Jack introduced him to Duncan and after a few pleasantries, hoped to go to Letty and be sitting when she smiled at him again. Instead, Craven pulled him aside.

  “I say, old bean, can you introduce me to the goddess in white sitting over there?” He pointed an elbow in Letty’s direction. Jack mentally swore, but then smiled. “Yes, I can.” With Duncan, Jack led Reginald over to Letty. Her smile now was small and tight.

  ~ ~ ~

  Letty smiled, happy to see Jack strolling towards her in that loose, manly gait only cavalrymen seemed to possess. Before he and Captain McTodd reached her, a smaller man in cavalry blue called to Jack and greeted him. Disappointed that Jack had been waylaid, it turned into irritation when they approached seeking an introduction for their acquaintance.

  “Lady Mimolette, you are a vision of light and beauty this evening.” Jack bowed.

  Letty gave him a placid expression in response to his formal, but flowery address.

  “Lord Major Tremaine.” She nodded. “How nice to see you. And you Captain Duncan.”

  Jack introduced the colonel, who gave an exaggerated bow. Letty inwardly sighed and began the formalities. “How are you enjoying the Grenville’s Ball?

  “A magnificent effort, eh wot? I have been enjoying the music and dance. An exceedingly marvelous group of musicians, don’t you think?

  “They are very proficient. I too have been enjoying the music.”

  “Would you care for a dance, my lady?” Craven held out a hand as a Waltz was called.”

  “I am sorry, Lord Craven. I don’t dance. However, Miss Prudence Stout is a very graceful dancer.” Miss Stout sitting against the wall, stood, and flounced over to them, a broad, mischievous smile on her lips. Lanky, she stood taller than Colonel Craven.

  The look on Lord Craven’s face was worth the interruption as far as Jack was concerned. She introduced Miss Stout who curtsied low, colonel’s returning bow needing to match it. His balding pate glowed in the gaslight.

  “I, err, I say, Miss Stout.” Lord Craven gave a speculative smile to Lady Mimolette, communicating his sacrifice for her good favor. “Would you care to dance?”

  “Would I? You silly man.” She gave a brutally effervescent laugh and took his hand.

  With that, she led him out onto the dance floor. Duncan, always a gentleman, did his duty and asked for an introduction to the only other miss still sitting, a Miss Jane Peabody. He led her to stand in the circle, ready for the Waltz to begin.

  Jack looked back at the empty chairs, and then sat next to her. “We appear to be very alone, Letty.”

  See smiled at him and his drole delivery. “Yes, Jack, we do.”

  “I would say victory is yours, with all the attending Gillyflowers out dancing.”

  “And some with gentlemen they actually want to dance with. It is quite an accomplishment.”

  “And what of you, Letty?”

  “Me? What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you have achieved so much for others. What do you want to achieve for yourself?”

  She shot him a put-upon frown. “Is this your notion of pleasant repartee during a ball?”

  He looked around at others talking and dancing. “Why yes, I believe it is.” At her continued frown, he said, “What? Speaking of your goals and future isn’t pleasant?”

  Her face prickled, his comment too close to her views of her future. “I feel sir, you should practice more, because these provoking questions are not pleasant.”

  “Ah, practice pleasant repartee. Let’s see. Did you hear about the stormy, brimstone sermon given by the visiting preacher in St. George’s?” Letty shook her head. “The sermon proved so melting, so strong with damnation, it had the entire congregation in tears, weeping and wailing . . .except one dry-eyed man.”

  She looked at him, not sure what he was about. “So, why wasn’t the man in tears too?”

  “Just as you, the preacher wanted to know. He went to the man and asked right there why he didn’t weep with the rest. The man surprised by the question said, “Oh, I belong to another parish.”

  Letty frowned, but could not help but chuckle at the silly joke.

  “Pleasant enough?”

  She refused to give him the satisfaction and said nothing.

