His Counterfeit Condesa (Historical Romance) (12 page)

His expression did not change, though for a brief instant the grey eyes were veiled. ‘You are honest.’

‘I must speak as I find.’

When he thought back to the occasion of their first meeting he could understand why she would consider him ruthless and arrogant. All the same her words stung a little.

‘Have I not redeemed myself in any way?’ he asked.

‘You are quite beyond redemption, sir.’ The smile robbed the remark of malice but he was not entirely sure it had been mere banter. It should not have mattered and yet he knew it did. He could not have said exactly how it had come about, but suddenly her opinion of him mattered a great deal.

* * *

When supper was over he rose and, taking her hand, led her out of the room. She had expected that they would part then and go their ways for a while, but he retained his hold on her hand. It was gentle but it would not be resisted. He drew her round to face him.

‘Dance with me again.’

‘Is that a command?’

The grey eyes glinted. ‘Most assuredly it is and, as I am your husband, madam, you are sworn to obey.’

Her chin came up at once and he had the pleasure of seeing a rosy flush mount from her throat to her cheeks. He saw it was on the tip of her tongue to deliver a pithy set down, and waited for it. Instead she smiled sweetly.

‘How I could I refuse such a charming invitation?’ His enjoyment increased and she saw it. Lowering her voice she added, ‘Do you have any idea how odious you can be?’

‘Of course, for you told me yourself. Arrogant and ruthless I think you said.’

‘Yes, an assessment only too accurately borne out now.’

‘But then I did warn you at the outset that I should not brook disobedience.’

‘Why, I would never dream of it, sir.’

‘Liar. You are contemplating it now, but I promise you it will not be tolerated.’

The tone was disturbingly ambiguous, like the look in his eyes, and suddenly she felt as a swimmer must who inadvertently steps off a shallow ledge into deep water. She should have been afraid but the feeling was more akin to excitement. Unable to think of a reply she tried to focus on the dance but it wasn’t easy when every fibre of her being was focused on him.

He kept her with him for another measure and then led her from the floor. After that, they mingled awhile with the other guests. Sabrina cast a surreptitious look around for Machart but did not see him, and for that was devoutly thankful.

* * *

As the hour grew later the company began to thin out and as the carriages arrived at the door Falconbridge said their goodnights and steered Sabrina away.

‘You look tired, my dear.’

‘I confess I am a little.’

‘There’s time for a few hours’ sleep before we leave.’

She glanced at the clock in the hall. The hands indicated half past two. ‘Are we leaving today?’

‘We are.’

‘Is it really necessary?’

‘I believe it is.’

He took hold of her elbow and guided her up the stairs and along the passage to their chamber. The room was empty.

‘I told Jacinta not to wait up,’ she said.

Closing the door behind them, he nodded. ‘I can perform the offices of a maid if need be.’

‘I can manage.’

‘As you will.’

He crossed to the far side of the room and began to undress. Inevitably, he achieved it more quickly and then retired to the couch. Then he lay for a while, watching her complete her own preparations for bed. Conscious of that steady regard, Sabrina did not linger over the matter, shedding her clothing as quickly as possible, save only for the chemise beneath. Then, having removed her jewellery, she seated herself before the glass and unpinned her hair, shaking it loose over her shoulders. She brushed it vigorously, feeling it leap beneath the strokes. When it was done she blew out the candle and bade her companion goodnight before sliding into bed. She heard him reply and then the faint creaking of the couch as he turned onto his side. She smiled in the darkness and then yawned. Snuggling beneath the covers she closed her eyes and in minutes was asleep.

Across the room, her companion lay awake rather longer, his mind replaying the events of the evening. He had not imagined the spark that had kindled between them, nor was he imagining the attraction he felt now. Given the least encouragement he would have followed his inclination and taken her to bed. Fortunately, she had too much sense to let things get out of hand. She had shown herself to be more than capable of holding him at arm’s length, and of doing it with wit and charm. He permitted himself a wry smile. Far from putting him
off, it had served only to fuel enjoyment and desire. It was his fault, of course; she had been in no way to blame for what had happened. Yet if he had known the consequences then, would he have avoided that kiss? The answer returned in an instant; he would not have missed it for the world. He knew he was never going to forget it either. As long as he lived he would remember how it felt to hold her in his arms. How could he have imagined that what had begun as a simple ruse would rebound upon him so spectacularly?

