Lady Emma's Campaign (9 page)

A man stood in the
clearing with his hands raised.

Sidney shoved him to the ground, knelt upon him, and squeezed his throat with one hand. In his other hand, Sidney held his sword, poised above the man’s face.

The man’s eyes were wide and terrified. His words were strained because Sidney’s grip on his neck was quite strong. “Señor, please. I did not mean to startle you. I was a prisoner also. You must remember me. Enrique Luis Trevino-Reyes at your service.”

Sidney’s heart pounded. It frightened him how close he had come to killing this man who had done no more than surprise him. His time in the prison had obviously made him skittish and distrustful. Didn’t this man know better than to creep up on a soldier? He pressed his lips together, frustrated at his lack of control.

“I heard you speak of Tarifa—” Enrique said.

“Then you heard too much,” Sidney brought the point of the sword closer to the man’s neck.

“Tarifa is my home. I only want to join your party.”

He studied the man’s face. Enrique Trevino certainly looked familiar, but he obviously hadn’t been at the prison long as he did not look gaunt and pale, and his clothing was relatively clean.

Sidney looked to Jim, who had leapt to his feet as well and now leaned heavily against the trunk of a tree. Jim shrugged.

“Do you recognize this man, Señorita Alvarez?” Sidney spoke without turning around.

“Sí,” Serena answered. “He tells the truth. He was at the prison also. But I do not know why.”

The man had no doubt been eavesdropping on them if he knew their destination. Sidney wondered exactly what he had heard and why he had not made himself known sooner. He loosened his hand upon Enrique’s throat but did not lower his sword. “How did you escape from Matagorda, Señor Trevino?”

Enrique gesticulated with his hands as he spoke. “In the confusion from the fire and the battle, I followed the guards as they chased you through the gates of the fort. I saw the direction you ran and hoped I would find you.”

Sidney narrowed his eyes. The man had followed him unnoticed? Had the guards been so intent upon recapturing Sidney that they had not spotted another prisoner escaping? They were poorly trained if this was the case. Enrique’s story was odd but not impossible. After all, Sidney had escaped in much the same manner himself.

He lowered his sword. “Were you followed?”

“No, Señor.” The relief was evident upon Enrique’s face when the weapon was no longer pointed at him. “This is why I took so long to find you, I wanted to be sure.”

Sidney nodded, though he doubted this extravagantly dressed man with his white skin and flaccid muscles had the training to be certain of anything of the sort.

“Señor, I can help you reach Tarifa.” Enrique’s gaze moved over Jim and the two women. “It is far safer for me to travel with others, and I know the best routes. Please, sir, allow me to accompany you.”

Though he hated to admit it, Sidney knew there was wisdom in Enrique’s words. He still didn’t like the idea of a stranger joining their party, but he had two women and an injured soldier to transport through the Spanish mountains. Another able-bodied man, especially one who knew the area, would be more than beneficial. He held out a hand to help Enrique to his feet.

Enrique bowed elegantly as he was introduced to the women. Sidney shot him a look, and the Spaniard stepped away and studied the dirt beneath his nails. Sidney set about distributing the gear, making sure to watch the newcomer closely. He did not like how Enrique looked at the women, and Spanish men were notorious for their flirting.

He was grateful that Doctor Sharpe had been so quick to procure some basic supplies from his regiment, mostly cooking elements and some food. Sidney kept the Brown Bess musket, along with the sword since he didn’t trust Enrique with a weapon and Jim was too ill to use it. Sidney gave Jim a short blade that the colonel strapped in its scabbard upon his belt. He loaded the majority of the equipment into the knapsack, which he hefted onto his back, and gave Serena and Enrique each a haversack containing some salt pork and hard tack biscuits.

Sidney handed Emma a small sack. She followed Serena’s example and slung it over her head and under one arm. Serena helped her stuff the boots with pieces of cloth since they were too large for Emma’s feet. The sight of her soft, airy dress hanging over a dirty pair of boots must have caused her some anxiety, as she repeatedly moved her skirts to hide them. It was on the tip of Sidney’s tongue to tell her that it did not matter—her dress was already quite ruined—but he thought better of it.

