Free Shattered Rainbows by Mary Jo Putney

troops with orders to make of them what I can."
    "It's a better use of your abilities than being a staff galloper. What's the regiment?"
    "A provisional outfit called the 105th. It's made up of a handful of experienced British regulars who are being thrown in to season a mix of green soldiers and half-trained militiamen. The duke hopes the veterans will provide enough starch to make the whole regiment effective."
    "You'll have your work cut out for you."
    "I don't have to teach them anything difficult, like skirmishing or scouting. All they'll have to do is stand in one place and shoot their muskets, preferably not at each other."
    "While cannonballs are tearing off the heads of their comrades, imperial guards are marching toward them to the beat of the death drums, and dragoons are charging on huge, iron-hooved horses. What could be simpler?" Kenneth said ironically.
    "Exactly. Nothing at all complicated about the business."
    Compared to restraining himself around Catherine, turning raw recruits into soldiers would be dead easy.
    After dressing with extra care, Catherine went downstairs to go to the musicale. Michael was waiting for her in the foyer. The dark green Rifleman uniform fitted like a glove, and she'd never seen another man who looked so good in it. Trying not to stare, she said, "I'm looking forward to this evening. Except for events given by the duke, I've hardly been out in weeks."
    "It's my pleasure." He offered his arm, and a smile that started deep in his eyes. "You look very fine tonight."
    She took his arm and they went out to the carriage. Michael's long legs brushed hers as he folded himself into the cramped space. A slow burn of attraction began humming through her veins. This time she recognized it immediately. Familiarity made it less disquieting than the night in the kitchen. In fact, she found it possible to enjoy the sensuality since she knew her companion would not drop a hand on her thigh or try to force a kiss on her. Her desire was simply like a craving to eat fresh strawberries—real, but not dangerously powerful.
    Lady Trowbridge's town house was not large, and the receiving line was in the same salon where guests were talking and laughing before the music program. The high-ceilinged chamber shimmered with candles, flamboyantly costumed officers from half a dozen nations, and almost equally colorful ladies.
    "A brilliant scene," Michael remarked. "Brussels has gone mad for all things military."
    "Once peace returns, the army will go out of fashion again," Catherine said tartly. "There is nothing like danger to make everyone love a soldier."
    He gave her a glance of rueful understanding. "Yet when Napoleon is defeated, officers will be retired on half pay and common soldiers will be thrown back into civilian life with little to show for their service except scars."
    "Until the next war." Catherine studied the crowded salon more closely. "Perhaps it's my imagination, but the atmosphere seems strange tonight—a hectic kind of gaiety."
    "It's like this throughout fashionable Brussels, and the fever mounts with every day," Michael said quietly. "People are waltzing on the lip of the volcano. As in war, the possibility of danger heightens the intensity of living."
    "But the danger is an illusion," Catherine said, her voice edged. "If Napoleon were to approach Brussels, most of these glittering people will fly back to their safe homes in Britain. They won't stay to face the guns, or nurse the wounded, or search the battlefield for the bodies of their loved ones."
    "No," Michael said, his voice quieter yet. "Few people have the courage of you and the other women who follow the drum. You belong to an elite sisterhood, Catherine."
    She looked down at her gloved hands. "I'm proud of that, I suppose. Yet it's an honor I won't mind forgoing."
    Their turn had come to greet the hostess. Lady Trowbridge exclaimed, "How lovely to see you, Catherine. Your admirers will be in ecstasy. How
do
you manage to look