Lady Emma's Campaign (20 page)

The next day, Emma hardly
noticed the steep slopes she climbed or the gravelly paths she slid down. She found it difficult to rally her smile when Marcos walked next to her, and she couldn’t focus on any conversation for longer than a few moments. Enrique had not returned, and a search was inconclusive. Had he left on his own, anxious to reach Tarifa? Or had he met with some misfortune? She knew she should be worried about him, but Enrique’s absence somehow decreased some of the tension in their group. Especially in regards to Sidney.

Emma’s chest ached, and her cheeks burned as she remembered their conversation the night before, the moment her elation at her fondest desire finally being realized was dashed. She lifted Nico, finding some measure of comfort in his small arms wrapping around her neck. She had made an utter fool of herself and didn’t know if she would ever recover from the mortification. Hopefully tomorrow they would reach Tarifa, and she could sail away from Spain, from Sidney, and from everything.

She looked ahead to where Serena walked next to Jim.
Princesa de Talavera
, Emma reminded herself. It was not surprising. Serena’s poise and grace made her the perfect candidate for the position. It did not take much for Emma to imagine her friend in a beautiful gown with her thick curls piled on her head, held with a jeweled diadem.

Holding Nico in front of her obstructed her view, and she stumbled over a rock.

Sidney caught her before she fell.

She hadn’t even noticed his approach. She mumbled some sort of thanks and turned away, but he did not release her.

Nico wiggled out of her arms and climbed into Sidney’s, freeing Emma from Sidney’s grasp but leaving her feeling exposed. She pulled the shawl around her shoulders, hurrying after the group.

“Emma.”

She fought down the rise of emotion brought on by his tone. Shaking her head, she did not turn but hurried forward, not trusting herself to speak.

Sidney easily matched her pace, catching her hand and stopping her. “Please, Emma. I cannot bear it if you will not speak to me.” The softness of his voice stopped her. It was not his fault she had humiliated herself.

She kept her eyes downward. “I do not want to fall behind the group.”

Sidney cupped her chin, lifting her face to meet his gaze. “Emma, I should have thought before I spoke. I am so sorry to have caused you any discomfort. Truly, such was not my intention.”

Emma lowered her gaze and nodded. She pulled away and continued walking.

Sidney walked next to her, clasping her fingers to avoid the bandages on her palms. “I cannot marry,” he said.

Emma’s stomach dropped. She had thought it would be impossible to feel any more humiliated. “Please, Sidney, you do not have to—”

“But I would explain myself. My father’s final admonition to me was to preserve my family’s name. I am responsible for ensuring that they do not fall to ruin. My brothers—”

“I know your brothers,” Emma said. She had been shocked when she’d found out that the Viscount of Stansbury and his arrogant family were Sidney’s relatives. Surely there were none among the
ton
as well dressed or as loose with their purse strings. The idea that they were so free with the money Sidney risked his very life for made her want to scream.

Sidney nodded. “I imagine you do. Then you understand why I cannot leave this livelihood. The expenses required to ensure that my family’s holdings don’t fall into debt are substantial.”

Emma remained quiet. It was not her place to criticize how the viscount and his family chose to expend their funds.

“I wish my circumstances were different. Truly, I do. In the last twenty years, I have spent only a few months in England. I would not condemn any woman to the fate of a sea captain’s wife.”

“You do not need to explain anything to me,” Emma said. “Especially matters of such a private nature as your family’s finances.”

“It is important for you to understand, Emma.”

Emma’s embarrassment had begun to dissipate, and creeping in to take its place was anger. Anger at herself for betraying her feelings so openly, anger at Sidney’s family for taking advantage of him in such a way, and anger at Sidney for allowing it. She stopped abruptly and turned to face him, pulling her hand from his grasp.

“Why is it important?” Emma said. “How can your family’s personal business be any of my affair?”

Sidney’s eyebrows shot up. “I only thought to explain myself. To set you at ease.” He adjusted his hold upon Nico, repositioning the musket beneath his arm. The boy had fallen asleep. “I seem to have done the opposite. It was not my intention to make you angry.”

