Major Lord David

by Sherry Lynn Ferguson

  “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?”

  Again Hayden sighed. “Parliament will hope-as it should not-that Bonaparte will be content once again to head France. But there are objections to the man per se. We have had considerable opportunity to know Monsieur Bonaparte. Do you hold out any hope that he might be contained?”

  “None at all.”

  “Nor do I. So there must be a vote once again for war. But once resolved that conflict is inevitable-a resolution, by the way, that could take some weeks-the Commons will dither when it should not. And there is that far-from-minor matterthat we must be ready to fight a war before we declare it. But I leave military matters to you and Wellington.”

  “I cannot imagine a decision before the Easter recess,” David said, moving to take Demarest’s vacated seat. “At least two weeks from now.”

  “At least,” Hayden agreed with a smile. “Unless you hear from Wellington.”

  “He will not press me to join his staff again. He will find enthusiasm enough in younger officers. That has always carried weight with him. He might complain about inexperience, but he objects to long faces”

  “And yours is a long face?”

  “Increasingly. I am feeling old.”

  “But you still think you must go?”

  “I must. It is an obligation. And a desire. If I am not there and feel that if I had been-”

  “Ah! David Trent’s exceptionality!”

  “‘Tis hardly `exceptionality,’ Myles, when any confrontation is likely to turn on sheer numbers. We shall have difficulties enough in preparation without scrabbling for heads.”

  “The allies will come forward”

  “Yes. And what a motley assortment we shall be!” His rest less fingers turned Demarest’s cards for review before he carefully repositioned the hand.

  “How inscrutable you are,” Hayden muttered, observing him. “And what of your other obligation?”

  “I have no other obligation. Miss Caswell has released me”

  “Because of this news?”

  David shook his head. “No. She threw me over last night. Before any of us knew.”

  “Before…?” Hayden repeated softly, watching his brother’s face. “Well, at least you might console yourself that she objects to you on your merits, or lack of them, and not because of influences beyond your control.”

  “You might find consolation in such thinking, Hayden,” he objected quickly. “Though I doubt you have ever been refused.”

  “Not that I recall,” Hayden admitted with a small smile. “Though I’ve never offered, either.”

  “‘Tis not a pleasant feeling,” David admitted with some warmth. “The more so when she gave every indication.. Catching Hayden’s expression, he insisted instead, “She is not indifferent to me. She tells me she has decided against me, but my vanity tells me otherwise. I cannot believe her so fickle, that in less than a fortnight in town she has turned her attentions to others” He firmed his lips, at once aware of sounding too strident. The previous night’s restless sleep still haunted him; as a seasoned campaigner, he habitually slept like a top. And the morning’s requirements had fed his grievances.

  Myles observed him with greater curiosity than amusement. “‘Tis simply the shock,” he offered at last. “You will come ‘round.”

  “Oh, certainly. I’ve every faith in it! But it’s a puzzle nonetheless-that now the matter with Miss Caswell is settled, I’ve an unexpected reluctance to have it so. I’d not realized, that when I contemplated selling up-and spending time fishing and riding and eating as much buttered toast as I might possibly want-that she was so essential a part of it. She has been one with my thoughts of home, Myles. Ever since the New Year.”

  “Well…” Hayden said. “News like today’s certainly does concentrate the mind. But you had some years of fond attachment to make up in order to match her. As I recall, you claimed Miss Caswell would have to choose you. You gave her too much rein.”

  “The more fool I, though it was the honorable course. I should have taken your advice and deprived her of choice. D’you know,” he diverted heatedly, “she believes me in thrall to Miss Athington?”

  “Does she?” Hayden’s eyebrows rose. “Astonishing. Where do women get these notions? But speakin’ of notions-no doubt you’ve heard of Miss Caswell’s apparent fondness for young Grenby. Some also suggest her interest grows in her brother’s friend, Ronald Dumont”

  At that David swore, low but volubly, in the French that always satisfied his more primitive feelings. That Billie should care in the slightest for the decorative, too smoothly mannered Grenby was outside of enough. And Dumont! What little David had seen of Dumont confirmed the man’s venality. He was sly, calculating, and reliable as a swamp.

