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Chapter 12
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Their lovemaking that afternoon was intense and passionate. Events that began in the study soon moved to the master bedroom and some time later, both exhausted, they lay in bed together snuggling close. Harry lay in Ruth's arms, his head on her breast and Ruth thought he was perhaps more relaxed than she had ever seen him. Ruth could say much the same for herself. When Ruth had first become acquainted with her new husband he had been rather dour and serious in public. In private however, when he was relaxed, he was kind and gentle and had a warm and playful sense of humour that warmed her heart. Harry's protective nature, once explained, was more easily understood. Ruth was not unaware of the fact that she would have to find a way to work around her husband's concerns but she knew now his actions came not out of a desire to control her but out of concern for her wellbeing. In time, Ruth hoped that Harry would let go some of his cares but she had a suspicion that that would not occur until Lord Hunter had been dealt with. The very thought of the man made her skin crawl and so Ruth most decidedly resolved not to think on the man any further. Instead she turned her head and kissed the top of Harry's forehead where the line of his curled hair was starting to recede.
Harry's eyes blinked open. Ruth was staring at him in an odd way, with a contented sort of smile that he had never before laid eyes upon.
"What?"
"Nothing," Ruth smiled softly. Harry smoothed her hair back from her face and kissed her softly. Ruth returned the kiss and then broke away to straighten up her husband's apparel, smoothing down the collar of his nightshirt. "Only, I still have moments where I can't believe we're married."
"Ruth, can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"Do you regret it? Marrying me?"
Ruth's brows knitted together. "Regret it? Why should I regret it?"
"Because you had a life, an independent life, and I selfishly fell in love with you and everything you have worked for up to now will be forgotten. You will be known as Lady Pearce and no matter how well you speak Arabic or how intelligent your mind or how well you play chess, there will always be those who judge you only on me and I fear that I fall short, in your eyes."
"Harry..." Ruth patted his chest, "You know very well that you are no more nor less selfish than me."
Harry's eyes widened. He loved Ruth very much and knew when he had asked her and twice been refused and, moreover, that he was very much the one more in love than her. Yet he did believe she cared for him, no woman who looked at a man as Ruth looked upon him could be without feeling. At the same time she had not once put her feelings into words. It seemed an unfamiliar notion to her. Yet there was no mistaking her meaning here. "Are you..." Harry propped himself up on an elbow. "Are you saying...?"
Ruth lay her hand on his chest and leaned in and kissed him sweetly again. Harry simply stared in wonder, the intensity of his gaze bringing a blush to Ruth's face.
"Ruth?"
"A little patience, Harry," Ruth said quietly, "I'll get there."
Harry stared at her a little longer and then reluctantly nodded. "I suppose we should dress. There is a ball at the Assembly Rooms tonight. It would be remiss of us not to attend although I must confess I would much rather stay here."
Ruth slid out of bed, aware of Harry's watchful eyes on her. She needed to wash before dressing and although she was becoming accustomed to sharing her personal life and space with Harry, she would be grateful to have a few minutes to herself to ready herself. Their earlier discussion had settled matters between them somewhat but Harry was still hopeful for a level of emotional commitment to their union which would only come on Ruth's part with time and patience. She knew his behaviour only came out of his own feelings and was not malicious but after a lifetime of no one paying any particular interest, it was still a little peculiar at times to find herself at the centre of someone else's attention.
The housekeeper, thankfully, was a discreet and experienced member of the household staff who had long served Captain Quinn and, rumour had it, one or two of his mistresses. Ruth returned through the link door to find that the housekeeper had had a couple of the maids make ready a bath and Ruth luxuriated in the relaxing sensation of warm water surrounding her. More than that, it soothed the aches and niggles of discomfort in a body that was still adjusting to the intimacies of marriage.
Ruth emerged from her bath to find Jo waiting in her room to dress her. On the bed a beautiful evening gown in the finest ivory silk was laid out along with new under clothes, dancing slippers and a selection of pearls to ornament her hair.
"With the compliments of General Pearce, My Lady," The Jo curtseyed.
"Jo!" Ruth smiled. She was rather relieved to see a familiar face. "Is Calum here too?"
"Of course, My Lady. You must excuse us, it was our half day this morning. We had no idea you would be arriving today. Did you enjoy your honeymoon, Ma'am?"
