The girls looked scared, so I ran to their defense.“What’s going on here?”“None of your business, loser. Get out of here,” he said to me.“...ctually, it IS my business. You’re upsetting my prom date.” “Really, Ella? You said no to me because you’re taking HIM to the prom? There goes your popularity,” he said to Ella.“What Ella does is none of your business. You’re just jealous because she shot you down.”“Like I care, I’ll go to the prom with a girl who’s ten times as hot as Ella.”You think that. In any event, I was now twenty-four years of age, and a Captain in His Majesty's army, a far cry from the sixteen year old apprentice scrivener caught poaching on his estate.Lord Brownlow was very affable and friendly; he offered me a cigar, gave me a glass of wine and bade me tell him the complete story of Quatre Bras. I did as best as I could, taking sips from my glass as I relived the memories of that terrible day. When I ended my story there was a long, heavy silence. Eventually his. More

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