“To have known you and been your wife has been more to me than a million pounds and everything else in the world,” she said quickly. “And to be your wife for the rest of my life is all I could possibly wish for-a fortune beyond price, Charlie. Hush now or you will see me cry again. And you hate to see me cry, and I have promised myself not to. Tell me something. Tell me something funny that has happened in the last week. You are always so full of stories.”

“Hastings blew a hole in Walker’s cap when he was cleaning his gun a few mornings ago,” he said. “Did I tell you about it? Fortunately, Walker’s head was not inside the cap at the time. But I think Hastings might have wished it had been after Walker had finished with him. And then Eden started in on him-a few choice words from him can reduce even the most hardened soldier to jelly. Poor Hastings was almost in tears.”

“But how fortunate that no one was hurt,” Ellen said. “The poor man would never have lived with himself afterward, would he?”

“Let’s go back to the lake,” he said, “and find out what is amusing those four so much.”

ALTHOUGH THE RUMORS and false alarms and panics became more and more numerous as June went on, and although the army and the artillery continued to pour into Belgium, and although even the most hardened cynics admitted that there must be some truth to at least some of the rumors, surprisingly few civilians left Brussels for the safer shores of England. It was as if they refused to believe that danger could ever seriously threaten them, the British, who had always been protected by their own shores. Or as if the Duke of Wellington had acquired in their eyes the stature of an invincible god.

Although the Earl of Amberley did not leave for Antwerp with his family, his servants, and Miss Jennifer Simpson until Monday, June 12, there were no delays or impediments to their journey, as there surely would have been had they waited just a few days longer.

Madeline, who had remained adamant in her decision to stay in Brussels as long as her twin was there, had arranged to move in with her friend, Lady Andrea Potts, who was quite as intrepid as she was herself and would tell those French a thing or two, she declared in her loud, rather masculine voice, if they dared set foot in Brussels and tried to do any looting in Colonel Lord Potts’s home. Lord Eden himself was to move into an officers’ billet with Captain Norton.

Christopher Raine, Viscount Cleeves, seemed blissfully unaware of the preparations for departure going on around him the day before they left, or of the heightened emotional tensions in his father’s drawing room as Lord Eden prepared to remove himself to his new billet. The boy was crawling about among chair legs and table legs, quietly intent on a private game. He was clucking his tongue to represent the sound of horses’ hooves.

“Well, old pal,” Lord Eden said, “are you going to shake hands with your uncle?”

“Old pal,” the child said, coming to his feet, his game and his horses abandoned for the moment. He put his hand in his uncle’s large one. “Big ship.”

Lord Eden stooped down on his haunches. “You are going in a big ship,” he said. “Tomorrow, you lucky lad. Do you have a hug and kiss for Uncle Dom?”

The child put two chubby arms around his neck and squeezed tightly, puckered his mouth, and kissed Lord Eden wetly on the lips. “Old pal,” he said, and spread his arms to begin a new game. He was perhaps a ship in full sail.

Lady Caroline Raine was lying in her father’s arms, staring unblinkingly into his face, although occasionally her eyelids drooped. Having been fed a half-hour before, she was patiently awaiting sleep.

“A smile for Uncle Dom?” Lord Eden asked, taking her tiny fingers on one of his. But though she clutched it and shifted her eyes to his face, she remained solemn. “No? Well, no matter. The young bucks are going to be lined up at Papa’s door sixteen years or so from now just for a glance from those eyes, little beauty.” He bent and kissed her forehead.

A moment after he had turned away to speak to the countess, the baby looked back to her father and favored him with one of her rare, brief, and total smiles.

“Wicked little princess,” he murmured.

Lord Eden had both of his sister-in-law’s hands in his. “Thank you for coming, Alexandra,” he said. “I cannot tell you what it has meant to have my family close to me. Have a safe journey home and give my love to Mama and Aunt Viola and Uncle William. And to Anna, of course. She is having a successful Season, I would wager. I will see you all again almost before we know it.”

“Yes.” She smiled. “Your mother will be so very happy to see you again, Dominic. But she just could not come, you know. She would rather worry in private. Take care of yourself.”

They were in each other’s arms suddenly, their eyes tightly closed.

“Dominic,” she said, “we love you so very, very much.”

“I’ll remind you of that when I come home,” he said, “and demand all sorts of favors as proof.” He lifted his head and grinned down at her. “And why did you choose Edmund rather than me if you love me so very, very much? I offered for you too, if you remember.”

“Oh,” she said, flushing, “because I love him so very, very, very much, I suppose.” She turned to take the almost-sleeping baby from her husband.

Lord Amberley got straight to his feet and took his brother unashamedly into his arms. They hugged each other wordlessly for some time. There was so much and so little to say.

“I am proud of you, Dominic. You know that,” Lord Amberley said.

“You will tell Mama…? You will tell her what needs to be said?” Lord Eden said.

“Of course,” his brother said. “She is proud of you too, you know, and always will be, no matter what.”

“Yes.” Lord Eden released himself from his brother’s embrace and grinned. “It is as well I take my leave now. You will have enough to do tomorrow just taking yourselves off with all your baggage and the children. And Miss Simpson. Thank you for taking her with you, Edmund.”

