Redemption of a Fallen Woman (20 page)

She strolled away and, finding a suitable spot, settled down to wait. Although they had encountered no more brigands it didn’t pay to be careless, especially as they were so close to their goal now. She glanced up. A clear starlit sky gave promise of more fine weather to come. That was a relief anyway. In the cooler winter season rain tended to arrive in short intense bursts which lasted a few days and then were followed by spells of unbroken sunshine.

Her thoughts went thence to England, by all accounts a much wetter land. She smiled to herself. Dolores had accustomed herself to it, so there was no reason why she should not too. She tried to visualise Castonbury Park. From what Harry had said it must be a grand house and, no doubt, a fine estate. Would his family welcome her? Would they be prepared to accept a foreigner in their midst?

Soft footfalls penetrated her consciousness. In seconds she was on her feet with a pistol in her hand.

‘It’s all right.’ Harry hove into her line of vision. ‘It’s only me.’

Elena lowered the pistol and relaxed a little. ‘You move so quietly.’

‘Now that
is
hurtful. I was trying to make a noise.’

The plaintive tone raised a smile. ‘Next time try harder lest you get a ball through your heart.’

‘I’ll bear it in mind.’

Elena regarded him quizzically but the darkness hid his expression. ‘Did you wish to tell me something?’

‘To ask if you’re all right. I was afraid the conversation about your father might have upset you.’

‘No, it didn’t. I miss him but it doesn’t pain me to speak of him.’

‘I wish I might have known him.’

‘You would have got on well, I think. The two of you would have found much common ground.’

‘He’s a man whose behaviour I should wish to emulate,’ he replied.

In truth it was only part of the reason he was there. While he had wondered about her private reaction to the earlier conversation it also served as an excuse to be alone with her. He hadn’t realised until then how much he wanted that. Fond as he was of their two companions Elena had become as necessary to him as breathing.

‘We haven’t spoken much since we left town,’ he said. ‘I didn’t want you to think it was deliberate policy.’

‘You’ve had other things on your mind.’

‘Yes.’

Their earlier conversation about Captain Radcliffe had opened up a dark place to the light of day and it didn’t make for pleasant viewing. At the same time he couldn’t be sorry that he’d told her. Pretence was at an end and she knew now who he was. He just hoped that, in time, they could draw a line and move on.

‘I hope to make up for it later,’ he continued.

Her pulse quickened a little at the implications. ‘I’ll remember you said that.’

Harry grinned. ‘I shall not need reminding.’

* * *

Four days later they got their first glimpse of the sea, a deep blue smudge against the paler horizon. As Harry pointed it out Elena stared in wide-eyed wonder.

‘This is the first time I ever saw the sea,’ she said.

‘Or I,’ said Concha.

He surveyed them in momentary shock, then, on reflection, realised it wasn’t surprising. Spain was a big country and, probably, very many of its citizens never saw the sea.

‘You’ll soon be able to have a much closer look.’

Elena smiled. ‘I can hardly wait.’

Her expression just then was indicative of almost childlike excitement and he was unexpectedly touched.

‘We’ll make time to look.’

‘Will we see whales?’

‘I don’t know about whales, but there may be dolphins.’

‘There was a picture of a dolphin in one of my father’s books. I should very much like to see the real thing.’

‘They tend to travel in groups,’ he replied. ‘It’s quite something to behold.’

‘Aye,’ said Jack. ‘It is that. They’re playful creatures and can follow a ship for days wi’out tiring. They’ve even been known to help drowning sailors to safety.’

Concha regarded him askance. ‘Is this another of your tall tales?’

‘It’s true, honest. First mate on t’troop ship told me and he swore on t’bible it were so. Cross me heart an’ hope to die.’

‘Well, it may be as you say.’ She paused. ‘What do these dolphins do the rest of the time?’

‘They hunt fish, I suppose. No one knows for sure.’

‘What is it like to travel on a ship?’ asked Elena.

