The Great Ball Game, 5th July

Trueno's performance only fueled on Herrero's want to establish himself as the top horse there. He threw his head and thumped forward again. This time he kicked at an invisible foe from behind and made quite a sound. Willoughby knew that he could not risk his horse trying to engage the officer's so tried to check him again.

He managed to have the energy diverted with some elegance, and the horse instead made a rather sharp, if fast circle, settling so that he was facing Torrington and his steed again, but he was a few steps further away from them both.

"Have we not?" Willoughby was suddenly smiling with such brilliance that perhaps a lass would have considered herself fortunate had she been the reason for it. "...Sir.." He said, his accent, or lack there of showing. "...Should you wish to inspect my person, you are welcome to do so. But I can assure you that I carry with myself no such thing as the globe of matter that you seek from me." He finally lifted his hand and where the ball ought to have hid, he now revealed a scrunched up sabretache.

"Pardon." Herrero had heeded his training and order to give just a little bow, which was soon turned into another strut for dominance.

Edward had to exercise all his self-control to stop his jaws from a very unrefined drop. But now that he considered, he had never actually seen Willoughby holding the ball, only the bulge under the jacket.

Reining Trueno into parade position, something that the stallion allowed just to show that he was not only the better, but also the more professional horse, the engineer touched his head in a fighter's salute.

"Point conceeded. My compliments on your devious plan. But since the end of the game is clearly out of our hands now, we should perhaps ride back to camp now. It might have been a trifle careless to venture out that far."

Turning his horse on the spot, he waited for Willoughby to come up to him.

Willoughby smiled, surprised that he was permitted to ride alongside the officer, but also at the ease with which Torrington had taken his defeat.

He studied him again while he moved closer. He had watched him more thoroughly now and blinked for the features of the man had been more familiar than an occasional sighting in camp. He had nearly let it escape him too. "You are the geek.." Or some form of that, but luckily he had only blinked, if a bit stunned, gasped and then busied himself with Herrero to pull him alongside the other horse.

He straightened a little. "If there are the French, I will protect you, sir." He said with a slight bit less confidence, not in his ability but, more due to the realisation. "...Pardon ,...but you are Captain Torrington, ...or. wait .. the..Honorable Edward Walham?" He hesitated. "I have heard mention of a man in the Royal Engineers, by that name...all good things, of course, sir."

Edward, who had been puzzling over some rather hazy memory, furrowed his brow.

"Yes, I am indeed." Before he thought about it, he added the polite half-bow used in greeting peers. Then suddenly the slight hesitance, the slight awkwardness of the situation made something in his head click, pulled the veil from the memory of a long-ago moment in a study-room, when his easy and social brother introduced him to one of the younger boys. Edward himself had never found it easy to simply make the aquintance of other boys, but his brother had had that gift and quite often had taken new boys around, introducing them to all his numerous friends and trying to make them comfortable. Usually this had included an introduction to his slightly awkward younger brother, more often than not found with his nose in some books.

"Forgive me, but ... have we met before?" He asked carefully. For if what he seemed to recall was true, then not only had this young man been a pupil of one of the most prestigious public schools in England, there also had been a title to his name.

Willoughby remained silent. The unruly chase for the ball had turned into a meeting of old acquaintances and he had perhaps triggered recognition by wishing his own belief confirmed. It was indeed quite his own fault if this man had begun to suspect there was more.

He steadied Herrero, glad for a little distraction in the form of his horse appearing willing to present himself with all his importance and 'glory'. The smack of his tail on the hind legs of Trueno did not go unnoticed.

"Sir, the longer we remain here, the greater the chance that the French might attempt to collect us. " he said hesitantly. He remembered it more clearly now. The young man who had been most known for the amount of time he had spent with his books. The one to whom books had almost become sweethearts and lovers and if it had not been for his elder brother, perhaps more teasing would ensue.

Torrington's older brother had warned him to be polite right before he had entered and introduced them. He was friendly, rather energetic, knew so many boys at the school, had been in the centre of it, while his younger brother, Edward Torrington, remained more in company of books than of people. This however made him a good student, smart, and quite able to help when a problem in the study field appeared.

Trueno snorted and bunched his muscles, but Edward forced him to sidestep, so that he could only stretch his neck and make a sound of protest. At least he was allowed to move now, and even go at a rather brisk pace.

While he set them on the track back to camp again, Edward politely nodded, his eyelids nearly hiding a curious and a bit mischievous twinkle.

"You are right, of course. It would not do to have the French join in this game as well."

Because most times he was a rather careful person, he checked the pistols in their place at the saddleholsters. While doing so, concentrated on checking they were properly loaded, he asked carelessly:

"I see you have followed Old Furbisher's advice and found an occupation that required no knowlege of Latin?"

