‘My father is a naturalist. I know that cats do not have nine lives,’ Frederica protested. ‘For once, do be serious. Promise me that you will do everything in your power to come back to me.’
‘I promise,’ he whispered, and the words felt more solemn and holy than vows spoken in a church.
Frederica felt too overcome to speak, so instead she flung herself into his arms and held him tightly. Wishing that she was brave enough to tell him how she truly felt. Hoping that somehow, he knew.
Chapter Thirteen
Samuel delivered the wrinkled dispatch directly into Wellington’s hands. He was slightly curious to know what it contained, but knew better than to ask. The general would tell him what he wished for him to know.
Retrieving the dispatch was becoming more perilous, Samuel thought as he took a drink of water. The waiter, Peters, had entered the private parlour without knocking. Even the greenest of servants knew that they were supposed to wait before coming into a room. The Frenchman had a broken nose and the build of a bruiser. Samuel was pretty sure that the man had once been a soldier and that he was one still, or at least reporting their movements back to the French army. For all he knew, the innkeeper was also an informant.
He should not allow Frederica to continue accompanying him to The King of Spain Inn. Grant was right. It was not safe. But refusing Frederica something only made her want it more. She might even try to go without him. No, the best and only course of action was to go with her and remain alert. And he would need to tell Grant about his suspicions.
Frederica.
Samuel could not recall her becoming maudlin before. Yet, he was certain at the inn that she had been holding back tears and she made him promise to come back to her. From another young woman those words might have been the sentiment of a friend. From Frederica, they were practically a declaration of love. Who would have thought it?
What was even more surprising was that he was eager to marry her and not only to enjoy his husbandly privileges. Although, he would be lying to himself if he did not admit how eager he was to bed her. She had him running hotter than a buck in mating season most of the time. But it was more than desire. He enjoyed her witty tongue and not just for kissing. Her mind was rare and sharp. She would make a wonderful companion and an even better confidant. He could see them building a life together. Theirs would be a marriage of equals. Frederica’s gifts and talents would complement his. Their children would grow up in a close and adventurous family, like the Stringhams, whom he had always been so envious of. He could see Frederica slowly transforming Farleigh Palace from a stately building into a warm home. Samuel would become the father that he had always wanted. One like the Duke of Hampford, who taught his children how to ride and swim and shoot. A father who hugged and loved his children. Who made them feel special.
If he survived the war.
Samuel had made her a promise that he could not keep. One that no soldier could. He only prayed that he would be lucky again. His mind whirled with painful memories. Fitzsimmons had not been so fortunate—a sword through his chest. Neither had McGovern—a bullet to his head. Officers, soldiers, even drummer boys were lost in every battle. He could not depend on his former luck. No. He needed to share his confidences with her now. Before the battle. And he needed to write three letters in case he never returned home. He could not leave these words unshared. The first to his mother. The second to Jeremy. And the last to Frederica.
Taking out a sheet of hot press paper, he dipped the pen in the ink bottle.
Dearest Mama,
If you are receiving this, I am not coming home. Please know how much I love you and please forgive me for not returning sooner and helping you with the burden that you have had to carry on your own. I am sorry that I ran away, from home, from Father, and from our family.
He lifted the nib of the pen to his lips. Samuel had left home at seventeen, still a youth. But seven years in the army had made him a man. And now his brother was fifteen, nearly the same age. He hoped that he would be there to guide Jeremy. To help him when he overran his allowance or prevent him from being taken advantage of by the gulls and captain-sharps of society. To prepare him for a profession or a life in Parliament. One letter would not be nearly enough to convey all that he had learned to his brother.
‘Skimping out on working, I see,’ Slender Billy said, leaning on the door-frame.
Samuel set down the pen. ‘Writing my goodbyes. I never got around to doing them before.’
The prince slunk into the room with the ease of a royal and sat on the edge of the desk. He lifted his fingers up and spoke in a mock, deep voice. ‘I really believe that I have got not only the worst troops, but the worst-equipped army, with the worst staff that was ever brought together.’
Sighing, Samuel said, ‘I see that you have been talking to Wellington. He is not pleased with any of the arrangements or appointments from the Horse Guards. Nor the promotions made by the Duke of York.’
Slender Billy folded his arms. ‘I told you that you should have joined my staff. I have the best troops, the best equipment, and the best staff that has ever been brought together.’
A smile played on his lips, but Samuel tried to squash it. ‘Is it better to be overly positive or pessimistically negative about one’s chances?’
‘Confidence is worth a cavalry in my opinion.’
‘In your case, I should say it is worth three companies of cavalry.’
Billy laughed and gave Samuel a playful push on the arm. ‘Shall we go out and dance, drink, and be merry before we die?’
Samuel got to his feet. ‘Why not?’
Chapter Fourteen
Thanks to her rides with Samuel, Frederica knew every road that led into the great city of Brussels and all the good nooks and crannies for stolen kisses. This morning she did not see Samuel but Captain Mark Wallace, riding towards her on his cousin’s black stallion. She waved to him, smiling.
Mark took off his hat, grinning back at her. ‘Might I take the place of your fiancé this morning?’
She touched her hat. ‘The position of fiancé is already taken, but you’re welcome to be my groom.’