Page 25 of A Lady's Heart Deceived
“Too busy renovating the lavish toy palace his papa gave him for his heroic stupidity at Waterloo,” huffed Jonathan.
King Willem I had gifted his son Soestdijk Palace in recognition of his efforts during the battle at Waterloo. And it was rumored that the prince was spending a fortune on expanding and upgrading the main building, adding two more wings to the already impressive structure.
Piers didn’t want to get into a discussion about the role the Prince of Orange had played in both the skirmish at Quatre Bras and the bloody battle at Waterloo. Many people in Britain had labelled him a rash fool, and at the age of twenty-two, far too young to be in command. But the young prince Piers had witnessed during the campaign was anything but hot-headed. He was brave and fearless. A fool he was not.
None of this helped with Piers’s personal situation. The Prince of Orange was back in Europe, while Piers was stuck serving under the command of a man who would love to see him hauled before a military court and destroyed. Jonathan might well be frustrated, but he had no idea what it was like for Piers to endure the taunts of his nemesis every day.
“I’m worried about you, dear brother. What are you going to do if they decide to press charges against you?” Jonathan asked.
I dread to think.“They haven’t done anything until now. At times, I wonder if they have any real evidence. It will be my word against that of Major Hall. He is a cunning bastard, which is probably why he is more than content to have me working through mounds of paperwork.”
He didn’t want to make mention of the rest of the mistreatment he suffered on an almost daily basis. His family shouldn’t have to bear the burden of his troubles.
“What about the Prince Regent? Have you tried to approach him?” suggested Jonathan.
“Yes, but I didn’t have much success. I couldn’t get an audience. And now, with the death of Princess Charlotte, he is not likely to be answering any correspondence or seeing anyone for the foreseeable future. Poor Prinny. No one deserves to bury their child.”
“No, it’s a terrible business. He must feel so hopeless.”
Piers took another long drink of his brandy. He understood only too well what it was to feel a lack of hope. Part of his reason for wanting to come to Coventry and help Maggie was that it gave him a sense of purpose. He might not be able to move on with his own life, but if he could help her, it would be something.
Where there is life, there is hope.
“Who else can you write to? There must be someone. You are the son of a viscount—not some private from the slums of St. Giles. I refuse to let you give up on getting justice,” pressed Jonathan.
His brother was right. And it was good to hear someone speak in his defense. But none of this mess was as simple as others seemed to think. There were delicate layers to it. If one of them was disturbed, it could easily destroy not only Piers’s chances of getting out of the army, but also his family’s name. This never-ending purgatory was slowly but surely killing him.
“I understand your frustration. I have written a number of letters recently, seeking out support from other quarters, but they have either chosen not to reply or the response has been a guardedno,” replied Piers.
The Denford family wasn’t without friends or influence. Piers did, however, get a distinct impression that within theton, people not only didn’t want to get involved, but they were also doing their utmost to ensure their names were not connected in any way with his current situation. The mere sniff of a scandal had sent people scurrying away.
“And of course, you won’t let Father get involved,” said Jonathan.
Piers didn’t reply. If they started in on this particular topic, there was every chance that he and Maggie would soon be decamping to the nearest hotel. It was better if he simply held his tongue. This was his fight—not his father’s or Jonathan’s.
His brother got to his feet and came around to the front of his desk. Piers rose. Jonathan took the glass from his hand and placed it on the desk. Then the two of them embraced—a reassuring, brotherly hug. When they finally broke apart, both were wiping tears away.
“I miss you,” said Piers.
Jonathan nodded. “Same here, Piers. You have no idea. I just wish this whole army business was over and done with.”
Piers gave a resigned sigh. “Some of it is my own fault. I foolishly assumed that I would receive swift justice over the accusations of that report from the battle. I was naïve. I kept writing to the Prince of Orange and when he didn’t reply, I let the British Army bury me under a mountain of paperwork. I know I have to try another way to get this matter resolved. It’s part of the reason why I wanted to come north. I need time to get my thoughts straight. To put a new strategy together. When I return to town, I’m going to ask to see both the Secretary at War and the Duke of Wellington.”
Jonathan threw up his hands. “Finally. It’s only taken you two years to give up your stubborn resistance and actually seek help from a higher authority.”
That wasn’t exactly true. Piers had tried a number of avenues, none of which had been successful. To his dismay, he had discovered that Major Hall also had friends in high places. Ones who shared his suspicions about anyone who had served with the Prince of Orange.
“You know I don’t like having to ask for help. It’s not in my nature.”
“Yes, but you are more than willing to put yourself in harm’s way, or at least significant inconvenience, to come to the aid of others. I am certain that this trip to Coventry wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t trying to rescue a damsel in distress,” replied Jonathan.
He let that remark go. Jonathan had every right to vent his frustration.
“Speaking of damsels, have you heard from Lady Dinah?” Jonathan asked.
It was a subtle but no less painful change in subject. Jonathan was always one for dealing with problems head on. His success in business reflected his pragmatic disposition.
Piers slowly shook his head, his gaze dropping to the floor. “No, we agreed to let things fall silent for the time being. Though I expect she will wish to make things official after Christmas. I can’t blame her.”
