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Ju.” He looked anxiously around. “I don’t want to miss anything.”
“Miss what?”
“The battle,” he said, again propelling her down the stairs.
“You’re going?” But she knew the answer. It would be impossible for Sebastian to kick his heels in Brussels while the fate of Europe was being decided such a short distance away.
He gave her the same rueful, slightly guilty smile she had received from Charlie. “I’d give my eye teeth to have a crack at Boney myself, Ju. Since I can’t do that, I must at least
be
there.”
She made no attempt to dissuade him. If their lives had been different—had been as they should have been—her brother’s birthright would have included a pair of colors in the Scots Greys, the regiment that had seen the service of generations of Devereux. It must be torment for him to be forced to stand on the sidelines while his peers in their brilliant regimentals plunged into the fray.
But soon it would be put right. Soon Sebastian would reclaim his birthright. She linked her arm through his and squeezed it tightly. He returned the squeeze absentmindedly and she knew that for once his thoughts were a great distance away from her own.
5
A t their lodgings, Judith waited in the sitting room while Sebastian changed out of his evening dress and into buckskins and riding boots.
“Where are you going to find a horse?”
“Steven Wainwright has offered to mount me on his spare nag.” He checked through his pockets, counting the bills in his billfold. “You’ll be all right, Ju?”
She wasn’t sure whether it was statement or question. “Of course. We’ll meet here when it’s all over.”
He bent to kiss her. “I hate to leave you … but …”
“Oh, go!” she said. “Don’t give me a second thought. But just be careful. We have things to do and we can’t risk a stray bullet.”
“I know. Do you doubt me?” The excitement fadedin his eyes to be replaced by the shadowed intensity so often to be found in his sister’s.
She shook her head. “Never.”
Judith listened to his booted feet on the stairs and the slam of the front door. She went to the window overlooking the narrow lane and watched as he strode, almost at a run, toward the center of town.
It was four o’clock in the morning and the city was as alive as if it were midday. Bells were ringing; people leaned out of windows in their nightcaps, shouting across the narrow lanes. She could hear the roar of the crowds in the streets a short distance away, a roar edged with hysteria. The citizens of Brussels were terrified.
Judith had no intention of missing the drama herself, although she couldn’t have told Sebastian that. It would have ruined his own adventure. Swiftly she changed out of her ball dress into a dark-blue riding habit of serviceable broadcloth and drew on her York tan gloves. She unlocked the wooden chest under her bed, put away the paste jewelry she had been wearing, and took a wad of bank notes from the supply, tucking them away in the deep pocket of her coat. Into the other pocket went her pistol, cleaned and primed.
She let herself out of the house, locking the door behind her, then hesitated, wondering which direction to take. She needed transport, but she suspected that tonight horses couldn’t be acquired for love or money. The inhabitants of Brussels would be holding onto their horseflesh in preparation for flight.
Following a hunch, she turned into an alley that would lead her even farther away from the fashionable part of town, into the poorer commercial areas. The people here would see less need to run from the ogre.
Raucous shouts, singing, and laughter came from a tavern at the end of the lane, yellow light spilling fromthe open door onto the mired cobbles. Some people were not intimidated by the prospect of battle on their doorstep. A farmer’s cart stood in the shadows and her heart leaped exultantly. Between the shafts, a thin horse hung a weary head.
Judith crept up
“Miss what?”
“The battle,” he said, again propelling her down the stairs.
“You’re going?” But she knew the answer. It would be impossible for Sebastian to kick his heels in Brussels while the fate of Europe was being decided such a short distance away.
He gave her the same rueful, slightly guilty smile she had received from Charlie. “I’d give my eye teeth to have a crack at Boney myself, Ju. Since I can’t do that, I must at least
be
there.”
She made no attempt to dissuade him. If their lives had been different—had been as they should have been—her brother’s birthright would have included a pair of colors in the Scots Greys, the regiment that had seen the service of generations of Devereux. It must be torment for him to be forced to stand on the sidelines while his peers in their brilliant regimentals plunged into the fray.
But soon it would be put right. Soon Sebastian would reclaim his birthright. She linked her arm through his and squeezed it tightly. He returned the squeeze absentmindedly and she knew that for once his thoughts were a great distance away from her own.
5
A t their lodgings, Judith waited in the sitting room while Sebastian changed out of his evening dress and into buckskins and riding boots.
“Where are you going to find a horse?”
“Steven Wainwright has offered to mount me on his spare nag.” He checked through his pockets, counting the bills in his billfold. “You’ll be all right, Ju?”
She wasn’t sure whether it was statement or question. “Of course. We’ll meet here when it’s all over.”
He bent to kiss her. “I hate to leave you … but …”
“Oh, go!” she said. “Don’t give me a second thought. But just be careful. We have things to do and we can’t risk a stray bullet.”
“I know. Do you doubt me?” The excitement fadedin his eyes to be replaced by the shadowed intensity so often to be found in his sister’s.
She shook her head. “Never.”
Judith listened to his booted feet on the stairs and the slam of the front door. She went to the window overlooking the narrow lane and watched as he strode, almost at a run, toward the center of town.
It was four o’clock in the morning and the city was as alive as if it were midday. Bells were ringing; people leaned out of windows in their nightcaps, shouting across the narrow lanes. She could hear the roar of the crowds in the streets a short distance away, a roar edged with hysteria. The citizens of Brussels were terrified.
Judith had no intention of missing the drama herself, although she couldn’t have told Sebastian that. It would have ruined his own adventure. Swiftly she changed out of her ball dress into a dark-blue riding habit of serviceable broadcloth and drew on her York tan gloves. She unlocked the wooden chest under her bed, put away the paste jewelry she had been wearing, and took a wad of bank notes from the supply, tucking them away in the deep pocket of her coat. Into the other pocket went her pistol, cleaned and primed.
She let herself out of the house, locking the door behind her, then hesitated, wondering which direction to take. She needed transport, but she suspected that tonight horses couldn’t be acquired for love or money. The inhabitants of Brussels would be holding onto their horseflesh in preparation for flight.
Following a hunch, she turned into an alley that would lead her even farther away from the fashionable part of town, into the poorer commercial areas. The people here would see less need to run from the ogre.
Raucous shouts, singing, and laughter came from a tavern at the end of the lane, yellow light spilling fromthe open door onto the mired cobbles. Some people were not intimidated by the prospect of battle on their doorstep. A farmer’s cart stood in the shadows and her heart leaped exultantly. Between the shafts, a thin horse hung a weary head.
Judith crept up
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