She laughed so hard that she snorted.
Frederica touched his arm. ‘You are right! Miss Crawford deserved at least an eldest son.’
Picking up her hand, he tucked it in his arm. ‘Shall we go and find the refreshments? I have yet to have my dinner and if we stand here much longer, I might be forced to eat you.’
Frederica could not hold in her giggle. Samuel was hardest not to like when he was witty. ‘I suppose so, however, I am not afraid of your bite.’
His eyelids lowered and he whispered, ‘I’ll remind you of that the next time we are alone.’
‘Please do,’ she said primly, even though a proper young lady would never say such a thing.
She guided him past the refreshment tables down the stairs and to the kitchens. The light desserts on display would not satisfy a man of his size. In French, she asked the chef to prepare a plate for Samuel. Then they shocked both the English and Belgian servants by sitting at the kitchen table. Samuel ate his chicken like a man who had not tasted food in a week.
‘It is a good thing that I didn’t know how voracious your appetite is,’ Frederica said, raising her eyebrows. ‘When I offered to let you bite me, I was thinking of little nibbles.’
A blush stole into his cheeks, but Samuel smiled at her. ‘I have had nothing to eat since this morning. I have been too busy.’
Leaning closer to him, she asked, ‘May I ask how?’
She steeled herself for his rebuff as he shook his head slowly.
Samuel cleared his throat, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. ‘There is too much to do and not enough soldiers to do it. The dispatches we retrieved from Grant say that Napoleon will go on the offensive to avoid a four-front war. His first target will be us and our allies the Prussians.’
She touched her neck. ‘What size is the French army?’
Biting his lower lip, Samuel sighed. ‘Currently over two hundred thousand and they are all volunteers—veterans from Napoleon’s previous wars.’
‘And the British forces?’
‘Wellington has called it“an infamous army, very weak and ill-equipped, and a very inexperienced staff”.’
Frederica bristled at this, offended on Samuel’s behalf. Reaching across the table, she placed her hand on his arm. ‘Surely, he does not mean that you are inexperienced. You were also his aide-de-camp in the Peninsular War.’
Covering her hand with his own, Samuel sighed again. ‘Thank you, Frederica. When he said it, Wellington did not mean me, Gordon, or Fitzroy, nor his returning staff from the Peninsula, but rather Sir Hudson Lowe. Horse Guards made him chief staff officer without consulting the general. Wellington has written home to complain, but there may not be time before the battle to replace him.’
Frederica did not precisely know how a general’s staff worked and it did not help that her mind was equally focused on the pleasant weight and pressure of Samuel’s hand upon hers. Even more so now that he was finally confiding in her. She could not let this moment pass. Cudgelling her wits, she managed to ask, ‘Is Lowe’s incompetence keeping you busy?’
‘We are in a very bad way,’ he admitted, rubbing his thumb over her fingers. ‘We have not one quarter of the ammunition which we ought to have, on account of the deficiency of our drivers and carriages. Our soldiers are inexperienced and ill-equipped. I feel as if I spend from sunup to sundown putting out fires instead of preparing for the upcoming battle.’
Her stomach hardened. Had her presence in Brussels made his life more difficult? She watched him finish off his plate and asked if he would like more.
Samuel gave her a tired smile. ‘No, thank you. The general expects us to attend parties and keep up appearances. It was much easier in the Peninsula when we did not have thetonwatching our progress like a scene in a play.’
‘Do you wish I was not here?’
He stood up slowly, like a man twice his age. He must be exhausted. ‘I should wish you safely in England, but I am selfishly glad you are here. There is no one else that I’d rather spy with.’
Frederica linked her arm with his. ‘You mean intelligence officer with.’
‘Call me a spy and I will kiss you,’ he said, repeating her words from that fateful morning.
Glancing around the kitchen, there were servants coming in and out. There was no place to be private.
‘Scared?’ he taunted softly.
Drat, Samuel! He knew that she would never back down from a challenge. Especially not one from him.
Bold as brass, she lifted her chin. ‘My Lord Spy.’