“I’m Captain Lavisser,” Captain and Major Lavisser said. The Guards gave their officers dual ranks; the lower one denoted their responsibility in the regiment while the higher was an acknowledgment that any Guards officer was a superior being, especially when compared to an impoverished swordsman from the Dirty Half Hundred. “I’m Captain Lavisser,” the Honorable John Lavisser said again, “but you must call me John. Please." He still spoke in Danish.

“I thought we were not to meet till Saturday?” Willsen said, taking off his fencing slippers and pulling on boots.

“We’re to be companions for a fair time”—Lavisser ignored Willsen’s hostility—“and it’s better, I think, that we should be friends. Besides, are you not curious about our orders?”

“My orders are to escort you to Copenhagen and see you safe out again,” Willsen responded stiffly as he pulled on his red coat. The wool of the coat was faded and its black cuffs and facings were scuffed. He strapped on his seven-guinea sword, unhappily aware of the valuable blade that hung from Lavisser’s slings, but Willsen had long learned to curb his envy at the inequalities of life, even if he could not entirely forget them. He knew well enough that his captaincy in the Dirty Half Hundred was worth £1,500, exactly what it cost to purchase a mere lieutenancy in the Guards, but so be it. Willsen had been taught by his Danish father and English mother to trust in God, do his duty and accept fate, and fate had now decreed he was to be the companion of a man who was the son of an earl, a guardsman, and an aide to Prince Frederick, Duke of York, who was the second son of George III and Commander in Chief of the British army.

“But don’t you want to know why we are going to Copenhagen?” Lavisser asked.

“I have no doubt I shall be informed at the proper time,” Willsen said, his manner still stiff.

Lavisser smiled and his thin, saturnine face was transformed with charm. “The proper time, Willsen, is now,” he said. “Come, at least allow me to buy you supper and reveal the mysteries of our errand.”