An Infamous Army (Alastair-Audley Tetralogy 4)

‘I haven’t a notion. He seems to care for nothing in the world but comfort and a quiet life. Poor devil! Fitzroy has been making us laugh with some of his tales of what goes on at the Court.’

‘Oh, has Lord Fitzroy come back with you? I am glad.’

‘So are we all,’ said the Colonel, his eyes twinkling. ‘Headquarters without Fitzroy are apt to become a trifle sultry. By the by, how in the name of all that’s wonderful did that Devenish child come to have such a queer stick of an uncle?’

‘He is only her uncle by marriage,’ Judith answered. ‘Her aunt is perfectly ladylike, you know. And she—’

‘My dear Judith, I meant nothing against her! I daresay she will make some fortunate fellow a capital wife. An heiress, isn’t she?’

She said archly: ‘Yes, a considerable heiress. And yet she doesn’t squint like a bag of nails!’

He put the Cosmopolite down, wrinkling his brow in perplexity. ‘Squint like a bag of nails? You’re quizzing me, Judith! What is the joke?’

‘Have you forgotten my first meeting with you?’

‘Good God, I never can have said such a thing of you!’

‘Very nearly, I assure you! You came into the room where I was standing with your brother, and demanded: “Where is the heiress? Does she squint like a bag of nails? Is she hideous? They always are!’’’

He burst out laughing. ‘Did I indeed? No, I will admit that Miss Devenish doesn’t squint like a bag of nails. She is a very pretty girl—but I wonder what troubles her?’

‘Troubles her?’ she repeated in accents of surprise. ‘Why, what should trouble her?’

‘How should I know? I thought perhaps you might.’

‘No, indeed! You have certainly imagined it. She is reserved, I know, and I could wish that that were not so, but I believe it to be due to a shyness very understandable in a girl living in her circumstances. Do you find it objectionable?’

‘Not in the least. I merely feel a little curiosity to know what causes it. There is a look in the eye—but you will say I am indulging my fancy!’

‘But, Charles, what can you mean? There is a gravity, I own. I have found it particularly pleasing in this age of volatile young females.’

‘Oh, more than that!’ he said. ‘I had almost called it a guarded look. I am sure she is not quite happy. But it is infamous of me to be discussing her in this way, after all! It is nothing but nonsense, of course.’

‘I hope it may be found so,’ replied Judith. ‘I have been told nothing of any secret sorrow, I assure you.’

She said no more, but she was not ill-pleased. Charles seemed to have been studying Lucy closely, and although she could not but be amused at the romantic trend of his reflections, she was glad to find that he had found her young friend of so much interest.

But at seven o’clock next morning Charles was riding down the Allée Verte, no thought of Lucy Devenish in his head. He cantered to the bridge at the end of the Allée without encountering Barbara, and dismounted there to watch the painted barges drifting up the canal. Fashionable people were not yet abroad, but a couple of Flemish wagons, drawn by teams of fat horses, passed over the bridge. The drivers walked beside him, guiding the horses by means of cord reins passed through haims studded with brass nails. Bright tassels and fringes decorated the horses’ harness, and the blue smocks worn by the drivers were embroidered with worsted. They wore red nightcaps on their heads, and wooden sabots on their feet, over striped stockings. The horses, like all Colonel Audley had seen in the Netherlands, were huge beasts, and very fat. Good forage to be had, he reflected, thinking of the English cavalry and horse artillery on the way to Ostend. From what he had seen of the country it was rich enough to supply forage for several armies. Wherever one rode one found richly cultivated fields, with crops of flax and wheat growing in almost fabulous luxuriance. The Flemish farmers manured their land lavishly; very malodorous it could be, he thought, remembering his journey through the Netherlands the previous year. Except for the woods and copses dotted over the land the whole country seemed to be under cultivation. There should be no difficulty in feeding the Allied Army: but the Flemish were a grasping race, he had been told.

A gendarme in a blue uniform, with white grenades, and high, gleaming boots, rode over the bridge, glancing curiously at the Colonel, who was still leaning his elbows on the parapet and watching the slow canal traffic. He passed on, riding towards Brussels, and for some little time the Colonel’s solitude was undisturbed. But presently, glancing down the Allée he saw a horse approaching in the distance, and caug

ht the flutter of a pale blue skirt. He swung himself into the saddle, and rode to meet the Lady Barbara.

She came galloping towards him and reined in. Cheeks and eyes were glowing; she stretched out her hand, and exclaimed: ‘I thought you still in Ghent! This is famous!’

He leaned forward in the saddle to take her hand; it grasped his strongly. ‘I have been bored to death!’ Barbara said. ‘Confound you, I have missed you damnably!’

‘Excellent! There is only one remedy,’ he said.

‘To marry you?’

He nodded, still holding her hand.

She said candidly: ‘So I feel today. You are haunting me, do you know? But in a week, who knows but that I may have changed my mind?’

‘I’ll take that risk.’

‘Will you?’ She considered him, a rather mischievous smile hovering on her lips. ‘You have not kissed me, Charles,’ she murmured.