women, but he appreciates a nimble wit as well as a pretty face."
Judith allowed herself to be swept off. The introduction was a great honor, and perhaps Carrington intended it as a peace offering of some sort. It would be churlish to reject it. Her escort cleared a path for them through the crowd with a touch on a shoulder, a soft excuse, an occasional bow, until they reached the corner where the duke was holding court.
"May I introduce Miss Davenport, Duke." Marcus drew Judith forward.
"Delighted, ma'am." The duke bowed over her hand, his eyes twinkling appreciatively over his prominent nose. "Quite charming… I have been watching you all evening and wondering how to effect an introduction. Fortunately, my friend Carrington tells me he has the great good fortune to be a friend of yours."
So it wasn't a peace offering at all. She'd been commandeered-if not procured-for the great man's entertainment.
"It's the barest acquaintanceship, sir," Judith said, smiling brilliantly at the duke over her fan. "But I'm honored his lordship considered it sufficient to bring me to you. I stand in his debt."
"No, no, ma'am, it's I who stand in his debt," the duke said expansively. "A glass of champagne now. And we shall have a good talk." Linking his arm in hers, he drew her out of the circle, gesturing with his free hand to a servant bearing a tray of glasses.
Barest acquaintanceship indeed! The insolent baggage had made him out to be a coxcomb who fancied an intimacy that didn't exist. Torn between amusement and annoyance, Marcus watched her walk off on the duke's arm.
It was almost three o'clock in the morning when the Duchess of Richmond's grand ball disintegrated into a confusion of panicked civilians and galvanized officers. An equerry had entered the ballroom and stood for a minute with his gaze raking the glittering throng in search of the commander-in-chief. Then he hurried through the crowd to where the duke was sitting on a window seat beside Judith.
Wellington was delighted with his companion, who was not in the least prudish and quite prepared to flirt as openly and outrageously as he was.
"I do enjoy women of the world, my dear," he said, patting her hand. "None of these die-away airs and touch-me-nots about you, Miss Davenport."
"Shame on you, Duke." Judith laughingly chided without moving her hand from his. "You'll ruin my reputation."
"Not so, ma'am. Your reputation's safe enough with me."
Judith put her head on one side and gave him an arch smile. "More's the pity."
Wellington roared with laughter. He was still laughing when the equerry reached him.
"Duke?"
"What is it, man?" he demanded testily.
"Dispatches, sir." The equerry looked around the room. "In private, my lord."
Wellington stood up immediately. "Excuse me, Miss Davenport." He was suddenly a different man, his face as somber as if it had never known laughter.
Judith rose with quick understanding, holding out her hand. "I'll leave you to your business, Duke."
He took her hand and kissed it, then strode off, beckoning to members of his staff as he made his way to a small room off the ballroom. "Ask Lord Carrington to join us," he said to an aide.
Marcus entered the salon a few minutes later, closing the double doors behind him. "Quatre Bras?" he said immediately.
"You were damned right, Marcus. Boney's left has swung round to the north. The Prince of Orange has him checked at Quatre Bras, but Napoleon's preparing to open the attack."
"And with his right, simultaneously attack the Prussians at Ligny," Marcus said.
"Ligny to the east and Quatre Bras to the west," Wellington agreed, bending over a chart. "Sound general quarters. We'll make our stand at Quatre Bras."
Outside the small salon, the ballroom buzzed. The musicians continued to play, but dancers were few as knots of people gathered in corners and the officers discreetly melted away. Judith was searching for Sebastian when Charlie approached her, his expression radiating excitement.
"Judith, I must go and join my regiment."
"What's happened?"
"General quarters has been sounded and we're to march to Quatre Bras."