  He eyed her, scratching his chin. “Like you, there was once a gentle lady who felt annoyed when a gentleman, like me, asked something unpleasant. This gentleman, in name only, of course, asked the lady’s age, and he persisted. She finally said, ‘I am but forty, sir.’ This obstinate man doubted her word, if you can believe such crassness. Very put out, the lady turned to her cousin who sat with her, asking him to verify the truth of it. ‘Cousin,’ said she, ‘do you believe I am in the Right, when I say I am but Forty?’ He replied, ‘I cannot dispute it, Madam, for I have heard you say so these past ten years.”

  Then Letty did laugh, shaking her head. “You are a notion, sir, a true goose cap.

  “Perhaps, but I did pull a laugh from you. Having first annoyed you, that is a victory.”

  Seeing that the Waltz set was about to end, Jack said, pointing to the French doors lining one wall, “Would you care to take the air out on the terrace?” Seeing her hesitation, he stood, holding out his hand. “Or we can wait a short minute when Miss Stout and Colonel Craven return, and we can all have a nice chat.”

  Letty tapped her knee considering that prospect. With little thought, she stood and took Jack’s arm. “Lead on, McDuff.”

  He grinned at her. “Don’t use that literary reference around Captain McTodd, not unless you want to see an example of the Highland Frenzy. He believes the play McBeth a Shakespearian scheme to portray the Scots as simpletons, which encouraged the English invasion.”

  Out on the terrace, groups and couples could be seen, not only on the flagstones, but in the gardens beyond. Jack went to the balustrade and surveyed the gardens. “Do you think we should go hunting for a fountain or two?”

  Letty shook her head. “I came here once with Emily’s family when William Grenville led the Whig ‘Ministry of Talents’. She and I explored the gardens then. There was only one water feature, a sad little rivulet not worth the effort.” He brushed off a stone bench near a set of brass urns and invited her to sit down.

  “What is so special about sounds of the Cosingwell’s fountain?”

  Letty pulled up a corner of her mouth at his continual questions. “I don’t— “

  “Do that again. When you move your mouth like that, the prettiest dimple appears.”

  “Really, Lord . . .Jack, you are shading outside the lines.

  “Am I now? Do you say that when I admire you, or when I embarrass you with that admiration?”

  Letty sputtered. “You, you are the most . . .” She laughed at herself and gave him a playful squint of reproach. Beyond anything else, his conversations were unexpected and entertaining.

  They fell into a comfortable conversation about how she enjoyed the sound of water, how the Cosingwell’s fountain made her feel, and Jack’s remembering the powerful vibrations caused by the Spanish waterfall of Pozo de los Humos near Salamanca.

  He stood in his exuberance declaring how high the falls were, and kicked over one of the urns. It in turn knocked over the rest like dominos falling, the metallic clanging reverberating well after they’d fallen. Jack suddenly covered his head and fell to his knees, cowering, hunched over like the urns were going to fall on his head. Letty laughed at his play acting as did the others on the terrace.

  When Jack stood up and sat down on the bench, Letty stopped laughing. His face shone white in the ballroom lights, stretched thin with terror, eyes wide.

  She moved closer across the bench. “Jack, what . . .?”

  “No.” He held up a trembling hand. “It, it will pass in a moment.” He gripped the edges of the bench with both hands, stiff, looking around to make sure no one had noticed.

  Letty sat back, holding herself, and waited. After a time, he took a deep breath and wiped the sheen of sweat off his forehead. Sitting up straight, he said, “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  Letty leaned over and whispered, “What did I see?”

  Jack gave her a shaky smile. “My . . . I don’t know, my cowardice?” When Letty gave him a confused, “What?” he nodded, his jaw muscles bunching so tightly she feared he’d crack a tooth.

  It was at The Nive. I was leading the squadrons in pursuit of the French. French Chasseurs ambushed us. We counter-charged and the two sides become intermingled.” He closed his eyes. “It was a maelstrom of swinging sabers ringing off enemy steel. Men were being cut down left and right. I was leading and suddenly found the French all around me. There were three Frenchmen slashing at me from all sides. I beat away their attacks as best I could, but one blow got through and cut my thigh to the bone.” He drew a line across his left thigh. I faltered at that point, and they attacked with greater fury. Steel ringing on steel filled the air, an assault all its own. My saber was . . . knocked out of my hand. I was helpless. I covered my head expecting those sharp swords to slice me up like a holiday ham. But the sabers didn’t fall. Charles and Duncan were there with our hussars and beat them back.” He stared at the ground, elbows on his knees.

