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Nicholas paused. Unlike Colonel Litchfield, he had no premonition of disaster but it was necessary to prepare for the worst. “If I don’t make it back, Daniel, you are free to choose your own way—stay at The Willows or start a new life on your own.” He handed his servant a bag of coins. “This is yours, Daniel. Julia has plenty for the journey and to see the household through to better days.”
    The stricken look on Daniel Runyon’s round Irish face prompted Nicholas to deliberate misunderstanding. “I can’t say as I blame you, Daniel. Julia Litchfield is not the easiest burden a man ever had. Willful and stubborn are the words which come to mind.”
    “Now, Major, you know that’s not…“
    “Never mind, Runyon,” the major snapped and strode to the door, successfully avoiding any further displays of emotion.
    As the clatter of the major’s boots echoed down the two flights of stairs, Daniel Runyon slumped down into a chair, staring sightlessly at the bag of coins the major had given him. Until caught full in the chest by a lance in India, he had been one of young Nicholas Tarleton’s sergeants. When no longer able to fight, he stayed on as Captain Tarleton’s personal servant. Round-faced, with brown wavy hair and a cheeky grin, he was nearer to forty than thirty and devoted enough to his major to guard even the things the major hadn’t realized were his to guard. Julia Litchfield, for instance. Take her to The Willows and leave her. As if he’d ever do such a daft thing!
    Idly, Daniel Runyon tossed the bag of coins in his strong hands. He’d have a care with the money. If the major didn’t come back…odds were they’d need it.
    Outside the casa , Nicholas found his stallion saddled and ready to ride, whiffling eagerly as he sensed the approach of battle. When he was mounted, the major patted the big bay’s neck and tried not to think of the fate of this faithful friend. Like the four thousand barrels of powder, no British horses would ever be used by Napoleon’s troops.
    As ill luck would have it, the first officer Nicholas encountered when he found the regiment was Captain Miles Bannister, who hailed him with a bright, “Good morning, Major!” And winked.
    * * * * *
     
    Julia came awake slowly, aware only that her world had become a better place. She was warm and secure. With only a ghost of darkness on the horizon. She arched her back and stretched…and was assaulted by muscles she had not known existed. Her eyes flew open.
    The room looked perfectly normal. Except for the neat pile of her clothing arrayed over the top of the small table beside the bed. A slow blush of crimson flared in her cheeks and spread all the way down to her toes. Surely the entire evening had been a fantasy. The disordered imaginings of an overtaxed brain. But if it had, why was her clothing so carefully arranged where she knew she had not left it. Or it had left her. And why was her treacherous body telling tales she was afraid to hear?
    A tiny smile played over the generous curves of her lips. It was true. All of it. He did not love her, of course, that was too much to ask. But what had passed between them was more than she had ever dared hope. Someday, perhaps…
    Oh, dear God! The silence. How could she not have noticed? Dawn had come and gone and there was no bombardment.
    Julia snatched at the watch fastened inside a pocket of her gown. Gone nine o’clock and as quiet as the depth of night. With some difficulty she struggled into her chemise and her layers of coin-filled petticoats, the money belts from Nicholas and her father and the old brown gown, also sewn with its share of coins. Over them all she donned her battered cloak and a modest-brimmed brown bonnet. With some irony, she reflected that she would have to take great care not to fall overboard on the trip out to the transports. She would sink like a stone.
    When she descended the stairs, Daniel Runyon was waiting for her. Although his, “Good