Emma seemed to be resigned to the situation. In fact, her face showed hardly any emotion at all, which concerned Sidney more than if she’d thrown a tantrum or wept.

Once the group was ready, Sidney led them through the forest, away from the battle in the direction Jim instructed. Sidney and Enrique took turns supporting the colonel, even though he protested, claiming that he could walk on his own.

When they reached the edge of the trees, Sidney conferred with Jim. The doctor had assured him that the French troops were not encamped so far east, but there was still the danger of being spotted by scouts.

“We could wait until nightfall,” Sidney said. “It would give you a chance to rest.”

“Every minute we are not moving away from the fort increases the probability of recapture,” Jim answered, leaning against a tree. “I will not rest easy until we have put miles behind us.”

Sidney nodded. He studied the terrain outside of the forest. Wide-open plains dotted with loose rock stretched toward steep mountains in the distance. He knew that Jim intended to make it as far as the foothills before dark, but the route would not be easily negotiated.

Sidney wished for his spy glass as he squinted toward the horizon, searching the hills for any sight of enemy lookouts. French soldiers or thieves could be hiding anywhere, even in the same shadows at the edge of the woods, and would shoot without provocation. He could not be too careful leading the group from the safety of the trees. Finally, loading his musket and holding it at the ready, he moved to step out of the cover of the forest.

The sound of Emma’s voice stopped him.

“Wait. Can we not stay in the forest until dark?” She turned purposely to avoid Jim’s line of sight. “Please? What if French soldiers are just waiting to fire at us?”

Sidney stepped toward her. “There are none close enough that we have to worry about their aim. The battle is behind us, and we will be safer the farther we are from it.” He reached out to lift her chin with his crooked finger. “I need you to be a soldier, Emma. Will you do that?”

She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself and drawing her eyebrows together.

Sidney led them from the forest slowly. They walked silently, watching the hills. But, though Sidney and Jim remained alert, scanning for any threat, the rest of the party allowed their caution to wane and finally vanish as those first tense minutes stretched into hours of trudging over the hard ground. At first, they stayed close in a small clump, but as time passed, they stretched into an irregular line. Sidney led the way, supporting Jim, and for a while, the women walked together, but eventually, boredom led to a change in positions. When Sidney stopped next to a boulder to allow Jim to rest, he saw Serena walking alone and Enrique escorting Emma.

Emma stumbled slightly, and Enrique reached out to steady her, holding on to her elbow. She rewarded him with a smile, and Sidney’s gut clenched. What did he really know about this man? Enrique was not a soldier. That much was obvious by the way he walked—
pranced
was more like it. His manners were refined and his gestures grandiose. A Spanish dandy, Sidney decided. No doubt women swooned over his handsome looks with his long, straight hair, and thin mustache. What was a gentleman such as Enrique doing imprisoned in a French fort? Sidney resolved to find out as soon as possible. He needed to protect not only the women but
all
of them from Enrique, should he prove to be planning some sort of deceit.

In William’s absence, Sidney was Emma’s guardian, and he did not like the way Enrique walked so close to her or managed to find reasons to touch her.

Enrique held one of Emma’s hands as she used the other to lift her skirts high enough to step over a pile of rocks.

“A woman doesn’t fancy a man like him for long.” Jim lifted his chin toward Emma and Enrique.

“Pardon me?” Sidney said.

“Look at how he pampers her, treats her like a child. Lady Emma no doubt has her share of people who coddle her. What she needs is someone to challenge her, allows her to accomplish difficult things. There’s a woman who needs to feel strong.”

“What makes you think she’s the sort of person who needs to prove herself? Perhaps she enjoys being taken care of.” Sidney looked back at Emma. All he could see was a delicate young woman in a setting completely unsuited to her. She should be somewhere comfortable and beautiful, not in a perilous war zone.

Jim turned to look at him. “She’s here, isn’t she? I’d say that is precisely the type of woman she wants to be. Though it will take some hard experiences for her to become so.”

Sidney watched Enrique and Emma as they drew closer. “And how is it that you know so much about women, Colonel?”

