Doctor Who_ World Game - Doctor Who_ World Game Part 34
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Doctor Who_ World Game Part 34

'That must be the Prince of Orange, son of the king of the Netherlands. He's second-in-command of the Army, under the Duke.'

'Why? He's only a boy.'

'Because he's the Prince of Orange.'

'What about all the others?'

'Oh they're nobody,' said the Doctor. 'Dukes and earls and ambassadors and so on. The only one who really counts in Brussels at the moment is the Duke.'

'What makes you so sure he isn't here? In a crush like this...'

'Believe me, when he's here, you'll know it.'

A few minutes later, Serena realised the truth of his words.

A little party of senior officers in elaborate dress uniforms entered the ballroom. At the centre of them was a well-set-up middle-aged gentleman in a plain evening-dress coat in which glittered a handful of decorations. He had close-cropped brown hair, emphatic eyebrows, cold blue eyes and a distinctive beak of a nose.

It was, Serena recognised, the Duke of Wellington. He had changed little in the ten years since their last meeting. As far as she could tell his rise to immense fame and fortune had made little difference in his manner. The most important man in Brussels, and indeed in Europe, was cheerful and affable, shaking hands with the various dignitaries presented to him, laughing heartily when somebody cracked a joke.

Yet somehow the elaborately uniformed generals, the high-ranking dignitaries, the whole glittering ballroom were no more than a brilliant backdrop for his dominating personality.

People crowded around him, eagerly seeking news and reassurance. Was Boney really on the move? Was the Allied army going to give battle? Were the rumours true?

'True enough,' said the Duke. 'We are off tomorrow.'

The news ran rapidly around the ballroom, producing wild excitement in some, fear in others. Officers began saying farewell to their partners and slipping away to rejoin their regiments. Others, stationed in Brussels itself and with more time in hand, seized their partners and hurled themselves back into the dance.

Mingled with all the fear and the excitement was a sense of relief. The waiting was over at last, the battle was about to begin. The most cheerful and unconcerned person in the room seemed to be the Duke himself. He had already given the orders that would set his army on the move, and for the next few hours there was nothing more he could do. For the moment, at least, he proposed to enjoy himself.

The Doctor turned to Serena. 'Somehow I've got to manage a private word with the Duke.'

'That won't be easy. Look at the crowd round him.'

'All the same, it's got to be done. I need to warn him he's in danger.'

'What makes you so sure?'

'Because he's still alive for the moment. He may well be about to dance to "tread a measure", as they say. And this is the eve of Waterloo.'

Chapter Thirty-one.

Paying the Piper

Serena looked at the crowd of dignitaries pressing about the Duke.

'How are you going to get to him?'

The Doctor smiled. 'I'm not, you are.'

'How am I going to do that?'

'Simple. Just march up and present yourself. I'll be close behind you.'

'Why should he be willing to talk to me?'

'Don't be offended, Serena but...'

'But what? Well, Doctor?'

The Doctor drew a deep breath. 'If the Iron Duke has one weakness, it's a liking for the company of a pretty woman.

Believe me, Serena, he'll want to talk to you.'

The Doctor was right.

The Duke was chatting cheerfully to a serious-looking group of senior officers.

'Oh, the French Army is a wonderful machine,' he was saying. 'But I don't care for machines. I make my campaigns with string. If something snaps, I tie a few more knots and carry on!' In response to another general's anxious question he said testily, 'Plans? I have no plans. I shall be guided by circumstance.'

The Duke became aware of a stir in the crowd around him.

He looked up and saw a vision in white satin and silver net bearing down on him. A tall, aristocratically beautiful young woman with green eyes and golden hair was sweeping through the crowd. Behind her came a little fellow with a mop of dark hair who looked vaguely familiar.

Come to think of it, the girl looked vaguely familiar as well.

But the Duke, who had known many beautiful women in his life, couldn't quite place this one.

Serena came up to him and curtseyed. 'I must apologise for breaking in upon you, Your Grace.'

'Not at all, not at all,' said the Duke enthusiastically.

'Delighted, my dear.'

'I can claim only a brief acquaintance, and that many years ago,' Serena went on. 'Allow me to present my friend Doctor John Smith. We both met your lordship on the same rather momentous occasion.'