Ruth blushed to think of it and tried to keep a poker face. Then she tried glaring at Jo for even asking but failed miserably.
Jo bit back a smirk and nodded. "I believe I shall have to take the liberty, Madam, of assuming that you did."
"May I ask, about the dress?" Ruth said in an obvious attempt to change the subject.
"Which one, my Lady?"
Ruth sighed heavily, "Oh, don't tell me, he sent orders ahead to have a selection of gowns made up by a local dressmaker?"
"The finest in Bath, Ma'am," The maid announced proudly. "As fine as any you'll find in London. General Pearce was quite insistent."
"Silly bugger."
"Ma'am?"
"Nothing," Ruth sighed, "Although I confess I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with so many gowns. Oh well, I suppose it cannot be helped."
"I believe," Jo began tentatively, "That the General hopes they will please you, Lady Pearce."
Ruth wasn't sure what to say to that. It was a relief indeed to know that she need not fret over the finances when her husband bestowed such things upon her, yet Ruth hated to think that the gifts would become a matter of servants gossip. Worse, she knew very well that the peculiar details of marriage often became gossip around the town and Ruth had no reason to suppose matters would be any different in Bath than they would be in London. Living modestly, as she had before, had never left any danger of unwanted attention. Things were markedly different now that she was married to a high ranking military officer of wealth and status.
Preparing for any ball took plenty of time. Making one's first entrance as a married woman to a ballroom as renowned as the Assembly Rooms of Bath took painstaking time and attention to detail. It was rather a surprise, then, for Ruth to find herself in the entrance hall with her gloves ready well before her husband who appeared to be the cause of the ruckus she soon heard coming from the Master bedroom. When the matter seemed to have no intention of dying down, Ruth glanced at the waiting footman who remained po-faced and stood at attention as Harry barked at every male servant within hearing up the stairs. Ruth decided enough was enough, handed the footman her purse and marched herself up the main staircase.
Harry looked rather surprised at Ruth's abrupt entrance. Even the servants looked shocked. It was not done for a wife to intrude upon her husband's privacy. A wife was there to be visited by her husband – or not – as he pleased and not the other way around.
Quickly, however, Ruth assessed the root of the problem. It became quite clear from her first glance about the room that the poor stand-in valet, a footman who had probably ended up in the position from an acute shortage of staff upon their arrival, had never dressed a General before and the peculiarities of her husband's uniform were quite confounding him, bringing Harry's ire to the fore as Harry's efforts to dress himself were constantly disrupted by the footman not knowing what to hand him next, or which adornment went where. Ruth bit back a smile at the poor servant doing his level best and Harry barking sourly to anyone who came within three feet.
Ruth immediately ordered her husband to stand still and to the valet's eternal shock he did as requested while Ruth fussed over his necktie, the buttons of his jacket and the belt for his sword and the medals on his chest.
"I'm going to fire him," Harry announced.
"You'll do no such thing," Ruth insisted. "Why on earth are you being dressed by a footman? Is Calum not here?"
"I sent him out on an errand."
"Of course you did," Ruth tutted.
"Well I trust him," Harry bit back.
"The errand couldn't have waited an hour?"
"It was important," Harry insisted.
"Well then," Ruth patted his chest, "You only have yourself to blame for your predicament."
Harry harumphed at this but put up with his wife's attentions. When the worst of the fuss was over and Ruth had won around the servants by her calming presence over her husband, Harry pecked his wife on the cheek and thanked her for stepping in. The fact that more often than not while they were together the master of the house sometimes became oddly quiet and compliant and got lost in staring at his wife, it went without mention. At least above stairs.
Besotted was the word the used in the servants hall, but the Lady Pearce had no need to know that.
"Ruth," Harry finally spoke quietly, "May I say how beautiful you look tonight?"
"Thank you. Do you like the gown? My husband bought it for me."
"Did he? He must love you very much," Harry stepped closer and reached for her hand.
Ruth smiled softly and ducked her eyes. She did not return the sentiment or look at her husband but stepped forwards to close the gap between them and squeezed his hand in her palm.
Harry sighed. He lifted Ruth's hand to his mouth and kissed it but no sooner did he look at Ruth again than his shoulders drooped, his body sighed and his air became wistful.
"Harry..." Ruth's brows drew together in concern.
"Come on, we had better get going. We're late enough as it is." He moved away, checking himself over one last time.