S
abrina slept soundly and dreamlessly, worn out by the combination of a long journey and the late hour. Ordinarily a ball would have meant a long lie abed the following day to recover. However, it seemed like only minutes, before she was gently shaken awake by a hand on her shoulder. She muttered something and turned over, but the hand was insistent.

‘Come, my dear, it’s time to move.’

Vaguely recognising the voice, she groaned and opened one eye. ‘It can’t be.’

‘I’m afraid it is.’

‘But I’ve only just gone to bed.’

‘Never mind, you can sleep in the coach.’

This time, both eyes opened and focused resentfully on the familiar figure beside her. ‘What o’clock is it?’

‘Seven, or thereabouts.’

‘Seven! We didn’t retire till three.’

‘I know and I’m sorry, but we cannot afford the luxury of lying abed.’

‘Have you no mercy?’

For answer, a ruthless hand drew back the covers. Equally ruthless arms lifted her bodily out and dumped her on her feet. ‘Get dressed. We need to be gone. It isn’t safe to remain.’

The words penetrated the fog in her brain. ‘What is it? Not Machart?’

‘Not yet, but there’s every chance his memory will return. I want to be long gone before it does.’

Sabrina nodded, coming to at last. ‘Yes, of course.’ Then she looked more closely at her companion.

Falconbridge was fully dressed and alert and looked as fresh as a man who had had eight hours’ sleep, not four. His arm was still around her waist. She could feel the warmth of his hand through the filmy fabric of her nightgown. The memory of what had happened the previous evening returned with force. She couldn’t afford any kind of romantic illusions. This man was married to his career. All that could ever happen between them would be a brief affair. The knowledge brought her back to reality.

Disengaging herself gently, she crossed to the washstand and sluiced cold water over her face. The shock woke her completely. She fumbled for a towel. A glance over it revealed the coolly appraising stare that swept her from head to toe. Only then was she fully aware of her own dishevelled appearance and scanty attire. She met his gaze with a level stare.

‘If you would excuse me, I need to dress.’

‘Of course. I’ll see you downstairs.’

‘I’ll be ready in a quarter of an hour.’

He smiled faintly, his expression revealing deep scepticism about the proposed time scale. ‘I’m ever optimistic.’ She threw him a withering glance. It bounced off. He crossed to the door. ‘As soon as may be, my dear.’

* * *

In fact, he was pleasantly surprised when Sabrina joined him some twenty minutes later. His critical gaze could find no fault with her appearance either. She was, he thought, a rare woman.

While the last of the boxes were carried down they took leave of their host.

‘If anyone asks for us, tell them urgent business called me home,’ said Falconbridge.

‘I will, though it will be hours yet before anyone in this house will be stirring.’ Don Pedro held out his hand. ‘In the meantime, I pray you may have a safe and uneventful journey.’

‘Amen to that.’ Falconbridge shook his hand warmly. ‘And thank you, sir. For everything.’

‘Vaya con Dios.’

Sabrina raised her hand in farewell as the carriage drew away. Then she leaned back in her seat and breathed a sigh of relief.

‘We did it.’

Falconbridge shook his head. ‘We’re not out of the woods yet, my dear. I’ll want a lot more distance between us and Aranjuez before I’ll dare to hope so.’

‘With any luck Machart and company will be sound asleep at this moment. We’ll be long gone by the time he wakes.’

‘I pray you’re right.’

He did not labour the point but she knew him well enough to know that he had doubts on the matter. In consequence, she kept an eye on the countryside through which they passed, half-expecting to encounter a French patrol. However, they met none. By then fatigue was making its presence felt and Sabrina slipped into a doze.

* * *

She had no idea how long she slept but when she came to again the sun was much higher. Her companion smiled.