“I am not angry. Why would I be angry?” Emma tried not to do anything as undignified as clench her fists or stomp her foot. “Because your brothers and their families have enormous estates and townhomes while you live in a small cabin aboard a warship with eight hundred men? Would I be angry that they attend parties and purchase expensive clothing while you dodge cannon fire and wear blood-stained uniforms?” Sidney’s mouth dropped open, but now that the words had begun to flow, Emma could no more stop them than catch spilled water. “If I were to be angry, it might be because while you were tortured and beaten in an enemy prison, William and Amelia wept for you.
I
wept for you. Upon hearing there was a chance you might be alive, my brother—
we
—immediately boarded a ship and came for you. All the while, the very people you sacrifice your happiness and your very life for, threw a grand ball for the entire
ton
.” Emma clapped her hand over her mouth as she realized the impropriety of her words. “I am sorry, Sidney. I should not have spoken so rashly.” She did not wait for a reply but gathered her skirts and ran to join Serena.

She made it a point to avoid Sidney for the remainder of the day. The climbing up and down rocky cliffs had become exhausting, and none of the party had the energy for talking.

It was late afternoon when they spotted Sierra del Niño. As they approached, they came upon a small mountain village. The entire town was a burned-out shell. Houses had been looted and destroyed. Evidence that this had been an army encampment for some time was scattered around in the form of cast-off bits of equipment and broken wagon wheels. Scars of campfires and wheel ruts marred the landscape.

A monastery stood on a hill above the town. The overgrowth and disrepair, visible even at a distance, testified that it was deserted.

As they neared the village, they could see the white stone buildings set against the lush green of the Sierra Cádiz Mountains. A bell tower rose from the church set prominently in the middle of town. The scene was picturesque but eerily silent.

They followed the road that led through the village and up to the other side of the valley. The high rocky peaks rose in front of them, and Marcos explained that beyond was
la frontera,
the plains that led to Tarifa. “We will accompany you to the other side of the town,” Marcos said.

The buildings were close together with narrow streets running haphazardly between them. Broken windows and absent doors created black holes in the white stone houses, reminding Emma of missing teeth. The plaza in front of the church seemed to be the only open space. A few rats scurrying through the shadows were the only sign of life in the quiet streets. Nico looked at the desolation with wide eyes, and Sidney lifted the boy onto his shoulders.

Emma hurried her pace and felt a wave of relief when they had left the empty buildings behind. Ahead, they had only one mountain peak. Tarifa was merely hours away.

Marcos stood silently, waiting for the remainder of the group. His lips were tight.

Emma thought how difficult it must be for him to see his beloved country in such turmoil. “I am sorry, Marcos. For Spain, for Acalá, your family . . .”

He gave her an appreciative smile. “If we do not feel pain, then we did not truly love, and for that knowledge, I am grateful.”

Emma studied his expression for a moment, wondering if he intended more with his words. She was unable to read anything but sorrow in his face.

He was silent a moment longer before he seemed to shake off his somber mood.

“It is here that we must leave you,” Marcos said. He lifted Emma’s hand, pressing a kiss to her fingers. “Though we did not meet under the most ideal of circumstances, I consider it a great honor to have made your acquaintance, Lady Emma.”

“Thank you. I do hope we meet again.” She dipped in a curtsey, made more difficult by her high boots.

Marcos turned to Serena, speaking to her in Spanish. He bowed deeply and formally, and she pressed a kiss to both of his cheeks in a gesture that seemed to Emma to be very ceremonial. Señor de Costales must know Serena’s true identity, Emma decided.

After ensuring they had adequate supplies to reach Tarifa and that Jim was recovered enough to walk, the irregulars departed the way they had come.

Emma and her small group of five looked at each other uncertainly for a moment before beginning their ascent of Sierra del Niño.

Serena linked her arm through Emma’s. “It is springtime,” she said sadly. “A village like this should be celebrating with flowers and Easter processionals.”

Emma did not have any words of comfort. It was as if this forlorn place had cast a shadow over them. They continued to walk in silence until they were over the hill and could no longer see the town through the trees. In front of them spread a prospect of woods interspersed with grassy meadows and farmland. Relief washed over Emma as she realized they would not need to climb any more mountains.

She looked ahead to where Sidney still carried Nico and wondered what he was thinking. She feared she had crossed a line, fracturing their friendship in a way that would never be repaired. The thought caused such pain in her already-aching heart that she gasped.

“Are you unwell, Emma?” Serena said.

“No. I am quite well.” She squeezed Serena’s arm and smiled.

Sidney halted. “Can you smell the sea?” he said when the remainder of the group joined him. Nico awoke, and Sidney spoke to him in Spanish. The boy sniffed loudly, and Sidney laughed, setting him down and ruffling his hair.

Smiling, Nico ran to Emma. “
Huelo el mar!
” he said.

“
Qué bueno
,” Emma responded, using a phrase that Serena had taught her. She glanced up to see Sidney’s eyes on her. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped when they heard a noise in the trees.