Ruth stepped in front of him, her eyes flickered up to his and then away. "You know I care for you very much, don't you?"
"I know," Harry, patted the small hand that lay on her arm, but he wouldn't meet her eye.
Ruth was rather worried at Harry's response but they were making their introduction into Bath society and they had somewhere to be.
The Assembly Rooms in Bath was the scene of most of the major social events of the city. Anyone who was anyone was there and one had not arrived in Bath society until one had presented oneself at one of it's regular society balls or concerts. Such was the status and wealth of many of Bath's residents that even the public assembly was considered a respectable place to be seen.
Ruth could see very well that their arrival on the Crescent had not gone unnoticed. There was no disguising the twitching curtains or those who stopped and pointed their walking sticks at the open shutters, hurried servants and smoke piping from the chimneys.
During the afternoon the carriage and all the brass on the horses harnesses had been polished to a high shine and once they were safely ensconced within, the sight of the fine new paint, the polished glass and the footmen in their livery created the right image of wealth and status as the carriage made it's way the short distance through the streets from the Crescent to the Assembly Room.
The General and Lady Pearce arrived at the Assembly Rooms fashionably late. The ball had already begun, the music of a small chamber orchestra was floating out onto the street through the doors and glass panels of the windows along with the noise from the hustle and bustle of a large throng of people inside.
General Pearce was dressed in his best uniform, Ruth in the fine ivory silk gown her husband had ordered to be made specially for the occasion. The cut of the dress was classical, modest and tasteful showing exquisite class and refinement in the fabric, the embroidery and the quality of the seams. It was complimented by trimmings of lace while the ribbons and decorative pearls in Ruth's hair finished off her deportment.
When they arrived at the venue, Harry rose and exited first and then offered his hand to his wife to assist Ruth in her descent from the carriage. Ruth noticed something on the seat of the carriage and picked it up before accepting her husband's assistance onto the street. He was still cold and stand-offish, in spite of having ostensibly made up earlier. Ruth considered that no doubt her husband, like everyone else, went through his moments of doubt but Ruth had had quite enough of his wallowing. He had chosen to marry her knowing more than any other man ever had about her situation and frankly, she considered him to be a better man than he was currently showing himself to be. On the threshhold of the doorway, Ruth halted her husband and turned him to face her.
"Stop it, Harry."
"Stop what?"
"You're wallowing," Ruth said and then opened her purse and took out something, "And you forgot something."
Out came a ragged, dirty scrap of white ribbon which was presented to him in his wife's open palm.
Harry stared at it.
When Harry didn't move, Ruth took the liberty of placing it in the right hand pocket of his coat. "Since you never go anywhere without it, I'm sure leaving it in the carriage was some sort of error."
Harry watched Ruth take the unexpected liberty and glanced up at her. "How remiss of me," He muttered.
"Harry, what is wrong with you tonight? If you'd rather I stayed at home perhaps you ought to say so and I can return in the carriage."
"Don't be absurd."
"Can I ask, husband. There will be ladies in here with whom you are...acquainted."
"Was acquainted with. I am not the man I once was, Ruth. You know that better than anyone. I am only sorry that..." Harry paused and thought over his next words carefully. He took in a deep breath, "The truth is, Ruth, that in your present position you will likely be required to endure talk of my past iniquities."
Ruth slid her hand through her husband's arm. "Harry, I have lived upon a ship of six hundred men. Whatever your own iniquities, and at present my knowledge of them is probably rather more extensive than you imagine, I assure you six months at sea puts paid to all of them. There is very little that can shock me and I hardly think I am in a position to hold events against you that transpired before we were acquainted. Let us enter and ignore our critics and dance the night away."
Harry groaned at the mention of dancing.
Ruth clasped her husband's arm a little more firmly, brooking no argument.
"Ruth," Harry spoke quietly, "If you had married me only for your own security, you would tell me, wouldn't you?"
"Of course I would tell you, Harry."
"I fear your opinion of me may change after some of the personages at the current ball meet your acquaintance."
"Do you, indeed?" Ruth smirked. Rather than feeling threatened by the prospect of meeting her husband's former lovers, Ruth found his shame at his past behaviour – or taste in partners, perhaps, – rather encouraging. It added to her assurances of him as a changed man. Ruth did not, however, feel the need to inform her husband of this particular conclusion at this moment in time.
