“My goodness!” Grace sat down on the sofa. “Do you always move so fast?”
“I do, when my happiness depends on it and yours too I hope.” Grace nodded. “Shall we go and tell my sister the good news?”
The rest of that day passed in a flurry of arrangements. Benson was dispatched back the camp with additional message to Sir Edward, begging him to act as groomsman to his brother-in-law. Another note was sent to Sir Charles Stuart, who indicated that he would be delighted to grace the ceremony with his presence. They invited friends who had arrived in the city and the new acquaintances Alice had made during her visit. A white silk gown was borrowed for the bride and a bonnet trimmed with Brussels lace was bought. Tailors worked to give Philip’s clothes a better fit and a bouquet was obtained from one of the flower sellers.
Grace could not stop laughing at all the confusion, so very different from the tiny country ceremony she had always imagined. But I would not have it any other way, she thought. Whatever my life becomes with Philip, it will never be boring!
The wedding day dawned grey and cool but it did not rain. Edward and Benson arrived, having ridden from the camp and were much splashed with mud. It took all Benson’s endeavours to get his master ready in time. Philip sat with him while he dressed. He tried to calm his nerves by listening to scraps of army gossip. Apparently the rumour about the Lys had not been confirmed.
“Napoleon is in northern France but where exactly nobody knows.”
“What do the spies say?”
“One says one thing, one says another.”
Philip related the arrangements he had made to get the women out of the city and Edward approved.
“I’ll try to send you word but nothing is certain. You must use your best judgement whether to go or stay.”
In the meanwhile, Alice and Madeleine assisted Grace to dress. The white silk shimmered when an occasional beam of sunshine penetrated the hotel’s windows. Her hair was brushed until it shone and was piled up on top of her head. The lace bonnet was tenderly placed over her curls and the ribbons tied in a bow under her ear. Alice gave her a string of pearls and matching earrings.
“Oh no, I can’t wear your jewellery,” Grace protested.
“They’re not mine, you goose, but your own; our present to the bride. I searched all over Brussels yesterday to find something suitable. Do you like them?”
“Of course I do! I’ve never possessed anything so fine in my life.”
“Then put them on and let us see.”
The jewels were approved and then Grace was ordered not to stir while Alice made her own toilette. She had just returned when Benson arrived with a message to say that Sir Edward and Philip on their way to the church. Grace jumped up, but Alice bade her sit down again since ‘it’s the custom for the bride to arrive late’. The next few minutes were difficult for Grace. Even wonderful things have their problems, she thought. Oh. I do hope that I have finished with adventures. I hate to keep Philip waiting and I’m longing to be married to him so much!
When at last she arrived at the dusty church, dim with candlelight, the organ started to play. Her heart beat wildly. Seeing Philip’s smile made her want to dance down the short aisle. There was no one to give her away, so she entered alone, aware that all eyes were on her, but the only ones that mattered were Philip’s. The vicar was old and mumbled the words, so it was difficult to hear him as they gave their responses. Then they were out in the street, with the bells ringing and rose petals fluttering over them. People crowded around to offer their felicitations, most of whom she had never met before. Sir Charles wished them every happiness and Alice wept as she kissed her cheek.
“I am so very glad to have you for my sister!” Alice whispered.
The party returned to the hotel where a substantial nuncheon had been prepared. Music was played during the feast; many toasts were given and conversation flourished. The coming war protruded of course. Many of the guests were in uniform and they all seemed sure of the outcome, welcoming the chance to fight. How strange men are, Grace thought. She could not help being grateful that Philip was not in the army especially when she recognised the anguish in Alice’s eyes. Edward, who was nearby, followed the direction of her glance and left his companions. He said something to Alice. She rose and came over to Philip.
“Edward tells me that he wants us to attend the Duchess of Richmond’s ball this evening. I’m sure that the Lennoxes would be pleased if you would join us. An earl and his new countess do not need to wait for an invitation.”
Philip snorted. “Thank you, dear sister, but I have other plans for my wedding night.”
Alice blushed as she replied, “I thought you might, and indeed it promises to be the most awful squeeze but Edward wants to go, since Wellington intends to be present. He hopes to find out more information. I doubt it, but you will have more privacy if I go too.”
The Duchess of Richmond’s ball, a rather more elaborate affair than the usual dances which frequently took place in the city, had been talked about for days. A coach house, hung with a wallpaper of roses growing on a trellis was the chosen venue. The room had been transformed into a ballroom with mirrors, flowers and fine furnishings. Anyone who was anyone had been invited. Alice had intended to refuse as she did not want to go to such an important occasion without Edward. Philip, newly arrived in Brussels, had not been included on the guest list. As a result, Alice had made no arrangements and would have to wear a gown, hastily run up for her when she first arrived.
“Everyone has seen it at least twice,” she grumbled.
“You are ravishing, my sweet, as always,” Edward murmured, causing her to smile.
Grace did not dare to look at Philip as he held Alice’s cloak for her and then wished them a pleasant evening.
“They won’t have as pleasant a one as we will,” he said, holding out his hand to Grace. “Come, my darling, it’s time to get ready.”