Sidney cocked his musket and started in the direction of the sound, and Jim pulled the women back.

Emma’s pulse sped up.

“There will be no need for such violence, Captain.” Enrique stepped out of the trees, and Emma relaxed.

Sidney however leveled the weapon at him. “Would you care to explain your whereabouts for the last fifteen hours, Señor?”

A smug grin spread across Enrique’s face that sent cold chills down Emma’s spine.

“Captain Fletcher, I suggest you lower your weapon immediately, or you might find that you dislike what Lieutenant Trenchard devises for the members of your little company.”

Emma’s knees shook, and Sidney’s face paled as the warden stepped from the trees, followed by three French soldiers.

“
Bonjour
,
mes amis.
”

Sidney fought the nauseating wave
of panic, knowing that it empowered the warden to see his fear. “Lieutenant,” he said, resuming his sarcastic demeanor. He smiled as he was shoved to his knees and disarmed. “It has simply been too long. And I see we share a mutual acquaintance—not that I should be surprised to find Señor Trevino is an
afrancesado
. He is certainly too cowardly to be a patriot for his count—” A kick to the stomach stopped his dialogue, as he folded over. Another kick beneath his jaw sent him sprawling.

Nico cried out and tried to run to him, but Jim grabbed the boy, practically throwing him at Emma, who pressed his face against her shoulder, whispering to him and stroking his hair.

Sidney spoke to keep the warden’s attention on himself. “Ah, Lieutenant, we have been through this countless times. There is no treas—”

After a few more blows, Lieutenant Trenchard left Sidney in the care of his soldiers, one pressed a musket to his head, and the other stepped a booted foot upon his chest.

The lieutenant turned his attention to the remainder of the party. He pushed Jim to the ground, pulling the knife and scabbard from his belt and thrusting them toward a soldier, who bound the colonel’s hands.

Jim remained silent, his face defiant, but Sidney knew the man well enough to see the pain that hovered around his eyes.

The women cringed away from the warden when he stepped toward them. “Hola, Princesa,” he sneered with a crude gesture.

To Serena’s credit, she did no more than raise an eyebrow.

“Señor Trevino,” the warden said, “you were correct in your theory about this prisoner. If I had only known, I would have sold her to Napoleon myself, but as I promised, she is your prize.
Madame le guillotine
is not concerned with how she obtains her victims.”

“
Merci
, Lieutenant,” Enrique said, walking toward Serena. Jim began to struggle, but Enrique struck him in the head as he stepped past.

Jim crumpled to the ground, and Serena moved toward him with a scream.

Enrique caught her arm, but she tore it from his grasp. His face twisted in an ugly expression, and a vein bulged in his neck. He struck Serena across the cheek and grabbed her arm again. “You will find, Princesa, that our time together will be much more agreeable if you will learn to obey.”

Nico’s terrified sobs were the only sound in the small clearing.

Lieutenant Trenchard stood for a moment, studying Emma and the boy before he spoke. “And here we have the weak link. The colonel and the noblewoman can be ransomed, the princesa sold to the republic, and Captain Fletcher possesses knowledge making him invaluable. But
ce garçon 
. . .” He pulled Nico roughly away from Emma and held the kicking boy in the air by the yoke of his shirt.

“Nico!” Emma screamed reaching for him.

The lieutenant pushed Emma toward a soldier, who left the unconscious Jim and held her as she strained to get to the terrified child.

Sidney tried to rise but was pressed back to the ground. His breath burned in his throat as he seethed with helpless rage.

“
S’il vous plaît, Mousieur.
” Emma was shaking. “Please. Do not hurt him. My brother is Lord Lockwood, I promise he will—”

At the lieutenant’s signal, a hand was clamped over Emma’s mouth.

Serena began a tirade in Spanish but was silenced by another blow from Enrique.

“Mademoiselles, the last thing we need on our little expedition is a crying child.” He began to draw his sword, and Emma strained harder. She elbowed the man in the chest and stomped on his foot, lunging toward Lieutenant Trenchard, but the soldier didn’t release his grasp. Sidney could hear her screams and sobs, muffled by the soldier, and see the tears dripping from her face.

“Enough,” Sidney said in the voice he used to command eight hundred men. Even from his position, prone upon his back with weapons held against him, his tone caused all activity to cease. He continued in a low voice. “I will take you to the treasure, Monsieur. But you will not harm one hair upon the boy’s head, or our arrangement ends.”

All eyes moved to the lieutenant. He lowered the boy slowly to the ground.

