Redemption of a Fallen Woman (2 page)

Chapter Two

W
hen Harry arrived in the
salón
just before the appointed hour, it was to find Don Manuel already present. With him were four others. The two gentlemen, both with greying hair, appeared to be in their late forties. Both were of short stature and tending to corpulence. The two ladies looked older and both were expensively if severely gowned in black. If either ever had pretensions to beauty it was no longer evident. Nor was this deficiency ameliorated by their haughty and unsmiling demeanour. Don Manuel introduced them as his sisters, Doña Inéz and Doña Urraca. The gentlemen, Don Fernando and Don Esteban, were cousins.

As the introductions were performed Harry made a formal bow. Doña Inéz inclined her head in acknowledgement and offered a faint condescending smile that stopped well short of her dark eyes.

‘You honour us with your presence, Lord Henry. I trust that your journey here was satisfactory.’

‘Thank you, yes.’

‘I do not care to travel myself,’ she replied. ‘It is too fatiguing and the state of the roads leaves much to be desired.’

He agreed that they did. Thus encouraged, Doña Inéz went on to cover the hazards of ruts, dust, brigands and heatstroke. She was just embarking on a comprehensive condemnation of all the inns she had ever stayed in, when the
salón
door opened again. Harry glanced round and then, as he set eyes on the newcomer, all other thoughts went out of his head.

Elena paused on the threshold, hoping that her composure wouldn’t desert her now. Concha was right; it was important to play along for a while. Her gaze swept the room in distaste. With their dark clothing her relatives reminded her of nothing so much as a gathering of crows around their prey. They had shown about the same amount of compassion too. Then she noticed the tall figure standing beside Aunt Inéz. The man had his back to her but, as the conversation died down around him, he glanced round to find the reason.

Elena caught her breath, recognising him at once. However, that former fleeting glance through the window hadn’t done him justice; to begin with he made all the other men in the room look short, even her uncle. The lean, broad-shouldered frame suggested both strength and energy and was shown off to advantage by formal evening dress. It was severe, almost austere, and a perfect complement for his dark hair. The face, which she had formerly thought arresting, was rather more than that, like the cool grey eyes that were now surveying her steadily. The effect was to create an odd fluttering sensation in the pit of her stomach.

The silence intensified. Then her uncle stepped forward. ‘Lord Henry, may I present my niece Elena?’

Harry stared, taking in the slender and willowy figure in the deep red gown. Ebony hair framed a face whose sculptural beauty was accentuated by a complexion that reminded him of ivory and roses. Her brown eyes were flecked with purest amber and, just then, expressive of some strong emotion that resisted precise identification. Curiosity stirred. Then, recollecting his manners, he made his bow.

She returned a graceful curtsey. ‘I’m delighted to meet you, my lord.’

‘The pleasure is mine,’ he replied, with perfect sincerity.

‘May I ask what brings you to Madrid?’

He summarised his mission briefly. ‘Your uncle has kindly offered his assistance.’

‘Then I hope his enquiries will be successful.’

‘Thank you, although after all this time I dare not hold out great hope.’

‘Even a little hope is better than none,’ she replied.

‘You are right, of course.’ He smiled wryly. ‘But enough about business for now. Tell me something of yourself. For instance, do you reside here with your uncle or are you just visiting?’

Before she could reply, Doña Inéz interposed. ‘My niece is visiting for a short while only.’

Beneath the irritation caused by that unwarranted interruption, he was conscious of a stab of something much like disappointment. ‘What a pity.’

‘It is a necessary deprivation for us all,’ said Doña Inéz, ‘since, in a few days’ time, she is to enter a convent and commence her novitiate.’

Elena made no reply, although her dark eyes revealed a brief flash of anger, then were swiftly veiled.

Harry was dumbfounded. The very idea that such a lovely young woman should become a nun seemed absurd—more than absurd, a criminal waste. Then he reflected that customs were different here, and that if she had such a vocation she should be entitled to follow it. Besides, it was none of his business.