‘Like being drunk, my lady, only wi’out getting merry—until you get your sea legs that is.’

‘Sea legs?’

‘When you grow accustomed t’movement o’ t’ship.’

‘Oh.’ She looked at Harry. ‘Does the voyage to England take long?’

‘Three weeks, perhaps, a little less with fair weather and a following wind.’

‘It will be an adventure.’

He eyed her with amusement. ‘Have you not tired of adventures yet?’

‘On the contrary, I think life would be dull without them.’

‘I suppose it would. All the same, a little peace and quiet in between times would not go amiss.’

They rode on and soon the roofs of the town came into view. Situated on a peninsula, Cádiz was an important centre for shipping and trade. Its harbour was protected by a great fortress which, despite all their efforts, had never been taken by the French. A little further along the coast was Cape Trafalgar, off which the British had won their great naval victory eleven years earlier.

‘It doesn’t seem quite real to be here, does it?’ she said.

‘No. All the same, I’m glad we are.’

‘Very soon now you will have the proof you need.’

He smiled. ‘Let’s hope so.’

Privately he was hopeful. They had come so far and endured so much. It couldn’t all be for nothing.

‘We’ll find somewhere comfortable to lodge,’ he went on. ‘Then I’ll make enquiries about Sanchez.’

Elena returned the smile, guessing at some of his thoughts just then. For the rest of them it was the end of a long and arduous journey; for him it was the culmination of an ambition. After that she supposed they would take ship for England. The thought filled her with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. The next few weeks were going to be filled with new experiences. After that, something infinitely more exciting beckoned. That thought turned her mind in another direction.

Since they had been on the road there had been no opportunity to share his bed. Nor had he attempted to create any others. He had told her his apparent neglect was not a matter of deliberate policy but, having waited days now for him to make a move, her patience was at an end. Clearly she was going to have to take the initiative. A few weeks ago the idea would have been unthinkable. It was still rather alarming, but now the thought excited her as well. She smiled to herself. If His English Lordship imagined that she had forgotten his promise he was much mistaken. It was he who needed reminding, after all.

They made their way through the bustling streets and at length found La Gata Negra, the hostelry that Don Manuel had recommended. In this at least his judgement had been unimpaired. Like all his other recommendations, the Black Cat was clean and orderly and employed well-trained staff. Harry bespoke accommodation and gave orders about the horses. Then they went in. A manservant showed them to their rooms.

Elena stepped over the threshold and looked around. The chamber was large and surprisingly well furnished with a bed, washstand, dresser, two chairs and a couch.

‘Does it meet your requirements?’ asked Harry.

‘Indeed it does.’ She glanced at the couch again. ‘In fact, it exceeds expectation.’

He closed the door behind them. ‘I hope it’s the last time we’ll have to do this for a while. Living out of saddlebags is all very well, but I confess I’ve had my fill of it.’

Elena shrugged off her jacket. ‘I know what you mean.’

He dumped the saddlebags and removed his coat, tossing it onto the bed. ‘Yes, but I promise you things are going to change.’

‘That’s good.’ Elena sat down on a chair and tugged off her boots. Then, without haste, she unfastened her breeches and took those off too.

Harry watched with increasing interest. ‘When I spoke of changing I didn’t expect to be taken quite so literally.’

Elena untied the ribbon at the back of her neck and shook her hair loose. ‘Is that a criticism?’

The accompanying sidelong look was distinctly seductive and his breathing quickened. ‘By no means.’

Elena untied the laces at the neck of her shirt and let the fabric part. ‘Well, I have a complaint to make.’

‘Indeed? What complaint?’

‘It may take some time to tell you.’

‘I’m not in a hurry.’

She advanced until she stood before him. ‘I’m glad to hear that, my lord, because I do require your complete attention.’

His hands came to rest on her waist. ‘You have it.’

‘Are you quite sure?’ Her lips brushed his, lightly teasing. ‘I should not like to think you were distracted.’

‘Distraction would be impossible.’ He nuzzled her neck. ‘So tell me what displeases you.’