Hidden by a fringe of hair, sharp eyes watched closely for Willoughby's reaction.

"I had not been that bad..."He paused." That is not true what you say of the use of it, Latin is..." Willoughby began and then after a hesitant moment continued. " .. quite useful in the deciphering of the language...much better in fact than the lack of knowledge thereof." He glanced at Torrington. To lie to him, would not have been gentlemanly nor would it bring naught but failure. The man may have appeared as if he was just fishing for information and was far from convinced that he knew who Willoughby was, but that felt more an act than truth.

"..French helps too." He said simply. "Albeit, the languages are different from each other." He allowed Torrington to have the ball in field again. Would he be more forward with his next sentence?

"Yes, indeed it can be quite helpful in these parts ..."

Edward guided his horse around a set of bolders. The stallion was still restive and eager to show off against the other horse. Edward has paced him well during the chase - perhaps a bit too well, he thought wrily as the huge beast tried to use a moment where he wasn't paying full attention to him to edge closer to the other horse again. But it was comforting to know that he had still enough strength left should they indeed encounter French.

Now quite convinced that he indeed had identified Willoughby - or rather the right honourable Viscount Gwydyr, heir to the earldom of Parham - correctly, he decided to stop beating around the bush. Dropping all pretence, he asked bluntly:

"Forgive me for asking, but ... is there a reason why you are masquerading as a simple trooper, or is it just a lark?"

Herrero was kept on a short 'leash'. He too had wanted to goad the other horse, but at the moment it seemed his master was quite against such behavour. When unable though, Herrero decided to strut himself in a manner that appeared as if he was just about to perform in a dressage.

Willoughby remained silent for a few moments then slowed his horse slightly. "Do you not know?" He gazed at Torrington. "...I thought that you would have atleast heard of it." He murmured and dropped his gaze to Herrero again, but only to see that the horse had not slipped over a log, concentrating so much on showing off the other horse.

Edward frowned. He was not the best informed about society's latest scandals, but he was quite sure he would have heard if the earldom was so rolled up that it could no longer affort a commission for one of their own. Then he remembered that his father had once inquired of him whether he knew where Gwydyr was, and with his usual deceptive mildness asked him to give the Viscount his father's best wishes, should he ever encounter him.
His father of course knew the old earl ... if his grandson had gone missing, he certainly would not want a scandal created, but would probably make more discreet inquiries. And a small rumour would probably have slipped past Edward unnoticed anyway.

"Forgive me. I must seem terribly dense, but ... are you by any chance run away from home, so to speak?"

"...So to speak." Willoughby smiled, keeping Herrero at a walking pace now, and his gaze at their surroundings so that he could spot a Frenchman, should one appear.

"Though, I assure you, it is not due to a scandal, nor had I attempted to elope. Amusing as that could have been...you may be at ease to know it is neither. Nor does a lady of the 15th Hussars carry a child of mine,.." He paused and chuckled. "Or a man remain at home that would have my head in a duel for a reason one does not speak of in polite society. No,.. it is none of those. " He glanced again to their left, then right then ahead of them assuring himself that there were also no Riflemen charging at them for the sake of their ball.

"Oh, not an elopment, that certainly reliefs my mind greatly!", Edward replied gravely, although the twinkle in his eyes was now quite open. "It would have been quite beyond my poor skills to tell you in an agreeable manner that Gretna Green is in quite the other direction."

Edward mustered the uniform and horse, then rose an inquiring eyebrow. He had no wish to pry into personal matters the other might wish to keep secret, but he still could divine no reason why the other was a common soldier, not even a volounteer. If the other did not wish to divulge this, however, he might as well ignore the question. Suddenly he realized something else and said carefully:

"I do not know whether you had any news since I arrived here, but when I left England, your esteemed grandfather, the earl, was quite well."

"I have been unable to hear from him and I could not inquire..." Willoughby admitted but was glad to hear that his grandfather fared well and that he had taken his disappearance with all the propriety he could master. He knew his grandfather would have wished to keep all swept under a rug, but not knowing how he was had weighed on Willoughby's mind too. He had not been able to ask, for an inquiry of the kind could have been suspicious at the least, confusing at best.

"Could I ask of you a favour I have no right in asking, for should you agree, it would in ways involve you in matters which I have caused myself?" He spoke softly, then added a more proper. "Sir." To his words.

He had enjoyed what company he had had with Edward, when they had been younger, and he knew he had benefited from his knowledge and learning from books.

Edward frowned slightly at the 'sir' and inquired hesitantly:

"Are you asking me as a soldier to an officer or as a friend of my late brothers to ... well, me?"