Harry paused, waiting for anything further on the topic but nothing was forthcoming and so he was left to get on with it, hoping that his wife was still his wife by the end of the night and he would not, once more, have a spouse requesting a divorce. At last, however, it seemed they were ready to enter the throng and, ushered by the attendants, Sir Harry and Lady Pearce made their way inside and up the stairs to the main ballroom. There, their names were whispered into the ear of the Master of Ceremonies who looked at them and nodded sagely in acknowledgement. Before them, the latest dance was beginning to draw to a close and as the music fell silent one of the Master of Ceremonies' men stepped forwards to announce their presence to those present.
"Major General Sir Henry James Pearce and the Lady Ruth Elizabeth Pearce!"
A murmur went round the room. Everyone, to a man, stopped and stared at her.
The present ball was Ruth's first event as the wife of General Pearce as it was the first time in her life that Ruth had entered such an event and all eyes had been on her. No longer allowed to fade into the background with her usual charge in her slightly outdated, modest grey dress. Ruth was now thrust into the limelight and all eyes were upon her. Their wedding had been a quiet affair, those who had been in London or those with connections would no doubt have found out as one maid gossipped to another or the footman bantered with the rag and bone man and there would be those who subscribed to the Times of London and may have noticed the announcement in the newspaper but down here in Bath at the other side of the country their betrothal was, in large part, apparently somewhat of a surprise. Even had it not been, as Ruth's first formal appearance by her new husband's side, it was inevitable that they would garner attention and gossip. As they stepped into the room the attention being paid them only became more obvious as the crowd parted and every step of the way eyes fell on Ruth. Around her, voices whispered.
"I thought he was married already," One woman said.
A second lady fanned herself slowly. "Didn't you hear? Passed away, she did."
"The first Lady Pearce?"
"In childbirth."
"Well then it isn't any wonder him marrying again with such a young child!"
"Oh, but the child isn't his! I had it from Sir Jeremy's valet on the crescent that Sir Harry only returned from Spain two months ago. Captain Quinn's hallboy had it from Sir Harry's valet, apparently."
"Two months ago?"
"He's been on the Peninsula these last two years together, you see, so the child couldn't be his. They say he left it in London, with a servant."
"Well, that woman! I can't say I'm surprised, people did talk!"
"People talked of Sir Harry as well."
"Do you think this new wife knows?"
"I shouldn't imagine so. Poor dear. Imagine, a spinster at her age. Oh, don't mistake my meaning, its a good marriage to make but forty years a virgin! She probably hasn't a clue what to do with him!"
Ruth closed her ears as they moved further down the room. She saw out of the corner of her eye Sir Harry's jaw twitch in anger. Clearly Ruth hadn't been the only one to overhear the gossip and she squeezed his arm in reassurance.
Soon, to Ruth's great relief, the music for the next dance commenced and they settled in a corner near some other military officers and made polite conversation, Sir Harry renewing a few acquaintances while Ruth played the obedient wife and nodded in all the appropriate places.
In addition to the officers there were a few merchants and industrialists and the inevitable slave masters. Although the trade itself had been abolished, the ownership of other human beings continued unabated in many corners of the empire. One merchant had just returned from India via Zanzibar and was accompanied by an Arab man who claimed to be a close acquaintance of the Sultan of that important island and had come to investigate opportunities for expansion of the trade in ivory. He let it be known that he would later be travelling to Sheffield on a business trip to the cutlers of that famous town and as soon as they were properly introduced, Ruth surprised the collective gathering by launching into eager Arabic with the visitor. Although he was quite surprised at being addressed in his own tongue by a white English woman, he was most polite and cordial and at the end seemed to attempt a compliment my maintaining that in spite of her age, Ruth would make an excellent addition to his harem, a comment which, in turn, prompted Harry to step in and politely manoeuvre his wife away for a dance.
They danced the next by the end of which Ruth could see that Harry's knees were troubling him and so she suggested they leave the dance floor in search of the punch bowl. Ruth herself required a visit to the powder room and Sir Harry promised to fetch them both a drink and to meet her in a few minutes by the sideboard. It was upon exiting the powder room that Ruth found herself in something of an awkward quandary for she had only stepped out the door when she overheard two women gossiping about her husband.
"Dear Lord, The General can fill a pair of breaches," One woman fanned herself heavily, as if about to faint while staring in the direction of her husband's scarlet evening coat.
