Chapter Seven
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Samuel yawned again. He had stayed up too late dancing the night before and keeping an eye on his badly behaved betrothed. Frederica had flirted outrageously with every man she met. From fortune-hunters to generals. She even blew Samuel a kiss when she was dancing with the Prince of Orange. He tried not to react to her blatant attempts to infuriate him. Even as a little girl, she had always been able to get underneath his skin and get him into trouble.
He kept thinking of their stolen kisses from the first ball she’d attended in Brussels, wishing to repeat the experience. Dreaming about it. Her lips were more practised than any incognita. Her shapely figure would be the envy of any woman. And Frederica was too clever by half. All the mischief that she could get up to in Brussels kept him tossing and turning all night long with his desire for her. Frederica was strong, independent, and completely beautiful. He would have to keep an eye on her to save her from falling into scrapes. They were not in England any more and she couldn’t rely on her family or her name to keep her out of trouble.
‘A word, Pelford,’ General Lord Wellington said.
Samuel followed him to his office. Wellington was a tall man with brown hair and brown eyes under thick brows. His nose was rather large and had a distinctive bump. His lips were thin and pressed tightly together. Despite his air of authority, he was a warm, kind man who cared deeply about his staff members. He made Samuel feel like family. Like he was wanted. Like the words that he spoke mattered.
‘In the situation that we are placed at present,’ the general said, ‘neither at war nor at peace, we are unable to patrol the enemy and ascertain his position by view, or to act offensively upon any part of the French line. All we can do is put our troops in such a situation as, in case of a sudden attack by the enemy, to render them easy to assemble, and to provide against the chance of any being cut off from the rest.’
Samuel sighed, nodding. Their position felt precarious.
Rubbing his nose, Wellington cleared his throat. ‘Colonel Scovell has an idea, and after ruminating on it, I think it is rather a good one. I should like for you to travel farther into Belgium and meet with Lieutenant-Colonel Grant and bring back his findings.’
He forced himself to keep in a groan. Samuel had worked with the surly Scotsman before. He was a fine intelligence officer, but he made no attempt at stealth. Dignity or not, Samuel’s life would be in danger if he was seen in that man’s company. At seventeen, death did not scare him. At four and twenty, there was so much he still wished to do.
Samuel took a sharp intake of breath. One did not say no to the general. ‘Of course, Duke.’
General Lord Wellington pressed his two hands together until his fingertips turned white. ‘I have also heard that congratulations are in order. It took a few weeks to arrive, but I saw the notice of your nuptials inThe Times.’
He could feel his cheeks growing hot and his collar shrinking around his neck like a noose. He pulled at it. ‘Thank you, Your Grace.’
‘And I believe that your betrothed, Lady Frederica Stringham, is now in Brussels with her mother.’
‘Yes.’
An unwanted and unexpected wave of jealously swept through Samuel. The general was known to like beautiful women. More than like them. Despite being married, he collected mistresses wherever he went. And women seemed to be drawn to a man with power.
Wellington’s smile did nothing to ease his discomfort. ‘I hear she is a spirited young lady and Scovell suggested that you might wish to bring her with you, when you meet with Lieutenant-Colonel Colquhoun Grant to pick up his reports. It should allay suspicion from your intelligence activities. Hopefully, people will assume that you are going on pleasure rides with your betrothed.’
He did not know if spending more time with Frederica would be a good thing or not. When he was with her, Samuel could never decide if he would rather wring her neck or kiss her. Or both at the same moment. She loved to infuriate him, and even after all this time, she knew how to press all his buttons. Even if Frederica drove him to the brink of madness daily, he still did not want anything bad to happen to her. It would be dangerous to travel farther into Belgium and be seen in the company of a British Army officer. And he doubted Frederica understood the meaning of the wordcaution.
Swallowing heavily, Samuel said, ‘I think Scovell’s idea is a clever one, but I do not wish to put a lady in danger.’
‘Scovell remarked that Lady Frederica spoke French flawlessly,’ the general pressed. ‘I do not think the danger will be too great. He believes, as do I, that you both will be able to blend into your surroundings. And if anyone notices you, they will only see a young couple devoted to each other.’
Desiring each otherwas more like it, but he would not dream of telling his superior that.
‘Yes, sir.’
Wellington cleared his throat. ‘I should like for you and Lady Frederica to meet Grant tomorrow at midday in the town of Genappe. At a public house called The King of Spain Inn. There, he will give letters for me and perhaps more instructions for you.’
Samuel tried to swallow again, but could not. It was as if there was a ball in his throat obstructing his breathing. He saluted the general. ‘We will be there.’
He left Wellington’s office and went to the room that had a map of the Continent. He placed one finger on Brussels and the other on Genappe. It was close to seventeen miles by road—it could hardly be considered an afternoon jaunt. Even cutting through fields the journey there and back would take nearly seven hours. Not that he thought Frederica wouldn’t be more than able to do it. The Stringhams were a hardy set that swam in freezing rivers and wrestled with wild animals. A thirty-four-mile ride would be nothing to her.
After fetching his hat and gloves, Samuel called for his horse and rode to the rented house on Rue de Lombard where Lady Hampford and her daughter were staying. It did not surprise him that it was one of the nicest and most opulent townhouses in Brussels. The Stringhams spared no expense when it came to their own comfort, or that of their guests.
Harper, the Stringhams’ butler who had once helped him down from a tree after Frederica dared him to climb it, opened the door. When Samuel asked to speak to Lady Frederica privately, the man grinned and acted like he was assisting in a grand love affair. But the butler could not have been more wrong—this meeting was strictly army business. Harper ushered him into a sunny parlour and bid him wait for his betrothed.
Frederica opened the door a few minutes later, wearing a thin wrap over what appeared to be her nightgown. Only his betrothed would meet a visitor thus arrayed. Or rather, disarrayed. The prim garment buttoned up to her neck, but it did not hide her gorgeous figure or the fact that she had recently risen from bed. Her lustrous brown curls were falling in waves over her shoulders and down her back. Her hair was as untamed as she was. And there were no cosmetics on her face, but her countenance appeared fresh and fetching. Samuel’s fingers itched to touch her skin.
She yawned widely, stretching her arms out. ‘I hope someone has died. Otherwise there is no good reason for you to have got me out of bed before I have even had time to drink my hot chocolate.’
Samuel’s lips twitched. ‘Alas, no one has cocked up their toes. I am here at the Duke of Wellington’s request. He wants you to do something for him.’
Frederica raised both eyebrows and stepped closer to him. Her breath smelled like mint. He wondered if she had just eaten some. Samuel would not have put it past the proper Harper to give her the herb. The butler thought that this was a romantic interlude after all.