‘In that case,’ he replied, ‘I wish you well on your chosen path.’

Elena looked up and again he caught that flash of anger in her eyes. However, her face remained otherwise impassive.

‘Thank you. That is most kind.’

The smooth tone held an inflection that was much like irony, and in spite of himself his curiosity mounted. He would have liked to pursue it, but not in Doña Inéz’s company. Unfortunately she showed no sign of moving away. The woman was acting like a strict
dueña
, almost as though she were mounting guard over her niece, though goodness only knew what she thought might happen in a room full of people.

Just then dinner was announced and Don Manuel suggested he might like to take Doña Inéz in. Good manners dictated gracious acquiescence. To his chagrin he found himself seated next to the lady at table as well. Elena took her place opposite, beside Don Fernando.

The conversation at table ranged over various topics, all of them innocuous. Everyone was perfectly civil and nothing could have been more refined than their manners, but Harry became aware of something rather different underneath, an undercurrent of tension that he couldn’t pin down. He reminded himself again that it was none of his business, that he had come here to obtain proof of Jamie’s death. Interference in family politics was no part of his plan.

After the meal, when the ladies had withdrawn, and the gentlemen had settled down to their port and cigars, the conversation turned to other matters. Harry listened politely, though in truth his mind was preoccupied with his quest rather than the current political situation. It was only the mention of Elena’s name that drew his attention squarely back to the company.

‘...and so, after we have seen her safely admitted to the convent, I must return to my estates,’ said Don Fernando. ‘There are matters requiring my attention.’

Their host nodded. ‘Of course. It was good of you to take the time to come at all.’

‘I felt it to be my duty.’

‘A duty we all share,’ said Don Esteban. ‘The restoration of our family honour is dear to us all. A life of reflection and piety will atone for sin.’

Harry’s glass paused in mid-air and he shot a quizzical glance at the speaker. Don Manuel intercepted it.

‘You are no doubt shocked, my lord, that sin should be mentioned in the same context as my niece.’

‘I was surprised,’ Harry admitted, wondering what possible sin so lovely a creature could have committed. He could think of a few that men might want to commit with her, but such a thing would be unthinkable for a highborn young woman and one so zealously guarded.

‘My niece’s story is not one that we would wish to be generally known.’ Don Manuel eyed him keenly. ‘I am sure we may rely on your discretion.’

‘Of course.’

‘When Elena was eighteen she was betrothed to a nobleman of high standing, indeed one of the highest in the land. Unfortunately it was during a period in the war when the action intensified. My brother-in-law, her father, was killed by enemy soldiers. His death fired a young girl’s imagination with misplaced patriotic zeal and she ran off and joined a
guerrilla
band.’

Harry regarded him in genuine amazement. Whatever he might have imagined it wasn’t that, but then Elena seemed to defy convention in every way.

‘War affects people strangely,’ he replied, mentally including himself in that category.

Don Manuel nodded. ‘Many unfortunate events occur in times of conflict and, goodness knows, our country has seen enough of such things. They leave a bitter legacy.’

‘Yes, they do.’ Harry felt his gut tighten. The topic came too close to home, reviving memories he’d tried to bury.

‘Elena’s sisters were models of exemplary conduct. They were originally intended for marriage but, after their father’s death, they chose to enter a convent. She did neither of those things, electing instead to live with a group of men like any common drab.’

Harry barely managed to conceal his astonishment. It seemed quite incongruous to think of Elena in such a role. He had seen quite a few common drabs in his time—the army had its camp followers—but she didn’t resemble them in any way.

‘In fighting for her country her role was perhaps unusual,’ he replied, ‘but surely not dishonourable.’

‘For a woman to take up arms is unnatural. That she should live among men in that way is utterly shameless.’

