30th May, evening in camp

Jenny Ross. Blackwood's attention was immediately caught. He looked at Woodmarsh with interest. Now how, he wondered, had the lieutenant come to know this woman. Who, as he recalled, had been involved with the mess that he had so recently attended a court martial about.

"Welcome, Miss Ross," Blackwood said courteously, giving no sign of his curious surprise.

"Thank you, captain," she answered sweetly.

Now why would a lieutenant drag a camp follower along to a posh dinner like this? And why would she agree to be dragged along? He didn't recognise the lieutenant, but he was obviously of the 2nd Foot Guards.

And he'd be willing to bet that the other Guards officers were wondering why he'd dragged his whore along.

Hmph, thought Alexander Cobb as he sized up the two late arrivals. The Guards lieutenant looked little different from any other newly-commissioned jack's arse, but the woman on his arm was obviously an old campaigner. The two could hardly be more different - or ill-suited.

"Cobb," he said to the other lieutenant, deciding not to trouble himself by offering his hand across the table. "Twenty-seventh."

His gaze slid away from the redcoated dandy - Lord strike him dead if the man's appearance and carriage didn't make Cobb liken him to Brummell - and passed thoughtfully over the woman seated next to him. Why was she familiar?

Jenny met his gaze with a smile. She remembered him from the night of the ridiculous charade in which Newbury had pretended to be capable of pushing a provost into the river. Perhaps the officer would not recognize her, though, in such a different context as this. "Mister Cobb," she said with an elegant nod.

Sharpe didn't particularly want to introduce himself to the newly-arrived Lieutenant, but it would be bad manners not to. "Lieutenant Sharpe, 95th Rifles," he said, wondering vaguely if he ought to offer his hand.

"Cobb. Sharpe." Woodmarsh nodded to each man as they introduced themselves. Both lieutenants, neither worth impressing. Especially not Sharpe. If he was a man of influence, he certainly did not look or act the part.

So far Blackwood was the only one who had spoken specifically to Jenny, and even that was simply a polite welcome, which was not at all what Woodmarsh had been anticipating. He had expected the officers to fawn over her, but it seemed as though none of them were very impressed. How disappointing.

It seemed that Cobb's initial impression was not far off the mark. He lounged back in his chair and glanced down the table toward Captain Blackwood. How had the man permitted such a boor to join their company this evening?

Beside Cobb, a red-faced captain polished his spectacles before slipping them back onto his crooked nose. He peered intently at the woman across the table. "Fine 'un you got with ye... er, Lieutenant." The captain gave a gravelly cough. "Brighter bit of sunshine than most others, I daresay."

It was all Cobb could do to pretend that the other women at the table were not glaring daggers in his general direction. He was not the one who'd spoken!

Finally. Someone who truly appreciated Jenny's beauty. Woodmarsh smiled at the man, oblivious to the fact that his jovial demeanor was clearly aided by drink.

"Thank you sir," he said, glancing at Jenny, "You are quite correct."

Jenny smiled towards the drunk old lecher. "Oh, you are too kind, captain," she said modestly, enjoying the women's glares.

Knox choked on his wine and hastily made an attempt to smother his cough behind a hand. Between Woodmarsh and the captain, the evening was off to a brilliant start. He almost felt sorry for the woman, Miss Ross as she was apparently called.

Jenny caught his eye. Was he trying to hide laughter? He might be a project for the evening and help her stave off boredom.

Good heavens, Blackwood thought with an internal sigh. He might have realised Captain Macgregor would be unable to contain himself. Wonderful. However, as host, it was his privilege to manage general conversation and what better time than now to do just that?

"We are all present now," he said, nodding to Hallet, who disappeared without a word. "Splendid. I should like to welcome a new gentleman to our midst. Mister Woodmarsh is newly come to the Coldstream, just within the past couple of days, in fact."

There was a light murmur from the other officers, largely in the way of greetings.

Woodmarsh sat up straight, trying to make himself look as prominent as possible. He was thoroughly enjoying being the center of attention. Thank goodness Blackwood was a sensible man and had enough decency to introduce him.

"Thank you, thank you," he said, as though he were acknowledging a cheering crowd rather than a small group of murmuring officers, "Yes, I have indeed recently joined the Coldstream, having arrived in Portugal not long ago. I would much rather have stayed in England, but alas duty calls and..."

He shrugged as he trailed off, not wanting to admit that he was only in Portugal because he had not been able to worm his way out of being sent off this time.

Jenny could barely control her disgust. Rather have stayed in England? What a thing for an officer to admit to a group of his peers and superiors. She smiled up at her idiot child. "And glory and honor," she prompted him. "And zeal for king and country."

"Oh yes, of course. But all that goes without saying, my dear." He smiled at her as though she had said something utterly foolish and he was merely humoring her. "Why else would we go to war?"

Jenny hoped that no one would answer the question, particularly Woodmarsh himself.

The idiot next to him was clearly oblivious to the nuances of what Woodmarsh had just said - his glib smile and nod gave that away plainly - but Cobb was not. He regarded the Guards lieutenant with a light frown. It wasn't hard to imagine what the man might've said had he finished his sentence.

"Indeed," Cobb said dryly. "Welcome to Portugal, Mister Woodmarsh."

And of course the wine-soaked fool at his elbow could not keep from offering his own remarks. "Quite so, quite so. No better cause!"

"Thank you, sir." Woodmarsh had missed Cobb's sarcasm, but he had not missed the other officer's enthusiasm, and he gave the man a grin. At least one of them was acting as though he was enjoying himself. The same could not be said for some of the others...

"Well said, captain," Jenny murmured to the sot, glancing at Knox before she took a sip of wine.

"How are you finding Portugal thus far, Lieutenant?" Blackwood asked, roundly ignoring both Macgregor's blithe exclamation and Cobb's flat sarcasm.

From her seat on the opposite side of the slovenly greenjacket - how were such men allowed even within sight of this regiment? - Margaret Tolliver gave a quick wave of her fan. The men's conversation did not interest her in the slightest.

"Tell me, Miss Ross," she said silkily. "Have you been with the army... long?"

"Tolerable, sir. The climate is pleasant, but I cannot say that the scenery is much to my liking. At least what I've seen thus far. Perhaps there are better views to be had elsewhere in the country."

Woodmarsh really had little interest in the scenery at all. In truth, he had little interest in the country itself either. But seeing as how he was going to be there for some time, he needed to find something to say about it, and discussing scenery was better than discussing the weather.

Jenny kept one throbbing ear open for Woodmarsh's conversation in case he should need her to come to his aid, even while she smiled at the lady beyond Lieutenant Sharpe. "Well, I took the King's shilling when I was seventeen. And what about you, Miss...?"

Macgregor offered a rasping chuckle. "It'll improve, my boy! Don't ye fear. When we cross back inta Spain, ye'll get all the fine views ye could ever want!"

Across the table, Margaret Tolliver barely succeeded in keeping from wrinkling her nose. "Missus Tolliver," she supplied primly. This tramp did not look much older than twenty - if that! "We have been with the regiment since the Year One."