The Lady Chosen Read Free Page A

different theater, maybe, but it’s still a form of war, the way the ladies of the ton play the game.”
    Shaking his head, Tristan sat back in his chair. “It’s a sad day when, having survived everything the French could throw at us, we, England’s heroes, return home—only to face an even greater threat.”
    “A threat to our futures like none other, and one we haven’t, thanks to our devotion to king and country, as much experience in facing as many a younger man,” Jack added.
    Silence fell.
    “You know…” Charles St. Austell poked his tankard in circles. “We’ve faced worse before, and won.” Helooked up, glanced around. “We’re all much of an age—there’s what? Five years between us? We’re all facing a similar threat, and have a similar goal in mind, for similar reasons. Why not band together—help each other?”
    “One for all and all for one?” Gervase asked.
    “Why not?” Charles glanced around again. “We’re experienced enough in strategy—surely we can, and should, approach this like any other engagement.”
    Jack sat up. “It’s not as if we’d be in competition with each other.” He, too, glanced around, meeting everyone’s eyes. “We’re all alike to some degree, but we’re all different, too, all from different families, different counties, and there’s not too few ladies but too many vying for our attentions—that’s our problem.”
    “I think it’s an excellent idea.” Leaning his forearms on the table, Christian looked at Charles, then at the others. “We all have to wed. I don’t know about you, but I’ll fight to the last gasp to retain control of my destiny. I will choose my wife—I will not have her foisted, by whatever means, upon me. Thanks to Tony’s fortuitous reconnoitering, we now know the enemy will be waiting, ready to pounce the instant we appear.” He glanced around again. “So how are we going to seize the initiative?”
    “The same way we always have,” Tristan replied. “Information is key. We share what we learn—dispositions of the enemy, their habits, their preferred strategies.”
    Deverell nodded. “We share tactics that work, and warn of any perceived pitfalls.”
    “But what we need first, more than anything,” Tony cut in, “is a safe refuge. It’s always the first thing we put in place when going into enemy territory.”
    They all paused, considered.
    Charles grimaced. “Before your news, I would have imagined our clubs, but that clearly won’t do.”
    “No, and our houses are not safe for similar reasons.” Jack frowned. “Tony’s right—we need a refuge where wecan be certain we’re safe, where we can meet and exchange information.” His brows rose. “Who knows? There might be times when it would be to our advantage to conceal our connections with each other, at least socially.”
    The others nodded, exchanging glances.
    Christian put their thoughts into words. “We need a club of our own. Not to live in, although we might want a few bedchambers in case of need, but a club where we can meet, and from which we can plan and conduct our campaigns in safety without having to watch our backs.”
    “Not a bolt-hole,” Charles mused. “More a castle…”
    “A stronghold in the heart of enemy territory.” Deverell nodded decisively. “Without it, we’ll be too exposed.”
    “And we’ve been away too long,” Gervase growled. “The harpies will fall on us and tie us down if we waltz into the ton unprepared. We’ve forgotten what it’s like…if we ever truly knew.”
    It was a tacit acknowledgment that they were indeed sailing into unknown and therefore dangerous waters. Not one of them had spent any meaningful time in society after the age of twenty.
    Christian looked around the table. “We have five full months before we need our refuge—if we have it established by the end of February, we’ll be able to return to town and slip in past the pickets, disappear whenever we wish…”
    “My estate’s