"I hear he's rather athletic for a man of his age." The second woman replied. She was wearing a ridiculous hair piece with dark feathers spouting out of the top that made Ruth want to laugh.
"Oh? From whom?"
"A friend of a friend. She was intimately acquainted with him on his last trip to London, some two years ago now."
The line was delivered with such a prim attitude of snobbishness that Ruth was left in no doubt that the friend probably did not actually exist. Another one of Harry's flings, then.
"I do wonder at his new wife. Why on earth a man of his stature would choose a wife of such low breeding and little wealth is beyond me. He could have any debutante in London. I know several delicious girls, untouched, seventeen. Give him a few months and he'd have any of them ripe and swollen and he chooses some elderly hag who, rumour has it, on more than one occasion spent months at sea on ship full of men! Do you know, it is said that they are to live in some cubby little town house? In a terrace! The house on the Crescent is only borrowed you know. The Quinns still have it, after all. He can't have made nearly as much on campaign as people have said!"
The other woman guffawed. "There surely cannot be any love in the case!"
"I can only imagine she is with child, or there is some other obligation. She's an odd little thing. Nearly forty, from what I hear. Never married. Few acquaintances in society."
"Hardly likely she is with child at her age, surely?" A third joined in.
A fourth sidled up. "I saw them dancing earlier. He seemed quite besotted with her, if you ask me."
"Hunter tells me she plays chess and fights with swords," Said the first.
Well, Ruth mused, her father had once taught her how to use a cutlass. She wasn't exactly walking around in men's clothes and carrying pistols although with Harry's attitude of late Ruth supposed he would probably have little objection if she chose to take up arms.
"I don't suppose the little hag has any idea what to do with a decent piece of meat like that. The poor man is probably gagging for it by now."
"Hunter wouldn't mind?"
"Dear God, no! Hunter would find it hilarious if I managed to separate them. He told me he tried to have her but she's such a shrivelled up little witch that her dry little cunt-"
Ruth stormed past them, head held high, clasping her purse in her hand with white-hot knuckles. As soon as she saw Harry she made a beeline towards him and clutched at his arm.
"Ruth? Ruth what has happened? You don't look well."
Ruth shook her head, grabbed Harry's punch bowl and downed it in one.
Harry stared on, eyes wide and shocked and immediately poured her another.
"Lord Hunter's mistress is here. She's with some woman who seems to be an old friend of yours."
Beside Ruth, Harry's blood ran cold. There was only one reason for Lord Hunter's mistress to be here in Bath. "Then Lord Hunter will be here too. He must be here for his son."
"Danny and Zoe?"
"They had plans of marrying here, did they not?" Harry reminded her.
"She knows of the assault."
Harry stared at Ruth in horror.
"I heard them talking, outside the powder room. From what I can gather he gloated about his...prowess."
"We're leaving! Now!"
Ruth stepped in front of her husband to block his path.
"Ruth, don't." Harry told his wife firmly. He was set upon finding the woman and spilling blood but Ruth wasn't looking at Harry, her eye were fixed over her shoulder in a manner that soon had Harry turning around. There, standing at the entrance where they themselves had appeared not one hour ago, was Harry's Goddaughter, Zoe along with her fiance, Daniel Hunter and his father.
"Harry..."
Slowly Harry turned around. He stilled, violently. He was silent and fuming. One word and he would have been across the room pinning the man to the wall but the presence of Daniel and Zoe along with half of Bath forced Harry to suppress his ire. With Ruth by his side Harry froze, shaking with fury.
"Don't even think about it," Ruth told him firmly.
"I didn't say anything."
"You cannot run a man through at an assembly. Not even outside one. I hardly need to remind you, Harry, that there is more at stake here than you or I."
"I'm starting to think America can handle itself."
"And I'm starting to think, Harry, that love has gone to your head. Or have your forgotten why you first engaged me in the first place? Do you think I have somehow forgotten the work I have undertaken on your behalf? We are in the midst of a serious threat to the future of the Kingdom! Lord Hunter is more than a threat to myself and to Zoe, he is engaged in espionage against His King's Majesty and he is playing the United States against us for monetary gain. He needs us to lose the war in the Americas and has undertaken to betray King and Country by every possible means in order to bring that about."
"We will lose the war in the Americas. A more foolhardy military expedition I have never heard of!"
