As Lord Cornwallis sat in his office the following day the plan he had formulated turned over and over in his head. He still did not know whether he was making the right decision. He knew that Grace was out of hand and that this should tame her once and for all, but he couldn't help feeling that he would be committing a great betrayal against his granddaughter. After all she was young. It was possible that time would change her temperament and that she would find her own way to being a lady. Still, on the other hand nothing that he had done far had seemed to make any sort of impression on her. She was so like her mother – a mind of her own, incapable of hiding her feelings - and he was terrified that, like her mother, she would end up in trouble and disgrace. It had broken his heart when he had found out that his daughter was unmarried and with child. He blamed himself for spoiling her. He had even introduced her to the man who would eventually take her purity – a Captain in the British army, married five years to a lady of such high standing and breeding that no one would believe her husband had acted like such a rogue. The blame had landed firmly at the feet of Cornwallis's daughter, whom people knew to be wilful, and it had only been through the combination of her death, and the high esteem in which the General was held by the king which had allowed him to retain the dignity of the rest of his family.

The General's eldest son Goderick Cornwallis had exasperated the situation further by challenging the Captain to a duel over his wronging of his sister; however, Goderick was killed in battle abroad before he was able to honour the duel and since then the matter had been closed. It had been a hard blow indeed for General Cornwallis to lose both a daughter and a son within a few short months, and since the death of his remaining daughter, Maria Cornwallis, by scarlet fever, he had resolved to keep his small family close by - which was the reason he had ordered his son in law, Henry Ederick, to have his daughters accompany them to the colonies. His surviving youngest child, Joseph Cornwallis, was in the employ of his army in the colonies – a Red Coat Second Lieutenant - however, as far possible, and secretly from Joseph, Cornwallis had ordered that he be kept out of live battle; he had no desire to lose his one remaining child, and since Joseph had not as yet married, and his grandchildren were all female, he was anxious to retain a male heir.

As he considered his tragic family history, Lord Cornwallis's resolve in the plan for his granddaughter grew. He could not and would not allow her life to follow the pattern of her mother. He picked up a piece of parchment on the table next to him and scribbled a note with his quill. When he had finished he folded it into an envelope and sealed it using a wooden stamp to mark the family coat of arms proudly into the molten red wax. He then rang the bell for one of the servants.

'Yes my lord?'

'Take this to General 'O Hara and ask him to have one of his men deliver it immediately to the recipient.'

'Yes my Lord.'

As the letter bobbed away on the silver tray where the butler had placed it, Lord Cornwallis was penetrated by feelings of foreboding. However, he had not become a General by having doubt in his decisions, so, shaking himself slightly, he rose to go back to the daily duties to which a General had to attend, the later meeting that the letter arranged pushed brusquely to the back of his mind.

A short chapter I know, but necessary …