‘Feeling better?’

‘Yes, I thank you.’ She glanced out of the window. ‘We’re making good progress.’

‘So far.’

‘You expect pursuit?’

‘Not expect, no, but it remains a possibility. Thus, it behoves us not to tarry.’

‘At least this time we are going in the right direction, away from the lion’s den.’

‘The lion’s territory is large and his reach is long,’ he replied.

Sabrina looked out of the window again but could see nothing to occasion any alarm at present. She leaned back in her seat regarding her companion steadily for a few moments. The handsome face gave nothing away.

‘This is all familiar to you, is it not? The risk, I mean, and the adventure.’

‘Every soldier encounters risk at some point. It just comes in different guises. We do what the job demands.’

‘Do you enjoy it?’

‘It has its moments,’ he replied. ‘All the same, I shall be glad when this task is satisfactorily completed.’

It occurred to her that the end of the mission meant the end of their brief relationship. The knowledge cast a cloud. Somehow, in a matter of days, she had grown so accustomed to his presence that it was hard to imagine life without it. There could be no denying that what she felt for him was more than mere liking for an agreeable companion, but neither was it infatuation. Her feelings
were quite different. This man’s absence was going to leave a gap that could not easily be filled, if ever.

He saw the shadow cross her face and mistook the reason for it. ‘Don’t worry. I am sure that you will see your father soon.’

‘God willing.’ She paused. ‘And you will return to regular duty for a while.’

‘Yes, unless Major Forbes has found another task for me to perform.’

Her heart thumped. If he were sent on such another mission she might never see him again. ‘Do you think it likely?’

‘Where Forbes is concerned, anything could happen.’

‘But surely if you are promoted to Lieutenant Colonel you will outrank him.’

Falconbridge laughed. ‘What a very pleasing thought.’

‘Yes, although I suppose he would still have the ear of General Ward.’

‘And of Wellington.’

‘A fearful trinity,’ she observed.

‘It is an apt description.’ He paused, eyeing her keenly. ‘And you, my dear, what will you do once your father is freed?’

Sabrina shook her head. ‘In truth I hadn’t thought beyond that moment, but I suppose we will go on as we did before. Perhaps Forbes will find another mission for me, too.’

His expression became more serious. ‘Indeed I hope he will not.’

‘Why so?’

‘I would not see you exploited in this way again.’

She smiled wryly. ‘He exploited my feelings, but that is all. I could have refused.’

‘No, you could not,’ he replied. ‘You are too loyal and too brave.’

She felt a start of surprise for there had been nothing in his voice or look to suggest he was anything but sincere. It stirred a strange emotion in her breast.

‘Not so brave. It was a calculated risk.’

‘All the same, very few young women would have agreed, I think.’ He paused. ‘Forbes is a scoundrel if he ever subjects you to such a risk again.’

‘I shall exercise due care.’

‘I pray you will. I would not have you come to harm, my dear.’

Again the sincerity in his tone was unmistakable and her heart beat faster in response. ‘Nor I you,’ she replied. ‘But I’m sure you will not heed my advice and ignore Major Forbes.’

He returned her smile. ‘He’s a hard man to ignore.’

‘He has a certain way with him, does he not?’

‘That’s putting it tactfully. He’s a devious rogue with a smooth tongue and considerable skill in manipulating people.’

‘Exploitation of others is part of the job. The intelligence service could scarcely operate without it.’

‘Its dealings are usually with those inured to its ways or hardened by long experience,’ he replied. ‘You are neither.’

‘Yet it was my choice to be involved. I just hope it proves to be worth all the effort.’

‘I really believe it will.’

* * *

They had lapsed into silence after this and did not speak again until the carriage stopped half an hour later. It was a welcome respite and Sabrina was relieved to get down and stretch her legs. She was hungry, too,
and readily agreed to the light luncheon that Falconbridge suggested. However, a few words with the
patrón
revealed a limited menu.

‘He says that today he has
fabada.’

Sabrina grinned. ‘Well, I suppose that narrows the choice.’

‘What choice?’

