“Maybe, though I think it more likely he’ll come straight at us because our army is weaker,” Simon said bluntly. “About a third of our soldiers are experienced British troops, but most of your Dutch-Belgian troops are not battle tested.”
“They’ll run like rabbits unless stiffened by the British.” The duke nodded, looking grim as he studied the list of military units Simon had seen. “Not to mention that we’re almost certainly outnumbered. If there is a pitched battle, we’ll need the Prussians to carry the day.”
Grant said, “If Bonaparte can drive a wedge between us and the Prussians, he’ll do it, and then swing around to crush our Anglo-Dutch army.”
“Bonaparte may not make the decision purely on military considerations,” Simon said a little hesitantly. “This is merely my opinion, but I think he’s angered by the description of you as ‘the Conqueror of the Conqueror of the World.’ His critics point out that he’s never fought you face to face. I suspect he wants to prove that he can defeat you. Thatheis the Conqueror of Conquerors.”
“Schoolroom games,” Wellington grunted. “A damned foolish way to run a war!”
“True,” Grant said with a humorless smile. “But I can see Bonaparte doing that.”
“What matters is where and when he marches,” Wellington said. “Gentlemen, it’s time to look at some maps.”
A large map of northern France and Belgium was pinned to the wall, and the three of them gathered in front of it to discuss possible French lines of march, roads, terrain, likely weather, and whatever other factors might play into the emperor’s decisions.
Among the three of them, they had a great deal of information about the territory. The discussion was useful but inconclusive. Wellington frowned at the map. “The devil of it is that a wrong guess on the direction of the enemy’s march could be fatal. Mons? Charleroi? A different route into Belgium? Moving an army is like herding elephants. March in the wrong direction and it’s almighty difficult to turn your force back the right way.”
His gaze moved from Simon to Grant and back again. “Which is why I need you fellows to figure out where the emperor is going in time to prevent disastrous errors. Duval, I’d like you to pay attention to this area.” He swept his hand over the map to the south and southwest of Brussels, an area that included Charleroi, Mons, and France all the way to Paris. “Grant, look to the east and the area south of the Prussians. You both know the kind of information I need. Duval, how soon can you leave?”
Steeling himself, Simon said, “Tomorrow, sir.”
Wellington gave a nod of satisfaction. “Good.” Then he turned his attention to Grant, and Simon quietly withdrew.
On his walk back to the house on the rue de Louvain, he bought a bouquet of lilacs and lilies from a flower seller as he thought through all that had to be done before he could leave. It was a surprisingly short list. He’d be traveling light and camping most nights. From experience he knew exactly what was needed.
Suzanne must have been waiting for his return because she emerged from the drawing room as soon as he entered the house. When she saw his face, she drew a deep breath and asked, “When?”
“Tomorrow. I’m sorry,ma chérie,” he said quietly.
She accepted the flowers and bowed her head to inhale the scents, or perhaps to hide her expression. “You’ll miss the wedding.”
“I know.”
She raised her head, expression under control. “On the positive side, Philippe has his wagon packed with seed and farm tools, and he’s ready to head off for Château Chambron first thing in the morning.”
“He’s worked fast! Excellent. This way, I can travel with him and help him get on his feet, and it’s right on the way for me.”
“Is there anything I can do to help you prepare?”
He shook his head. “I only have to shove a few things into my saddlebags.”
She nodded, her gaze still on him. They seemed to have run out of words. He lightly brushed his knuckles under her chin. “I’ll see you later,ma chérie.”
At least they had one more night together.
* * *
This last night was luminescent with pleasure and pain. By the time Simon and Suzanne had exhausted themselves, it was almost dawn. Simon had his arm around his wife, holding her as close as humanly possible. She was trembling and he knew she was struggling not to cry.
“I won’t be gone long,” he said softly. “I think this war will be over in weeks, not months. Certainly it won’t be years.”
She turned to look up at him, her eyes stark. “Think of me at midnight, and I will think of you at the same time. Since you’ll be traveling, you might not always be able to manage the exact time, but know that when midnight strikes, I will be thinking of you. We may not be together in our bed, but our minds can hold thoughts of each other.”
He felt like weeping. Instead, he clasped her hand and held it against the center of his chest. “Minds and hearts,mon ange. Always you will be in my heart.”
He leaned down to kiss her, and they found that they had the strength to make love one last time.
Chapter 36
