All in Scarlet Uniform (Napoleonic War 4) Read Free

distaste.
    Two subalterns of the light dragoons stood at the edge of the field, chatting away in voices that were nervously loud, until the major glared at them. With them was a civilian doctor, a hunched, ill-favoured fellow with the red face and prominent veins of a hard drinker. Otherwise secrecy was preserved and no one else had come to watch the encounter.
    Pringle stood behind the peg. The seconds had agreed on an exchange of at least two shots at a distance of twenty paces before apologies could be offered, since if the argument was easier to resolve then it should already have occurred. The range was at the upper end of convention, and suggested that neither Tilney nor Truscott wanted to make a fatal wound too likely. Principals were not allowed any say on such matters. Nor was Pringle permitted to reject the right to take the first shot. It had been agreed, and that was an end to it. Garland had given first offence and so should be the first to stand fire. Major Tilney was the first to insist on this point. Billy Pringle was not sure whether this marked him as a slight or extremely close friend to the young lieutenant.
    Tilney was also willing to permit Truscott to seek assistance when unable to perform his duties. Hanley moved to his side as the captain selected a pistol from each of the two identical cases of matched pairs. Then the lieutenant took these and loaded them in turn, while Major Tilney charged the other pistols for his principal. Neither man did the other the gross discourtesy of watching him as he went about this task.
    Pringle and Garland waited at their marks. The rain slackened, although both men were already thoroughly wet, their hair flattened on to their heads. Garland stared boldly at his opponent, and, not to be outdone, Billy met his gaze. Neither man showed any sign of animosity, and Pringle wondered whether the light dragoon was genuinely without malice or simply dull-witted. Billy envied the cavalryman his silk shirt, and wondered whether it was warmer than his. Fragments of silk were easier for a surgeon to pick out of a wound than the threads of cotton. He knew that his father and brothers, like a lot of RN officers, always tried to wear a silk shirt and stockings with their uniform on a day of battle. Soldiers less often had the time for such careful preparations, or the capacity to carry so full a wardrobe on campaign – excepting the Guards, of course, for the ‘Gentlemen’s sons’ always had plenty of servants and pack animals to shield them from the worst rigours of campaigning.
    Pringle let his mind wander rather than think about the coming ordeal. Then he noticed Garland start slightly when Tilney brought him the loaded pistols, and it was pleasing to see a trace of anxiety in his opponent. For a moment Pringle almost felt sorry for the boy. He could not blame him too much for wanting to tumble Kitty Williams. The three Williams sisters were pretty, with fine golden hair just like their older brother, and Kitty was a bold flirt of seventeen summers with the shape of the very ripest young Venus. Pringle doubted the seduction had been entirely one-sided, and part of him thought that bedding the little minx would be a damned sight more pleasant a use of his own time than this challenge, but that would not stop him from putting a ball in the randy little dragoon. Williams was a friend, and on brief acquaintance he had developed a great esteem for Anne, a taller, somewhat serious girl closer to her brother in character, and more Juno than Venus in shape. It was not just a question of desire. Billy was inclined to desire any half-decent woman he saw. There were feelings for the eldest Miss Williams that he had not yet had proper chance to understand. That prompted the absurd thought that it would make it all the more unfortunate if he got himself killed this morning, but it was too late to change anything.
    ‘A matter of honour,’ he said softly, and permitted himself a wry