New to the District

She curtseyed. "Then you may know my brother, sir. Although, perhaps not - he is only a Captain. I am Miss Emma Vickery, daughter of the Viscount Saltash, sir. I am sister to Captain Vickery, of the 60th Rifles."

General Wellsley? She looked at him with more interest. So this was the Commander of the British Army, the man her brother held in such awe.

Somewhat belatedly, Edward managed to drag his wits into order and saluted.

"Captain Torrington, Sir, currently attached to the second division."

What for heaven's sake was the general doing here? Not that he minded meeting him, but ... Did this mean that the army was missing their Commander-in-Chief at the moment? The shock even managed to drive his irritation at their other newcomer from his mind.

"I have met your brother, Miss Vickery," Sir Arthur said, recalling the Rifles officer and noting the similarity with his sister. "A competent young man, if I might say so."

He turned as Torrington introduced himself, frowning slightly at the name.

"Torrington, Torrington... I recall that name in connection with Gloucestershire."

"I... thank you, sir," Emma said, giving another small curtsey. John would be so proud to know that General Wellesley thought of him so - he did not seem at all the sort of man to give out praise lightly.

Samuel had been rather startled by the sharpness of Emma's reply to his introduction. In his experience, introducing himself as the son of viscount was usually enough to get ladies fawning over him. The fact that Miss Vickery had not suddenly made her rather intriguing.

But before he could reply, another person had entered the room, who turned out to be none other than Sir Arthur Wellesley himself. That was even more shocking than Torrington's statement about being in Portugal. What kind of place was this, with generals appearing seemingly out of thin air?

"My word, it is truly an honour, sir," he said to Wellesley, bowing low, "I am Samuel Woodmarsh. My father is the Viscount Woodmarsh and my brother Gareth is a lieutenant in the 2nd Foot Guards."

"My family's main estate is there, Sir. I believe you have met my father, the Earl of Gleve, while you served as Chief Secretary for Ireland. He was part of the committee to analyse the implications of your proposed Irish insurrection bill."

His father had also spoken in defence of Wellesly when he had been censored for retaining his office while away on active duty, and was also a long-time acquaintance of the Duke of Richmond, but of course Edward wouldn't mention that. If the general choose to remember a political ally, it was good, but if he preferred not to acknowledge the complicated relationships that often bound politicians, Edward wouldn't regret it.

He might not even have said as much as he had, had not Mr. Woodmarsh's behaviour nettled his temper. He tried to recall whether he had made the acquaintance of the brother yet, but although he believed that Captain Blackwood had mentioned him, he couldn't come up with a face. Ignoring the smartly dressed man as best as he could, without being openly impolite, he bowed slightly to Emma and informed the general:

"The music you heard, Sir, was Miss Vickery's excellent playing."

"He flatters me. It was hardly excellent," she demurred, blushing. "That it was no worse than it was is solely due to the fact I practise every day."

Of the three gentlemen now present, she liked Torrington, who seemed so serious at first and yet was willing to joke, and tease - very like John, in some ways.

Mr Woodmarsh seemed self-important, as though he had expected Emma to be all over him simply because of his father's title.

And the General... She looked at him, trying to fathom him out without staring. He was very young for a General; she would guess that he was in his late thirties. He seemed somewhat distant, although it could simply be that he was preoccupied, a state of mind that Emma could understand because of his position. Of all of them, he seemed the least thrown by their current surroundings, which intrigued her.

"Shall we sit?" she asked, aware that no gentleman would sit unless she were seated herself. "I can ring for tea, if you should like some," she added, addressing the General, who was probably the most senior man present. At least, according to rank; Captain my Lord Torrington was higher socially. Of course, it would not be politic to point that out, and it was probably better to base precedence on the General's rank - if he preferred to go by social rank, that was his prerogative, of course.

Edward held a chair for her, then went to the bell-pull, ready to call a servant, should she wish it. He would remain standing until the general should agree to sit down. Even if he might have a higher title, in his mind there was no question who had by rank, age and standing precedence. So he kept his gaze politely on the older man, ready to react to whatever he decided.

Out of the corner of his eye, the captain watched Woodmarsh, though. The only trump he had to stand between this ... Beau and Miss Vickery was her brother's acquaintance, of course, but as long as the lady didn't indicate that she did not wish for him to squire her here, he would do it to the best of his abilities. A bit silly perhaps, yes, he knew, but ... Well, but.

She smiled at Torrington and gave a slight nod for him to ring the bell. She far preferred Torrington to this Mr Woodmarsh, who probably had not an ounce of sense and who had certainly no musical taste... or very little taste of any sort, probably.

