An Infamous Army Read online

  ‘Some of our best regiments,’ said the Duke, as they went past him.

  There was good Sir James Kempt’s brigade, four proud regiments: the Slashers, the 32nd, the Cameron Highlanders, and the 1st battalion of the 95th Riflemen, in their dark green uniforms and their jaunty caps.

  There was fiery Sir Denis Pack, with his choleric eye, and his heavily arched brows, at the head of the Highland brigade. The Belgians began to cheer, for the kilt never lost its fascination for them, and in this 9th brigade was only one English regiment. The Royal Scots went by with pipes playing, followed by Macara, with his 42nd Royal Highlanders, and by handsome John Cameron of Fassiefern, with the 92nd: the Gay Gordons. The cheering broke out again and again; small boys, clinging to their fathers’ hands, shouted: ‘Jupes! Jupes! Jupes!’ in an ecstasy of delight; hats were waved, handkerchiefs fluttered; and when the last of the kilts and the tall hats with their nodding plumes had gone by, it was felt that the best of the review was over. Colonel von Vincke’s Hanoverians excited little enthusiasm, but the Duke, as he watched them march past, said in his terse fashion: ‘Those are good troops, too—or they will be, when I get good officers into them.’

  The British ambassador’s ball had been fixed to take place in the evening, and the Duke was entertaining a party at dinner before attending it. The Prince of Orange rode in from his Headquarters at Braine-le-Comte in high spirits, and full of news from the frontier; several divisional commanders were present, and the usual corps of foreign diplomats attached to the Anglo-Allied Army. The conversation related almost entirely to the approaching war, and was conducted, out of deference to the foreigners, in firm British-French by everyone but Sir Colin Campbell, who, having, to the Duke’s unconcealed amusement, made three gaffes, relapsed into defiant English, and relied on Colonel Audley to translate such of his remarks as he wished to be made public.

  The evening was considerably advanced when the dinner party broke up, and the Duke and his guests were almost the last to arrive at Sir Charles Stuart’s house. A cotillion was being danced; Colonel Audley saw Barbara, partnered by the Comte de Lavisse; and her two brothers: Harry with one of the Lennox girls, and George with Miss Elizabeth Conynghame. Miss Devenish was not dancing, but stood a little way away, beside Lady Worth. The Colonel soon went to them, claimed both their hands for dances, and stood with them for some moments, watching the progress of the cotillion. Catching sight of him Barbara kissed her fan to him. He responded with a smile, and a wave of the hand, and without any appearance of constraint. Judith could not but wonder at it, and was reflecting upon the unfairness of its having been Peregrine who had borne all the blame, when the Duke’s voice, speaking directly behind her, made her turn her head involuntarily.

  ‘Oh yes!’ he was saying, in his decided way. ‘The French Army is without doubt a wonderful machine. Now, I make my campaigns with ropes. If anything goes wrong, I tie a knot, and go on.’

  ‘What is the most difficult thing in war, Duke?’ someone asked him idly.

  ‘To know when to retreat, and to dare to do it!’ he replied, without hesitation. He saw Judith looking at him, and stepped up to her. ‘How d’ye do? I’m very glad to see you. But you are not dancing! That won’t do!’

  ‘No, for I arrived when the cotillion was already formed. May I present to your Grace one who has long desired that honour?—Miss Devenish!’

  Blushing, and torn between delight and confusion, Lucy made her curtsy. The Duke shook hands with her, saying with a laugh: ‘It’s a fine thing to be a great man, is it not? Very happy to make Miss Devenish’s acquaintance. But what is all this standing-about? Don’t tell me that there is no young fellow wishing to lead you out, for I shan’t believe you!’

  ‘No indeed, there are a great many!’ replied Judith, smiling. ‘But the thing is that Miss Devenish, like me, arrived too late to take part in this set. You will not see her standing about again tonight, I assure you.’

  ‘That’s right! Always dance while you may.’

  ‘How long will that be, Duke?’ enquired Judith.

  ‘Oh, now you are asking me more than I can tell you! For as long as you please, I daresay.’

  He nodded, and passed on. The cotillion came to an end soon after, and as Barbara walked off the floor Colonel Audley went forward to meet her.

  She held out her hand to him. ‘Wretch! Do you know how confoundedly late you are?’

  ‘Yes. Have you kept my waltzes?’

  ‘Oh, I am in a charming humour! You may have as many as you please.’

  ‘All, then. How do you do, Lavisse? How do you go on in your neighbourhood?’

  The Count shrugged. ‘Oh, parbleu! We watch the frontier, and grow excited at the mere changing of an advance guard. And you? What news have you?’

  ‘Very little. We hear of the Russians approaching Frankfort, and of General Kruse being at Maestricht. Hallo, Harry! More leave?’

  Lord Harry Alastair had come up to them, and replied to this quizzing remark with a grin and a wink. Having decided upon first meeting him that Audley was a very good sort of a fellow, he had lost no time in making him feel one of the family. He had several times borrowed money from him, which, however, he generally remembered to pay back, soon treated him with affectionate respect, and had even asked his advice on the conduct of an alarming affair with a Belgian lady of easy virtue. The Colonel’s advice had been so sound that his lordship declared he owed his preservation to it, and opined darkly that Audley must have learned a thing or two worth knowing in Spain.

  Barbara coolly referred to this affair, enquiring: ‘How is the opulent Julie, Harry?’

  ‘Lord, didn’t I tell you? I got clear away. It was a near thing, I can tell you. All Charles’s doing. He’s a man of wide experience, Bab, I warn you!’

  ‘Charles, how shocking! Spanish beauties?’

  ‘Dozens of them!’ said the Colonel.

  ‘Depraved! What is this they are striking up? A waltz! I am yours, then.’

  He led her on to the floor. She gave a sigh as his arm encircled her waist. He heard it, and glanced down at her. ‘Why the sigh, Bab?’

  ‘I don’t know. I think it was voluptuous.’

  He laughed. ‘Abominable word!’

  ‘You dance so delightfully!’ she murmured. ‘Where have you been hiding these last days?’

  ‘At Headquarters, when I was not laming my horses on these shocking roads. By the by, had you to create a scandal in my family?’

  ‘It seemed as though I had to,’ she admitted. ‘Did it come to your ears?’

  ‘Every word of it. You stirred up a great deal of unhappiness, Bab.’

  ‘What, by permitting poor bored Perry to gain a little experience? Nonsense! I behaved charmingly to him. Oh, you are recalling that I said I would be a sister to him! Well, so I was, until his ridiculous wife chose to challenge me. I won that encounter, however, and will sheathe my sword now, if you like.’

  ‘I wish you had never drawn it, Bab. Lady Taverner wasn’t a worthy foe.’

  ‘Ah, that’s charming of you! Well, I will engage to let him out of my clutches. I don’t see him tonight: is he not coming?’

  ‘No. He is going back to England.’

  ‘Going back to England? He told me nothing of this!’

  ‘It has only quite lately been decided. Brussels does not agree with Lady Taverner. I am charged with a message from Peregrine: his apologies for not being able to take his leave of you in person.’

  She was staring at him. ‘It is your doing, in fact!’ He nodded. Her breast heaved. ‘Insufferable!’ The word burst from her. ‘My God, I could hit you!’

  ‘Why, certainly, if you like, but I don’t recommend you to do so in such a public place as this.’

  She wrenched herself out of his hold, and walked swiftly off the dancing floor. He followed her, and took her hand, and drawing it through his arm held it there firmly. ‘Calm yourself, Bab. If you want to quarrel with me you shall. I daresay Sir Charles would be plea