He detected a quiver in her fingers. “Not frightened, are you?”
“No, not really... perhaps a little.”
“No need, remember that I love you.”
It was very late when Grace roused herself from a heavy sleep. Beside her, Philip had thrown back the bedclothes and gone to open the curtains. Moonlight turned his naked body pure white against the darkness. Grace wondered if she was very wicked to take pleasure in the sight.
“Horsemen, galloping down the street,” he told her. “Something is happening.” There was a note she had never heard before in his voice.
“Trouble?”
“It looks like it. News at least, if these men are couriers.”
“Should we get dressed?”
“I will. You stay there. I’ll try to find out. No need to be alarmed. They could be bringing good tidings.”
He threw his clothes on hurriedly and was gone. Grace went over to the window and looked down on a street that was quiet once again. She stayed there for some minutes, but nothing further happened. She was thoroughly awake by now and she knew she would not be able to go to sleep before Philip returned. So, she rose, put on her nightdress and threw a shawl over her shoulders. In the salon, the fire was almost dead but there was heat left in the embers. She piled on more coal and used the bellows to blow them into life. She lit a brace of candles and picked up a discarded book. The words blurred and she allowed it to drop onto her knee. Leaning back in her chair, she thought over the tumultuous events of the last day and night. Gentle and insistent by turns, Philip had introduced her to so many new feelings. She ran her hands over her body as he had done, remembering how he had entered her, hurting her a little at first. When she cried out, he had kissed her until she relaxed. Then gently, he had entered her again. She had never realised that being with a man would be like that. So, that is how children are made! The same as animals in a farmyard. I wonder if a mare or a cow enjoys it as much as I did in the end. Perhaps I am already with child. She let her thoughts range over the possibility. A girl, I hope, who will become
my friend as well as my daughter. Then as many sons as Philip wants.
Chapter Twenty-One
Grace was dozing when she heard the outer door open and the sound of a woman sobbing. She jumped to her feet as Alice rushed into the room; her face streaked with tears. Grace ran to her and put her arms around her.
“What is it? What’s happened?” Grace asked, easing her into a chair. “Tell me.”
“They’re gone, all of them, Edward too.”
“Gone where?”
“Back to their regiments. News came in the middle of the ball that Napoleon had crossed the river Sambre and forced the Prussians out of the town of Fleurus. Edward told me that is near Charleroi and entirely too close for comfort. He had to go with the rest and there is certain to be a battle tomorrow or the next day.” Alice began to cry again. She was shivering with fright. Grace hurried to her room, stripped a blanket from the bed and put it around her sister-in-law’s shoulders. She had started to pour her a brandy when the door opened again and Philip arrived.
“So you have heard then?” he asked, taking in the scene.
“Word came at the ball,” Alice told him. “People went straight back to camp. Those of us left behind did not feel much like dancing after that. I came away as soon as I could.”
The rest of the night passed anxiously. Alice did not want to go to bed but eventually Grace persuaded her to do so. She sat for a long time holding Alice’s hand until she drifted off at last. When Grace returned to the salon, she found Philip poking the fire moodily. He looked up and smiled at her.
“This is not how I expected to spend my wedding night,” she exclaimed.
“Neither did I, but history is being made at this moment, one way or the other.”
“Do you think we should leave Brussels now?”
“Not yet, but we must be ready to do so if necessary. When it is light and we have had some sleep, we’ll pack what we need for a journey to the coast.” He stood up. “Come back to bed. Things always look better in daylight.”
But in that statement, Philip was mistaken.
In the morning, both women packed. Since most of their baggage had departed with the coaches for England, they had little to take, only the things that they had acquired during their stay in Brussels. For safety, Grace stowed away her pearls, her only valuable possessions, in a pocket tied securely inside her dress.
“I am as ready as I can be,” Grace said as she came into the salon where Alice and Philip were waiting to partake of the midday meal. “What do we do next?”
Philip stood up and took out his wallet. “I have been to change some money.” He handed both women a small package. “If we are separated for any reason, there is enough in there to take you back to England. Hide it on your person and let’s all hope that you don’t need to use any of it.”
The nuncheon was served, though none of the three had much appetite. As they rose from the table, Alice said,
“By the way, I have sent Madeleine home to her family. It’s not right that she should be away from them at this moment. I told her she can return as soon as we know what is happening and if she does not come, I won’t blame her. What a strange time we are living through.”
“Let’s go and find out more,” Philip suggested.
They walked through streets which were crowded with hurrying people, most of whom appeared to be on the same errand. A group stood waiting outside Sir Charles’ residence, and others were at the Mairie. No one seemed to know anything. There was a lot of excited chatter but no real facts. One lady declared that,
“If there is no more news, then perhaps I will order my carriage and visit my husband.”
A man immediately said to her,
“Don’t do that. If the army is on the move, as it very well might be, you would be decidedly in the way or you could even be captured by the enemy.”
Another woman gave a little squeal. “They say that the French are demons and no woman is safe if they capture her.”
“Rubbish,” Philip murmured. “French soldiers are no worse than any others and they have more things on their mind than females.”
