Authors: Tracy Grant
Tags: #tasha alexander, #lauren willig, #vienna waltz, #rightfully his, #Dark Angel, #Fiction, #Romance, #loretta chase, #imperial scandal, #beneath a silent moon, #deanna raybourn, #the mask of night, #malcom and suzanne rannoch historical mysteries, #historical romantic suspense, #Regency, #josephine, #cheryl bolen, #his spanish bride, #Historical Romance, #Regency Romance, #liz carlyle, #melanie and charles fraiser, #Historical, #m. louisa locke, #elizabeth bailey, #shadows of the heart, #Romantic Suspense, #anna wylde, #robyn carr, #daughter of the game, #shores of desire, #carol r. carr, #teresa grant, #Adult Fiction, #Historical mystery, #the paris affair, #Women's Fiction
"Adam, listen." Caroline lifted her hand and laid it against his cheek. "Whatever happens, I'll never leave you."
Relief coursed through him. Not because of the words but because Caroline had understood, better than he did himself, how much he needed to hear them.
Caroline's fingers moved against his cheek. "Say it, Adam."
"Say it?" Adam repeated. The intoxication of happiness had left his brain in a befuddled state.
"I said the words. Now I want you to."
Laughter welled up inside him, sweeping away any last vestiges of doubt. "I love you, light of my heart," he said, bending his head to hers. "I always have. I always will."
Epilogue
London, July 1813
"Is that the last of Emily's things?" Adam asked, looking down at the half-filled trunk.
"Very nearly." Caroline folded a sprigged white muslin dress, part of the new wardrobe Emily had acquired in the two and a half months they had been in England.
Adam took the dress from her and laid it on the pile of things in the trunk. "You're not sorry to be going back?"
"Not in the least," Caroline assured him, "though I'm eternally grateful to Charles Stuart for insisting we take time for a wedding journey." She dropped down on a corner of the bed that wasn't strewn with her own clothing, hugging her memories of the past weeks to herself. After their wedding and Hawkins and Elena's, both of which had been performed by Will Fenton, she and Adam had taken Emily to Finley-Abbott. The visit had not been without its difficult moments, for Caroline's mother had been shocked to learn her daughter had married "that little brown boy," but both she and Caroline's brother had warmed to Adam considerably when they learned how high he stood in Lord Anandale's esteem. Afterwards, Caroline, Adam, and Emily tad spent a blissful fortnight at Edward and Dolly's house in the Cotswolds. There, Caroline felt, they had begun to truly be a family.
Caroline picked up a flowered shawl and began to fold it. "I must admit I'm glad to know I won't lose my husband to the wilds of Spain the moment we return to Lisbon." She looked at Adam anxiously. The English army, having scored a great victory at Vitoria, were now chasing the French through northern Spain toward the French border. Caroline had welcomed the news, not only because it meant the war might soon be over, but because it meant Adam and Hawkins would no longer be gathering intelligence for Wellington. But she wondered, not for the first time, if Adam would mind being confined to a desk.
Adam grinned. "Thank God. I couldn't have stood missing more of Emily's growing up."
Caroline smiled back, relieved. "I hope I hear from Adela," she said, feeling a stab of worry. "God knows how long it will take my letter to reach her." Caroline's concern for her friend had increased with the news of the battle, for both armies would have passed near Acquera on their way to Vitoria.
Adam put his hand on her shoulder, his eyes showing that he understood her concern. "Adela's a survivor," he said softly. "Like you."
Caroline placed her hand over his own, grateful for his comfort. She still woke in the mornings scarcely able to believe that he was beside her, that he always would be. Adam's fears, she knew, were greater than her own. Sometimes, when he thought she was asleep, she would feel his gaze upon her or his hand caressing her face with a sort of wonder.
"Here," Caroline said, giving Adam the shawl, "we'd best start on my things." She glanced at the clothes laid out on the bed and picked up the white thread-net bonnet she had bought for her wedding, smiling over the memories it evoked.
"Ah," Adam said, turning back from the trunk. "We have to be especially careful with this." He took the bonnet from Caroline's hands and set it on her head. "You look exquisite, Mrs. Durward. I'd marry you all over again."
Caroline laughed. "Over a month after our wedding. What a declaration of fidelity."
"You have doubts about my fidelity, madam?" Adam's smile was teasing, but as he bent his head to kiss her she saw that his eyes had darkened with passion.
Caroline felt an answering hunger flare within her. After all, it was more than ten hours since they had last made love. She parted her lips and pulled him closer, twining her fingers in his hair. Adam stepped forward, then stumbled and lost his balance. They both fell backward on the bed, no doubt crushing half her wardrobe in the process. Lost in Adam's embrace, Caroline decided this was a paltry consideration.
"Daddy!"
