Shattered Rainbows Read Online Free Page A

also deeper, harder-to-define feelings. The desire to atone for his sins; the intense aliveness experienced when death was imminent; dark excitement at the thought of practicing again the lethal skills at which he excelled. They were not feelings he wanted to discuss, even with Clare and Nicholas. "I've always regretted that I was invalided home and missed the last push from the Peninsula into France. It would give a sense of completion to go against the French one last time."
    "That's all very well," Nicholas said dryly. "But do try not to get yourself killed."
    "The French didn't manage it before, so I don't suppose they will this time." Michael hesitated, then added, "If anything does happen to me, the lease of the mine will revert to you. I wouldn't want it to fall into the hands of outsiders."
    Clare's face tightened at his matter-of-fact reference to possible death. "You needn't worry," he said reassuringly. "The only time I was seriously wounded was when I wasn't carrying my good-luck piece. Believe me, I won't make that mistake again."
    Intrigued, she said, "What kind of lucky piece?"
    "It's something Lucien designed and built at Oxford. I admired it greatly, so he gave it to me. In fact, I have it here." Michael pulled a silver tube from inside his coat and gave it to Clare. "Lucien coined the word 'kaleidoscope,' using the Greek words for 'beautiful form.' Look in that end and point it toward the light."
    She did as he instructed, then gasped. "Good heavens. It's like a brilliantly colored star."
    "Turn the tube slowly. The patterns will change."
    There was a faint rattle as she obeyed. She sighed with pleasure. "Lovely. How does it work?"
    "I believe it's only bits of colored glass and some reflectors. Still, the effect is magical." He smiled as he remembered his sense of wonder the first time he had looked inside. "I've always fancied that the kaleidoscope contains shattered rainbows—if you look at the broken pieces the right way, eventually you'll find a pattern."
    She said softly, "So it became a symbol of hope for you."
    "I suppose it did." She was right; in the days when his life had seemed to be shattered beyond repair, he had found comfort in studying the exquisite, ever-changing patterns. Out of chaos, order. Out of anguish, hope.
    Nicholas took the tube from Clare and gazed inside. "Mmm, wonderful. I'd forgotten this. If Lucien hadn't had the misfortune to be born an earl, he'd have made a first-class engineer."
    They all laughed. With laughter, it was easy to ignore what the future might bring.
     

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Chapter 3

     
    Brussels, Belgium
    April 1815
    The aide-de-camp gestured for Michael to enter the office. Inside he found the Duke of Wellington frowning at a sheaf of papers. The duke glanced up and his expression lightened. "Major Kenyon—glad to see you. It's about time those fools in Horse Guards sent me someone competent instead of boys with nothing but family influence to commend them."
    "It was a bit of a struggle sir," Michael replied, "but eventually I convinced them I might be of use."
    "Later I'll want you with a regiment, but for the time being, I'm going to keep you for staff
work. Matters are in a rare shambles." The duke rose and went to the window so he could scowl at a troop of Dutch-Belgian soldiers marching by. "If I had my Peninsular army here, this would be easy. Instead, too many of the British troops are untested, and the only Dutch-Belgians with experience are those who served under Napoleon's eagles and aren't sure which side they want to win. They'll probably bolt at the first sign of action." He gave a bark of laughter. "I don't know if this army will frighten Bonaparte, but by God, it frightens me."
    Michael suppressed a smile. The dry humor proved the duke was unfazed by a situation that would dismay a lesser man.
    They talked a few minutes longer about what duties Wellington had in mind. Then he escorted Michael out to the large anteroom. Several aides had been working