‘Colonel Chaumert, of the Imperial Guard, your grace.’ The Frenchman bowed his head.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘I have a message for you.’ He glanced at Somerset.‘It is for your ears only.’

Arthur rubbed his jaw. ‘Leave us.’

Somerset hesitated. ‘Are you certain, your grace?’

‘What harm could befall me now?’

Somerset shrugged, and then left the room, shooting a warning glance at the Frenchman as he went through the door and closed it behind him.

‘Now then.’ Arthur gazed directly at Colonel Chaumert. ‘Explain yourself.’

Chapter 64 - On the road to Charleroi, 4 a.m., 19 June 1815

Chapter 64

On the road to Charleroi, 4 a.m., 19 June 1815

‘You must understand that this meeting must remain a secret,’ Chaumert said as they passed by the company of guardsmen blocking the road.

‘If the meeting serves no purpose I have no intention of ever admitting to it,’ Arthur replied coldly.

‘Good,’ the French officer nodded as the small column of riders passed through the moonlit countryside.

Despite the defeat a number of units of the Army of the North had remained intact and had been avoided by the Prussian pursuit, who had preferred easier pickings. Arthur and his small escort of Life Guards had ridden with Chaumert as far as Genappe, and then Arthur had continued with the colonel and a squadron of lancers to the final destination, following side roads to avoid the French soldiers fleeing towards the frontier. Now they turned off the road on to a narrow lane, at the end of which was a small farm. A carriage sat in the farmyard. By the light of the moon, Arthur could see a perimeter of sentries surrounding the building. Chaumert reined in and slipped down from his saddle. He tethered his horse to a post outside the door and looked up at Arthur.

‘He’s waiting inside.’

Arthur hesitated. He wondered if he should have heeded Somerset’s advice not to leave his headquarters with the French colonel. But there was little to fear, and something might yet be salvaged for the good of all by his agreeing to come. He dismounted and handed the reins to Chaumert. Then he lifted the latch and entered the farmhouse. A small fire glowed in the hearth of the main room and by its flickering light Arthur could see the dim figure sitting on a stool to one side. He turned at the sound of Arthur’s footsteps.

‘Good evening, my dear Duke,’ Napoleon said without a smile. ‘I should say that it is a very good evening for you. I congratulate you on your victory.’

Arthur stared at him from the shadows by the door, and replied, in French, ‘There has been too great a loss of life for me to accept any congratulations.’