Godspeed

JUNE 10TH 1815

H is chin quivering, Rowan's father embraced each of his three sons in turn. ", my boy," he said hoarsely.

"We'll be back safe and sound before you know it, Papa," Rowan assured him, not sure what to make of the stern set of his father's jaw and the sadness in his eyes. He looked worn out. "You've seen us off to war before," he tried, receiving only a nod in reply.

Kenneth stepped forward and offered his hand. "Best of British," he declared.

"I get the feeling we're going to need more than luck," Thorne replied dispiritedly.

Guilt clogged Rowan's throat. His youngest brother had joined the army at Rowan's insistence. It was no wonder Ash and Thorne always did his bidding and echoed everything he said. He'd never allowed them to do otherwise. In his determination to set a good example, he'd become a tyrannical bully.

But the dye was cast. The Halstead brothers were committed to the campaign, albeit as officers seconded to a Cornish regiment. Rowan vowed to make sure his brothers returned home without a scratch.

He'd heard rumors of a Highland Regiment joining the same brigade. That augured well. No one fought as ferociously as Highlanders. That thought caused a twinge of alarm.

Willow was next to bid them farewell. His sister flung her arms around Thorne, as if she sensed his fear. "Give Bonaparte what for," she urged. "But all of you must come back safely."

A knot of dread tightened in Rowan's belly. Niven had already left for the docks. In honor of the occasion, he'd worn his highland garb and promised to pipe them aboard ship. It was a sign of respect and made what Rowan had to do all the more difficult. Willow might hate him for life, but it was likely she would never see Niven King alive again.

A few months ago, if anyone had predicted Daisy would rise before dawn simply so she could travel all the way across London to bid farewell to a sweetheart, she'd have told them they were delusional.

Yet, here she was, waiting for Rowan to finish saying his goodbyes to his family.

Over the past few weeks she'd noticed a marked improvement in the Duke of Withenshawe's health. Today, he looked frail and weak.

Rowan's brothers were as pale as death. She didn't envy them. She didn't know them well, but they'd never struck her as military men.

Predictably, Willow was in tears. From the outset, the girl had remained aloof but Daisy hoped they would become friends once she and Rowan married. Her fiancé had mentioned something about Niven asking to woo Willow—as if that was ever going to happen! She and Niven had courted for while. He was a gentle soul, honorable to a fault, but he was her cousin and not really suitable husband material for the daughter of a duke.

Her heart was in knots. She'd never cared enough about a man to worry about his safety. Rowan was going off to fight a vicious and determined enemy. They'd only recently found each other and she couldn't bear the thought she might lose him.

She nodded to Ash and Thorne when they saluted her as they left the house.

Her legs felt like jelly by the time Rowan finally took her into his embrace. "I wish I could stay here with you," he said softly.

The finality of the moment suddenly constricted her throat. She couldn't speak, couldn't tell him she would die if he didn't return.

Perhaps it was just as well. A man who was off to war didn't need to hear weeping and wailing from his woman. It was her role to boost his confidence. "Promise me we'll marry as soon as you return," she managed from her dry throat. "You look splendid in your uniform."

"Let's hope I do naught to dishonor it," he said before he kissed her. She took heart from the unchaste kiss.

Then he was gone, leaving her perplexed. He hadn't promised and what could he possibly mean about dishonor?

She and Kenneth accompanied the duke and his daughter out into the courtyard. They watched until the horses bearing the Halsteads disappeared from sight.

Feeling numb, Daisy turned to Willow, surprised the girl had already begun the walk back to the house. What was the hurry? "We can only pray they return safely," she said in an effort to establish friendlier relations.

"Er…yes," Willow replied before walking away.

Daisy was left in no doubt that Willow Halstead had something on her mind.

Willow had to be careful not to alert her lady's maid. She packed only two day dresses and a few unmentionables then hid the valise under the bed. She was shaking so badly, it became necessary to stop for a while and take deep breaths.

Fear for her brothers held her in thrall. Rowan was the only one of the three with a military mindset and even he was reluctant to leave.

She was nervous about the plan to elope with Niven. At first intending to leave as soon as Niven returned from the docks, they'd delayed their departure until dawn the following day so they could travel further in daylight.

She had hoped the Duke of Ramsay and his sister would leave, but they lingered as the afternoon wore on. She was grateful they were keeping her father company, though she should be doing that.

Filling her lungs in an effort to calm her nervousness, she emerged from her bedchamber and joined the others in the drawing room.

They drank copious amounts of tea. Daisy hardly said a word. The men talked about everything under the sun except the coming war. Willow got the feeling everyone present wanted to scream their indignation at the cruel audacity of Napoleon Bonaparte.

She herself became fixated on the loud ticking of the mahogany clock on the mantelpiece—or was that the beating of her heart?