Suddenly she slipped her small thin fingers into his hand.
“Let’s go with them,” she whispered. “Let’s go back to fight beside the Duke of Wellington. You would like that – I know. The British are advancing and soon they will be over the mountains and into France, driving towards Paris and defeating the Emperor with every step they make. Let’s go – with them.”
She felt Lord Wye’s fingers tighten over hers and knew that he was listening to what she was saying, following in his mind the British reinforcements.
For a moment she knew that he was tempted. For a moment she even thought that he might agree to her suggestion.
And then he released her hand.
“No,” he answered. “I have to go back. The Prime Minister will be expecting me. When he sent me to Lisbon he refused to let me join Wellin