Harry was tempted to probe further. Had Elena taken a lover from among the
guerrilla
band? It was entirely possible and yet it didn’t seem consistent with what he had seen. She was courteous and friendly but there was not the least hint of flirtatiousness in her manner. All the same, he knew better than to ask. Instead he shifted the focus of the conversation a little.

‘What of her betrothed?’

‘When he learned of her shame he ended the betrothal.’

‘I see.’

‘Elena remained with the
guerrillas
for two years.’ Don Manuel made a vague gesture with his hand. ‘Of course, there is no possibility of marriage for her now, and she cannot be permitted to live as a single woman. Such a thing is unheard of. The only honourable course is for her to enter a convent.’

‘We have arranged it,’ said Don Fernando.

Harry’s fingers tightened on the stem of his glass. ‘Am I to understand that Doña Elena is not in accord with this plan?’

‘She is a wilful and stubborn young woman who has erred most grievously,’ Don Fernando replied. ‘It is the responsibility of her family to put a stop to such folly. The convent will do the rest. It is a closed order and a strict one. From now on she will lead a life of piety and prayer away from the eyes of the world.’

Don Esteban nodded. ‘The discipline will be highly beneficial and will help her to atone for her behaviour. In time she will come to realise that our decision was made in her own best interests.’

Harry’s jaw tightened. There were many things he could have said, indeed wanted to say, but he bit them back even though it went against the grain. The affair was none of his business. Things were done differently here and much stricter controls exerted on young women of good family. Nor was it uncommon for daughters to be given to God, with or without their consent. The latter proposition had always rankled with him. Entry into the religious life through choice was one thing; entry under compulsion was quite another. To use a convent as a means of incarceration was indefensible in his eyes, and he pitied any young woman caught in that situation.

‘The family are gathered to witness the ceremony of admission,’ Don Esteban went on. ‘When it has taken place we shall all breathe easier.’

Don Fernando nodded. ‘Indeed we shall.’

The conversation remained with Harry long after he had left the company and retired to his room. More than ever their plan seemed like a criminal act even though, in the eyes of the law, it was perfectly legal. It was certainly a criminal waste. He had no illusions about why it was happening in spite of all the pious cant he had heard that evening. In the eyes of her family Elena had become a liability and they meant to put her quietly away for good. It was a harsh penalty for something that, presumably, had been a matter of conscience. However, war spawned many atrocities.

Harry shut his eyes, trying not to think about Badajoz, but the darkness was suddenly filled with flames and gunfire and the shouts of drunken soldiers—British soldiers. For three days they had run amok in an orgy of murder, arson, rapine and plunder. Filthy, blood-stained, crazy with drink and consumed with greed, they spared none. When their officers tried to intervene the mob turned on them too. He swallowed hard, feeling sweat start on the palms of his hands, once again watching helplessly as a man fell under a rain of blows from the butt ends of muskets, the scene backlit by the ruddy glow of burning buildings. And in one of those buildings was Belén....

Work held the memories at bay most of the time, along with the social round. For a while it was possible to forget. It was only when he lay in bed at night that the memories revived, often in terrifying dreams. Time had helped, of course, but had never entirely eradicated them. And then fate had taken a hand and brought him back to Spain....

He turned over and thumped the pillow hard. In spite of everything, he had promised Ross to do all in his power to find the proof they needed about Jamie’s death. But what if the proof he sought couldn’t be found? What if Sanchez was dead now? Harry pushed the thought away, unwilling to contemplate the thought of failure. Too much hung in the balance. He had a job to do and past demons couldn’t be allowed to get in the way.

Chapter Three

I
t was pleasantly warm in the garden, the morning air scented by late roses in the borders adjoining the high walls. Elena scanned the latter covertly. Without a rope or a ladder there was no way to scale them; the gate that led into the lane beyond was made of iron-studded oak and kept securely locked. In spite of its shrubs and flowering beds and attractive fountain, the garden was as much a prison as the house.