Her arms went around him. ‘Do you know how long it is since last we made love? Six whole days!’

‘Six days...seven hours...and thirty-five minutes,’ he replied, punctuating each phrase with a kiss.

Elena caressed his back. ‘Worse and worse.’

‘I can see I’m going to have to make amends.’

‘You know I have some ideas about that.’

‘Really? What ideas?’

She edged closer still, moulding her body to his. Then, applying gentle pressure, she walked him slowly backwards. ‘If you would like to sit down on that couch I’ll explain. I think you might find it interesting.’

When he had complied Elena sat astride his lap. He raised one eyebrow.

‘This does look interesting.’

‘Indeed I hope so.’

Leaning forward a little she kissed him while her hands sought the fastenings of his breeches. His heartbeat quickened. He watched as, with slow deliberation, she unfastened the buttons and tugged aside the shirt beneath. Then her fingers closed round him and stroked.

‘Still interested?’ she asked.

Harry drew in a sharp breath. ‘Oh, yes.’

The stroking continued and heat flared in his groin. In moments he was erect. Her fingers continued to tease, creating sensations so exquisite he thought he might die. She shifted position a little to accommodate him. With a groan he slid inside her. His hands cupped her buttocks, pulling her closer. Then her mouth was against his ear, nibbling the lobe softly and sending a delightful shiver the length of his body.

‘Do you know I’m beginning to believe you?’ she murmured.

He bent and kissed the tops of her breasts. ‘I hope to convince you, but it may take some time.’

Elena grasped the hem of her shirt and casually pulled the garment off. Harry’s heart performed an unwonted and exceedingly dangerous manoeuvre. Until then he’d thought he couldn’t possibly be more aroused. She began to rock slowly. He gasped.

She regarded him speculatively. ‘So we’re going to be here for a while, then?’

He caressed her naked skin. ‘Indeed we are.’ His lips resumed what they had begun. ‘A very...long...while.’

Chapter Nineteen

L
ater Harry sent out for food which they ate in their room. Afterwards he carried her back to bed and resumed what they had begun. Her passion astonished and delighted him, but more rewarding than all of that was the knowledge that she was offering him her trust. The shadows of the past had been banished and he was careful to do nothing that might recall them, so that his exploration of her body was tender, each caress an act of homage. Elena was innately sensual and her passion was awakened now. Gradually, and with infinite patience, he introduced other possibilities to their lovemaking and discovered in her a willing pupil. The night was far advanced before they slept.

Elena woke first, her entire body suffused with warmth and a sense of well-being. Turning her head she looked at the man beside her, drinking in every detail of his face, her heart full. He had taken her to places beyond imagination, initiating her further into the art of love. Far from being repelled or frightened she had enjoyed every moment. It seemed a paradox that submission to a man could make her feel whole again, but it undoubtedly had. She smiled and dropped a kiss on his breast.

Harry opened his eyes and smiled. ‘Is that how you mean to wake me each morning?’

‘If you wish.’ She returned a sultry glance. ‘Or if you prefer I could do this.’ She shifted position a little and kissed him on the lips.

‘Better and better.’

She repeated the gesture. ‘I’m glad you approve.’

‘I approve very much.’

Her gaze held his. ‘I’d like to have more than your approval.’ She hesitated. ‘I love you, Harry.’

He stared at her dumbfounded, unable to believe he had heard aright. Their compatibility delighted him on many levels; that her heart was involved as well seemed more than he deserved. As the implications began to sink in, he experienced a variety of unwonted sensations which only added to surprise and compounded mental confusion. He was far from indifferent to Elena. It had happened so gradually that he’d hardly been aware of it. Somewhere along the way his feelings for Belén had been...not supplanted exactly, but they had subtly altered. Her memory would always be with him, but the attendant grief and loss had abated and been replaced by hope. A part of him still felt guilty that it should be so and it warred with the rest that wanted to move on, to find fulfilment and to love again. Having spent years concealing his emotions and almost never giving them expression, he was at a loss now to explain what he felt.

