In the Presence of Angels
Plymouth, Devon
May 21, 1816Will fastened his saddlebag with a firm snap of the straps, then mounted Maestro, who had miraculously survived the fierce fighting of Waterloo none the worse for his injury. Breathing in a long, fresh breath of the salt air blowing in off the Devonshire coast, he settled himself more comfortably in the saddle and smiled down at his soldier servant who had been every bit as loyal as his horse and for as many years.
"I think that's it, Sergeant," he said. "Thank you for all your help."
"Are you sure you don't want me coming with you, Major?" Harold Tibbins asked, looking anxious and concerned. "Norfolk isn't exactly around the corner."
"Not around the corner, no," Will agreed. "Still, I think that this is something that I best do on my own. There's no point dragging anyone else into the reception I'm bound to receive when I return to Alconleigh. Perhaps it's a good thing my brother isn't expecting me." His voice held a touch of irony. Even Tibbins didn't know the whole of the story, and Will had no inclination to enlighten him. "In any ...
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