"And yet," Ruth reminded her husband, "He increases the chance of major military losses by passing information to the United States that undermines His Majesty's forces. He knows of ship movements, of food stocks. How many animals we have, of horses and ships and men, of how battle hardened they are, of how swiftly they can move across land. He had advance notice of our troop movements directly from his government sources in Whitehall. Boston, Harry. Chesapeake Bay. The landing sights, the logistics planning. He may even know of the plan to take the Capitol and meanwhile we have his men stirring things up against the French. If the war on the continent restarts while our main force is across an Ocean being decimated by a terribly well informed enemy..."
"...then we shall struggle indeed," Harry scrubbed a hand across his forehead. "Napoleon will be freed and may very well win and England overcome and all of it to make a larger profit on sugar."
"Money and power have always gone hand in hand, Harry."
At that precise moment, Ruth was startled out of their hushed conversation by a new voice exclaiming happily at the sight of their presence.
"Thick as thieves!" A familiar voice declared.
Ruth whipped around to see Zoe smiling happily at the sight of them both and standing contentedly close to her fiance, Lance-Corporal Daniel Hunter. As the only black man in the room not in livery, Lance-Corporal Hunter's presence was garnering a few looks and mutters. More so even than Ruth. Many had heard of Lord Hunter's black son. The way his father continued to parade him in society was a scandal to many of those who held financial interests in the slave estates of the colonies. One might rape or employ or enslave a black person. One might even allow one in a private household. One did not parade one's colonial by-blows in polite English society, thank you very much.
Those who knew Danny, however, knew him for the man of integrity he was. Nothing, indeed, like his father. Although he had a taste for fine things, Danny was a man who had more than once displayed a propensity to stand up for those weaker than himself. Ruth would never forget the way he had ridden to her aid along with Harry on the night that her poor maid Beth was killed and after having some initial reservations about Zoe's choice of husband, Ruth was beginning to see how much they cared for each other. There would inevitably be many challenges but just as Zoe had respected her own choice of husband, Ruth realied it was only right for her to return the favour. As an example of a man, Danny Hunter rose in her estimation almost every time Ruth encountered him.
For some reason at that precise moment, as Ruth looked upon Zoe, Catherine Pearce came to mind. Ruth supposed that it may well be beneficial to Catherine to arrange for her and Zoe to spend a little more time together. Sir Harry was Zoe's godfather by virtue of her guardian, Lucas North and Ruth realised her husband was probably too wrapped up in matters military for most of their upbringings to realise the need to encourage the expansion of their respective social circle. Certainly, from what Ruth had heard of her husband's first wife the probability of her encouraging Catherine to socialise with anyone from her husband's connections was rather slim.
Danny's exclamation of delight at the sight of them brought Ruth back to the present.
"General Pearce. Lady Pearce. I believe congratulations are in order!" Danny greeted Sir Harry with a warm handshake and a manly slap on the shoulder in the way of military men. At his side, Ruth tried to gather her thoughts and attempted a smile at Lance-Corporal Hunter's cordial greeting. As delighted as Ruth was to see the couple and renew their acquaintance, the sight of Lord Hunter in their party along with the tenor of the discussion they had interrupted was rather jarring to Ruth's sensibilities and perhaps that was why she was diverting herself with thoughts of Catherine and other things. She struggled to adjust as Harry smoothly launched into conversation, enquiring after his Goddaughter's health and Lord Hunter's time with his father. Danny's grumpy response included an insulting side eye in the direction of his father that made Ruth smile even as Zoe chastised him for his discourtesy. Zoe then took it upon herself to launch into a lengthy explanation of their plans for the wedding, of how her Guardian was attempting to fight Lord Hunter over who should pay for what, a disagreement over the dowry and the contentious issue of where they should settle after the ceremony.
"Father wants us in London, naturally. After discovering what I have in your employment you can hardly be surprised at my displeasure. Frankly I'd rather be as far from him as possible. He'll still send me an allowance if I travel, but the road would be hard on Zoe and there is the ever present danger of renewed war. If the war should restart I might go back to Europe but that would necessitate leaving Zoe behind and we neither of us want to be parted so soon into our marriage."
"You would consider leaving the Army?"
