To Win the Lady Read Online Free Page A

sighed again. ‘If only I had not been out of the
country.
    ‘Aunt, I doubt
it would have made any difference, Papa did not take kindly to criticism.’
    Her aunt
laughed. ‘Of that I am persuaded. Now, let us talk about you...’
    Felicity was
only too happy to comply and the remainder of the journey passed pleasantly,
and the following afternoon, after an overnight stay in St Albans, they arrived
at Mrs Bertram’s modest villa in Holles Street.
     
    London was
celebrating the defeat of Napoleon and there were flags and bunting everywhere
and everyone laughing and joyous. Ballad-sellers were doing a roaring trade and
returning troops were clapped on the shoulders and told what valiant men they
were, though the soldiers themselves, deprived of their livelihood, if so
dangerous a calling could be so named, were not so happy. Glad enough to have
returned alive, though many were missing limbs, they had to find civilian jobs
or resort to thieving or begging and already many were on the streets with
their hats in their hands. Most of the officers who had returned had gone back
to their homes to be received into loving families; some might be low in the
stirrups, but they would find other occupations, or service in other theatres
of war. It was different for them.
    All the same,
Major the Honourable Richard Baverstock, son of Viscount Dullingham, had not
yet returned home to Cambridgeshire. Before he faced his father, he intended to
have a little fun; in fact he intended to have a lot of fun. And he was doing
it in the company of his friend, Captain John Melford. They had only just
arrived in England, being among the first to return on account of slight
wounds, but already they were amusing themselves sparring at the Fives Court in
Martin Street, mixing with the noisy crowds who frequented the Cockpit Royal
and laying bets on a couple of fighting cocks.
    They had been
to Astley’s Amphitheatre to watch a troop of wire-walkers and a dancing bear
and had danced the night away at Ranelagh Gardens where the aristocracy rubbed
shoulders with the proletariat and where they had enjoyed the company of a
couple of delightful bits of muslin. Both handsome and well set up, they had
soon learned how to deport themselves and dress in the latest mode and were, as
a consequence, greatly in demand among mamas organising social occasions for
their daughters. They had been taking full advantage of the fact, flirting with
the young ladies but never losing their hearts.
    Sometimes Richard
wondered if he still had a heart to lose. He had seen some gruesome sights in
the eight years he had been a soldier; he had seen good friends killed and
maimed, and priceless treasures looted. He had seen barbarity and compassion,
bravery and cowardice in equal measure and he had watched Maria bleed to death
in his arms and wept for her and his own inadequacy. Determined to put it all
from his mind, he was, a few days after Felicity’s arrival in the capital, out
on Hampstead Heath cheering on his jockey in a private race.
    It was a
foolish wager and he would not have made it if John had not bet so heavily on
that card game at Watier’s. His friend had been somewhat disguised at the time
and the more he’d lost, the more reckless he’d become. Richard, who had pulled
out long before, had tried unsuccessfully to ]ever him away, but he would have
none of it. ‘My luck will change,’ he’d kept saying. In the end he’d lost
everything of value on his person and the heap of paper vowels beside Lord
Barber’s elbow had borne witness to the fact that his luck had not changed and if
he continued he would have nothing left at his bank either. He’d been writing
yet another voucher when Lord Barbour had put a hand over it. ‘No more vowels.’
    ‘I have no more
money or valuables on me,’ the young man said. ‘You must allow me to continue.
These will be honoured.’ He turned to Richard, who stood behind his chair.
‘You’ll vouch for that, won’t you,