“Hush, people will hear you.” Grace clutched his arm as one or two faces turned to look at them. “Let’s go away from here. I don’t want you to be arrested.”
They continued to walk around, overhearing snatches of conversation that only revealed the ignorance of the speakers. Eventually they went into a small park and sat down, enjoying the gleams of sunshine that had penetrated some of the grey clouds. Then they noticed the sound of wheels and the creaking of wood in the street outside. At first they ignored it, but then they heard someone shouting and what sounded like groans. Grace jumped to her feet and hurried to the park gates. A stream of wagons came down the road, filled with soldiers. There was blood on their faces and their uniforms were torn. Other men stumbled alongside, helping each other and grimacing with pain. Her hand flew to her mouth as she took in the scene.
“Oh, my God, who are they?”
“Most of them are ours, some are Prussians,” Philip said as he hurried forward towards the procession which drew to a halt in the roadway.
Their peaceful afternoon had ended. House doors opened and men were carried inside. Those that remained closed were hammered on or their entrances broken down. Even after the removal of some of the worst of the injured to hospitals and convents, there were not enough places for all. The square became filled with groaning bodies. Doctors and nuns passed among them, ordering those nearby to help. Although sickened by the shocking sights, both Alice and Grace volunteered. They soon lost sight of each other and of Philip. There did not seem to be time to look for friends. They brought water, put on bandages, held arms and legs while wounds were examined and shut the eyes of those who had breathed their last in this once pretty place. Neither woman forgot that day for the rest of their lives. Dusk was falling before the numbers began to dwindle. By then Grace was wet through, from the light rain which had started a short time before. She had not noticed it, because she was very hot. The coolness and moisture cooled her skin as she lifted her face to the sky. She set down the pail she was carrying and rubbed her aching back, looking about her for the first time since she had started working. The wounded that could be moved were already under cover. Rough tents had been erected over those who had to remain where they were lying. The dead were being heaved onto carts in haste and with very little dignity. There seemed to be an endless stream of bodies. She shivered, suddenly icy cold. Very few of the helpers were left now, only a few inside the crude shelters. All at once she wondered if she would be able to walk the short distance to her room. No one told her she could go, but no one stopped her as she stumbled out of the gate and walked in the direction of the hotel. She was nearly there when a warm arm slipped around her waist and a familiar voice said in her ear,
“There you are. I’ve been searching for you everywhere.”
She turned in his arms and held him close. “Alice?” she asked.
“Inside where you should be.” He swept her up and carried her the short distance into the hotel. She was shocked to see the rows of wounded laid out in the foyer. They climbed the stairs where a similar sight met her eyes. Philip picked his way carefully down the corridor to their own rooms. When he set her down, she saw that she was in the bedroom which Alice and Edward had shared, not their own. The bed was occupied and the occupant asleep. She could see the woman’s tousled hair.
“Where...?”
“Every room in the hotel has been taken over by the wounded. I had the greatest difficulty in preventing them from evicting us from this one, so you will have to share with Alice. She wanted to stay awake to be sure you were safe, but she couldn’t keep her eyes open. I’ve never seen her so tired.” He nodded to the sleeping figure.
“And you? Where will you sleep?”
“In the corridor. It’s not the first time I’ve slept on the floor. Now let me get you out of those filthy things.”
Grace
looked down and realised that her summer dress was soaking and stiff with mud and blood. Philip untied the laces and peeled it off her skin. His hands were steady and for once there was no light of dalliance in his eyes. She felt grateful, for she had no taste for lovemaking herself, after the scenes she had seen that day. She knew they would haunt her for the remainder of her life. From somewhere Philip had obtained water, so she could wash some of the dirt away. Then he helped her into the bed and pulled the covers over her. He dropped a kiss on her forehead and turned away to seek his own rest.
When she awoke in the morning, Alice was sitting at the dressing table brushing her hair. Grace sat up, for a moment unsure of where she was in the unfamiliar room. Alice’s face looked pale and she was frowning until she saw Grace watching her.
“Philip has gone out to find us something to eat,” she said. “I have found another frock for you. I expect we will be needed to help the wounded again.” She tried to smile but it was crooked. “We should get dressed too for I don’t know what is likely to happen next.”
“Where have all these poor men come from?” Grace asked, as she began to make herself ready. It was difficult, for she felt terribly stiff.
“Philip has been speaking to some of them. They were attacked at Quatre Bras a place where four roads meet. The assault was unexpected, so many were hurt. Also, the Prussians have been fighting at somewhere called Ligny.”
At that moment Philip returned, pulling a flagon and a couple of long loaves from under his coat.
“This is all the food I could find,” he told them. “I’ve been lucky to get anything at all and to bring it back here without a fight.”
“What’s going on outside?”
“More men have been brought in from the fighting, but not as many as yesterday. The new arrivals were in the same battle, but took longer to reach here. Some of them are in poor shape. I have been talking to a Dr. Voiron and intend to go and help him again once I have eaten.”
Lord Philip's Christmas (Regency Belles &Beaux Book 2) Page 17
