Read Online All in Scarlet Uniform (Napoleonic War 4) by Adrian Goldsworthy - Free Book Online
Authors: Adrian Goldsworthy
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expect that Colonel FitzWilliam will want to pay his respects now that we are back. Good day to you, Mr Williams, I am most pleased to see you again.’
Williams led the girl along the path beside the river. They stopped several times to greet groups of officers and others promenading with their wives. At first they said little. He asked about her health, the recent trip to Scotland to visit her father’s sister and the baby’s welfare. The answers, save to the questions about the latter, were brief in the extreme and interspersed with formal comments on the growing inclemency of the weather. Each time they met someone it was almost a relief, saving them from so stilted and awkward a conversation. In company with others, the pair of them spoke naturally. When they walked on, both immediately became ill at ease once again. Williams had never known the girl to act in this way. In the past, it had only ever been he who was shy and clumsy when they met. It was not as if they did not know each other well. Cut off for more than two weeks during the winter’s campaign, they had seen each other’s true nature and spoken of things that neither had ever talked about with anyone else. He had longed so much to see her for some ten months, imagining reunions, but never anything like this.
Suddenly it all seemed so absurd, and Williams threw his head back and laughed out loud.
‘I do not understand,’ said Jane, peering up at him and frowning. She looked so earnest that Williams found himself unable to stop laughing, prompting a flash of anger. ‘Mr Williams, have you quite lost your wits!’ Miss MacAndrews stared at him, and then began to chuckle herself. ‘I really do not understand,’ she said again.
Gaining control of himself, Williams at last found a voice. ‘I do beg your pardon, but I believe that is the very first time that I have ever had the advantage of you in conversation,’ he said.
‘Guffawing like a donkey scarcely counts as conversation in most circles.’
‘Well, you know me to struggle in society. But please do forgive me. I have waited so long to see you again, and then have proved dreadful company.’
Jane smiled. ‘It is well mannered, if insincere, of you to take all the blame when it should be shared evenly. It is very good to see you.’ He thrilled at that. ‘We were so worried when your ship vanished in the storm and did not arrive in England.’
Williams would have preferred another pronoun, but the sentiment was so obviously genuine that he was able to take pleasure in that. ‘It was a ghastly time. We nearly sank and …’ He hesitated briefly. ‘I was so afraid that something had happened and that I had lost you. It was not until the end of March that Major Wickham told me that you were safe, and I do not think that I have ever before known such relief. I had been so afraid that for a moment I almost liked that blackguard.’ A thought struck him, and he became awkward again. ‘I am sorry, I had no wish to insult your friend.’
‘Mr Wickham is no friend of mine.’ There was a hard edge in the girl’s voice. Williams guessed that Wickham had done his best to seduce Jane, and was pleased to hear such hostility.
‘That I am glad to hear.’
‘But let us leave so unpleasant a subject. Tell me something of your adventures.’ The coldness stayed in her voice, and Williams guessed at the cause. During the last months someone who was with him in Spain had written letters back to friends in the regiment at home. Apart from other news, there was much about him, with wild stories of amorous misadventures. Williams was painted as an unrelenting and unsuccessful pursuer of women, as a ridiculous Lothario chasing a Spanish aristocrat, a Portuguese courtesan and even some of the soldiers’ wives. Major Wickham had laughingly told them of some of these stories, courtesy of his wife. Williams was not sure whether Lydia Wickham was the recipient of the letters. An inveterate gossip, she may
Williams led the girl along the path beside the river. They stopped several times to greet groups of officers and others promenading with their wives. At first they said little. He asked about her health, the recent trip to Scotland to visit her father’s sister and the baby’s welfare. The answers, save to the questions about the latter, were brief in the extreme and interspersed with formal comments on the growing inclemency of the weather. Each time they met someone it was almost a relief, saving them from so stilted and awkward a conversation. In company with others, the pair of them spoke naturally. When they walked on, both immediately became ill at ease once again. Williams had never known the girl to act in this way. In the past, it had only ever been he who was shy and clumsy when they met. It was not as if they did not know each other well. Cut off for more than two weeks during the winter’s campaign, they had seen each other’s true nature and spoken of things that neither had ever talked about with anyone else. He had longed so much to see her for some ten months, imagining reunions, but never anything like this.
Suddenly it all seemed so absurd, and Williams threw his head back and laughed out loud.
‘I do not understand,’ said Jane, peering up at him and frowning. She looked so earnest that Williams found himself unable to stop laughing, prompting a flash of anger. ‘Mr Williams, have you quite lost your wits!’ Miss MacAndrews stared at him, and then began to chuckle herself. ‘I really do not understand,’ she said again.
Gaining control of himself, Williams at last found a voice. ‘I do beg your pardon, but I believe that is the very first time that I have ever had the advantage of you in conversation,’ he said.
‘Guffawing like a donkey scarcely counts as conversation in most circles.’
‘Well, you know me to struggle in society. But please do forgive me. I have waited so long to see you again, and then have proved dreadful company.’
Jane smiled. ‘It is well mannered, if insincere, of you to take all the blame when it should be shared evenly. It is very good to see you.’ He thrilled at that. ‘We were so worried when your ship vanished in the storm and did not arrive in England.’
Williams would have preferred another pronoun, but the sentiment was so obviously genuine that he was able to take pleasure in that. ‘It was a ghastly time. We nearly sank and …’ He hesitated briefly. ‘I was so afraid that something had happened and that I had lost you. It was not until the end of March that Major Wickham told me that you were safe, and I do not think that I have ever before known such relief. I had been so afraid that for a moment I almost liked that blackguard.’ A thought struck him, and he became awkward again. ‘I am sorry, I had no wish to insult your friend.’
‘Mr Wickham is no friend of mine.’ There was a hard edge in the girl’s voice. Williams guessed that Wickham had done his best to seduce Jane, and was pleased to hear such hostility.
‘That I am glad to hear.’
‘But let us leave so unpleasant a subject. Tell me something of your adventures.’ The coldness stayed in her voice, and Williams guessed at the cause. During the last months someone who was with him in Spain had written letters back to friends in the regiment at home. Apart from other news, there was much about him, with wild stories of amorous misadventures. Williams was painted as an unrelenting and unsuccessful pursuer of women, as a ridiculous Lothario chasing a Spanish aristocrat, a Portuguese courtesan and even some of the soldiers’ wives. Major Wickham had laughingly told them of some of these stories, courtesy of his wife. Williams was not sure whether Lydia Wickham was the recipient of the letters. An inveterate gossip, she may
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