The soldier released Emma, and Nico raced to the comfort of her embrace. She sat on the ground, cradling him in her lap and rocking him back and forth while they both wept.

Sidney stood, holding himself straight despite the new pains in his body. He spoke calmly, though inside his heart raced. He had no doubt that the lieutenant would have murdered Nico. Seeing a child he had grown to love nearly butchered by his enemy—and the thought of what it would have done to Emma—was transforming his terror into blind rage. He struggled to control the fury he felt, turning it instead, as he had so often done, into single-minded clarity. He focused upon one objective. He must save his companions, at any cost.

“Lieutenant, it will be dark in less than one hour, and I suggest finding shelter as it will rain tonight. We have a long day of marching if we hope to reach Baelo Claudia tomorrow.”

“Baelo Claudia?” The lieutenant looked toward Enrique.

“Roman ruins near Tarifa,” Enrique told him.

“And this is where we will find the treasure?” Lieutenant Trenchard asked Sidney.

“Yes.” Sidney felt the ugly clenching in his chest as he revealed the very information the lieutenant had tried to rip from him through months of torture. He was repulsed at having to disregard the promise he’d made to himself—never to break, never to tell. But he knew he’d do it again in a heartbeat to protect Nico.

Lieutenant Trenchard smiled. He and Enrique moved out of earshot to deliberate, and Sidney studied the three soldiers. By the lazy way they held their weapons, he could tell they were untrained, yet he could sense a ruthlessness in their demeanor, no doubt the reason Lieutenant Trenchard recruited them. The three of them stood casually about, apparently trusting that their weapons held enough sway over their prisoners that they did not need to stand at attention. None of them seemed to give any thought to sentry duty.

Serena knelt next to Jim, attempting to wake him. Emma and Nico moved to stand next to Sidney. Nico wrapped his arms around Sidney’s leg, and though his hands were bound behind his back, Sidney did his best to comfort the boy with words.

Emma touched Sidney’s face, which he just realized was bleeding.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice catching.

Sidney’s heart, which he had just managed to calm, began to race again, but this time, the sensation was not unpleasant. He had no regrets about giving up the treasure’s location. He would do anything to keep her safe.

They turned at the sound of Jim’s moan. Serena was helping him to sit up.

“Blast that Spaniard,” Jim muttered.

When Enrique and the lieutenant returned, they informed the party that they would be traveling back to Sierra del Niño, the mountain village, to bivouac in the monastery. Sidney held back a smile. The men were doing precisely as he had hoped.

They marched back the way they’d come, through the green valley, which did not seem as beautiful when one was bound and being led at gunpoint. The soldiers seemed decidedly uneasy as they passed the deserted village, and more than once Sidney heard them mention the word
fantôme
. They were scared of ghosts.

The monastery was a maze of rooms and hallways which the soldiers gave only a cursory glance—checking for anything that could be used as a weapon or any windows low enough to climb through—before leaving the prisoners and adjourning to the entrance hall. Sidney was sure, as he’d seen the shoddy manner in which the prison was administrated, that the soldiers would not be overly vigilant in their guard duties once the perimeter was secured. It only took a moment for Emma and Serena to remove the bindings from the mens’ wrists.

Jim lay down and was slumbering within minutes.

Emma lay out Nico’s bed roll in a corner of the large dining hall and set about calming the child for sleep.

Serena lay down next to them.

Lieutenant Trenchard entered the room, and Nico sprung into Emma’s arms. Serena sat up, scooting against the wall.

“I do not anticipate any trouble from you tonight,” he said to the group, “but I shall keep the child with me to ensure that none of you attempt to escape.” He reached for Nico, who began to wail, clinging to Emma’s neck.

Sidney stepped toward them, prepared to intervene.

The lieutenant’s lip curled in disgust. Apparently the idea of enduring a crying child all night was not something he looked forward to. “
D’accord
,” he said, his gaze moving from the boy to the rest of them. “You know what is at stake.”

Sidney waited until the lieutenant had left the room and then followed him, making sure he had indeed joined his companions. When Sidney came back into the dining hall, he sat next to Emma, who was rocking and whispering to Nico. He overheard her soft voice and recognized the words, “
No eres solo. Me preocupo por ti. Voy a mantenerte a salvo
.”

For a moment, he smiled and lost himself in the lightness that such a sight produced in his chest, but a shadow of worry crept into his mind. His plan would never work if Emma did not trust him implicitly. And after all that had happened the night before, he was no longer sure such a thing was possible.