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you?’ Elizabeth frowned in puzzlement. ‘When did he tell you? You were not here this morning when the dispatch was delivered, and he had left by the time you returned.’
    ‘He told me, some weeks before his marriage to you,’ George said quietly. ‘It was a decision he had already made. He knew you were his future, and India was his past. He knew the two could never be combined.’
    Elizabeth sat back, as if a ton weight had been lifted off her lap, the relief making her smile happily and look lovely again. ‘Oh, George, my instincts were right, I just knew I should speak to you first, I just knew you would be honest with me.’
    George smiled at her, but there was sadness in his eyes and in his heart. He also would probably never go back to India, but his young mother was buried there, aged only twenty-two when she had died, and because of that India would forever be his motherland.

Chapter Three
    ‘Was it you who put my name forward?’
    ‘No, it was nothing to do with me. I don’t enjoy such influence with the High Command.’ General Balfour sulkily thrust out his bottom lip. ‘I believe the culprit was Arthur Wellesley … or as he is now called, the Duke of Wellington.’
    ‘Wellesley?’ said Lachlan, surprised. ‘Wellesley recommended me for this?’
    ‘You served with him in India, didn’t you, same as me. You know that his brother has now been appointed as the Viceroy over there? Oh yes.’ Balfour sulked for a second longer. ‘And I believe your name was also put forward by General John Moore. You served with him in America I believe?’
    Lachlan nodded. ‘We were lieutenants together in Canada and New York.’
    ‘He’s just been knighted, Moore, did you know that? Anyway, between the two of them, the Duke of Wellington and General Sir John Moore, they have persuaded the Commander-in-Chief that you are the best man for the job.’
    ‘I wish one of them had had the courtesy to consult with me first,’ Lachlan said through gritted teeth. He couldn’t believe it. He just couldn’t believe it. ‘I mean …’ he said with a puzzled frown, ‘why would either of them think I would even accept a posting such as this?’
    General Balfour looked sympathetically at the fair tall man standing by the fireplace in absolute shock, and who wouldn’t be in a state of shock in his position? This was a posting for an old sea dog, like all the other old sea dogs – not for a man still in his prime – and definitely not for a professional soldier like Lachlan Macquarie.
    Balfour had known Lachlan since he was a young lieutenant just arrived in India, and he a colonel, his commanding officer. Even back then there was something about the young man that Balfour had instantly liked, and through the years and many campaigns their personal friendship had grown into something akin to uncle and nephew. Macquarie had a natural intelligence lacking in so many of the other young officers, young popinjays who had used their family’s wealth and influence to buy their gold-braided uniforms and positions, unlike Macquarie who had arrived in India without a penny and had earned every one of his promotions.
    And then there was that terrible situation with Jane … that had crushed him, almost destroyed him, but in time the steel had returned to his resolve and he was back in the game, leading his men across the Egyptian desert to the Nile to join the rest of the British troops in a battle with the French at Alexandria.
    Lachlan said irritably. ‘The Duke of York – ’
    ‘Is our Commander-in-Chief,’ General Balfour reminded him tersely. ‘And although he is not a soldier – not in any real sense of the word – the Duke of Wellington most definitely is a true soldier, as is General John Moore. And if both of these fine men have recommended you to the King, then – ’
    ‘The King!’ Lachlan’s shock was now turning into fury. ‘But why would they do that? Without consulting with me first? And why me anyway?