Gallant Scoundrel Read Free

gave a slight nod. “Perhaps that can be arranged, though when I finish here I still have two days of notes to transcribe for my father. Brilliant as he is, he rarely takes the time to make his hand legible to anyone but myself.”  
    “At your convenience, of course.” Harry leaned a shoulder against one of the tent poles. “One of the men mentioned that you spent much of your youth in India, Miss Maxwell. Is that where your father encountered General Wellesley?”
    Deftly folding a canvas cloth on which the surgical instruments had been laid to dry after washing, she nodded. “My father was there pursuing his archaeological research and the two discovered a shared passion for military history, though my father’s research has been far more extensive. I overheard exceedingly long discussions between them about ancient battle tactics when I was eight or nine years old. When General Wellesley left Calcutta, they continued those discussions by correspondence.”
    “And where did you travel after India?”
    She furrowed her brow. “Persia, then Tibet for nearly a year—that is where I learned many of the methods I use with the wounded. Twice to Greece after that and once to Italy, Arabia briefly, then finally back to England.”
    Harry took the folded canvas from her and added it to a stack on a nearby table. “Is that when Wellesley persuaded your father to serve as an advisor to his regiments?”
    “Not immediately. General Wellesley was in Ireland, then Denmark, after which he’d intended to sail for the West Indies. Meanwhile, I was attempting to persuade my father to allow me to enlist as a man to help fight against the French. I quite fancied myself a modern day Boudicca or Joan of Arc, who would single-handedly lead the British forces to victory.” Her throaty little laugh sent a sudden flicker of desire through him.  
    “You may do so yet. Indeed, Miss Maxwell, I begin to believe there is very little you could not accomplish, should you set your mind to it.”
    She frowned. “I have little patience with flattery, sir, for I am not so exceptional as you seem to think. In truth, most women are capable of far more than they realize, certainly more than most men would care to believe. The mere fact that we are barred from training as surgeons, lawyers, or even soldiers, does not mean we are incapable of learning, and excelling, as well or better than our brothers.”  
    Harry was careful not to allow his surprise at this unorthodox view to show in his expression. “After seeing what you did to Phillips last night, I don’t dare disagree.”  
    Privately, however, he had no doubt that Miss Maxwell was a most unusual woman indeed…and one who increasingly attracted him. Though alert for any opportunity to spend time with her, he at first only managed a few words here and there. He was often out on maneuvers, and she seemed to have even less idle time in camp than he did. In addition to transcribing notes, she spent long hours translating various texts of her father’s from Greek, Latin and even Sanskrit into English.  
    When wounded were brought into camp from occasional skirmishes with the French, she faced more pressing work, for she proved to have far more medical knowledge than the orderly assigned to the 45th, whose sole prior experience had been two months as a surgeon’s mate.  
    While days were generally spent drilling or marching, evenings in camp were often enlivened by the soldiers adding to their rum rations any wine or spirits taken from French troops or gifted by the locals. Harry never partook, however. Liquor had been largely responsible for his father losing the small estate he’d received as an earl’s second son, giving Harry an aversion to the stuff.
    That abstinence freed his evenings to learn more of Xena Maxwell’s life history—and a fascinating history it was. From the time of her mother’s death when she was but five years old, Xena had traveled the globe with her father,