"If I can find other employment. Father wishes I could go to the Estates but of course as a black man my personage is hardly safe there. In some part of the Caribbean it is still the law that all black men are slaves. Free men like me don't exist. Even in the southern United States I have heard many disturbing instances of free men being kidnapped and sold. I suppose we might try for the North, or a new part of the Southern American continent. There is still good land to be had there where we might make a fresh start."
"South America?" Harry started. This was the first he had heard of such a scheme. "Stay out of the way of the Portuguese!"
"You hardly need to remind me, General Pearce."
"Don't I? If our plan succeeds your father will be finished. You may inherit but you may also be ruined. You could be left with nothing." Harry glanced at Zoe. "I am sorry to say it, but you must both be aware of the peril you are in, both physical and financial."
"General," Danny leaned in, "He is attempting to set us up with massive losses in the Americas, such that not only would we lose the war but the scale of the losses would render another invasion of the United States completely impossible! We cannot let him succeed!"
"Danny," Ruth glanced at Zoe softly, "It isn't the United States that concerns us. If our main forces there are engaged in a losing battle against a better informed enemy and France declares war once again at the same time, England will struggle to fight both fronts at once. If we are taken by surprise in Europe, even worse."
Zoe gasped at the prospect. "England might fall?"
"Well after my last meeting with the Home Secretary I am beginning to think if our present politicians continue down their current path, your father's assistance will hardly be required to bring that circumstance about. Still, you are all correct in one way or another as regards the scale of the problem. Were Lord Hunter's information less valuable the problem would be easier to handle. As it is his information stems from Government itself, from Whitehall and The Palace. Such are his connections. His activities against the State cannot be allowed to continue. Sooner or later he must be stopped. I am convinced France will declare war on us again. That country is not yet done with us and the sooner this foolhardy rubbish in the Americas is nipped in the bud the better."
"Well, at the very least you need not fret that I shall be destitute," Danny informed them. "I have some little money set aside with North has agreed to hand me directly after your discussion with him."
Ruth looked at her husband, "What discussion with him?"
Harry blushed, "When I gave him the money for Zoe's dresses – and yours – before our marriage I informed him of my suspicions regarding Lord Hunter. He has been through much in his short life and survived rather a nasty run-in with the Russians but he's a good sort at heart."
"So," Danny continued, "Thanks to our good friend North there is Zoe's dowry, my own savings and I also have some valuable personal items I can sell on to raise funds if needs be."
"And we can lend you a little as well," Ruth stepped in.
This was news to Harry. "We can?"
Ruth put on her best innocent face and squeezed her husband's arm a little tighter. "I'm sure we can find a little spare coin lying around?"
Zoe laughed out loud at the innocent expression on Ruth's face and the matching look of suspicion on Harry's as his eyes narrowed in mock annoyance. He knew he was being played, what amused Zoe was how little he seemed to mind. Her Godfather had always been a contrary man. Variously sweet and furious, kind and irate. Yet for much of her life he had paid her whatever attention he could spare, regardless of war and marital strife and wayward children. Ruth she had only become acquainted with after an excellent reference from the neighbour's governess and the prospect of ever introducing them or matching them had never occurred to her. Yet it delighted Zoe to see her former chaperone so happy in marriage to a man who had been so instrumental in her life. It gave her hope that such a thing was possible as she stood at Danny's side.
Ruth smiled at Zoe and slid out of Harry's arm to take the young woman by the elbow. Daniel, Ruth guessed, had brought Zoe up to speed on matters regarding Lord Hunter and their recent adventures in espionage. Yet whether or not Danny had informed his intended about his father's behaviour, Ruth had no idea and she decided there and then that it was time she took matters into her own hands and they conferred one to one, as women.
"Miss Reynolds, it seem my husbands knees give him trouble and he has not much interest in dancing. Unless you are engaged for the next would you oblige me by accompanying me on a turn about the room?"
Zoe smiled at her former chaperone. "Of course. If you would excuse us gentlemen, we shall leave you to talk."
Harry and Danny bowed low as the ladies departed but Harry's eyes lingered on Ruth with a wistful expression.
"Do you love her?" He asked Danny quietly.
"With all my heart."
"Good."
"And you, General?" Danny enquired.
Harry sighed a long sigh and stared long at his wife. "More than I knew it was possible to love another human being." Harry let his eyes linger a moment longer until they disappeared into the hallway. Then he took in a deep breath and gathered himself. "Come, let us sit upon the ground."
"...and tell sad stories of the death of kings."