Entertaining Wellington

P redictably, the Three Trees fawned over Wellington, asking all kinds of frivolous questions that had nothing to do with the current situation. Which London club did he favor? What did he think of the latest fashion in neckwear? Did he have a favorite horse? They seemed unperturbed by the fact he didn't remember them from the Battle of the Nivelle.

However, they scowled when Wellington learned Niven was a member of the Highland family that distilled Uachdaran whisky. They glared when the duke revealed it was his whisky of choice.

Willow worried about her father. His health had improved somewhat, but he really wasn't well enough to preside over the meeting, and his scowl deepened as the inanities poured forth from his sons.

She itched to ask any one of the many urgent questions plaguing her. However, a national hero might take offense at a mere woman showing an interest in military affairs. Perhaps he'd refused the invitation to eat luncheon in order to escape any female involvement in the discussion.

Paradoxically, she suddenly wished her Papa hadn't asked her to stay to preside over the provision of tea and biscuits, though she'd have been hurt if he'd left her out.

Arthur Wellesley was the embodiment of a hero—handsome, intelligent, a fine figure of a man. Yet, Willow wasn't attracted to him like she was to Niven King. Wellington's only flaw, if one could call it that, was that he seemed incapable of sitting still. His pacing back and forth made her dizzy. How was she supposed to serve him tea if he insisted on moving about?

"So," the great man announced, commanding everyone's attention. "The members of the Seventh Coalition have each agreed to furnish one hundred and fifty thousand men."

"Golly," Rowan exclaimed. "Seven coalitions already?"

"Hard to believe," Ash opined.

Hawthorne shook his head.

Willow was mortified. It hadn't occurred to her officer brothers that hundreds of thousands of infantrymen on both sides would be sacrificed to the campaign against Bonaparte.

Wellington raised a brow but carried on. "Russia will probably muster an even greater force. Austria and Prussia will have no problem gathering an army. Our difficulty in the United Kingdom is that the majority of our combat veterans were sent to Canada in 1812 and are still there. We need more men."

Niven clenched his jaw, hoping Wellington wasn't about to embark on a recruiting drive. An uncomfortable silence fell. A commoner had no hope of becoming an officer. If Niven enlisted, he'd be nothing more than cannon fodder.

Niven sympathized with the duke not wanting to send his heir to war again, but Ash and Hawthorne seemed to have no definite purpose in life, except to echo everything Rowan said. Of course, officers were expected to lead and the younger Halstead brothers didn't strike Niven as leadership material.

The tension in the room eased when Wellington explained further. "I'm confident the United Kingdom will meet her commitment. We'll make up our numbers with armies from the Netherlands, Hanover and Brunswick, as well as a handful of other small countries and principalities. All of Europe is anxious to see Napoleon gone for good."

He carried on an informative dissertation about the Congress declaring Napoleon an outlaw. Withenshawe and Kenneth nodded when he revealed that the major powers at the Congress had been on the point of declaring war on one another, so different were their agendas when it came to sharing power.

He was of the opinion Napoleon had likely been informed of these developments and chosen his moment, confident he could build an army with the well-trained, patriotic veterans returning from prisoner of war camps in Russia, Britain, Germany and Spain.

Withenshawe joined in. "He would also be aware of the oppression of the common French people by the restored royalist nobility. There is widespread resentment that France was stripped of her empire and reduced to her old boundaries."

Niven's keen mind found it all very interesting, though most of his attention was on Lady Willow Halstead, and hers on him. A silent message of mutual regard passed between them. Niven only hoped her brothers hadn't noticed their attraction to each other.

Rowan supposed he should be impressed with Arthur Wellesley. Give the handsome fellow his due. He'd proven himself on the battlefield and covered himself with glory. Rowan hoped for an opportunity to declare his willingness to fight Napoleon again, but no such opening presented itself.

This whole Napoleon business was getting tedious. Could a group of educated noblemen not talk about anything else? It was highly unlikely the French upstart would ever attempt to invade England, so why not let him loose on Europe?

Rowan hadn't looked forward to the Duke of Ramsay's visit, but had to admit the unexpected arrival of the duke's sister had turned a tedious duty into a delightful experience. Eventually, he'd need a wife. Lady Daisy Hawkins might be worth pursuing. She was the daughter of a duke, eminently suitable. However, she lived in London which could prove a hindrance.

It was unfortunate that the duke's family also included Niven King. Why the commoner had been invited was a mystery, although Rowan's father evidently held him in high regard.

Of course, a man had to wonder about his father's sanity with Willow included in the discussions. His silly sister seemed preoccupied with the Scot. If they thought for one minute…

"Might your ships be of service in the campaign, Papa?"

Jolted from his preoccupation, Rowan glared at his sister. Did she seriously think…?

"Capital idea," his father replied. "Niven can arrange for our fleet to be at the Coalition's disposal whenever possible."

Wellington agreed. "That's a generous offer. We'll need to transport thousands of men and materiel to Europe at a time when the bulk of the Royal Navy is dispersed all over the world."

Rowan sensed his opportunity when the great man turned his piercing gaze on him. "I understand your sons are not involved in the Withenshawe shipping empire but surely they would be willing to help Mr. King organize the endeavor?"

Serve as Niven King's lackey? Not in this lifetime. Although, lending a hand before sailing for Europe would make it appear Rowan was contributing more than his fair share to the war effort. And the Withenshawe docks were in London—closer to Ramsay House and Lady Daisy.

"Excellent," he replied. "I'll expect Ash and Hawthorne to assist me in the task."

"Er…" Ash mumbled.

"Come again?" Hawthorne said.

" Sìth ," Niven swore under his breath. Lady Willow's suggestion of using Withenshawe ships in the war effort was brilliant, but he was to be lumbered with her three idiot brothers while trying to accomplish it. "Ye can rely upon me to do my very best, Yer Grace," he told the man who already knew he could be trusted. "However, if Lord Rowan and his brothers come to London, ye and Lady Willow will be left alone here."

"Nonsense," Withenshawe replied. "I don't intend to stay in Berkshire. We'll need my daughter to be our hostess at the London townhouse. Are you willing to accompany us, my dear?"

Lady Willow's intriguing eyes met Niven's for only a brief moment, but the meaning of the promising glint was unmistakable as she declared, "I'd love to, Papa."