‘Who is it?’ I demanded.
All I could see was a coach rolling down the driveway. There was no coat of arms on the door, no emblem of any kind. Either whoever was in there was not of noble blood, or it was a rented coach.
Please let it be a nobody! Someone thoroughly ineligible, unmarriageable, and if possible, male, old and ugly!
‘Well? Who is it? Who is coming?’
‘I don’t know yet! Come! Let’s go and greet them!’
I took a tighter grip on my parasol. ‘Yes…that might not be a bad idea.’
Behind me, Mr Ambrose’s hand shot out and plucked the parasol from my fingers. I only had time for a brief glare before Adaira flung open the door. Lady Samantha appeared beside us, not tall at all, but nevertheless as regal as any queen, her blue eyes shining with warmth and welcome.
Please don’t let it be the first load of ladies! The thought repeated in my head over and over, a fervent prayer. Please! Let it be anybody, anything else!
Which just goes to show - you should be careful what you wish for.
The coach slowed, rolling in a circle around the frozen fountain until it came to a halt in front of the portico. I could see figures shifting inside, and breathed a sigh of relief. These were not ladies - unless young ladies had, in time since I’d last checked, developed big, broad shoulders, beards and a penchant for red and golden uniforms.
We were standing on the portico steps and watched as the first of the men climbed out of the coach. The marchioness stepped forward, a broad smile on her face.
‘Welcome, gentlemen. Welcome to Battlewood. I am Samantha Genevieve Ambrose, The Marchioness Ambrose.’
‘A pleasure, Your Ladyship.’ The foremost of the officers, whose big bulk hid most of the others, made a deep bow that nearly toppled him over. ‘May I say how much I and my comrades in arms appreciate your kind invitation?’
‘Oh, you’re very kind, Major…?’
‘Strickland, Your Ladyship. Major Anthony Strickland. May I introduce my fellow officers?’
‘By all means do so.’
With a smile on his plump face, the major stepped far enough aside to allow a semi-free view of his subordinates. ‘This is Lieutenant Woodard. Here we have Lieutenants Hartley, Cooley, and McGraw. And…hey, come out, what are you waiting for?’
‘Coming, Sir!’
The voice from inside the coach was like a bucket of ice water in the face. For an instant, I thought my heart had stopped. A moment later, a familiar head of mahogany curls appeared from the coach. My breath caught, and I felt Mr Ambrose’s cool gaze bore into me.
‘Here’s my right hand, the golden boy of our regiment, and the ladies’ favourite - Captain James Carter!’
Opposing Armies
‘A pleasure to make your acquaintance,’ Captain James Carter said, unfolding himself from the coach and bowing deeply to our little group. ‘A true plea-’
Then he noticed me.
His mouth dropped open, and he stared at me unblinkingly.
If Mr Ambrose’s eyes had been burning into me with icy cold before, it was nothing compared to what they did now. My ears started to heat. Why the heck were my ears turning red? I had done nothing wrong!
Right?
‘What’s the matter, Carter?’ The major chuckled. ‘Stunned by the ladies’ charms, are you?’
‘No. Well…yes, Sir. Of course. But it’s not just that.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I just noticed that I am already acquainted with one of the ladies.’ And, right there, under the icy gaze of Mr Rikkard Ambrose, he stepped forward, bent over my hand, and pressed a kiss on its back.
Now it wasn’t just Rikkard Ambrose who was boring holes into me with his gaze. I could feel the stares of Lady Adaira, Major Strickland and Lieutenants Woodard, Hartley, Cooley, and McWhat’s-his-name on me equally intense, if not nearly as frigid. Only Lady Samantha, I noticed, wasn’t watching me. She was watching her son watching me with considerable interest.
‘Delighted to see you again, Miss Linton.’ Captain Carter’s words tore me from my thoughts. ‘I’ve thought of you often since last we met, and I wondered when luck would grant me the chance of renewing our acquaintance.’