30th May, evening in camp

Fortunately for Knox, he was not drinking anything when Jenny answered; however he could not quite suppress a sharp, quizzical glance in the Ross woman's direction. He looked from her to Tolliver's wife and back. Oh sweet Christ...

"Such a long time! My!" Perhaps it had been reckless, but Jenny could not help enjoying the other woman's reaction. As she turned her attentions back to her food, there was a slight twinkle in her eye. Poor awkward Mister Sharpe, stuck between them. She must not allow him to lack for entertainment.

Thank God. Here was Hallet and two messmen, all bearing trays. Blackwood watched with relief as the trio made short work of laying out the meal on the table. His batman's timing was providential indeed.

"Now," the captain said, some of his humour returning. "I do not much care for the landscape myself, Lieutenant. There is no character in it!"

There was a rumble of laughter from around the table. Hallet and his two assistants withdrew to the sidelines again, which prompted Blackwood to nod slightly. "Indeed. May I suggest we discover if my man's culinary skills have improved any since Denmark?"

Well. Margaret sniffed imperiously and paid the roughly-dressed girl no further mind. Not that this was difficult. Captain Blackwood's servant was finally bringing in the meal.

The food, whatever it was, smelled wonderful. Certainly a reprieve from the muck his own mess was known to serve. Cobb peered hungrily at the steaming dish and decided he didn't much care what it was. It was sure to be filling and, better, edible!

"I say," Macgregor remarked, shoving his crooked nose toward the nearest platter. "Smells damn prime, Blackwood! Ha ha. A credit to ye Light Company men, no doubt!"

Some of Cobb's eagerness to claim the entire tray for himself faded. He glanced sidelong at the florid-faced captain and sighed. "Mister Woodmarsh," he said, restraining himself from knocking Macgregor's fat hand away from the food. "Are you very fond of sport, by chance? I am given to understand that this is tolerate country for hunting."

A little further down the table, Lieutenant Graham perked up. "Hunting, you say? Best thing to do on a march, indeed. When there is no fighting to be had!"

"No indeed, sir," Woodmarsh said to Blackwood, "I am glad you are of a similar opinion on the land." At least they agreed on something, even something as trivial as the blandness of the landscape.

Turning to Cobb, he exclaimed, "Found of sport? By God, I should say so, Mister Cobb! I would love to have an opportunity to hunt. Decent game would be something to recommend this country. So far I have seen little else to do so."

He glanced down at the food in front of him. It look and smelled appetizing; he could only hope it tasted likewise.

"A hunt? How exhilarating. Do the ladies ride with you?" she asked recklessly. Jenny herself had never participated in any sort of hunting at all, but it amused her to picture dumpy old Mrs. Tolliver doing so.

Blackwood smiled to himself. Leave it to Lieutenant Graham to latch onto hunting as topic for conversation, but it was a suitable distraction. He sipped his wine and studied the faces around the table.

"Just so," Graham said happily. "It can be dreadfully boring in camp. A man must often make his own amusements. Hunting suits this best!"

"Certainly a respectable sport for a gentleman," Olivia Graham responded. She took a dainty sip of wine and smiled at her husband.

"Far better than some of the amusements men might find to occupy their time. Wouldn't you say, Miss Ross?" Her tone remained sickeningly sweet, but the quirk of her lips and raised eyebrows as she turned to face the other woman left little room for doubt that Jenny was meant to be one of those amusements.

"Certainly," Jenny replied, raising her glass to the other woman. "I know quite well that men need diversions."

"Indeed, indeed," Macgregor said in his thick voice. "Diversions from the work of war. Keeps a man sharp! Ha ha, wouldn't ye agree, Sharpe?"

"Quite," Olivia responded to Jenny's barb icily. She turned and chuckled politely at the drunken Macgregor's attempt at humour. Internally, she rolled her eyes. Really. Puns.

"Do you hunt, Mister Sharpe?" she asked, her tone returning to its previous deceptive sweetness. "I know Julian was recently saying that he would welcome new companions for it. You and Mister Woodmarsh certainly should join him when you are at your leisure."

