Chapter Ten #2
Will’s neck muscles tightened with the strain of holding back. On the table, his hand clenched into a formidable fist that he intended to use on Rufus the next time they boxed a bout. “The best plan would be to let me come home.”
“I wish I could, my friend, but this is a secret war we wage. Forever in the shadows, like the network of good Queen Bess’s Walsingham, and more important than ever if we are to preserve this fragile peace.
Knowledge and information are power; they are how we win wars, and how we make certain they don’t happen again. ”
Will slumped in his seat, his chin sunk to his chest. Rufus was right. The information he gathered could make a difference if those loyal to Bonaparte attempted to free him and stage a coup.
“Can you at least carry a note to Clem for me?”
Rufus paused, then nodded slowly. “I can, but it must not bear her name or yours, nor any details of where you are and what you do.”
“I understand, but you can tell her.”
Rufus shook his head. “It is much safer for both of you if she remains ignorant of the details. She knows your work is for king and country, and that is as much as she can know. The rest of the Ton believes you to be in the Americas, securing a new trade route. America is far enough away to account for the length of your absence and any lack of news about you. And it’s completely believable. ”
A roar of protest rose in Will’s body, anger fueled by longing and a desperate need to know that Clem would wait for him because she loved him and understood the importance of what he was doing. That she understood only the highest call to duty would keep him from her.
Rufus leaned over and set a hand on his shoulder. “It will be fine, Will. I will stop any other suitor claiming her hand until you return. Trust me, Clem will marry no man but you.”
“I have your word on that?”
“As a friend who will move Heaven and Earth to keep that promise. She is a one-of-a-kind woman, and she loves you.”
At that moment, Colbert bustled up carrying two steaming plates, which he set down on the table, ending their conversation. “Jeannette’s best chicken pie. Bon appétit, messieurs.”
London
Summer sun shone on the grand review of troops proceeding slowly through Hyde Park, picking out innumerable strips of gold braid on uniforms and reflecting off polished weapons and buffed boots.
Clem watched with her parents and younger brother while, on the reviewing stand, set high enough that he could be seen by as many of his loyal subjects as possible, the Prince Regent saluted.
Dressed in so much gold and medals, he dazzled, outshining his more soberly dressed guests.
Behind him stood the Duke of York, the King of Prussia, and the Czar, with Generals Blücher, Lord Beresford, and Hill all standing at attention.
The might of the British Empire in all its pomp and color was a sight to behold, and even Clem, missing Will more and more with each day that passed, felt a flutter of pride and excitement.
Her usually phlegmatic father spoke to his children with unfamiliar pride in his voice. “Twelve thousand troops, Clementine, Phillip. Imagine facing such a mighty force on the field of battle.”
Phillip’s face expressed a mixture of emotions. At eighteen, he had not yet learned to tamp down his feelings so well. “If only the war hadn’t ended so soon. I could have joined up and—”
“Poppycock.” Papa cut him off before he became too carried away. “You are my only son and heir, Phillip, and you have a duty to your birthright. Do you imagine Lord Marsden was allowed onto a battlefield?”
“He fought at Rolica and—”
“He was an aide to Wellesley. The only action he saw was through a telescope lens from a safe distance.” Papa shook his head.
“Like Marsden, you were born into a noble family, Phillip. Your path in life does not include having to ride into battle, but to direct others. If the war had gone on, you might also have served as an aide, but charging onto a field of battle will never be an option for my son.”
Clem sensed a bitter disappointment in her brother that dampened his enthusiasm for the parade, and she sought to divert his attention.
“Are you looking forward to the re-enactment of the Battle of Trafalgar on the Serpentine tonight? I heard the model ships they will use to recreate the main events of the battle are three feet long!”
“It’s not the same as seeing it for real.” But he seemed a little mollified at the prospect of the evening’s entertainment. “Some of the chaps from college will be there. I hope Prinny’s ordered lots of fireworks.”
Clem released a soft sigh of relief. Having restored a modicum of good humor in her brother, she turned back to the parade.
Rufus had been missing again for the past few days.
Was he attending on the Prince Regent? She had hoped he would offer to escort her to the re-enactment, but he had disappeared again.
What could possibly still require his attention now that the war was over?