Interview With Wellington

W hen Ash arrived with confirmation of an audience with Wellington, Niven and McKay were being carried around on the shoulders of men from the 79 th . It appeared they couldn't thank the two pipers enough for keeping up morale. McKay was assured his bravery would live on in legend.

Niven appreciated the honor but had a feeling that celebrating McKay's heroics took the mens' minds off the ghastly reality they faced. The war wasn't over and wouldn't be until Napoleon was captured and the French monarchy restored.

Ironically for a man named King, Niven held monarchies in contempt, as did most Scots, but anything was preferable to Napoleon.

"We should go now," Ash urged. "I've been granted a few minutes only."

McKay signaled they be put down off the mens' shoulders. "I'll come with ye. 'Tis only right I explain how ye came to be with our regiment."

Niven wasn't surprised when Ash studied his feet and shifted his weight. Even Kenneth McKay didn't know the whole story. "Much appreciated," he replied.

If Wellington was surprised to see two Cameron Highlanders arrive with Ash, his face betrayed no sign of it—until he recognized Piper McKay. He lunged forward and offered his hand to the Scot. "It's a privilege to meet you," he declared, pumping McKay's hand. "This victory was a near run thing, but it was men like you whose courage carried the day. You'll enjoy well-earned fame and glory."

"If ye think so, Yer Grace," a hesitant McKay replied without his usual ebullience. "I didna do it for fame and glory."

"Of course not. I intended to come personally to commend you and your regiment, but I had to get the dispatch off to London. I've specifically mentioned the heroic contributions of the 79 th ."

Ash cleared his throat. The purpose for the audience was sliding out of his control.

"The men will be honored, Yer Grace," McKay replied. "But ye're likely wonderin' why I've come wi' this young officer from another regiment."

"Well, I admit I was a little taken aback. Perhaps you'll explain, Halstead."

Ash's gut twisted. How to explain the situation without confessing the crime of kidnapping?

"If I might be permitted to speak, Yer Grace," Niven interrupted before Ash could begin.

The axe was about to fall.

Wellington peered at Niven. "I know you," he said.

"Aye. We met at Rochevaux Abbey, Yer Grace. I'm Niven King."

"From the whisky distilling family in Scotland!"

"Aye," Niven replied, relieved the duke remembered him.

"Your brother fought with the guerrillas in Spain, but I don't recall your being a soldier, King."

"Ye recall correctly, Yer Grace."

He glanced at Ash, whose face lived up to his name. He probably feared Niven was about to tell the whole sordid story, but doing so would reflect badly on Withenshawe and his sons. Nor would Wellington take kindly to a commoner who'd intended to elope with a noblewoman. He had to paint everyone in a good light if his pursuit of Willow was to succeed. "Major Halstead and his brothers persuaded me to join the fight against Bonaparte. But, as ye say, I'm nay a soldier and the Camerons needed another piper, so…"

"Yes, of course, you were the second piper. Astonishingly brave of you. However, I cannot allow an unenlisted man to continue on to Paris, however well-intentioned."

"I was hoping ye'd say that, Yer Grace, because Major Rowan Halstead lies gravely wounded in Mont St. Jean. I'd like to request your help getting him home to England. For his father's sake. As ye ken, Rowan's his heir."

"Your brother's been wounded, Halstead?" Wellington asked.

"Got his leg blown off, Your Grace."

Wellington grimaced. "Grizzly business and so quickly done. In the late stages of the battle, I was riding close to the Earl of Uxbridge when the same thing happened to him. I'll issue you a pass to the coast, young man, though I doubt Halstead will be able to travel for a good while. How is he faring?"

"We haven't yet been granted permission to visit him," Ash replied.

"Nonsense. I suggest you go now."