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‘No, I want to give the troops ahead a chance to see who we are.’
‘Jack, I do not want you to get shot.’ Of all the daft things to say, she chided herself. As if he can help it if some sniper is sighting down his rifle barrel even now. He doesn’t need me wittering nervously at him.
‘Neither do I.’ Now he sounded amused, almost as though he was enjoying himself. Men were very strange creatures and being married to one, giving birth to one and having another as a lover did nothing to make them any more comprehensible. ‘Look, the piquet have seen us.’
They were closing with the white, buttressed walls of what looked like a large barn forming the western boundary of the château. Jack did not slacken their pace as they closed with the line of soldiers who were training their weapons on them.
‘Wave!’
Eva waved, then shouted, ‘English! English!’ as the black gelding finally skidded to a halt in front of the troops.
‘Who the devil are you?’ The Guards officer who strode forward stared up at them. ‘Good God! Raven—’
‘Jack Ryder, Captain Evelyn. We met in London last year at Brook’s, if you recall.’
‘Ryder? Yes, of course, forgot. What are you doing here of all places?’ The other man seemed ready to settle down to a thoroughgoing gossip. Eva stirred restlessly. She could almost feel the imaginary sniper’s hot breath as he sighted at the middle of Jack’s back.
‘Can we go inside? I am escorting a lady and I doubt she wishes to sit under the eye of our friends up on the ridge much longer.’
‘Yes, of course.’ The captain recollected himself. ‘There, through that gate. Swann, escort them. Oh, and Ryder, the Duke’s here.’
‘What did he call you?’ Eva demanded, trying to twist round as they rode through the narrow gate and into the barn. ‘Raven? Is that a nickname?’
‘A mistake, he has a poor memory. Do you want to meet the Duke?’
‘You know him, I suppose?’ Eva gave up for the moment; now was not the time to try to probe Jack’s reticence.
‘We have spoken.’ Jack sounded amused. ‘At least, I should say, he has barked at me on occasion.’
Their escort led them out of the other side of the barn into a courtyard. It was indeed a château they had arrived at, but a small one, more of a glorified farm than anything. Through another gate and they saw a group of horsemen. The figure in the cocked hat and black cloak could only, if the nose was anything to go by, be the great man himself. He was surrounded by a group of officers, all in earnest talk. Jack rode across and four faces turned to view them.
Eva saw eyebrows rising as they took in the fact that she was a woman, then the Duke doffed his hat. ‘Madam. From the fact that you are with this gentleman, I assume you are not sightseeing on the battlefield?’
‘Ma’am,’ Jack said, without a quiver in his voice, ‘may I introduce his Grace the Duke of Wellington, Commander of Allied forces?’ Eva bowed, as
best she could given her position. ‘Your Grace, I am escorting this lady to England. I regret that at the moment I am unable to effect a proper introduction.’
The Duke doffed his hat and the others followed suit. ‘I presume that Rav…Ryder is taking you to Brussels?’
‘Yes, your Grace. I must not distract you from the task in hand, forgive me.’ Another mistake with Jack’s name. What was going on?
‘We will ride back together, ma’am, and find you a mount. Allow me to present General Baron von Muffling, Prussian liaison, and Major the Viscount Dereham.’ He rose slightly in his stirrups and the other officers who had been standing further out moved forward attentively. ‘Lieutenant Colonel McDonnell, gentlemen—you have your orders, this place is to be held to the last extremity, I have every confidence.’
Chapter Seventeen
The Duke and the Prussian general rode off ahead, through the orchard gate and into a sunken lane that led up towards the crest. The younger officer drew up alongside and grinned cheerfully across at them. ‘You have chosen a hot day to visit us, ma’am.’
Eva smiled back, trying to make her mind work; it was beginning to feel decidedly bruised, as though it had been hit by little hammers for hours. Pull yourself together, you can do this. What was his name? Ah, yes, Dereham, and he was a viscount and a major. ‘You must all be very wet and uncomfortable after last night, Major.’
Dereham shrugged. ‘I can think of better ways to recuperate between battles, but I have no doubt we’ll all have our minds taken off our wet feet before much longer.’
Eva liked him on sight—with his blond hair, blue eyes and devil-may-care expression he was the opposite of Jack’s dark, serious, hawk-like looks. ‘I hope you have managed to get a good breakfast this morning. The French are frying ham.’
‘Stale bread and cheese, ma’am, washed down with rainwater. I’ll tell the men about the ham, it’ll make them even madder to get at the French.’
‘I should imagine they would follow you anywhere, ham or not,’ Eva said, meaning it. Under his cheerful exterior the major looked like a man who would inspire loyalty and trust.
‘Stop flirting,’ Jack murmured in her ear. ‘I do not want to be fighting duels over you in the middle of Allied lines.’