She sat still until the servant came in. "Would you bring some more water for tea, and two more cups, please?"

The tea caddy was still on the table, after all, as were her and Captain Torrington's cups.

Though he would have liked to seat himself and talk with Miss Vickery, Samuel knew better than to do so when neither of the other gentlemen--both of whom had precedence over him--had sat down. So he stayed where he was, assuming a nonchalant, patient expression as he waited. The servant had come and gone, so it not be long before the tea was served, at any rate. Then, he hoped, he would be able to strike up a decent conversation with Miss Vickery. Provided the other two did not end up monopolizing her attention.

At the mention of the Earl of Gleve Sir Arthur had felt a pleasant spark of recognition - and privately had a mild admiration for the young man's modesty in not introducing himself as Lord Torrington. Of course Wellesley did not know Gleve that well personally, but the Earl had supported him on occasion in the House, and they also had a friend in common with the Duke of Richmond.

The general's desire to speak further on the subject was however momentarily thwarted with Woodmarsh's eager introduction of himself. Sir Arthur looked at the young man coolly, inwardly cringing at the foppishly low bow he was presented with. He did not receive the feeling that Woodmarsh was a wholly sensible fellow, though they had been in the same room but a few minutes; he could yet be proved wrong.

"I have not had the honour to meet the viscount," Wellesley said. He could not even bring to mind which Party the name of Woodmarsh was allied with. "Nor have I made the acquaintance of Lieutenant Woodmarsh."

Which was civil enough, without being impolite. Tea was called, and seeing Torrington hesitate despite Miss Vickery's invitation, Wellesley took it upon himself to be the first gentleman to sit, taking Lord Torrington's lead of apparently favouring army rank over social rank; to do otherwise would be to embarrass the young man. It did however present an advantage; in being first to sit he took the prerogatives of age and superiority to seat himself beside Miss Vickery on the settee.

"I would not say that Captain Torrington exaggerates by much, Miss Vickery," he said, sitting back comfortably at the opposite end of the settee. "Natural ability is only ever improved upon by practice. You are quite the accomplished musician."

She made room for the General as he crossed the room to sit on the sofa. Having three such charming gentlemen - well, two charming men and a third who thought too much of himself to be charming although he doubtless considered himself to be so - paying court to her was a circumstance she found she rather enjoyed, although she was determined not to let it go to her head, as some of her acquaintances would.

The tea arrived and she busied herself for a moment, pouring a cup for each of the men, and one for herself. "I do hope it is to your liking, sir," she said as she offered a cup to the General. She knew how Captain Torrington liked his tea by now, and offered him the second cup, before pouring one for Woodmarsh.

"I suppose you do not hear much music in Portugal," she said, picking up her own cup. "Or rather, John has never told me that he has attended any concerts or the like. I suppose that it must be very difficult for a Captain though; especially on detached service."

Samuel was not surprised that the general did not know of his brother; he had only mentioned Gareth to prove that he himself had a connection to the army. However, he was surprised to learn that Wellesley had not yet met his father. In his experience, his father had always tried to make the acquaintance of anyone of even remote social importance, so Samuel would have thought it only natural for his father to have sought to meet Wellesley.

But seeing as that was clearly not that case, it meant that Samuel was now the first of the Woodmarsh clan to make the general's acquaintance, a fact which he found to be terribly pleasing. Yet even so, he was not foolish enough to voice such a sentiment to Wellesley, and so he merely nodded in response and said nothing further on that subject.

Likewise he made no comment when he saw Wellesley take the opportunity to seat himself next to Miss Vickery. Despite his annoyance at being now unable to sit beside her himself, Samuel kept silent towards the general.

However, he did not keep silent when Miss Vickery offered him tea.

"Why thank you, Miss Vickery," he said, smiling broadly at her as he took the cup, giving her a lingering glance before reluctantly seating himself in a nearby chair.

"I'm sure it will be, Miss Vickery," Wellington said as he accepted the cup, though privately he already knew it would not be, as he had seen her automatically add a lump of sugar. He could not blame her though; she was used to the ways of the salon and doubtless serving tea for her mother and other ladies; tea without sugar was likely a foreign concept to her. It had only been the one lump of sugar, though, so it would still be perfectly drinkable.