  Hayden drummed his fingers upon the table felt. “Each time you cross the Channel, David, your argot becomes more colorful. I know your facility amuses Grandmere, but I find it vulgar. If you will not engage in civilized conversation, I shall have at my cards”

  David quickly apologized.

  “I note you left the girl dangling more than two months,” Hayden continued. “Even the most complacent of females would not have appreciated that, and Miss Caswell is far from complacent. She might well credit Miss Athington’s aspirations, when she believes you insincere. You’ve just objected to Grenby and Dumont on much less provocation.”

  “She asked for the time. Whether we wed was always Miss Caswell’s decision.”

  “Then perhaps she looks for more enthusiasm in you. She is too much like you, David, with too great a preference for action. She may interpret your reticence as indifference. Can you claim it isn’t so? You have been too nice.”

  David did not volunteer just how often he had been impertinent enough to steal kisses.

  “She did say no?” Hayden pressed, watching his face with interest.

  “Quite clearly. She says she does not want me-and that she might want others”

  “No woman can be trusted to tell the truth”

  “She is different.”

  “She is not” Hayden held up a palm as David would have protested. “Do you want my advice, or did you simply wish to squawk?”

  “You do know how to flatter a man, Myles. God help you should you ever find yourself in like circumstances.”

  “I shan’t,” he countered. “And you must act as though your own position has not altered. You must act as though still betrothed. ‘Twill be a kindness to both of you” Hayden must have read the disbelief on his face. “Oh, come, David. I know you can dissemble well enough to turn most Drury Lane thespians out on their ears. Haven’t you convinced the world you’re a good-hearted fellow?”

  David ignored the jab. “Pretending nothing has changed hardly seems fair to her. I pressed her for a decision, and she gave me one”

  Hayden shrugged. “Mon frere, you mustn’t be disheartened. `All is fair,’” he offered blandly, “‘in love and war.’ And you are at both. Besides”-he leaned back into his seat-“if you do not act engaged, you are apt to spend your meager time in town bein’ pitied, like a proper fool. Best to keep the upper hand. Your strategy, Major, must be to fight for her.”

  “A tall order when, as you say, I may leave in a matter of da
ys”

  “The tactics must be your own” Hayden yawned. “Were I you, I shouldn’t spend too much time reflecting on every pifflin’ procedure.”

  “‘Piffling,’ Myles? When did you ever?” As that elicited a smile, David added, “Your grand strategy forgets a potential snag. As Miss Caswell has probably already informed her father and brothers, they will enforce her will.”

  “Ah, yes, I’d forgotten the brothers. They are a proper team, aren’t they?”

  “And Kit in particular is a rackety fellow.”

  “Yes,” Hayden mused aloud. “His vowels are no rarity. I’ve heard he’s in deep with Dumont.”

  “Yet you tell me Dumont’s name is linked to Billie Caswell’s?”

  “Perhaps for reasons other than affection. Sometimes snares are set for larger game”

  David keenly felt his frustration. Kit Caswell appeared set to cause more distress for his family. He would end up in more than one black book. And once David himself was off on the Continent, he would have no means of aiding Billie.

  “You are certain, Myles, about Kit Caswell?”

  “These things are weighed at the tables, David. If Christopher Caswell does not make good on a great deal-and soonthings are likely to go ill for him.”

  “Surely you haven’t tried him?”

  Hayden smiled. “I’m not in the habit of fleecing puppies. And wagering with Caswell would be unseemly. Bein’ all in the family.”

  “No longer.”

  “Nevertheless. Consider that I aid your subterfuge. But someone else will press him. And then I should worry about his sister-and her portion.” David’s dark thoughts must have been all too evident, for Hayden asked lightly, “What shall you be doing in the near term-as you see to the welfare of the realm?”

  “I’ve curtailed Barton’s leave and must help cajole those I might to rejoining. With luck there should be considerable esprit. And I must see Grandmere.”

  As David rose to his feet, Hayden groaned. “She will take this badly,” he said. “You are her favorite.”

  David’s gaze measured him. “You are a fool, Myles.”

