True Soldier Gentlemen (Napoleonic War 1) by Adrian Goldsworthy Page A

low and avoiding looking directly at her. Hanley was intrigued and attracted, although he had never in the past found innocence especially fascinating. Pringle wondered how she would look stripped, realised he might be inspecting her too closely, and turned with a light smile to the mother instead. Redman was simply staring, although part of him was scornful that the captain’s wife and daughter were unaccompanied by even a single maid. His mother had always maintained that a true lady never had less than one attendant, an obligation his father had struggled to provide for her and Redman’s two sisters.
    ‘Well, this is most pleasant,’ said Mrs MacAndrews. She was enjoying their confusion, and had a mother’s complacent satisfaction at the obvious power of her daughter’s charms.
    ‘I am so sorry,’ stammered Pringle. ‘Let us take you and your things to Captain MacAndrews’ lodgings.’
    ‘That would be nice.’
    The trunks were heavy – exceedingly heavy. Pringle and Williams took one, each grasping one of the brass handles, and Hanley and Redman managed the other. They then draped the valises over their shoulders. There were also some hatboxes, which they piled on to the trunks as best they could. It seemed to work for the first few yards, before arm muscles began to scream in protest. There was strain in Pringle’s voice when he spoke.
    ‘It is not far, Mrs MacAndrews. The captain has taken one of the nicest cottages in the village.’
    Esther smiled. ‘Are you managing, Mr Pringle? I fear our few things have grown into a great burden.’
    ‘Not at all. It is a mere nothing. An honour to be of service.’ Behind him Redman lost his grip on the trunk, which swung hard against Hanley’s shins. There was muffled cursing.
    ‘Perhaps we should summon additional help?’ suggested Mrs MacAndrews.
    ‘Yes, Mama, it is too much for these poor young gentlemen,’ said Jane, speaking for the first time since the introductions. She may just possibly have been older than Redman, but confidently assumed an air of superiority. Still, for the first time she looked straight at them.
    ‘I do assure both you ladies that we can manage. Anyway, I suspect that the gallant officers of our regiment will rush to aid us as soon as they see the beauty of the captain’s family.’ The other three managed a chorus of agreement, broken only when Redman once again let the trunk slip.
    Mrs MacAndrews’ accent became thicker. ‘Why, Mr Pringle, I do declare you are far too generous to two weary and weather-stained travellers.’
    ‘Not a bit of it, ma’am,’ said Williams. For a moment they waited for more, but he seemed frozen by his own boldness. He was also worried that his voice had sounded gruff, even vulgar.
    ‘Well, if you are sure. You are all such fine, big men. Are they not, Jane?’
    ‘Yes, Mama,’ replied Jane, and once more resumed her downward gaze.
    In the event the first officer of the 106th they encountered was Lieutenant Wickham, promenading with his wife. He raised an elegantly gloved hand to his cocked hat, then plucked it off his head to welcome the ladies more fittingly. Presentations were made, and the grenadiers took the opportunity to lower the trunks to the ground.
    Wickham was widely acknowledged as the handsomest man in the battalion. He was tall – tall enough to be a grenadier, in fact – with an elegant figure and natural grace. Both were alwaysshown off by a finely tailored uniform. His smile was open and welcoming.
    His wife was of medium height, and pretty enough in a round-faced way, with thick brown curls beneath her pink ribboned bonnet. Her expression was completely untroubled by any hint of intelligence, but her smile was broad and even more full of welcome.
    She was delighted to see them – had heard so much about them – for they were expected for more than a week now – she had been dying to meet both Mrs and Miss MacAndrews – was not their husband and father respectively the