An Infamous Army (Alastair-Audley Tetralogy 4)

‘Confess, Charles! You had an assignation with an unknown charmer!’

He smiled, but shook his head. ‘Not precisely—no!’

‘Don’t tell me you rode out for your health’s sake! You have not been alone!’

‘No,’ he replied, ‘I had the good fortune to meet Lady Barbara.’

She concealed the dismay she felt, but was for the moment too much nonplussed to say anything. The Earl filled what might have been felt to have been an awkward pause by enquiring in his languid way: ‘Is an early morning ride one of her practices? She is an unexpected creature!’

‘She is a splendid horsewoman,’ said the Colonel evasively.

‘Certainly. I have very often seen her at the stag hunting during the winter.’

‘Perry calls her a bruising rider!’ remarked Judith, with a slight laugh. She poured herself out some coffee, and added in a casual tone: ‘Is it true she is about to become engaged to the Comte de Lavisse?’

The Colonel raised his brows. ‘What, does gossip say so?’

‘Oh yes! That is, his attentions have been so very particular that it is regarded as quite certain. I suppose it would be a good match. He is very wealthy.’

‘Very, I believe.’

This response was too unencouraging to allow of Judith’s pursing the subject any further. The Colonel started to talk of something else, and as soon as he had finished his breakfast, went away to order his servant to pack his valise. He was soon gone from the house, and although Judith was sorry he was obliged to accompany the Duke of Ghent, she was able to console herself with the reflection that at least he would be out of Barbara Childe’s reach.

She might be a little uneasy about his evident admiration for Barbara, but as she had no suspicion of how far matters between them had already gone, she felt no very acute anxiety, and was able to welcome the Colonel home on the following evening without misgiving.

The Earl having an engagement to dine with some officers at the Hôtel d’Angleterre, Judith had invited Miss Devenish to keep her company, and was seated with her in the salon when Colonel Audley walked in.

Both ladies looked up; Judith exclaimed: ‘Why, Charles, are you back so soon? This is delightful! I believe I need not introduce you to Miss Devenish.’

‘No, indeed: I had the pleasure of meeting Miss Devenish the other evening,’ he replied, shaking hands, and drawing up a chair. ‘Is Worth out?’

‘Yes, at the Hôtel d’Angleterre. Is the Duke back in Brussels? Lord Harrowby and Sir Henry too?’

‘No, the visitors are all on their way home to England. The Duke is here, however, but I am afraid you will be obliged to make up your mind to exist without him for a little while,’ he said, with a droll look. ‘Are you like my sister, Miss Devenish? Do you suffer from nightmares when the Duke is not here to protect you from Boney?’

She smiled, but shook her head. ‘Oh no! I am too stupid to understand wars and politics, but I feel sure the Duke would never leave Brussels if there were any danger to be apprehended in his doing so.’

He seemed amused; Judith enquired why she must do without the Duke, and upon being informed of his intention to visit the Army, professed herself very well satisfied with such an arrangement.

The tea tray was brought in a few moments later, and Judith had the satisfaction of hearing her protégée and Colonel Audley chatting with all the ease of old acquaintances over her very choice Orange Pekoe. Nothing could have been more comfortable! she thought. Charles, she knew well, had a sweetness of disposition which made him appear to be pleased with whatever society he found himself in, but she fancied there was more warmth in his manner than was dictated by civility. He was looking at Lucy with interest, taking pains to draw her out; and presently, when the carriage was bespoken to convey her to her uncle’s lodging, he insisted on escorting her.

When he returned he found his sister-in-law still sitting in the salon with her embroidery, and the Earl not yet come home from his dinner engagement. He took a seat opposite to Judith, and glanced idly through the pages of the Cosmopolite.

‘No news more of the Duc d’Angoulême, I see,’ he remarked.

‘No. There was something in the Moniteur, some few days ago, about his having had a success near Montélimart. I believe he has advanced into Valence.’

‘I doubt of his enjoying much success. If he favours his brother, I should judge his venture to have been hopeless from the start. You never saw such a set of fellows as the French at Ghent! The worst is that they, most of them, seem to think the war lost before ever it is begun.’

She lowered her embroidery. ‘What, even now that the Duke is here?’

‘Oh yes! They are quite ready to admit that he did very well in Spain, but now that he is to meet Boney in person they think the result a foregone conclusion.’

‘And the King?’

‘There’s no telling. But whether we can succeed in putting him back on the Throne—However, that’s none of my business.’

‘What an odd creature he must be! What does he feel about it all, I wonder?’