She had carefully reconnoitred the property as far as she had been able, making a note of all doors and windows. Concha had filled in the gaps, assessing those areas frequented by the servants.

‘All the downstairs windows are barred, Doña Elena. The only possibility is to use one of the bedrooms, preferably the one that looks out over the lane yonder.’ Concha jerked her head towards the garden wall that bordered the narrow roadway in question.

‘My thought exactly.’

‘A pair of knotted sheets should serve. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time, would it?’

‘Hardly.’

‘The only problem is that the Englishman is currently using that bedroom.’

The Englishman! Elena bit her lip. Heaven knew she had met enough of them, but this man was different somehow. Everything about him proclaimed noble birth and education, but it was more than that. He lingered in the mind, conjuring all manner of unexpected and disturbing thoughts. Of course, such a man would attract the attention of women. It shocked her to find that she was not immune, after all. With an effort she forced herself to concentrate on what Concha was saying.

‘We’ll find a way. We have to.’

Elena nodded. ‘Yes, we do.’

‘I made sure to pack all the necessary clothing before we came. I put it in the bottom of my own box. I thought it less likely to be searched. The weapons are concealed in the usual place.’

‘Well done. What would I do without you, Concha?’

The maid regarded her steadily. ‘I think the boot is on the other foot. But for your honoured father my mother would have hanged and I would have perished. His compassion saved us both and gave us the chance of a future.’

‘Some future,’ said Elena. ‘Look where your loyalty has brought you. Your mother is dead and you...’

‘We have been through many trials together, you and I, and we will come through this. After all, we have escaped captivity before, and we have been threatened by experts, no?’

‘True.’

‘Remember El Lobo and his bandit thugs, to say nothing of the French?’

‘How could I forget?’

‘Well, then, how should your relatives intimidate you now?’

Elena grinned. ‘You’re right, of course. I...’

She broke off as her companion gave her arm a warning squeeze. Darting a glance along the path, she fully expected to see one of her aunts approaching. Instead it was a very different figure that hove into sight, a lean and virile figure whose presence caused her pulse to quicken. She drew a deep breath, collecting herself. Then she rose to greet him.

‘Lord Henry. What a pleasant surprise.’

Surveying her now Harry thought he could say the same. The blue morning gown became her well, emphasising the curves of her figure and enhancing her warm colouring and the lustrous coils of dark hair. This close proximity did nothing to abate the admiration he had felt at their first meeting, on the contrary. London had its share of beauties, but none who held his attention and certainly none who had such a very kissable mouth. She aroused sensations he’d imagined long dead. He caught himself there. This woman had no interest in him and anyway she was destined for a convent. All thoughts about her physical charms were completely inappropriate. Feeling distinctly guilty now, he adopted an expression of polite attention.

‘It seemed too fine a day to remain indoors. I hope I’m not disturbing you.’

‘Oh, no, not at all.’

‘This is a pleasant garden,’ he went on. ‘I don’t wonder that you should choose to sit out here.’

‘I prefer to be out of doors as a rule.’

‘So do I.’ He paused, unwilling to lose her company but not wishing to overstep the bounds of propriety either. He was well aware that the place was visible from the house and that if he invited Elena to sit with him it might well be misconstrued. Something more subtle was required. ‘I wonder if you would care to walk a little way.’

Elena hesitated but then inclined her head in acquiescence. ‘As you wish. Concha, you will accompany us.’

Harry hid a grimace. The maid was entirely
de trop
but, under the circumstances, an inescapable encumbrance.

As they set off Elena was careful to keep a foot of clear space between them. Concha fell in behind at a discreet distance. If anyone were to observe them from the house it was all above reproach. They strolled a little way in silence, though from time to time Elena shot a sideways glance at her companion. His proximity made her feel self-conscious—aware of his closeness to her fingertips, a feeling so unaccustomed that she felt unwontedly awkward.

