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obviously barely believe his luck in finding himself in the same house as such a beautiful woman.
    “Yet she is quite old not to be married,” continued Franz.
    “She has not had the opportunity to form an attachment these two years. We never stayed long anywhere.”
    “I do not think it would take long to fall in love with Sophia.”
    John kept his eyes fixed on the clock. How long would it take for Mary to calm Sophia or for Sophia to decide to go to bed? It was only eight minutes. In his father’s house the gentlemen could sit with the port for an hour, but he did not imagine the three of them would be here much longer.
    “Perhaps it is time to rejoin the ladies,” suggested Edmund.
    He took his time standing. John and Franz were already on their feet before he had even pushed back his chair. John did not dare meet Edmund’s eye as his host walked to the door and ushered them through it.
    John was last into the drawing-room, but he saw that Sophia’s smile when they entered was for him. All threat of tears had passed.
    He was more than a little surprised to discover that both women were drinking port. John turned down the offer of another glass.
    “You dislike port, Captain Warren?”
    Despite John’s requests to the contrary, Franz insisted on using his rank. It gave an unwanted formality to the evening that puzzled Sophia and annoyed Edmund.
    “Only its effects.”
    As he made himself comfortable in a chair from which he could easily see Sophia, he reflected on the last time he had dined under Edmund’s roof in London. That was the evening he had finally realised that Sophia loved Edmund. For some months he had been noticing her preference for the older man. That evening John had behaved badly and drunk too much. He could no longer remember much of the evening, although he still recalled the kindness of the couple who had taken him home in their carriage. Never a heavy drinker, it had been easy to keep to his resolution not to get drunk again.
    “Will you rejoin your regiment?”
    Mary’s question broke into the memories.
    “I should think so. Too many officers have gone back to England and retired. Wellington will need as many experienced officers as he can get.”
    They had discussed the probability that Wellington would be recalled from Vienna to command the allied armies and that those armies would be in the Low Countries. It did not surprise him to discover that Mary and Edmund had discussed this with his uncle when they had visited the earl at Meldon Hall at Christmas. Uncle George had mentioned the necessity of keeping British troops near French borders in more than one of his letters.
    “You say you don’t enjoy fighting, Captain Warren.”
    “Not in the least. I’m a diplomat and prefer words to a sword. But I have seen what Bonaparte has done in Spain and I don’t want him to do it in England.”
    “Not just in Spain,” said Franz and John was reminded that Franz’s own country had fallen to the French emperor.  He nodded his acknowledgement of that fact.
    “Then we will see you in Brussels,” continued Franz.
    Despite himself, John glanced at Sophia.
    “Yes, we will meet again in Brussels,” he said dully.
    “Have you brought anything with you for us to take there?” asked Sophia.
    “My charger.” He kept his eyes on Sophia, lest a glance at Edmund betray him. “I will need him if it comes to battle and I would have to leave him behind if I have to leave Paris suddenly. I wouldn’t want the French to have him.”
    This had been the cause of much argument between him and Edmund when he had arrived. Edmund was unhappy that he meant to leave it to the last minute to leave Paris. He had become even more unhappy when John had told him about the other ‘treasure’ that he wanted to be safely removed to Brussels.
    “How like an Englishman,” said Franz, “to think of rescuing his horse before his person.”
    “John’s right,” said Mary, calmly. “He will need his horse if