"We are quite sadly starved of good music, yes," he said, ignoring Woodmarsh's lingering stare at Miss Vickery as she had the grace to do so, for all it was bordering on impertinence. "There are the regimental bands, of course, but a true concert is hard to organize when you are miles from the nearest civilization and in hot pursuit of the enemy. Balls too are few and far between, though we try to arrange a rout or two whenever we come to halt in a sizable town. We are inevitably short of ladies however, and my officers must often resort to dancing with each other. Indeed, any lady in attendance is certain to be quite footsore by the end of the evening."

Emma tried to imagine John dancing with another man, and failed utterly. Of course, whenever she had seen him dance, there had always been plenty of ladies for him to ask to dance and so the question of dancing with another man had never arisen. Of course, etiquette applied in reverse: if there were not enough men to go around, two women could stand up together, at a private ball. Emma's status had meant that she had never needed to do that herself, of course.

"What about the local ladies?" she asked. "Surely they would attend such a rout?"

"They and the few officers' wives which have accompanied their husbands," Wellesley agreed. He took a sip of tea and succeeded in not grimacing. "Yet even combining forces they are greatly outnumbered - for if we invite the ladies of the town, we must invariably ask the gentlemen."

"I must confess I had not thought of that," Emma replied gravely, although her eyes twinkled over the rim of her teacup as she sipped her tea. "So, there is no danger of my brother returning home a married man? Mama will be pleased to know that."

Wellesley reflected briefly on damn fool officers who sometimes took leave of their senses and married highly unsuitable women, but decided that such a subject was not for the ears of a young lady.

"I should reassure the Viscountess that the risk of such an occurrance is acceptably low," he said, returning her smile.

"I should think my brother would prefer to return home with a wife than have Mama try to matchmake for him," Emma replied dryly. "Are you maried, sir?" she asked, and wondered why on earth she had asked that - it really was not the sort of question she would ever consider asking, and added hastily, "I beg your pardon, I do not mean to pry."

Wellesley felt his heart sink at the topic of his wife being brought into the conversation. Did Miss Vickery truly not know? But then, he supposed, she did not look old enough to have been in Society long, and why should the Vickerys be concerned with his state of affairs? He himself had been absent from Society for a long time, and his brothers would merit more attention than he.

"Not at all," he replied, though his voice did perhaps betray his lack of enthusiasm discussing his own domestic matters. "Lady Wellesley and I have been married these three years. We have two sons; I believe she summers with them at Tunbridge Wells."

That was hopefully enough to satisfy curiosity. It was no more than anyone else knew of his life at home.

She smiled apologetically at him, lowering her cup. "I apologise, sir." It was obviously a sensitive subject. She cast around for a less painful topic of conversation. "I take it that you are fond of music?" she asked, recalling that it had been overhearing her playing that had brought the General into the room in the first place.

"I find it hard to name anyone who is not," Wellesley said, very much aware that the younger gentlemen might be thinking him something of a bore for taking up so much of Miss Vickery's attention. "Be it one form of music or another."

"I am sure I could name one or two people who are completely tone-deaf," Emma remarked. "There are people who cannot dance, either, although they think they can."

(OOC: Sorry, running out of ideas)

Edward smiled faintly and sipped his tea. He didn't mind that the general was talking to Miss Vickery. It gave him a chance to study the man. But now he probably should join in again, and possibly do something to draw Woodmarsh into the conversation as well. Setting his cup and saucer back on the armrest of his chair, he said:

"You must allow, though, that for us poor males that might sometimes be only a healthy measure of self-preservance. While it is perfectly acceptable for a man never to open his mouth for singing, and usually more than adequate simply to praise whatever somebody else is playing, it is next to impossible to avoid dancing, even if you can't do it properly, and to admit so would only earn you ridicule, some kind attempts to teach you and a general reputation of not applying himself to the required degree."

As Torrington spoke, Samuel cocked an eyebrow slightly as he peered at him over the rim of his teacup. It sounded as though the poor fellow was not really one for dancing. What a pity. Samuel himself quite enjoyed dancing, and was of the opinion that he was perfectly adept at it. Torrington clearly did not feel the same.

"Yes, you are quite right, Captain Torrington," he said, lowering the teacup, "Yet while I agree that it is hard to avoid dancing, I do not share your seeming dislike for it. Though I do understand that it can be quite unbearable if one has not the talent for it. However, I have always found that the enjoyment of dancing does not entirely depend on one's skill. Having a lovely dancing partner generally improves the experience greatly, and that can also help to distract from any lack of coordination you yourself may have."

He was tempted to glance at Miss Vickery while saying so, but he refrained and instead offered Torrington a somewhat sympathetic smile for his apparent dancing inadequacy.