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“He was not upset, he made no rude comments?”

“She is always chaperoned by me, so there are rarely comments, at least at the supper table. I know I am partial but she is extremely well-read when it comes to the conduct of the war.”

“Is she still oblivious?”

“It is as clear as day to everyone but the two of them. And him?”

“The same. Georgiana received a letter at the beginning of the week from Anne, her cousin, and even she mentioned it. And she has never even met Miss Bennet. As every day passes it gets more and more absurd that they do not realise how perfect they are for each other. Who do you think will realise first?”

“They are both as bad as each other. I really cannot tell. If I had to guess Georgiana will say something to Elizabeth that will make her realise. Not maliciously, but she is a 15 year old young lady and will be unable to help herself.”

Lady Susan did not seem upset at the prospect.

“Frankly they need all the help they can get.”

Chapter 27

Lady Maria Leonard was sure that her young friend and protégé was unaware that she was twitching with each thrust and parry of the officers in front of her. The Cuidad Rodrigo Celebration Tournament, the full name of the social spectacle happening all around them, was a huge success. The south east facing grounds of the Royal Hospital Chelsea had been transformed into a huge multi-salle arena. There were four duels happening simultaneously so each quadrant was packed with the supporters of the officers fighting in that quarter of the draw. The tournament had 64 participants so each quadrant had 16 soldiers fighting duels to find the best two in that quadrant. The Eastern quadrant, closest to the River Thames, was the exclusive preserve of the Royal Navy. This would ensure that there were at least two naval officers in the final eight. In the centre of the arena, raised slightly, was the salle where the final eight competitors would fight. There had been significant planning and preparation to make the event run smoothly. The one aspect that was beyond anyone’s control had cooperated. It was not a warm Spring day, far from it, but although the sky was overcast there was no sign of rain.

Lady Maria felt Elizabeth twitch against her arm again. They were sitting with the Matlocks and the Darcys supporting Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. Lady Maria had expected to enjoy the event, but remain detached throughout it. The reality was far from that slightly languorous outlook. There was a real sense of occasion to the event. Every single entrant had tens of supporters, be they family members, fellow officers of the regiment or those with a connection several generations removed. Lady Maria was not directly supporting Richard Fitzwilliam, at least not initially. She was wearing a small badge of the 25th Regiment of Foot, the regiment her father had commanded. Enterprising merchants had done a roaring trade with these small badges so that, again, everyone could be an active supporter. Elizabeth had the badge of the 1st Royal Dragoon Guards, the Colonel’s regiment, on her shoulder.

Elizabeth herself was amazed at the efficiency of the whole event. The first two rounds of duels, from 16 participants down to eight and then from eight down to four, were just a single match. All the build-up and it could be over suddenly. The matches to find the final two that were going to represent the whole quadrant were the best of three but there was still a ruthless efficiency to moving everything along. When she asked Mr. Darcy the time she realised that even with this efficiency it had still taken more than an hour to reduce the field to the final eight officers.

She was also once again conscious of the difference between book learning and seeing the real thing. She had read of fights in newspapers and journals, the cut and thrust, often reflecting the skill of the writer rather than the swordsmen. To see the different sizes of men, the different styles of sword play, the ferocity and energy even in a controlled setting, it was fascinating but sobering at the same time. She paid particular attention to the Colonel, the person she was cheering on and supporting this day. She had no idea what exactly was different, but she could see something was different compared to some of the other officers. Darcy answered her question.

“Cavalry officers by definition fight from horseback. The cavalry officers are at a disadvantage in an event like this. A large part of their training is to be in tandem with their horse, not just moving their sword arm, but also manoeuvring the horse, often with their knees and thighs. The best cavalry officers are normally the best horsemen, you need both skills to be successful.”

During a match where Richard was not involved Elizabeth’s attention was drawn to the Naval quadrant where it seemed that yet another style was dominating. The matches there appeared almost brutal, much more than the stylised bouts of the Army officers. As the final matches in each quadrant started she glanced over at the central box. There her uncle and cousin sat, in pride of place. Her uncle was going to present the brandy to the winning officer and lead the toast to the fallen of Cuidad Rodrigo. She could not be more proud of him, overcoming the loss of his legs to be at the heart of one of the events of the season. And she knew that he would spend the rest of the week recovering from the exertion and dealing with the phantom pains in his missing left ankle.

When the Colonel won his second match to claim a place in the final eight Elizabeth was not alone in standing and cheering. All three Matlocks, both Darcys and Lady Maria joined her in applauding his performance so far. He acknowledged their support with a smile and a salute. Georgiana swapped places with her brother and sat down next to Elizabeth.

“Lizzie, is this not just the most exciting event ever?”

Elizabeth had to smile at the youthful exuberance on display. Before the matches started the arena had been full of people projecting studied indifference. However, it had not taken many duels before that dissipated and supporters young and old, male and female had been engrossed in the action happening all around them. As the final eight officers assembled there was a draw to see who was facing who. The first set of matches to reduce the field to the final four were still the best of three but the remaining matches would be the best of five.

“Richard did ever so well. Do you think he will win?”

“I am no expert but I believe the Colonel is better than the other officer from our quadrant. The men from the Royal Navy seem to fight in a more brutal style and I am not sufficiently knowledgeable to know whether he is at an advantage or disadvantage against them. There were too many duels happening at the same time to really know what was happening in the other quadrants. I suspect that all eight officers have the skill to win, it will depend on the opponent.”

“I do hope Richard wins, it would be so exciting.”

Elizabeth clasped her friend’s hand. This was her guardian, Georgiana was wholly committed to him.

In the end, it was not to be. For once the rumour mill had been completely accurate. A young, slightly built Captain of the 1st battalion of the Scots Guards was unbeatable. Even more appropriately he had been wounded at Cuidad Rodrigo, losing three fingers of his left hand. The Colonel made it to the final match but his penultimate match was against one of the Naval officers. The match lasted all five duels, and the Colonel was close to exhaustion when he defeated the Navy man. He gave a good account of himself in the final but the Scots Guard Captain was universally acknowledged as a brilliant swordsman. There was no disgrace coming second to such a gifted wielder of the blade.

Again, the ceremony at the end was held promptly. There were genuine cheers of approval for the victor and a toast was drunk to the famous victory at Cuidad Rodrigo. The whole event took two hours and 15 minutes and it was only the last day of March. Everyone was ready to return indoors to warm up.

Elizabeth turned to Claire Smith, sitting right behind her, Mrs. Annesley beside her.

“I see Robert so we will slowly make our way over to him. I have been invited to Matlock House for a late lunch but I suspect it will be well into the afternoon before we escape from these throngs.”

“Once we get to Robert, we will walk behind you and Lady Maria so that you are not jostled in the crowd.”

“Thank you, Claire.”

It felt like the tournament took less time than getting free of the chaos of the Royal Hospital grounds but eventually they were able to return to Mayfair. Everyone was starving and lunch was devoured with indecent haste. More food was called for and hot sweet tea was gratefully drunk. At long last everyone gathered in the drawing room. The Earl remained standing.

“If I could have your attention please. I would like to say a few words.”