  “Now, every time I hear those sounds, metal ringing off metal, someone sharping a knife, hammer on tin, anything.” He waved a hand at the toppled urns flashing bronze in the lights from the ballroom. “I am instantly back in that moment.” I didn’t realize how that affected me until Orthez. We were about to charge, sabers out, and I broke out in a cold sweat, shaking in my boots. It was all I could do to yell, repeating the colonel’s orders and kick my horse into a walk, then trot and then—my Athena moved to the gallop on her own. The closer we came to impact with the French dragoons, the stiffer I became, frozen with fear. I do not remember anything after that. When I came to, I was facing back the way the regiment had come, bodies everywhere, horses screaming. The French cavalry had disappeared.”

  “What happened?” Letty didn’t know what to say or do.

  Jack gave a grunt and a sick smile. “The colonel praised me for my heroism and included my name in Wellington’s dispatches.” It seems Athena carried me straight through the dragoons, the regiment fighting all the harder to keep up with me. All I lost was my shako. Charles told me I was a damn fool to ride ahead like that after The Nive. I couldn’t tell them I’d fainted from fright.”

  Jack had returned to normal, though there was still a slight tremor in his hands. She sat with him for some time, quiet for she couldn’t think of anything to say. “I’m sorry it happened, Jack. It is a horror, but I am not sure how you can call it cowardice. A coward wouldn’t have charged at all instead of facing their fears.”

  “Thank you for that.”

  “From what Emily says, you mention in your letters being in several cavalry fights before Vitoria, and wounded, though not as severely. Why this one?

  “I don’t know, maybe it was a combination of being badly wounded, outnumbered, helpless without my sword, and having seen the horrors inflicted on friend and foe in similar fights.” I can’t fool myself. I am worthless as a cavalryman unless I can beat this, this whatever it is.”

  “This doesn’t sound like the ‘good’ you speak of regarding war.”

  “No, it isn’t, but my wound did lead to the good.” He paused to look at her. “I may tell you that story sometime.”

  At that moment, Letty saw Ovolina beckoning them. Jack stood and offering Letty his arm, saying, “Please don’t tell anyone about this.” Letty gave him a reproachful look, as if she ever would. He gave her a grateful nod. “Thank you, and for listening. I haven’t been prompted to speak of this to anyone.”

  Letty gave him a half smile. “I believe, my lord, you were forced to explain it to me. Whatever the reason, I am glad I was there.” The bright lights of the ballroom were harsh after the soft evening glow.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Too Many Parties, Too Much Fun

  Si vous trébuchez, intégrez-le à la danse.

  [ If you stumble, make it part of the dance ]

  —Every French person’s Mantra

  Saturday Evening, June 25.

  “What are you doing, Letty?”

  Letty glanced at Treccia, but continued rifling through their mother’s jewelry. “I know there is green jade and opal necklace in one of these jewelry boxes. It goes with the opal earrings.”

  Treccia sat on the bed in Letty’s bedroom, wearing her petticoat, scratching her arm watching her. “When have you ever thought of wearing anything but that old string of pearls?

  “Now. I have thought of it now.” She opened another box and exclaimed, “Ha! I knew it was in here. Help me put this on.” She turned her back to Treccia and she attached the ends. Turning back to face her sister, Letty stood straight. “What do you think?”

  “You are as lovely as ever. The green gives some sparkle to your otherwise very white dress.” Treccia frowned, hand on her chin. “Why don’t you wear something, well, more stylish, more colorful? I mean, I know you want to stand out among all the colorful dresses others are wearing, but really. This is the Cosingwells. We have been to their parties dozens of times. Why not try something different.”

  “This is also the only dress that covers my feet when I’m sitting.”

  “I don’t think anyone will notice if the toes of your shoes peek out. Besides, you can have dresses cut any length.”

  “I don’t want to take that chance. Besides the money, you know how dressmakers talk. ”

  Treccia sighed in resignation and asked Letty to help with her new dress, which was a pretty peach and yellow confection.