‘I regret the need for a chaperone,’ she said then. ‘It isn’t because I don’t trust you.’

He smiled. ‘I’m glad to hear it.’

‘It’s just that I must be seen to observe the required forms of behaviour. My aunts...’

‘You don’t have to explain. I understand perfectly.’

She gave him another sideways look. ‘Do you?’

Unwilling to reveal his knowledge about her past, he slid over it. ‘Your admission to the convent is to take place very soon, I collect.’

She nodded. ‘My uncle has arranged it.’

The words jarred and aroused a sense of impotent anger. Suddenly he wanted to find out more, to hear Elena’s side of the matter.

‘And how do you feel about the new life you are about to enter?’

‘As a man might feel on learning that he is to be imprisoned for the rest of his life.’

The words confirmed what he had suspected from the conversation at table the previous evening. It made the implications all the more unpalatable.

‘Then you have no vocation?’

‘No vocation, or even a belief in God any more. However, that makes no difference to my family.’

He heard the suppressed anger in her tone, saw it in her eyes. He could well understand it too. More than ever the whole business seemed criminal.

‘I’m truly sorry. Is there nothing that can be done to change their minds?’

‘They are quite resolved and will not bend.’

‘They might show some compassion.’

‘They have none. I am twenty-three years old, unmarried and with no prospect of being so. I am therefore a liability they mean to be rid of, and a convent is the ideal place. The method is respectable, discreet and permanent.’

He knew she was right and, even though it was none of his affair, he could not help but feel pity for her predicament and disgust for the perpetrators.

Elena lifted her chin. ‘I think that you have heard quite enough of my woes. Let us speak of something else.’

‘Certainly.’

‘Tell me about your brother, the one whose death has occasioned this visit. I think you must have been very fond of him to travel so great a distance.’

‘Jamie was the brother I looked up to most. He was a hero to me when we were younger. I wanted to be just like him.’ He smiled wryly. ‘It always seemed like a big pair of shoes to fill.’

The smile, albeit transitory, suggested hidden warmth behind the cool English reserve. She sensed there was more here than met the eye and was intrigued.

‘Have you other brothers and sisters?’

‘Two sisters and three brothers, although Jamie is gone now and the youngest, Edward, died at Waterloo.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘It was a terrible blow to all the family, but our father took it hardest. He’d already lost Jamie, you see, and when he received the news of Edward’s demise...well, it affected the balance of his mind.’

‘It must have been a terrible time for all concerned.’

He sighed. ‘It was. Because his body had not been found there was always a little gleam of hope that, somehow, a miracle might happen and Jamie might come back but, as time went on, hope began to fade. Eventually we had to face the facts, of course.’

‘But you have not given up hope of obtaining the proof you need.’

He shook his head. ‘No, I have not. As for the rest, it’s still hard to accept. I always thought I would know if he were really dead, that I’d feel it in my heart. I suppose that was just a form of denial. A foolish one at that.’

‘Not foolish at all, only human. There is not a day goes by that I don’t think about my father.’

The empathy evident in her look and tone touched something deep inside him. These were things he had never discussed with anyone, until now. Being accustomed to keeping his stronger emotions out of sight this unwonted openness made him feel exposed and yet, paradoxically, comforted too. It also felt like dangerous ground. He needed to return to a surer footing.

‘I hope I haven’t come on a wild-goose chase.’

‘I think you will discover the truth eventually.’

‘I hope so.’ Harry sighed. ‘Besides, it is only just that the estate should pass to the rightful heir. I need to establish who that is.’

‘Of course.’

Discovering the facts relating to Jamie’s death was only part of the problem, but Harry knew it would not be fitting to discuss such intimate details here. All the same, it was surprisingly easy to talk to Elena. Disarmingly easy. It behoved him to be careful. Whatever his view of the matter she was forbidden fare in every way. What might be regarded as acceptable attentions to a lady in England might well be regarded as familiarity in Spain where interpretation was much stricter. When marriages were arranged here it was not unusual if the bride and groom didn’t meet until their wedding day.

