Company Of Spears

Hervey was not ready for this turn. He had supposed, somehow, that it had all been said in India – by the regimental major, perhaps. ‘Well … that is … yes, I do. I … indeed I saw him fall.’

Kezia Lankester now looked down at her plate. ‘I imagine he was to the fore?’

‘Oh, he was. Indeed he was. He was at the head of one of the trenches closest the walls of Bhurtpore.’ He was surprised she needed to ask.

‘And was his death … was it done quickly?’

Hervey sighed. ‘It was instant, madam.’

‘You are certain of it, Major Hervey? You do not say it just for my sake?’

Hervey shook his head. ‘I am certain of it.’

‘So he was unable to say anything by way of … last words.’

‘I am afraid not.’

He could not determine whether his reply was a comfort or the exact opposite. He wondered why she was so concerned with last words. They were rarely, in his experience, especially noble, and frequently they were entirely profane.

She seemed now to rally. ‘And how do you like your command? Poor Major Strickland: I thought him a fine man.’

Hervey was momentarily thrown off what passed for his stride by the bitter-sweet in the connection of command and his old friend’s death. ‘Well, I … command of one’s regiment, even temporarily, is the greatest satisfaction.’

‘But Lady Somervile tells me you may have the lieutenant-colonelcy proper soon.’

Hervey wished Emma had not. ‘I very much hope it may be so, Lady Lankester, but there are many formalities.’

‘And your daughter, as I recall: she is well?’

Again, the sudden turn she took broke his stride. But he had surrendered the initiative …’She is well, thank you.’ He tried to form a question by return: her own daughter—

‘And she is, as I remember, with your sister in Wiltshire?’

‘Indeed.’ He was now determined to wrest back the initiative, at least partially: ‘And you will be staying in Gloucestershire long?’

But wresting was hardly necessary, for she seemed perfectly content to surrender the initiative. Glad, even. And so the initiative remained with him for the rest of their dinner, his fluency in finding question after question quite taking him by surprise, until, after a while, there was no initiative but free conversation – and on matters other than the here and now, the weather or family, the subjects by which a little prior study usually served in otherwise faltering table-talk. He was even composed enough to observe her closely as they spoke. He had admired her complexion when they had dined at Lord George Irvine’s: it was fair, and she had applied a blushing stick, no doubt to relieve her mourning pallor, and he fancied she had again this evening. But soon he concluded that her face was more naturally suffused with colour, and altogether warmer than that evening in January. He found himself admiring the gentle swell of her breast, and although her lips were decidedly thinner than Kat’s – or for that matter Vaneeta’s – he began wondering, too…

‘Whom do you think shall be prime minister?’

He woke sharply. He had heard the question plainly but evidently not what had preceded it. Desperately, he used one of the devices Kat had taught him. ‘Whom do you think shall be prime minister?’

She smiled (did she recognize the trick?). ‘I asked first, Major Hervey!’

Great heavens, he thought, and with admiration: this woman was assured! And her protest was not without a certain teasing – which these days he recognized as encouragement rather than the opposite. ‘Sir Eyre Somervile believes it might be the Duke of Wellington.’

She frowned purposefully. ‘Surely not, Major Hervey. Would the duke fit that office?’

‘You mean, ma’am, may a soldier do ought but bark orders?’

She smiled again. ‘Would you imagine the duke to be given to discussion?’

‘I know him but a little, but I know him to take counsel, and even his time in the Peninsula required a good deal of diplomacy.’ He tapped the table. ‘Now, ma’am, perhaps you will tell me your opinion.’

She gave it freely and in such a manner as to command his considerable attention. He could not help but think that although Kat would have been able to say as much, it would have been hearsay and the whispered opinion of high-placed confidants. With Kezia Lankester it was very evidently her own thinking. And he liked what he saw of her serious mind.