“Not merely women, sir. In my military career, it has been useful to understand the inner workings of people’s minds. Such a thing is particularly advantageous in . . . obtaining information. All people have a need. They often do not know what it is themselves, but once you discover it, you can either use it to your advantage or theirs.”

Sidney’s stomach churned as he listened to Jim. He knew firsthand the psychology that went into interrogations, and he was glad that he and the colonel were on the same side. He had no doubt that Jim could be ruthless, and combined with his intuition when it came to understanding the human psyche, he would be a formidable enemy.

Jim took a drink from the canteen. “Señorita Alvarez was much the same a few months ago. I predict Lady Emma will take a similar course.”

Serena, Enrique, and Emma joined them, and the group took the opportunity to rest for a moment.

Emma moved toward one of the large boulders. Enrique hurriedly brushed the surface off and laid his coat on it for her to sit upon. Emma thanked him and scooted to the side, smoothing the coat next to her. Enrique moved as if to sit beside her, but Emma, apparently unaware, called instead for Serena to join her. Enrique pursed his lips, standing awkwardly to one side as the women talked.

Sidney smiled. As he watched the interchange, he thought about what Jim had said. He knew Emma had been sheltered by her family, especially her mother, no doubt as a consequence of her father’s cruelty. He wondered how she managed to endure years of fear and abuse. He had heard from William that their father had mistreated Emma and Lady Charlotte dreadfully, though William had not told him any specifics. How had she managed to remain so gentle and sweet-tempered when merely two months of ill-treatment had left Sidney feeling irreparably damaged? He didn’t know if he would ever be restored to his former self. Would he always be mistrustful and paranoid? He was constantly on alert, scanning the people and area around him. Just the thought of finding himself trapped or being caught off guard set his heart racing, caused labored breathing, and sent him spiraling into a complete panic.

His mind wandered back to Emma. Perhaps Jim was right. It was possible that accomplishing things without assistance gave her the strength she needed to combat the pain of her past and to defeat the feelings of worthlessness that such maltreatment caused. Maybe that was the reason she had come to Spain in the first place.

Sidney watched as Emma chatted with Serena. She seemed to be putting on a brave face, trying to make the best of things. When Jim offered the women the canteen, she took a sip and then wrinkled her nose in an expression that reminded Sidney of a petulant child as she tasted the stale water. But the moment she replaced the cap and stood, turning her head to the side and smiling at him, the realization that she was no longer William’s little sister but a grown woman hit him with a force that surprised him.

“This next stretch will be particularly difficult,” Jim said, interrupting Sidney’s thoughts. “The salt marshes. But just a few more hours will put us at a good location to make camp.”

At his words, Emma closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Sidney hid a smile and moved past the women to assist Jim.

“I’m not crippled,” Jim grumbled when Sidney offered his hand. “It’s only a headache.” But he allowed Sidney to help him stand and did not complain when he walked close enough that Jim could hold on to his arm.

Their path led through a wet plain. Vegetation grew sparser. The salt water had killed the flora in the region. The dark mud was streaked with white veins of dried salt. Broken sticks and dead plants stuck out of the ground in various spots. The marshland was mosquito infested, sweltering, and the odor was terrible. Beads of sweat trickled down Sidney’s back; his legs burned as he slogged his way through the smelly marsh. As they walked, the mud became increasingly sticky and difficult to maneuver through. He assumed the others were equally miserable.

Sidney turned his head to evaluate the group’s progress just as Emma’s boot became trapped in the mud, and her foot slipped out. She lost her balance and swayed for a moment, crying out, and then plopping hard in the mud.

Sidney, Serena, and Enrique all started toward her.

“Emma, are you hurt?” Sidney called from where he stood with Jim.

Emma shook her head. She looked stunned but unharmed. A moment later, however, her face crumpled, and her shoulders began to shake.

“It’s remarkable she held out so long,” Jim said, dryly. “I expected this hours ago.”

Sidney ignored his sarcasm, handed the colonel his musket, and made his way through the sticky mud toward Emma.

She bent her head to wipe her eyes with the backs of her gloved hands. Her shoulders shook, and the sight of her trying not to weep tore at Sidney’s heart.