Free The Best of Men by Claire Letemendia Page B

flushed and dropped his arms. “Here, have some wine,” Beaumont offered, perhaps aware that he had been ungracious.
    “Fond of the grape, as ever,” remarked Tom, still eyeing him as he served it out.
    “Of this wine, yes, especially after what I’ve been drinking for the past months.”
    “Lord Beaumont does keep a wonderful cellar,” Ingram said, raising his glass.
    At that moment Lord Beaumont himself entered, and they all bowed to him.
    “Ingram, how happy I am to see you!” he exclaimed. “And Thomas, I thank you for coming home so quickly. Are we not blessed that Laurence is here safe and sound again?” He accepted a glass and sipped at it, saying afterwards, “The ladies have abandoned us. They are on a visit to the almshouses. And, Thomas, your darling Mary departed a couple of days ago to pay her respects to her family at Winchcombe.”
    Tom looked disappointed. “I may miss her, then. We can only stay for the night.”
    “Ah, that’s a pity. So, what news have you from Oxford?”
    “It’s said that His Majesty will soon raise the royal standard, and his nephew Prince Rupert should have arrived in England by now,” Tom told him more cheerfully. “He’s to be one of the chief commanders of the horse. I only pray our troop will serve under him. I’ve heard he’s a formidable soldier, and he’s been trained in all the most advanced cavalry manoeuvres.”
    “It is war, then,” murmured Lord Beaumont, becoming grave.
    “But His Majesty is still very short of recruits,” Ingram said. “My friend Radcliff’s troop, woefully so. And the infantry are a disaster. None of them know their right foot from their left.”
    “We can always console ourselves that the rebels are much worse off,” Tom asserted.
    “How so?” inquired Lord Beaumont.
    “They’re mostly weavers or tailors, or apprentices. They haven’t been bred to fight. They’ll desert in droves at the first engagement.”
    “What about the Earl of Essex?” Ingram put in. “And Russell? And Mandeville? Or Lord Fairfax, in the north? Many men of quality have sided with Parliament, seasoned veterans amongst them.”
    “But not you, I trust?” Tom asked his brother.
    “No, not me,” Beaumont replied evenly.
    “Tell me, who did you serve with in the Low Countries? The Dutch, I presume.”
    “Er … I was with the Germans for most of the time,” Beaumont said, casting Ingram a warning glance.
    “In the cavalry?”
    “Yes.”
    “Then you must have been drilled in the new Swedish fashion.”
    “The what?”
    “You must know of it – the style favoured by King Gustavus. His Highness Prince Rupert will no doubt introduce it here. Three ranks of horsemen in loose formation and then a charge with the sword. No pistol fire until you meet the enemy.”
    “Don’t the Germans use the six-rank formation, Tom?” Ingram pointed out.
    Tom gave a little shrug and turned to his father. “I shall have to ask you for more money to cover bills for the troop. The Oxford merchants have all raised their prices on us. The colleges are no better. When they were asked to contribute to the war effort, some of them began hiding away their plate.”
    “As I can understand,” Lord Beaumont said. “To see such beautiful things melted down, for such an unhappy purpose! My cousinStratton came recently to consult me on that issue. He was reluctant to part with some silver plate from the family, yet he felt it was his duty to do so.”
    “As you must have advised him.”
    “Oh no. I told him he must follow his own conscience, but that the plate was as nothing compared to his greatest treasure, which neither King nor Parliament could ask him to surrender. I refer to his wife,” Lord Beaumont added, smiling. “Did you ever meet her, Laurence?”
    “I forget,” Beaumont said, at which Ingram heard Tom stifle a snigger.
    “If you had met her, you would surely remember her. She and a friend of hers, a dark-haired lady whose name now escapes me,