Shortly after that dinner was announced. To Elizabeth’s delight, Geoffrey claimed the right of a newlywed to sit next to his bride. She had never heard of such a thing, but the duchess laughingly agreed.
The dinner was everything one would expect it to be before a grand ball and made even more special by the attention her husband paid to her, selecting the choicest cuts of meat and fish. Always asking what Elizabeth preferred and if she would like wine or another libation.
Talk of the coming war was discouraged, and everyone acted as if nothing unusual was going on. It was too unreal.
Once they were in one of the series of rooms decorated for the ball, she whispered to Geoffrey, “I know that we should not be discussing the likelihood of a battle with Napoleon at dinner, but do you not think it strange that no one has mentioned it at all?”
“Perhaps they are purposely avoiding thinking about it.” He glanced around. “Many of the men here might not return.”
He was right. Elizabeth should have thought of that herself. And right now, she was exceedingly thankful her husband was not in the army. If there was time, she’d have his friends to dinner.
Soon the other guests began to arrive, and the rooms were filled with colorful silks, playing off the reds, greens, and blues of the officer’s uniforms.
She danced the first set with Geoffrey, and the second with Captain Lord Thomas Prendergast, and the third with Captain Lord William Toole, a friend of Geoffrey’s who had sought them out.
After that set, Geoffrey asked that she remain with him for the next set. As they partook of glasses of champagne, a tall dark gentleman in the uniform of the 95th Rifles strode up to them. “Lord Harrington?” Geoffrey nodded. “I’m Hawksworth. I’ve been told you’ve been looking for me.”
“I have indeed.” Geoffrey grinned. “I have a message from your brother Lord Septimius to write more often.” He looked at the man’s uniform. “I was told you were in the Life Guards.”
“When I had an opportunity to change units, I did,” Lord Hawksworth said.
Geoffrey glanced at her. “I’ve been remiss. My dear, may I present Colonel the Marquis of Hawksworth? My lord, my wife, Lady Harrington.”
“A pleasure, my lady.” His bow was almost courtly. “Would you do me the honor of standing up with me?”
“I would be delighted, my lord.” He led her out to dance as Lord John strode up to Geoffrey. Elizabeth wondered if her brother’s friend Captain Sutton was at the ball or her husband’s friend Major Cotton.
As she and Lord Hawksworth twirled by Georgy she was arguing with the young Lord Hay. Elizabeth wondered what had upset her husband’s old friend.
Later in the evening, Lord John requested a set. “We have been ordered to be ready to march at three in the morning.”
Elizabeth almost stumbled. “So soon?”
“Old Boney caught us out.” He grimaced. “Never fear, the duke will see us through.” His lordship immediately changed the conversation, and Elizabeth finally appreciated why no one was discussing the war. A gentleman who had become a friend might not survive. “Will you remain in Brussels?”
“Until we are ordered elsewhere,” she replied, but her mind was already thinking of how many soldiers here would not make it home.
The duchess had arranged entertainment in the form of some of the enlisted members of the Royal Highlanders and the 92nd Foot to dance reels and play their bagpipes. Geoffrey joined her to watch the performance.
When it ended he asked, “Have you heard anything?”
“Lord John said they were to be ready by three in the morning.”
Geoffrey looked at her with a troubled gaze. “That soon. Wellington hasn’t arrived yet.”
They had not long to wait as the duke arrived shortly before supper. He appeared to be in a mood to be pleased until the Prince of Orange strode up to him and began whispering in the duke’s ear.
Some of the older officers appeared worried, but the younger ones were full of energy.
“I cannot understand why young men wish to go to war,” Elizabeth whispered to Geoffrey.
“Generally, it’s only the ones who have never been.” He wrapped his arm around her waist, and she was thankful for the comfort.
As they went to supper, Lord John came up to them. “I’ll take my leave of you. It was good to see you again.”
Elizabeth held out her hand and he bowed over it. “You will be careful.”
“As much as I can be.” He gave a rueful smile. “Farewell.”