That thought engendered others and he wondered what manner of man Elena’s betrothed had been that he would abandon a woman in that way. Did he know what he was losing? Had they even met? He could hardly ask her, but all the same his curiosity increased.

‘Tell me about your home,’ she went on. ‘In what part of England does it lie?’

‘The family seat is at Castonbury Park in Derbyshire. That’s roughly in the middle of the country.’

‘The Montague name is an old and respected one, I think.’

‘Our line goes back to the Norman Conquest. One of our ancestors came over with Duke William and was rewarded for his service with lands in England.’

‘Do you live in a castle, then?’

‘No, although there has been a house at Castonbury since the Middle Ages. The original one changed over time as bits were added to provide more living space. Eventually it was demolished to be replaced with the present house.’

‘It must be very grand.’

He smiled faintly. ‘Grand enough, I suppose.’

‘Do you live there all the time?’

‘No, I reside in London for the most part. My work requires it. I visit Castonbury only occasionally now.’

‘Your work is with the diplomatic service.’

‘That’s right. It’s how I was able to obtain letters of introduction to your uncle and so begin my investigations about Jamie.’

‘I wish you good fortune with that.’

‘Thank you. I...’ He broke off, seeing the familiar figure of Doña Inéz advancing down the path towards them.

Elena followed his gaze and her smile faded. Her aunt’s face suggested stern disapproval, but then it was habitual for her to look that way. Composing her own expression to impassivity, Elena waited.

Doña Inéz acknowledged Lord Henry with a curt nod and then turned to her niece. ‘You must come into the house directly, Elena. Sister Maria and Sister Angela are come to give you instruction. They have received special dispensation to do so and should not be kept waiting.’

Elena’s jaw tightened and she fought down the urge to refuse point blank and consign both the holy sisters and her aunt to perdition. However, to do so would be a serious mistake. She must continue to play along for now.

‘Very well,’ she replied. ‘I will come.’ Turning to her companion she added, ‘I hope you will excuse me, Lord Henry.’

‘Of course.’ He bowed politely, then watched the two women walk away. More than ever he felt sorry for Elena’s predicament, but unfortunately there was nothing he could do about it.

Elena maintained her impassive expression for the next hour as the two elderly nuns schooled her in preparation for entry into the convent. She kept her gaze lowered lest they should read the anger in her eyes. This wasn’t going to happen. Concha was right. Somehow they would find a way out.

Meanwhile, the nuns would almost certainly report back to her aunt so a meek and quiet demeanour seemed the best policy for now. If everyone thought she was becoming resigned to her fate, so much the better. Thus she sat without comment through a homily about the sins of pride and disobedience and the need for repentance and reparation through a life of abstinence and prayer. When at length it ended there was a detailed explanation of what would be required on admission to the holy order. That was followed by a period of compulsory prayer in which the nuns expressed the hope that she might be guided back to the path of righteousness for the salvation of her immortal soul. Elena bit her tongue. They knew, because her aunt had evidently told them, that her niece had no vocation for the religious life, but it seemed not to trouble them a whit. So far as they were concerned Elena was a fallen woman. All that mattered now was that she should comply with the wishes of her family and quietly disappear from public view. If they ever got her within the convent gates that would most assuredly happen. She gritted her teeth. Over her dead body...

When eventually it ended and she returned to her room she sent for Concha. The maid eyed her sympathetically.

‘I thought they’d never let you go. What could the old crones find to say that took so long?’

‘Don’t ask. I don’t want to insult your intelligence by repeating it.’

‘What now, Doña Elena?’

‘Can you get out of the house on some pretext or other?’

‘Of course.’

‘We need to purchase horses and have them in readiness somewhere close at hand. When we make our escape it will have to be fast and we daren’t risk taking the animals from my uncle’s stable.’