It was perhaps not the best way to put it, but he needed to know on what ground he was agreeing, for if he did, he would feel honour bound to fullfill whatever it was. And while he certainly would do what was in his powers for a friend, he would not compromise his profession by lightly giving out promises.

"I am...asking you as a friend of your..." He paused and arched a brow. "What do you mean, your late brother's? ..." It downed on him that Edward had taken the title, and as a younger brother that would not have been as likely unless something drastic had happened that caused it.

He had slowed his horse a bit and hoped the officer would do the same. The distance was still great enough that their conversation could go on uninterrupted, but still. He glanced towards the direction of camp again. No riflemen out for his blood. Good.

Edward looked quite sad for a moment.

"My brother passed away five years ago."

"...Oh..." Willoughby grew quiet. He leaned over to pat Herrero's neck gently. "..my condolences." He spoke, his voice carrying emotion as well, sad, for he had found the man pleasant company, friendly, helpful and welcoming. He may have been a friend of many, but that did not diminish the friendship he offered.

"He was a fine man." He murmured. He did not dare ask how it happened for it could bring bad memories and he really did not want to cause additional hurt to this brother.

Edward was silent, although he acknowleged the condolences with a grateful nod. His brother had indeed been a fine man, and his death of a child's disease had been so unexpected ...

He shook his head, quite firmly putting those sad memories out of his mind.

"Thank you. He was indeed."

Quite obviously changing the topic, he asked:

"Now tell me how I might assist you."

Willoughby shifted in his saddle. Lifted up a bit adjusted his position and sat back down, comfortably. He accepted the change though it was harder to form the words for his request. "...If you write home..although I doubt that you would, may you avoid mention of meeting me. Even if my grandfather may have inquired about it... until more time passes, I do not wish to have him worry too much."

He straightened his sabretache, so that it hung loosely over one side. "But...could you inform me, if you hear of him..." He was then silent for a few longer moments. "I can tell you why I am here in such position...but I ask that you do not speak of it to others. I'll trust you, as I would have trusted your brother."

Edward's eyebrows rose, but he replied readily:

"If you wish so, then I shall certainly say nothing, unless I'm directly asked - which is unlikely. But don't you think that your grandfather might perhaps worry less if he knew where you are?"

He thought for a moment.

"I can certainly ask my sister Thine to supply us with some news about Society back home. As she has tried to interest me in it for years, she will be quite happy to supply them, and will not wonder that we want some share of it out here. She will certainly mention your grandfather as well, should any news occure."

"If he knew that I was here, he would do all in his power that I would discontinue to ride in the lines of Hussars. You know him. I will to speak no ill of him, but he was a general of the army. His opinion of the hussars, the cavalry, was particularly unflattering." He shook his head lightly.

"While his interruption would not prevent me from riding..." He motioned towards the horse that Edward was riding as an indication that even if in the uniform of the army, as an officer, he would not miss the comfort of a horse: "...This life..would be over."

He smiled sheepishly. "I am not certain I am ready yet.. to abandon it." He tilted his head. "But I would be delighted should your sister aid us in keeping us in on what goes on..."

"I see ... Well, I can understand that it would be a trifle awkward to purchase a commission under these circumstances."

Edward looked speculatively at the other man.

"Forgive my indelicacy, but is it only your grandfather's position that has kept you from doing so? For I feel that he might look more favourable on your chosen occupation if ... to but it bluntly, if he needn't blush for it."

He said the last with a small smile, asking Willoughby's pardon for pointing out the undeniable fact that Willoughby's current position would create a scandal if it became known.

"As you have been away for quite a long time now, he might greatly prefer to read about your commission to presuming you dead."

"It is my grandfather's position and opinion of the 'lot' that has held me from being more known than a mere trooper in the service. " Willoughby answered mulling over Torrington's words. He has grown more used to the life that he lead now. In ways it was still easier than that of a common soldier, who needed to march, in ways it had been harder, for dealing with a horse before he could rest, had been an additional responsibility, taken on be it rain or hail, hot sun or a freezing cold evening. He had no batman do to his tea or bidding, and his kit did not clean itself.

He considered this for longer. It was of course the matter of finances as well. A commission was expensive. Since the parting from his troop where even the finances he had collected in the service were lost, he was somewhat short on money.

Very gently, Edward said:

"Now that you are here, there is hardly anything he can do, even if he knows ... you are of age, and he won't disinherit you. And I do not think he would care to hear that you died or even got wounded as a trooper ... nor be never informed of the fact at all."

Willoughby had not been convinced that his grandfather, should he learn of this, would not attempt to influence the course of his career. Of course it would have been in his best interests, it was not that the man was meaning to cause the end of it, or embarrassment. Yet, he had his opinion and his mind made up and his grandchild would be hard pressed to change that.

"What are you proposing?" He asked.