“Wait here. I believe the colonel is in a meeting. Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“With ice?” She grinned. Clearly, she’d grown accustomed to being around Americans.

“Yes, please.”

When in Rome, William had said, taking a liking to the British presentation. But John and Tom had not yet discovered an affinity for it.

Tom sank into the proffered chair. Who might have sat here before him? Kings? Queens? And now, Thomas Robert Powell of Charles City County, Virginia. It sent a shiver through him. Some of the very people who had walked these halls might well be the ones his ancestors had fought in the revolution. And now he would fight alongside their descendants against a new aggressor. Enemies turned allies.

The woman returned and smiled at his awkward positioning on the chair. Even his tall frame was no match for the enormity of the furniture.

“You’d think they were made for giants,” she said. “But in fact, the original family to own this house was quite diminutive, like most people of their day.”

“Then why all of this?” Tom waved his hand around the room.

“It’s for show. It was expensive to make furniture in this scale. And especially to have it upholstered. The larger it was, the more it showcased your wealth.”

They exchanged a look that Tom understood to be an agreement that such things were insignificant now, especially in light of the reason they were all gathered here. Extravagance was an unknown word in this age.

“Here’s your tea,” she said, handing him a gilded tray. He smiled at the jingle of ice cubes in the glass. The first time he’d had such a treat since he’d landed in England. “And a pack of cigarettes. The current owner of the house is my cousin, Sir Ernest Wills of Imperial Tobacco. I think he’s on a mission to convert the entire American army to his brand. We’ve been instructed to hand them out like candy.”

“Thank you,” said Tom. Though it was fashionable to do so, he hadn’t taken up smoking. The one time he’d tried it, it had prompted a harrowing fit of coughing. Friends told him that he would get used to it, but what was the point of acquiring a taste for something he didn’t care for in the first place and cost money he didn’t need to spend? He put the pack in the pocket of his coat. John and William could arm wrestle for them. They had an ongoing contest with occasional prizes for the most recent winner. So far, John was ahead with an impressive tally of victories and therefore worthy of this bounty. But Tom knew that John would share with William without question.

The woman departed and he watched her walk through a door that opened to yet another cavernous room, adorned, he could see, with swords and antlers arranged in decorative patterns.