An Infamous Army (Alastair-Audley Tetralogy 4)

The entrance of the Colonel put an end to the conversation. He had been dining at the Duke’s table, and seemed to be more concerned with the difficulties of the military situation than with Barbara’s volatility. He sat down with a sigh of relief before the fire, and said: ‘Well! we depart (I need hardly say) at daybreak. It will be a relief to leave these Headquarters behind us. If his temper is to survive this campaign Old Hookey must have a respite from the letters they keep sending from the Horse Guards.’

‘Crusty, is he?’ said Worth.

‘Damned crusty. I don’t blame him: I wouldn’t be in his shoes for a thousand pounds. What is needed is good troops, and all we hear of is general officers. Added to that, the staff which has been employed here is preposterous. One is for ever tumbling over deputy-assistants who are nothing more than subaltern officers, and no more fit for staff duty than your son would be. They are all being turned off, of course, but even so we shall have too many novices still left on the staff.’

‘If I know anything of the matter, you will have more—if Wellington pays any heed to the recommendations he will receive,’ remarked Worth.

‘He don’t, thank the lord! Though, between ourselves, some of those recommendations come from very exalted quarters.’ He stood up. ‘I am off to bed. Have you made up your mind whether you come along with us, or not, Worth?’

‘Yes, as far as to Ghent. Where do you go from there?’

‘Oh, Tournay—Mons! All the fortifications. We shall be away for about a week, I suppose.’

Both men had left the house when Judith came down to breakfast next morning. She sat down at the table, with only The British and Continental Herald to bear her company, and was engaged in perusing the columns of Births, Marriages, and Deaths, when the butler came in to announce the Lady Barbara Childe.

Judith looked up in surprise; she supposed Lady Barbara to be in the salon, but before she could speak that tempestuous beauty had brushed past the butler into the room.

She was dressed in a walking costume, and carried a huge chinchilla muff. She looked pale, and her eyes seemed over-bright to Judith. She glanced round the room, and said abruptly: ‘Charles! I want to see him!’

Judith rose, and came forward. ‘How do you do?’ she said. ‘I am sorry, but my brother has already left for Ghent. I hope it is nothing urgent?’

Barbara exclaimed: ‘Oh, confound it! I wanted to see him! I overslept—it’s those curst drops!’

Her petulance, the violence of the language she used, did nothing to advance her claims to Judith’s kindness. ‘I am sorry. Pray will you not be seated?’

‘Oh no! There’s no use in my staying!’ Barbara replied dejectedly. Her mouth drooped; her eyes were emptied of light; she stood swinging her muff, apparently lost in her own brooding thoughts. Suddenly she looked at Judith, and laughed. ‘Oh, heavens! what did I say? You are certainly offended!’

Judith at once disclaimed. Barbara said, with her air of disarming candour: ‘I am sorry! Only I did wish to see Charles before he left, and I am always cross when I don’t get what I want.’

‘I hope it was not a matter of great importance.’

‘No. That is, I behaved odiously to him yesterday—oh, to you, too, but I don’t care for that! Oh, the devil, now what have I said?’

She looked so rueful, yet had such an imp of mischief dancing behind her solemnity that Judith was obliged to laugh. ‘I wish you will sit down! Have you breakfasted?’

Barbara dropped into a chair. ‘No. I don’t, you know.’ She sighed. ‘Life is using me very hardly today. You will say that is my own fault, but it is nevertheless monstrous that when I do mean to be good, to make amends, I must needs oversleep.’

After a moment’s hesitation, Judith said: ‘You refer, I collect, to your picnic scheme?’

‘Of course. I wanted to tell Charles I was only funning.’

‘You do not mean to go, then!’

‘No.’

‘I am so glad! I was completely taken in, I confess.’

‘Oh no! I did mean to go—yesterday! But Gussie—’ She broke off, grinding her teeth together.

‘Your sister-in-law advised you against the scheme?’

‘On the contrary!’ said Barbara, with an angry little laugh.

‘I don’t think I quite understand?’

‘I daresay you might not. She had the infernal impudence to approve of it. She will be a famous matchmaking mama for her daughters one of these days.’

‘Can you mean that she wishes you to marry the Comte de Lavisse?’ gasped Judith.