At the sound of their daughter's shout, they both sat up abruptly. Emily appeared in the bedroom doorway, a piece of paper clutched in her hand. "A letter came for you," she told Adam. "Aunt Margaret said I should bring it up." She looked from Adam to Caroline. "You look funny," she added.
"Do we?" Adam asked, pushing the hair out of his eyes and accepting the letter from Emily. "Well that's something married people are allowed to do."
Emily giggled and ran over to Caroline. "Your hair's falling down, Mama."
"So it is." The bonnet had fallen off and Caroline's hair was tumbling loose from its pins. She pushed the loosened strands behind her ears and bent over to hug Emily.
Adam slit open the letter. "Good God," he exclaimed, staring down at it.
"What is it?" Caroline asked with sudden concern.
Adam continued to stare at the letter, with a mixture of surprise and pleasure. "It's from Lescaut."
"From Colonel Lescaut?" Caroline repeated. "But—how could he possibly get a letter to you?"
Adam looked at her, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Oh, there are ways, believe me."
Emily tugged at Caroline's skirt. "Isn't he the man who helped you find me?"
Caroline nodded, thinking of all Lescaut had done for them. "Is he all right?" she asked Adam.
"For the moment at least. This was written after Vitoria " Adam sounded relieved. "Here," he added, holding out the letter to her. "See for yourself."
Caroline took the single sheet of cream-colored paper, much creased, as if it had passed through many hands on its way to Adam.
24 June, place best unspecified
My dear Adam,
I have heard
—
never mind how
—
that you have been accused of spying for the French. How I wish it were true. Though I have no doubt that your government are as capable of gross errors as our own, I am sure that you will manage to extricate yourself from these charges.
We have, you will no doubt have heard by now, suffered an ignoble defeat. God knows what lies ahead. But there are compensations in everything. I must confess that I would .not be sorry to see my homeland again, though I would prefer not to do so with British soldiers on my heels.
Whatever the outcome between our two countries, I wish you every happiness. Please convey my best wishes to Emily and to the charming Madame Rawley who, with a little less privation, I suspect is now the even more charming Madame Durward. If I have not understood the matter correctly, forgive me.
Yours in friendship,
Robert Lescaut
Emily peered over her mother's shoulder at the letter. "Will we see him again?" she asked.
Adam grinned. "I have no doubt of it. Somehow I'm going to find a way to tell him the whole story. It's better than anything he could have invented himself."
Caroline looked back at the letter. "How did he know we'dbe married?" she asked.
Adam kissed her soundly. "Robert is a very perceptive man."
Historical Note
Many of the events in
Dark Angel
are based on contemporary accounts, generally of British army officers.
Though the larger towns and cities mentioned in the Peninsula are real, Acquera, Talcona, Norilla, and Bunedo are fictional (as is Finley-Abbott in England). Much of the information on Adam and Caroline's journey through Spain and Portugal comes from the letters of Colonel Augustus Frazer of the Royal Horse Artillery (London: Longman, Brown, Green, Longmans, & Roberts, 1859). Frazer arrived in Lisbon in December 1812 and traveled to British Army Headquarters, then went with the army to Burgos and Vitoria and beyond—the reverse of Adam and Caroline's journey. I've relied on Frazer for the spelling of Spanish and Portuguese place names, which varies in contemporary sources. The church of San Sebastian and Via Ruel and Via Léon are fictional, but the description of Salamanca, including the Foundling Hospital, also comes from Frazer.
Lord Fitzroy Somerset, Sir Charles Stuart, Lord Castlereagh, Lord Palmerston, Emily Cowper, Lord Mulgrave, and of course Wellington were all real people. Wellington really did break off in the midst of a conversation to give chase to a fox though it did not happen in Freneda and he was talking not to Adam Durward but to the Spanish Ambassador.
Sherry, Andy, and Jack were inspired by the letters of George Bridgeman, afterwards Earl of Bradford (London: the Chiswick Press, 1875). In 1812-14, Bridgeman and his friends Lord John Russell and Robert Clive traveled through Spain, Portugal, Sicily, and Malta.
The story told on the
Sea Horse
of the officers shooting the monkeys near the Hindu temple comes from testimony to the House of Commons reported in the Morning Chronicle in April 1813.
Discover Tracy Grant
Rannoch / Fraser Historicals
Lescaut Quartet
About the Author
Tracy Grant has been making up stories as long as she can remember and writing them down since third grade when she was assigned writing a story and realized she had a wealth of characters and plots inside her head. She studied British history at Stanford University and received the Firestone Award for Excellence in Research for her honors thesis on shifting conceptions of honor in late fifteenth century England. She lives in the San Francisco Bay Area, where she is on the board of the Merola Opera Program, a training program for professional opera singers, coaches, and stage directors. For more information about her books, please visit her website at
http://tracygrant.wordpress.com
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