‘Elena, I...’ He broke off, searching for words. ‘You must know that I also care for you very deeply.’

His hesitation and embarrassment didn’t go unnoticed and her heart sank. She had taken a risk in declaring herself hoping that, by being open with him, he might then tell her what he truly felt. And indeed he had. Only it was not what she had been longing to hear.
Care for
was not the same as love. She had earlier surmised that Harry was the kind of man who would not give his heart easily; her intuition had proved correct.

She summoned a tremulous smile. ‘I’m glad.’

‘You should never doubt it, sweetheart.’ He kissed her cheek. ‘You are very important to me.’

Her throat tightened. At least he hadn’t pretended, and he had let her down gently, although, at that moment, she almost wished he had lied to her.

‘It’s getting late. We should get up.’

He slid an arm about her waist. ‘There’s no immediate hurry, is there?’

Elena turned away. ‘You have an appointment to keep, remember?’

He’d temporarily forgotten about that and now felt strangely torn. He knew that she had withdrawn from him, that there were things unspoken between them, but he was uncertain how to broach so sensitive a subject. With a feeling akin to disappointment he watched as she climbed out of bed and donned her shift. He sighed. Clearly the moment had passed. They would have to talk later.

* * *

It was perhaps an hour later when he set out from the inn on the last stage of his quest. He had been given directions by the
patrón
of La Gata Negra. However, the enquiry had elicited a look of surprise and the intelligence that the address was not in the most salubrious part of town.

‘If you go there it would be as well to go armed,
señor
. Although trouble is unlikely during the hours of daylight one cannot be too careful.’

Harry thanked him for the advice. The
patrón
bowed and, after ascertaining there was nothing more his distinguished guest required, he left.

‘If t’neighbourhood is as he describes, it’d be as well to go accompanied an’ all,’ said Jack, who had been present during the conversation. ‘Happen you might need someone at your back.’

‘I’d be glad of the company,’ replied Harry.

Thus it was that the two of them made their way from the bustling main thoroughfare into smaller side streets. Here the buildings were closer together and humble in appearance. The cobbles were littered with rubbish and, in places, slick with dirty water; the air was thick with the smells of decay and stale food. Cur dogs picked through the detritus, oblivious to the passers-by. The latter regarded the newcomers with covert and curious glances but no one made any attempt to impede their progress.

Once or twice they paused to ask directions and, at length, came to the street in question and found the house. It was unremarkable and, like all the others, its lower windows were shuttered and barred. A stout wooden gate gave on to the roadway. When Harry knocked, the sound echoed behind it. At length an elderly woman appeared. She was clad all in black. The dress had seen better days but the wearer contrived to look neat all the same. When she asked the visitors their business her tone was polite.

Harry gave his name and asked for Sanchez. The old woman nodded.

‘You had better come in.’

They followed her into a small courtyard and thence into the house where they were shown into a small parlour. Although sparsely furnished it was spotlessly clean and smelled of beeswax polish. The old lady excused herself and left them alone. Harry listened to the sound of her retreating footsteps and then low, urgent voices, hers and a male’s.

A few minutes later the door opened again to admit a man of middle years. He was of average height and stocky frame, his lined face homely rather than handsome, and framed by greying brown hair. Dark eyes surveyed the visitors with wary interest. His gaze passed over Jack and came to rest on Harry, taking in every detail of his appearance. As he did so his eyes widened a little.

‘You will forgive the lack of ceremony, my lord. I was not expecting so exalted a guest.’

‘I am not here to stand on ceremony,’ said Harry. ‘I am come to seek Señor Sanchez.’

The older man frowned. ‘I am he, but I fear you have the advantage of me.’

‘Señor Xavier Sanchez?’

Understanding dawned in the man’s face. ‘Xavier is my nephew, but I regret to say that he is from home at present.’

Harry’s heart sank. ‘May I ask when he will return?’

‘I do not know. I have not seen him for some time.’