  Hayden shrugged. “Is there ought I might do to aid you?”

  “You might keep an eye out for Kit Caswell and Dumont”

  “Easy enough. Brothers are the very devil, aren’t they?” And with Hayden’s smile and idle salute, David found himself dismissed.

  He mulled over Hayden’s advice as he set about writing a letter to the Duke and Duchess of Braughton. He said nothing to his parents of Miss Caswell’s defection, leaving that particular to Sir Moreton Caswell’s communication. But David could not similarly mask from his grandmother the state of his heart or his plans to leave. When the dowager duchess received him that afternoon, she insisted that they go out at once to discuss matters on a drive in the park.

  “Grandmere, it is gray and chilly,” he protested. “And you have been ill.”

  “Non, mon brave. We must have the air!” And so the stately barouche and four was ordered up, and David, tucking several lap robes about his octogenarian relative, watched her with concern.

  “I do worry about your health, Grandmere.”

  “Pah! You think me so decrepit? Perhaps you already have your eye on what I shall leave to you!”

  David smiled broadly. “I assure you, I never think of such. I should have to wait a very long while in any event”

  “Because I do not go to war.” Her still strikingly attractive features were concerned as she squeezed his hand. “I worry for you, David.”

  “You know you mustn’t. I have always returned to you”

  She tried to smile. “This Bonaparte! I knew that he would do something like this!”

  “Did you?” David laughed. “You cannot convince me that you suspected anything of the sort! If you did, you should have advised the rest of us. We might have been better prepared for his return.”

  She airily waved a tiny hand in an elegant glove. “He will believe himself welcome. He will believe himself loved. He has so much the swelled head! But it is only that King Louis has proved so weak.”

  “If no one dares counter him, Bonaparte will grasp power by default. He may not be loved, but he might still be effective.”

  “Perhaps he will be content to leave the rest of us alone.”

  “Do you think that likely, Grandmere?”

  She shook her head, crowned with its extravagantly beribboned bonnet. “I fear not. I fear not. But there is that chanceAh!” she said waving. “There is Lady Eloise. Three times a widow! Does she not look spry?” Grandmere was clearly delighted to be out, to see and to be seen, to tease her forbearing servants and her patient grandson. For some minutes she chattered about the others around them; then she asked abruptly, “And now, mon petit, what of your affaire de coeur?”

  “Affaire de coeur, Grandmere? There is no love affair. Miss Caswell has dismissed me”

  He supposed it encouraging that she should look so surprised.

  “You have lost her?”

  “I am not certain, Grandmere,” he said dryly, “that she was mine to lose. Did you not tell me at the New Year that her `puppy love’ would pass?”

  “That might have been replaced by something deeper.”

  “Apparently not.”

  “Ah! You are brusque with me! So she broke with you just this morning-with this news?”

  “No. Before. Yesterday evening.”

  “Before …” she said softly, in much the same considering tone of voice Hayden had used. “Then perhaps she now regrets-and will change her mind.”

  “If so, she must be patient. I do not intend to see her again for some time.”

  “But that is cruel, David! Your Miss Billie will wish to see you. You are not one to play at the games” At which David dared not divulge his intention to follow Hayden’s strategy and play very much “at the games”

  “While I am away, Grandmere,” he said, diverting her, “I should appreciate it if you would look to Miss Caswell’s interests. If she is truly captivated by those suitors mentioned here in town, I must doubt her judgment. She is very young and has been left too much to her own devices.”

  “Perhaps she is tired of being treated as so young. She is what-eighteen?”

  “Nineteen. But I fear her parents-preoccupied as they were by Lady Caswell’s ill health-were always most inattentive. And one brother, Kit, is nothing but trouble.”

  “Children suffer from improper attention-from indulgence-as well as the neglect,” she intoned sagely.

  “And what were our failings, then, Grandmere?” he teased her.

  “My grandsons do not fail. I took great care it should not be so” She smiled. “Mais, it reste a savoir! It remains to be seen!”

  As he laughed, she watched him fondly for a moment before turning to look out at the park.

  “I remember la gamine Billie,” she said, “from many years ago”

  “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 st
ared 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.