The Duke was not best pleased at the introduction of the Doctor into what looked like a very promising encounter. He looked down his beaky nose at him.

'I'm afraid, sir, that I cannot recall...'

'I am well aware that I am not as memorable as Lady Serena,' said the Doctor. 'If I might remind your lordship of his first, and I think only, meeting with the late Lord Nelson.'

The Duke stared hard at him. 'By God it's Smith John Smith! The fellow who warned us about that dammed courier with his bomb. Saved both our lives! How long ago was it?'

'Ten years,' said the Doctor. 'I come today with another warning. Can I beg a few minutes of your lordship's time?'

The Duke wasn't too pleased he cast a longing look at Serena but he was fair-minded too. 'I suppose you've earned it. Dammit, you earned it ten years ago.' He looked round and beckoned a distinguished-looking middle-aged man standing nearby. 'Richmond! Will you lend me your study for a moment?'

'Of course, Your Grace.'

A slender young man in an elegant uniform came hurrying up to them.

'Your Grace!'

The Duke frowned. 'Your Royal Highness?'

'All evening we have been seeking the one man who can introduce us to this mysterious beauty.' He bowed to Serena.

'I might have known it would turn out to be your lordship. If I might beg the favour?'

'Of course,' said the Duke resignedly. 'Your Royal Highness, allow me to present '

'Lady Serena,' whispered the Doctor.

'Lady Serena, of course,' said the Duke. 'Lady Serena, His Royal Highness the Prince of Orange.'

Serena curtseyed and the Prince bowed over her hand.

'May I beg you to favour me with the next waltz?'

'I'm afraid I don't know the dance, Your Highness.'

'I will teach you!'

'Doctor?' said Serena.

The Doctor nodded and the Prince led her away.

The Duke of Richmond led the Duke of Wellington and the Doctor out of the ballroom and along the corridor to his study, showed them in, and discreetly retired.

'Well Mr Smith?' said the Duke. 'No, it's Doctor Smith now, is it? One of your disguises I suppose. What have you to say to me?'

'I have received information that there is to be another attempt on your lordship's life.'

The Duke gave one of his cracks of laughter. 'Is that all?

Won't be the first you know! Never come to anything.'

The Doctor sighed. This wasn't going to be easy. 'The attempt is to take place this evening, "on the eve of battle".

Most probably at this very ball.'

'They'll have to look dammed sharp about it,' said the Duke. 'I'll be away pretty soon.'

'I do wish you would take this seriously,' snapped the Doctor. 'You were pretty sceptical in London remember if I hadn't got rid of that parcel you and Lord Nelson would have been scattered all over the Colonial Office!'

The Duke of Wellington wasn't accustomed to being addressed in such tones. His jutting chin went up and his frosty blue eyes looked down the beaky nose at the incongruous little figure before him. 'Now see here, Doctor whatever-your-name-is, I have a battle to fight and '

There was a rap on the door and the Duke of Richmond appeared. Looming behind him was a tall, pleasant-faced soldier.

'Colonel Grant, bearing dispatches,' said Richmond.

The officer came into the room, saluted and handed a sealed packet to the Duke, who took it and began ripping it open. 'This is Colonel Grant, Doctor, in charge of Intelligence,' he said coldly. 'I suggest you confide your suspicions to him.'

He began studying the dispatches.

The Doctor and Colonel Grant moved aside and the Doctor repeated his story.

'The woman behind this planned attempt is determined and cunning,' he said.

Grant was astonished. 'A woman?'

'She calls herself the Countess, and she's a close associate of Napoleon. Don't underestimate her.'

Grant gave him a sceptical look. 'Nothing concerning such an attempt has reached me. May I enquire as to the source of your information?'

Prince Talleyrand probably wouldn't go down well as the source, thought the Doctor. 'I'm sorry, I'm not at liberty to tell you.'

'The Doctor is a highly mysterious fellow, Grant,' said the Duke. 'On the other hand, it's only fair to warn you that his predictions have proved accurate in the past. Richmond, have you a good map here?'

The Duke of Richmond produced a map from a drawer in the big desk. The Duke unrolled it, pinning it down with an inkwell and a paperweight. He stared down at it broodingly for a long moment.

'Boney has humbugged me, by God,' he said abruptly. 'He has moved faster than I would have thought possible. He has gained twenty-four hours' march on me.'