  Treccia thought it was ridiculous to take their carriage from South Street to the Cosingwell’s no more than three blocks away, but Letty insisted. “Appearances. Call Lina and we can go. We are already fashionably late.”

  Once in the carriage, Ovolina sat smiling, gazing out the window.

  Treccia popped her sister in the arm. “What are you looking at with that silly grin on your face.”

  Ovolina hit Treccia back. “You’re just unhappy because Mr. Everhard isn’t invited to this party.”

  “Nothing of the kind.” Treccia squinted at her sister. “I’ll wager you were dreaming of the tall Captain Whitebread.” Ovolina just shrugged. “You know, if you marry him, you will be Mrs. Whitebread.” Lina stuck her tongue out, so Treccia finished by saying, “At home dinners will be all beer and loaves.” At that point, the girls started calling each other names based on their beau’s surname. It quickly became fierce, but too funny. Letty broke it up before she began laughing.

  The receiving line was short, making the magnificent hall appear much larger than the family’s usually crowded events. Emily had informed Letty that there would only be one hundred guests, their closest friends. When announced, Emily left the receiving line to greet Letty with a hug and a kiss for the sisters. She escorted them past the line, but Lady Cosingwell fluttered over to say, “The boys are here and already diligently dancing.” The lady was enjoying her covert part in the Gillyflowers’ activities.

  Emily wrinkled her nose at this, but quietly said, “The boys, really. Jack and Captain Whitebread have been quite vigilant, anticipating your arrival. They are dancing in the ballroom. There are card games in the cardroom, music and singing in the music room, lawn games in the garden,” she said, throwing out her arms, “and food everywhere.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Jack danced with Miss Peeny, which she enjoyed, not only because Jack met her requirements for a competent dancer, but also because of the gentleman who watched them intently, a Mr. Bodicomb. She just glowed when she said to Jack, “I think he’s jealous.” Jack gave her an extra twirl at the end of the reel in front of Mr. Bodicomb standing on the side. Then escorted her to the gentleman, giving him a wink. Mr. Bodicomb’s dance was next.

  Looking about, he didn’t see the Lindsey sisters, nor had he heard them announced. The six Gillyflowers attending already knew their quarry for tonight. The Cosingwells invited the men especially, being identified as shy, but well-heeled. There had been some plotting to have the ladies escorted about, taking in the various venues and activities. Jack was sure the men didn’t stand a chance tonight.

  Jack sat with Charles and watched Duncan scumfish. Having danced with two of the Gillyflowers already, he had gained an introduction to a real beauty through his last partner. Jack bounced his bad leg, telling Charles it kept the muscles loose. What a canard.

  He was just plain anxious. He remained embarrassed by his ‘spell’ as they were called, when not ‘battle mad’ or ‘wind foolish,’ the insanity caused by the concussive force of passing cannon balls. Not even Duncan or Chales knew about his spells. Can a woman still respect a man who has panicked like a frightened little boy all because of some urns toppling? It stole the wind from his sails. He found that Letty’s opinion of him had become important in the last two weeks.

  Letty and her sisters stood at the entrance to the ballroom, peering about until they saw Charles and Jack. They both rose and walked across the ballroom to the women, as the next dances hadn’t been called yet. There were smiles all around in greeting. Both men bowed and complimented the ladies on their appearance. After a brief discussion, Ovolina and Charles went off to the music room. Letty bit her lip, less decisive.

  Seeing no reserve in her address where he was concerned gratified him. Jack chuckled at her indecision. She glanced around the ballroom, noting where her ladies were engaged. “General, your troops have met the enemy and are finding success on the battlefield.”

  Letty gave a piqued twist of her mouth. “I suppose your description is apropos. I have heard that the ballroom is a lady’s battleground.”

  Smiling at this, Jack stepped closer. “As there is no current need for your beauty, allure, and direction, and as you don’t dance, perhaps another activity? Games in the garden can be enjoyable by candlelight.” He let the innuendo linger before saying, “Croquet?”

  Letty cocked her head and raised her eyebrows, acknowledging the allusion. A captivating expression, Jack thought. “Croquet it is.”

 

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