Her Gallant Captain at Waterloo by Diane Gaston

Author:Diane Gaston
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2020-11-10T14:46:41+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

The long lines of carriages, coaches and cabriolets, disgorging expensively dressed ladies and gentlemen in front of the property on Rue de la Blanchisserie, almost made Rhys turn around and seek the oblivion of some nameless tavern. Unfortunate that Grant had planted the idea of cowardice in Rhys’s refusal to attend the ball. Now he’d feel a coward if he did not go in.

He nodded greetings to several people he did not know and took a place in line to enter, happening to be behind one of the four people he knew who would be attending.

David.

The young man seemed to be absorbing the whole scene. He turned finally and noticed Rhys. ‘Rhys! Here you are! Where are Helene and Captain Grantwell?’

‘They are coming separately,’ Rhys said.

David blew out a breath. ‘Whew! I am glad I am not caught in line with Helene. She has been plaguing me ever since she arrived in Brussels. She’d probably ring a peal over my head and not care who heard it.’

‘I am certain you would deserve it,’ Rhys said.

David made a face. ‘You always did take her side.’ His good humour quickly returned. ‘Anyway, with any luck I will avoid her. I intend to enjoy myself. William said he will introduce me to General Maitland and to the Prince of Orange, who will be here. And I hope to say hello to the Duke of Wellington, as well. Perhaps I might introduce you to the Duke. Would you like that?’

‘I would not wish to trouble him.’ Wellington would surely be annoyed, Rhys was certain.

They reached a hall where footmen gathered ladies’ cloaks and gentlemen’s hats and inched their way to the ballroom.

The butler stood at the entrance to the ballroom, taking names and loudly announcing them to the receiving line and the room as a whole.

First David.

The man just leaned forward a little to hear the name, then bellowed, ‘The Earl of Yarford.’

David lifted his head high as if everyone in the room would be watching him. No one seemed to notice.

Rhys was next. He gave his name.

‘Captain Landon of the East Essex Regiment,’ the butler called out.

He walked to the receiving line where the duchess and her three daughters greeted the guests. They, of course, knew David since he’d been a dinner guest and probably had spent as much time as he could in the family’s presence.

David, to his credit, introduced Rhys. ‘Duchess,’ David said. ‘May I present my friend, Captain Landon. Landon is from our village and I have known him my whole life.’

Rhys bowed. ‘Your Grace.’

The Duchess extended her hand to be shook. ‘A pleasure, I am sure, sir.’

The daughters, two of whom looked younger than David, greeted him with a little more warmth. The oldest daughter whisked David through quickly to make room for the long line of guests behind them.

Rhys followed.

David stood surveying the sumptuously decorated ball room. The room was not part of the main house, but somewhat separate, connected by an anteroom. Rhys could not guess

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