His brother shrugged. “She is a pleasant young lady,” he said. “And anything for you, Dominic, as you know. She is important to you?”

Lord Eden looked guarded. “She is Charlie Simpson’s daughter,” he said.

Lord Amberley chuckled. “There is no pinning you down, is there, Dominic?” he said. “But don’t worry. Alex and I will take good care of her and deliver her safe and sound to her aunt. On your way, then. Nothing can be gained from a prolonged parting, can it?”

Lord Eden turned to his twin, who had sat in stony silence throughout the previous scene. “See me to the door, Mad?” he said.

She rose and preceded him from the room.

“You will not reconsider?” he asked when the door was closed behind him. “No, of course you won’t. You have a splendid courage, Mad, and I honor you for it. I will come to see you every day, shall I?”

“If you don’t,” she said, “I shall come and find you out.”

“Don’t do that!” he said. “You will be all right with Lady Andrea? She has always reminded me of a horse, I must say.”

“I have always been fond of horses,” she said. “Dom, you will come to me before you have to go?”

He did not misunderstand the meaning of her vague words. “If there is any chance,” he said, “I will come to you, Mad. But don’t hate me for the rest of your life if I don’t. There may not be time.”

“I love you,” she said, putting her arms up around his neck despite the presence of a footman who was waiting to open the door into the street for Lord Eden. “If you don’t have time to come, that is all I want you to know and take with you. I love you.”

“I know that, you goose,” he said, hugging her briefly but hard. “I am just a little fond of you too, if you would believe it.” He grinned at her and was gone.

Madeline resisted the urge to throw something at his retreating back only because there was nothing within her reach to throw. She sighed and turned back to the drawing room.

LORD EDEN CALLED at Captain Simpson’s rooms on the Rue de la Montagne that same evening, though he was not sure that they were to be at home. He might have been sure before the arrival of Miss Simpson, since Charlie and his wife far preferred to sit at home together in the evenings than to seek out some entertainment. But things had changed, of course, with the arrival of that young lady.

He wanted to take his leave of her. And he wanted it done that day rather than wait until early the following morning before she left with Edmund and Alexandra. He wanted it all over with. He wanted them gone. And how could he admit as much even to himself without sounding as if he were lacking in natural affections?

Lord Eden had always found leave-takings painful. He would have liked to walk out of Edmund’s house that afternoon without saying a word to anyone. He would like to avoid this farewell to Miss Simpson. Saying good-bye was difficult at any time. Saying it when one knew that it might well be forever was grueling beyond words.

He wanted to be free of all ties of affection. He wanted to be able to concentrate his mind and his emotions on what was coming. He wished Madeline had decided to go home too. He did not want her there in Brussels, making a constant claim on his emotional energy. And how ungrateful that sounded when she was risking her very life just so that she might stay close to him. She would never understand if he tried to explain to her. She would think that he did not care for her. And she would start hurling things at his head and yelling unladylike imprecations, and otherwise showing him that she was deeply hurt.

It was at times like this that he was glad that he was not married or even deeply attached to one woman. For he had found from past experience that before a major battle he must blank from his mind all the people who were most dear to him. He must live as if they did not exist. The men under him must become his family, the only persons for whose safety and welfare he had any concern. His commanding officers must become the only persons who had any claim on his loyalty and obedience and trust.

He did not envy Charlie at such times. Mrs. Simpson was always with him. How would it be possible to take one’s leave of one’s wife and go immediately into battle? How would it be possible to concentrate on the task at hand when one knew her to be very close and like to get hurt if the tide of battle went against one’s own army? He shuddered.

He had watched them once, when they had come out of Charlie’s tent with perhaps one minute in which to say their farewells. They had clung wordlessly together, the faces of both pale and totally without expression, so that he had turned away from the sight, more pained than embarrassed that he had been the unwitting witness to such an embrace between husband and wife. And it had taken Charlie a good ten minutes to come out of his stupor and become his usual cheerful, determined, even reckless self as he rushed into battle.

The three of them were at home when Lord Eden arrived at his friend’s house. But he did not stay long. Conversation was labored. All four of them were fully aware that there was so little time left in which to talk. And how could one talk meaningfully when constrained to do so? He took tea with them and rose to leave. He held out a hand to Jennifer and smiled at her.

“I will wish you bon voyage, Miss Simpson,” he said, “and hope that you will not be seasick on the return journey.”

Charlie drew his wife into an adjoining room, he noticed, leaving the door open between.

“I am sure I shall not,” she said, “now that I am a seasoned traveler.” She placed her hand in his.

“I am glad you came,” he said. “I have been happy to make your acquaintance.”

“And I yours,” she said. “I hope this horrid war comes to nothing after all.”

He smiled. “There are many soldiers wishing differently,” he said. “There are many wanting just one more chance to score a big victory against Bonaparte.”

“And you?” she said. “Are you eager for battle?”

How could he explain to her that it was a necessity of his nature to fight for his country and all it stood for, with his life if need be? That there was almost an exhilaration now, a need to assert what he believed in?

“Not for the killing,” he said. “But I want to be part of this fight against tyranny.”

“Well, then,” she said. “Good-bye, my lord. I will pray that you will be kept safe.”

“Will you?” he said. “And may I call on you when I return to England?”