‘Do you want it or not?’

He laughed. ‘I happen to like
fabada,
but can you eat it?’

‘I have no objection, provided it is well-cooked.’

Indeed it proved to be and they helped themselves to a huge tureen full of the delicious fava bean and pork stew. It was accompanied with bread and a jug of the local wine. Sabrina ate hungrily.

Her companion smiled. ‘I never met a woman so easily pleased by such simple fare.’

‘Simple does not mean bad,’ she replied. ‘When one is hungry most food seems delicious.’ Then, eyeing him askance, ‘Or do you imply that my palate is unrefined?’

He seemed taken aback. ‘By no means. I meant it as a compliment.’ Then he saw the mischievous sparkle in her eyes. ‘As you well knew, you rogue.’

She grinned. The thought occurred to him that he would miss her company when this was over. Somehow it had grown on him, and in lots of unexpected ways. If she had flirted or tried to attach him he would have found it easy to resist, but this innocent charm was harder to overcome. Just then he wasn’t even sure he wanted to.

Before either of them could say more they were interrupted by the sudden appearance of Corporal Blakelock.

‘Beg pardon, sir, but there’s a group of riders heading this way. I spied ‘em with the glass from the top of yonder knoll a few minutes ago.’

Falconbridge was on his feet in a moment. ‘How far?’

‘A couple of miles off, I reckon, sir.’

‘How many?’

‘Hard to say from the dust they were kicking up, but I’d guess at least fifteen. Could be more.’

‘French?’

‘Very likely, sir.’

Sabrina looked at Falconbridge. ‘Machart?’

‘Probably, but we’re not going to stay around long enough to be sure.’

‘We can’t outrun them with the carriage.’

‘No. We’ll have to ride.’ He turned back to Blakelock. ‘Get the carriage and chaise out of sight and have the horses saddled at once. We leave as soon as may be.’

‘Aye, sir.’

When the other departed on his errand, Falconbridge looked at Sabrina. ‘Have you suitable clothes for riding?’

‘Of course.’

‘Then I suggest you change as fast as you can.’ He headed for the door. ‘I’ll see you outside shortly.’

She needed no second bidding. Calling for Jacinta she issued swift instructions. Within minutes the necessary box was brought indoors and, after withdrawing to a private chamber, the two women stripped off their travelling dresses and pulled on breeches, boots and jackets.

‘You will need this.’ Jacinta handed Sabrina her sword and, while her mistress buckled it on, returned
for the case that held her pistols. ‘Primed and loaded,’ she observed.

‘Good.’ Sabrina thrust one into her waistband and gave her companion the other, before sliding a slim blade into her boot.

Jacinta picked up a wicked-looking dagger and fastened the sheath to her belt. Finally she took out two cloaks. ‘It gets cold in the hills at night.’

Hastily shoving their discarded clothing back in the box they took a final glance around. Sabrina glanced at her companion.

‘Let’s go.’

By the time they rejoined the others, the horses were saddled and ready. Blakelock had returned to the knoll behind the inn to watch the progress of the advancing force, and he returned at a run.

‘They’re about a mile away, sir, but if they’ve been pushing their horses hard it gives us an advantage.’

‘Then let’s make the most of it,’ said Falconbridge.

He saw Sabrina and Jacinta mounted and swung himself into the saddle of a rangy chestnut gelding. Then the whole party set off. For a while no one spoke. The pace was too swift anyway to admit of conversation and everyone was anxious to put as much space as possible between themselves and pursuit. At some instinctive level Sabrina knew their pursuer was Machart, and also knew what the consequences of capture would mean. In another part of her was determination not to let that happen, and she settled down to ride.

Having followed the road for another three miles or so they turned off and headed away across country towards the hills. With Ramon as their guide they followed little frequented tracks and sheep paths, using rocks and trees for cover.

‘It won’t take the Frenchman long to work out what we’ve done,’ said Falconbridge, ‘but while he does we’ll be moving well ahead of him.’

Sabrina regarded him steadily. ‘He strikes me as the sort who does not give up easily.’