Read Online All in Scarlet Uniform (Napoleonic War 4) by Adrian Goldsworthy - Free Book Online Page A

simply have been the keenest to spread such tales.
    ‘The fighting was hard,’ he began slowly, ‘but somehow I doubt that is your chief interest. Miss MacAndrews, I am aware that a good deal has been said about me. I had hoped that you were the one person who did not need my assurance that there is no truth in any of it.’
    She stared at him, her eyes large and vivid, and it was a while before she spoke. ‘Well, I would not have minded if there was just a little truth in the stories. Not much, you understand, but just a very small amount.’
    ‘You still hanker for a Jones, I fancy, a hero imperfect in just the right ways.’
    Jane’s lips parted in a grin. ‘Well, there is something to be said for a Welsh name.’
    ‘For that sentiment I am grateful, and though it may not be in all the right ways, I can boast of many imperfections.’ The mood was now so much easier, almost as if they had not been apart for so long, but there was one difficult subject he had to broach. ‘Your mother spoke of Lieutenant Colonel FitzWilliam being likely to pay his compliments.’
    ‘Now it is your turn to doubt,’ said Jane sharply, ‘but then I suppose I cannot with justice resent that. The colonel is a fine and kind man. I believe that he likes me and has displayed signs of that partiality. There is no more to it than that, as yet.’
    It was not quite full reassurance, but was at least encouraging. ‘He seems a good man,’ said Williams, who always tried to be fair. Silence returned for a good five minutes as they walked to the end of the path and turned around to return.
    ‘Where do we stand, Mr Williams?’ It was Jane who broke the silence at last, and the suddenness of the question shocked him. ‘And if you tell me that we stand on the riverbank, then I shall do my best to fling you into it, small though I am!’
    ‘Where we stand is that I asked you to marry me and you refused.’
    ‘A precise, if somewhat blunt answer.’
    There seemed to be no more. Jane’s eyes were dancing with amusement. ‘My feelings are unchanged,’ he went on. ‘I love you, and that is all there is to it.’
    ‘Blunt now becomes positively brutal. This must be how the French feel when facing you!’
    Williams struggled for balance, a sense so familiar from encounters with Miss MacAndrews. ‘How would you like things to stand?’ he asked, and saw from her face that this was the right response.
    ‘Perhaps as if we were meeting for the first time, so that we may begin afresh. Please, let things not be rushed, but let us see how we both feel. Such fervent admiration as yours is a little uncomfortable for a lady to receive. It is bound to make her wonder whether you truly love her, or merely the idea she represents. Now, I do not wish to offend or doubt for a moment your sincerity, which I know to be genuine. It is simply that there is plenty of time and I am still young. It is hard to know my own mind, but the one thing of which I am sure is that I do not wish to be rushed into anything. But I am fond of you, Hamish, very fond indeed.’
    His heart leapt. If these were not the words he wanted to hear, it was still the warmest she had ever been, and that combined with the sweetness of her voice meant that he did not mind the use of his unfortunate Christian name.
    Williams took her hand and pressed it gently. ‘As you wish,’ he said.
    ‘I am glad,’ she said, ‘but it is getting late and we must hurry.’
    They walked on in silence, comfortable this time, and when Miss MacAndrews slipped her arm through his he felt that he might burst with sheer excitement. Yet there was one more thing to say, and he feared that it would spoil this new-found harmony.
    ‘It seems that fate conspires to give plenty of time,’ he said as lightly as he could.
    ‘I do not understand,’ said Jane, and Williams felt her arm stiffen.
    ‘Your father leaves for Spain soon, and I am to go with him.’ Their arms now seemed more entangled than gloriously