Flashy finished his preparations for dinner. Since formal dress was requested he unpacked his dress uniform. The 11th lancers parade dress was particularly dashing, one of the main reasons he'd had influence exerted by his father to earn him a commision. The trousers were bright red and extremely tight, earning the regiment the nickname the cherrypickers. Luckily Flashman had both the legs and the bottom to do the tight trousers true justice.<br/><br/>With a splash of pomade to stiffen his military whiskers and draping his heavily brocaded jacket over one shoulder as was the fashion in the light brigade he marched from the Bamboo room to the dining room and entered.<br/><br/>"Lady Ambrose." Flashman greeted the hostess, with a flamboyant bow. "Captain Harry Flashman of the eleventh lancers at your service."<br/><br/>Harry looked around the room, in addition to the lady of the house, her two sons and a lady and a gentleman unknown to him were in attendance. Most notably was a young woman in a state of partial undress and bound by a rope. Flashman feigned a casual air as if such sights were common in an English manor as he waited to be seated by either the butler or a footman.<br/><br/>"May I commend you on your choice for my bedchamber, my lady?" Flashman said, always quick to toady to those in power. "As I have recently returned from action, serving the crown in India, I feel most comfortable with the decor."<br/><br/>Flashman, made certain to say no more of the action he had seen. The Victoria cross adorning his uniform would speak for itself. The circumstances of it's earning had been widely reported at the time in the national papers. The true events of Piper's fort were known only to Harry and Sergeant Butler, and the Sergeant being dead by Flasman's sword thrust was in no position to expose the truth.