The good woman fetched the hat and even tied it around Frederica’s chin. Frederica thanked her profusely before walking outside, grateful not to have to lift her arms again. Samuel stood near both horses and was speaking to Monsieur Janssens. She could see that their packs had been tied to their saddles and that their water jugs were refilled. The innkeeper doffed his hat to her and Samuel kneeled, cupping his hands. Taking a deep breath, she put her boot in his hands and allowed him to lift her onto her grey. She felt a jolt of pain when she sat down in the side-saddle, but forced herself to take the reins. Her fingers closed tightly around them.
Samuel mounted his own horse and they rode to the gates of the city, where several cavalry officers stood guard. They halted for a moment and she heard her husband warn them that the French army was coming and to prepare for battle. He saluted the captain in charge and then urged his horse forward. Frederica followed behind him. The up and down movement caused her wound to throb, but they had to continue. A young woman was not safe near an army, even if she had a bullet hole in her side.
After an hour, she sagged in the saddle and Samuel took the reins of her horse and guided both animals. She could no longer control her grey. It took all her stubbornness to stay seated. More than once, she had to catch herself from slipping off. Placing her hand on her wound, she felt a little blood seeping through her wool dress. She prayed that the stitches would hold a little longer.
How she remained on the back of her horse for another four hours, she did not know. All that she did comprehend is that by the time they reached the edge of the city of Brussels, each and every part of her body ached.
Samuel brought their horses to a halt. ‘Shall I return you to your mother’s house?’
Frederica shook her head roughly. ‘I do not think that I am strong enough yet to deal with her wrath.’
Taking off his hat, he raked one hand through his hair. ‘I confess I have always been a little afraid of your mother. Would you mind staying in my room at headquarters until you have been rested? I am sure that it is not as large or as fine as yours.’
Bile rose in her throat and her head felt dizzy. ‘At this moment, I could happily lie down in the middle of the street.’
He touched her leg and rubbed it gently with his hand, like you would to calm a spooked horse. ‘Hold on for just a little longer.’
With a click of his tongue, he guided their tired mounts through the city to the Rue Royale. Several guards were stationed outside of it and then pointed their weapons at the pair.
Samuel took off his hat again. ‘I am Colonel Lord Pelford reporting to General Lord Wellington. Go and fetch a surgeon at once.’
The guards lowered their weapons and two men moved forward to take the reins of their horses. Samuel easily slid out of his saddle and moved to help her down. He put his hands on her thighs, rather than her waist, to lift her off her spent mare. His arms moved to encircle her as her knees gave way. She could not stand or walk. Her head felt like a horse had sat on it. There was not a spot on her body that did not throb in pain. Touching her temples, she winced.
Samuel lifted her up into his arms and carried her into the large house that Wellington and his staff occupied. Several soldiers saluted her husband as he weaved through the hall and up the stairs to presumably his room. He kicked open the door and then set her gently on top of the bed.
‘Close your eyes. I will be back in a few minutes to take care of you,’ he promised. ‘I must first tell Wellington that Napoleon has brought with him Marshal Grouchy and Marshal Ney to command. And that the wily little emperor has taken the path through Mons.’
For the first time in her life, she obeyed him. Closing her eyes, Frederica let oblivion take her.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Samuel waited the next afternoon for the doctor to arrive and check on Frederica again. The night before, all the man had done was prescribe laudanum. It had eased the pain a little, but Frederica said that the hot bath and her red soap had helped more. She ate breakfast with him in bed, but was taking a nap now. Her colour was much better and he hoped that she would make a full recovery. All he could say for certain was that her tongue and wit had returned in full force. When Mr Dunford had found her in Samuel’s bed, she’d teased his poor valet until the man was as red in the face as a bowl of cherries and he’d fled the room like a delicately nurtured debutante intent on keeping their reputation unsullied.
While looking out the window, a soldier tapped him on the shoulder and told him to report to Wellington’s office. Samuel did so at once, along with several other staff members. The general told them to sit down around the table.
‘The Prince of Orange writes that his troops have not been engaged, but the town of Binche is now occupied by the French and the Prussians driven out.’
Slender Billy.
He said a silent prayer of gratitude that his friend was not harmed.
DeLancey breathed in deeply. ‘It has begun.’
‘Ah, this letter from the Prussians explains that their first corps was attacked around Charleroi shortly after dawn, before five o’clock in the morning,’ Wellington said, stabbing the paper with his pointer finger. ‘Damn me, this dispatch is vague. Not a word about the size of the French force. This strike could be a trick, a feint, to pull us away from his real target. I dare not offer aid to the Prussians until I am sure of Napoleon’s position.’
DeLancey stood. ‘Lord Wellington, every ranking officer has been invited to the Duchess of Richmond’s ball tonight. Shall I instruct them not to go, but to stand to ready for orders?’
‘No,’ Wellington said authoritatively. ‘All members of my staff will attend the Duchess of Richmond’s ball. If we were to cancel it, it would only encourage the Belgians who are loyal to France. No, we will go. We will smile and we will hearten our soldiers. DeLancey, have any dispatch brought directly to me at the ball.’
‘Yes, Your Grace.’
Samuel did not think he could dance the night before a battle.
Wellington glanced at the other three men. ‘The rest of you, go and put on your best dress uniforms, and I will meet with you again at the ball, where I will give you further orders.’
He would have no choice in the matter.
Samuel walked up the two flights of stairs to his bedchamber. He was met at the door by his valet, Dunford, an impeccably dressed and manicured gentleman in his late thirties. He had a high forehead and his ears pointed at the tips.