A Lady for Lord Randall (Brides of Waterloo)

‘A lady has collapsed, I think,’ said Mary, watching him dash across to the barouche.

‘By heaven, that’s Blanchards’s carriage,’ exclaimed Randall. ‘It must be Augusta.’

He jumped down and would have rushed off, but Mary caught his arm.

‘Wait! Let Bertrand see your sister first. He is a doctor, after all.’

‘Yes, of course.’

He looped the reins over his arm and they made their way towards the carriage. A crowd was already gathered about the barouche, where Bertrand was attending Lady Blanchards while her husband was giving orders for the hood to be raised. It was clear Lord Randall was anxious to know what was happening and Mary offered to hold Pompey while he spoke to his brother-in-law. The earl was back a few minutes later.

‘It appears Augusta has had a touch too much sun, nothing more serious. When she swooned Blanchards panicked and set up a hue and cry, foolish fellow.’

‘Pray do not be so hard upon him,’ protested Mary, half-laughing. ‘He was concerned for his wife.’

‘No reason to set everyone in uproar just because Gussie fainted off. A few moments’ consideration would have told him it was only a trifle.’

‘Not everyone can apply such cold logic to a situation,’ she retorted.

‘You think me cold, Miss Endacott?’ When she did not reply he shrugged. ‘I have already explained to you I am a soldier, I am trained not to make a fuss over such a trifle.’

‘But she is your sister!’

‘What has that to say to anything? She is not in any danger, and besides your doctor is looking after her.’

‘He is not my doctor.’ Mary closed her lips together firmly, wondering why she had been so eager to stress the point.

‘Yet you are on first-name terms.’

‘We are good friends,’ she replied coldly. ‘Nothing more.’

She hunched a shoulder and stared towards the Blanchards’s carriage, hoping Bertrand would return soon and she could leave this disconcerting man.

‘I did not expect to see you today,’ said the earl. ‘I take it you did not know I should be here?’

She did not even think of prevaricating.

‘No, I did not.’ She looked over her shoulder at the colourful ranks of horses and men that covered the vast plain. ‘I am surprised your Rogues were allowed to take part, if all you say of them is true.’

‘Oh, it is true, Miss Endacott. I had to threaten them with the rope’s end to get them into in any shape to be presented to the duke and his entourage.’

‘Even the officers?’

‘Especially the officers.’

She laughed. ‘And your mascot? That shaggy hound I saw at Roosbos?’

‘He is here, but tied to a gun carriage. He is far too undisciplined to let loose. He might well attack Blücher. Or, even worse, Wellington.’

‘Heaven forbid!’

‘That would cause an uproar. He should not be here at all, of course, but it seems the animal is greatly attached to Major Flint and makes a great fuss if they are separated. At least being a dog one can tie him up to keep him out of harm’s way.’

She noted the edge to his voice as he uttered these last words.

‘Would you prefer that the civilians had stayed out of harm’s way, too, my lord?’

‘Not you,’ he said quickly. ‘No. It is my sister. My sisters,’ he corrected himself. He waved towards the carriage. ‘To my mind they would be safer in England. It was only when I arrived here that I learned Blanchards had brought Gussie and Sarah to Brussels. They were in Paris when news of Bonaparte’s escape from Elba became known. I advised my mother to write and summon them home, but to no avail.’