"Yes," she said, taking herself in hand. "Yes, you're right. What's in a piece of paper?"

The door of the church banged shut, and in startled reflex they jumped guiltily apart. Frowning, Marcus came toward them, his suspicions flaring anew. "Am I intruding on family secrets?" His voice was stiff.

Desperately, Judith sought an answer that was not wholly an untruth. Her smile was strained, but she made an effort to speak naturally. "We were talking about our father. He died last year in Vienna."

"He would have been happy to see Judith married." Sebastian stepped in smoothly. "He didn't have much happiness in his life."

"No," Judith agreed. "Our mother died when we were babies and he never recovered." She passed the back of her hand over her forehead. "If I don't sit down soon, I think I'm going to fall over."

"You need to eat," Marcus said immediately, the gnawing rat of mistrust for the moment appeased. "We'll go to the duke's headquarters."

Sebastian chose to return to his friends in the village tavern while Marcus hustled Judith into a stone farmhouse, one of the few buildings with its roof still intact, where they found Wellington's staff sitting around a table. The duke himself was chewing a hunk of barley bread as he fired off dispatches to a steady stream of runners.

Francis Tallent offered Judith a pewter cup of rough red wine, greeting her pleasantly and without surprise. Fleetingly, Judith wondered what he must have thought that morning when she'd drifted into the taproom with her shirt unbuttoned and her hair tumbling about her ears. It was best not to speculate, she decided, taking a seat at the table.

It didn't take long before she was completely at ease. The condition of her clothes, her exhaustion that matched their own, the part she'd played in the last hours, provided her pass into this group of battle-weary veterans. Even Wellington greeted her with an absent yet friendly acceptance, accused Marcus of being a secretive dog to keep his marriage plans under wraps, and suggested she try to wash the blood from her skirt with a mixture of salt and water.

Judith spent what was left of her wedding night wrapped up in a military greatcoat, asleep on a table at the end of the room, while the military conference went on around her. Marcus looked across at her and tried not to dwell on how they would have been spending this night in more traditional circumstances. He took off his coat, rolled it up into a pillow, and gently lifted her head, slipping it beneath her. Her eyelids fluttered, and she mumbled something inarticulate. He smiled, stroked her hair, its usual burnish faded, and returned to the table.

Judith was awakened just before dawn by an orderly, who touched her shoulder tentatively. "Ma'am… there's coffee, ma'am. We're on the move."

She opened her eyes and blinked up at him in bemusement. Slowly memory returned and she struggled into a sitting position, swinging her legs over the edge of the table. She took the steaming mug from the orderly with a grateful smile. Apart from the two of them, the room was empty.

"Where is everybody?"

"Outside, ready to move, ma'am," he said. "His lordship's waiting for you."

"Thank you." She slid off the table and made her way outside into the damp, gray light, her hands cupped around the comforting warmth of the mug.

Men and horses milled around the front door. Wellington was mounted on Copenhagen, his favorite charger, and the beast pranced impatiently, tossing his head, sniffing the wind. The village seemed quiet, after the frenzy of the previous evening, and a line of wagons moved away from the field hospital toward Brussels, transporting those the surgeons had managed to patch up. Burial parties were at work in a neighboring field, turning the sod with their shovels, wraithlike figures in the dawn mist.

Marcus, holding the bridle of a black stallion, stood talking with Francis Tallent. Judith hurried over to him. Colonel Tallent greeted her cheerfully, then made his excuses and went to join the duke.

Judith examined her husband. He looked tired but calm. "Are we to leave straightaway?"

Marcus gave her his own searching look. "As soon as you're ready. Are you rested at all? The table made a hard bed."

She laughed. "I've slept in many a hard place in my time, sir. Indeed, I'm very rested. I must have slept for three hours." She took an appreciative gulp of the coffee. "This is the elixir of the gods."

Marcus smiled. "A lifesaver I agree. You'll have to manage the cart today on your own, I'm afraid. Just keep up as best you can."

Judith looked at the stallion. "You're riding?"

"Yes, one of Francis's spares."

"I suppose he doesn't have one for me," she said disconsolately.

Marcus regarded her calmly. "It wouldn't matter if he did. After 'borrowing' -as you so charmingly put it- the cart and horse, it's your responsibility to look after it and make sure it's returned to its owner no worse for wear."

Judith pulled a face but couldn't dispute the justice of this. "I hadn't expected to keep it for so long."

A glimmer of amusement appeared in the ebony eyes. "No, I'm sure you hadn't. But then, rather a lot of unexpected things have happened in the last day or so."

"They have," agreed Judith with a tiny answering smile. "But I daresay the owner will be happy with a handsome compensation. I'm sure the tavern keeper will find him for me when we get back to Brussels."

"Conscience conveniently quietened?" he mocked.

Judith laughed. "My conscience was never uneasy. However, if I can't ride with you, then I'll stay here today. There's still work to be done at the hospital."

Marcus frowned, considering. She'd proved herself competent enough yesterday. "I suppose I could allow you to do that. I'll send someone for you later. When he comes, though, you're to go with him without delay. He'll have orders to bring you to me at once, because there's no knowing how long we'll be in any one place. If you delay, I may lose you. Is that clear?"

It had been a short moment of accord. "Yes, it's perfectly clear, and would have been equally so without your sounding so autocratic," she pointed out, reflecting that it was never too early to start her program of reform. "I'm not in the schoolroom."

"For heaven's sake, Judith, I don't have time to squabble with you in the middle of a war!"

"Oh, listen to you!" she exclaimed in a fierce undertone. "That's exactly what I mean."

Taking her shoulders, he pulled her toward him. "Maybe I am a trifle autocratic, but you're as bristly as a porcupine this morning." Despite the irritation in his voice, he couldn't control the flicker of desire in his eyes. Although her cheeks were flushed with indignation, dark currents of promise lurked below the surface of her eyes, and he could feel in memory the print of her soft mouth on his. "Porcupine or not, I want you," he murmured. "Somehow, I'll contrive something for later." He ran his finger over her mouth. "And we'll be a world away from any schoolroom, I can safely promise you that." His eyebrows rose and his eyes gleamed. "Will that guarantee your obedience, lynx?"

Judith grinned, her irritation vanished. "I'll come when I'm called, sir."

He caught her face and kissed her, a hard, assertive salute that left her lips tingling and heated her blood. "A further promise," he said, then turned, swung onto his horse, and rode off with a backward wave.