Jenny eyed "Julian" and hid a smile behind her glass of wine. Welcome indeed!

Cobb helped himself to some stew before looking up across the table. Poor Sharpe, he thought passingly. Really unfair to be assailed on all sides by this lot.

"Oh Mister Sharpe hunts," Cobb said lazily. "But not as most others do. He hunts Frenchmen, in point of fact. I hear he is quite capable in his trade."

His gaze travelled briefly to Woodmarsh. That overstuffed poppinjay. "Have you seen much action, sir? That is... certainly in your quest for honour and glory, you have met with the enemy."

"Oh certainly," Macgregor cut in, some ways behind in the conversation. "A good hunt is a capital thing. Nothing finer! Indeed ye must join us some time, sir!"

It was unclear, however, who he was addressing.

Hm.

"Quite," Blackwood offered. "Mister Sharpe has indeed proven his worth in battle. I am rather indebted to him, to be sure. He dealt soundly with some French cavalry just this night past. Helped save the company's flank from being turned, perhaps, I shouldn't wonder."

Jenny glanced over at the shabby, awkward lieutenant at her side and gave him a little smile, probably her first moment of sincerity since the evening had begun. "Well done, sir." After all, she had a touch of fondness for the rifles.

Woodmarsh eyed Cobb, debating how to word his answer. He had seen very little action in reality, being as he was always striving to avoid it. But he did not want to let all of these distinguished officers know that.

"I have seen my fair share, of course," he said, nodding sagely as though he had fought in hundreds of battles, "One can only meet the enemy so long before growing weary of it."

"How inconvenient for you that Bonaparte does not share your sentiments," remarked Knox flatly, speaking for the first time since his introduction.

"Boney has inconvenienced the world with his delusions of grandeur. I could give a damn what he thinks. I wouldn't share a bloody thing with him, not even his sentiments."

Jenny suppressed a little sigh and gazed at Knox. The man would have to strike harder to break through Woodmarsh's thick skull. And she hoped that he would. Someone ought to. Woodmarsh was an idiot. Jenny herself would have made a better lieutenant. Mrs. Tolliver would have made a better lieutenant.

"He's certainly inconvenienced me," she said, almost without caring where the conversation led. "I just wish I could fight him."

Olivia found herself staring at Lieutenant Woodmarsh with contemptuous amazement. Even she could tell that he was entirely without a clue as to what he was saying. His companion had more sense. She suppressed a small laugh and glanced quickly down, then looked back up as Jenny spoke again.

"He would undoubtedly find you a fearsome adversary," she said, amused in spite of herself. Then added, with a wry smile, "I myself would be willing to give Napoleon a piece of my mind for the inconvenience of the war."

Jenny inclined her head. "Perhaps we should try it some afternoon, when our gentlemen are enjoying their hunt."

Now she could not help herself - Olivia laughed outright. "Indeed we should. Perhaps we could have the war finished once and for all!"

Despite himself, Knox felt the corners of his mouth twitch. He could almost pity Bonaparte should such a circumstance ever arise. It was dangerous enough being at the same table with the two women.

Jenny simply smiled and returned to her food. She did not expect to make friends with any of the ladies present, but any ally against the stupidity of Woodmarsh was welcome.

A smile threatened to turn the corners of Cobb's mouth upward. He could easily imagine the officers' wives marching on Paris to lay siege. To cover this hint of a smile, he reached for his wine glass.

"Oh I don't know," the lieutenant replied, finding it wiser for the moment to reply to that fool Woodmarsh. "It was rather a new experience each time we met the enemy in Egypt."

Lieutenant Graham offered a chuckle. "You would have found the Danes wearisome, Woodmarsh! Hardly a scrap of backbone in any of 'em! Could've marched straight to Copenhagen with no more'n a company, as it turned out."

A wine-thickened laugh rumbled up from Captain Macgregor's throat. "I should find it dreadfully dull to return to Scotland when this business is over!"

On the other side of the scruffy Rifles officer, Margaret Tolliver forced a smile. Men!