‘This is most unfortunate for my business is pressing and I have travelled a long way to find him.’

‘May I ask the nature of your business?’

As Harry gave him the gist, the older man listened carefully, his expression indicative of concern.

‘This is indeed a matter of importance.’

‘It could not be more so to my family.’ Harry paused. ‘I wonder, might it be possible to get a message to your nephew?’

‘As I said, I don’t know his exact whereabouts.’

‘But you do know those who might.’

For a moment his gaze locked with that of Sanchez. The latter nodded slowly.

‘Perhaps.’

‘I’d be much obliged if you would make enquiries.’

‘I’ll see what I can do.’

‘I know that my late brother was involved in matters of a sensitive nature, and that this might make your nephew cautious. He has no need to be. My enquiries relate only to the circumstances of my brother’s death.’

Again, Sanchez nodded. ‘If you will leave your direction I will send word when I know more.’

‘I thank you.’

Harry suspected that the man already knew more than he was prepared to say at this stage, but could understand the reasons for reticence. In the Intelligence Service discretion was of paramount importance: careless talk could and did cost lives. At the same time it was frustrating to be so near his goal and yet still be denied the proof he sought. For now though, he accepted that there was nothing else to be done. It would be folly to alienate the uncle and jeopardise all chance of finding the nephew. Harry had always known something like this might happen but, all the same, the sense of anti-climax was strong. He saw the same emotion in Jack’s face. For the first time the thought occurred that Xavier Sanchez might not wish to be found. Harry paused, framing his next words carefully.

‘If...when...you get word to your nephew, tell him also that I am not come to apportion blame.’

The dark eyes never wavered but their gaze softened a little. ‘I’ll do that, my lord.’

‘Then I hope to hear from you soon.’

Harry offered his right hand and, after a brief hesitation, the other man took it, his grip sure and strong. Then he smiled faintly.

‘Vaya con Dios.’

Harry and Jack left the house a short time later and retraced their steps to the inn. For a little while neither one spoke. Then, eventually, Jack threw his master a sideways glance.

‘He’ll get word to his nephew, I’m thinking.’

‘Yes. I imagine he won’t find it too hard.’

‘He knew a lot more than he was letting on. I’d like to have searched t’rest of t’house.’

‘That thought was in my mind too, but it would have been most unwise to try.’

‘Aye, true enough.’ Jack sighed. ‘What now, my lord?’

‘We wait. There’s nothing else we can do.’

‘If Xavier Sanchez has any sense of honour he’ll meet you.’

‘So I hope,’ replied Harry.

On their return to the inn, he went in search of Elena and found her with Concha in the garden at the rear of the premises. Seeing him approach the maid rose and left them. Harry took the seat she had vacated. Elena regarded him with mingled anxiety and embarrassment. However, he seemed unaware of it. It was as though that earlier scene had never happened. Forcing hurt aside she decided to take her cue from him.

‘Was your visit successful?’

‘Yes and no.’

She listened with quiet attention while he explained what had happened.

‘It sounds as if the uncle was exercising caution,’ she said.

‘My thought exactly.’

‘It’s understandable, in the circumstances.’

He smiled ruefully. ‘Frustrating too, but there’s not much to be done about that. While we wait, perhaps you’d care to explore the town.’

‘I’d like that.’

‘Well, then, I’m entirely at your disposal.’

The bustling harbour with its forest of ship masts was an enthralling sight, like the mysterious sacks and bales and barrels on the quayside. The smell of fish and spice mingled with rope and tar and seaweed, and the sunlit air resounded with male voices speaking in Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, French and Arabic. It suggested a world apart from the one Elena had previously inhabited, a world that was strange and exotic and exciting. She was entranced.

Curious and admiring glances came her way but, being rapt in the wonder of it all, she failed to notice. Harry, on the other hand, did. It came as no surprise that other men should want to look at his wife and he was happy to let them look. He’d have been less than human if he hadn’t enjoyed their envy. In contrast, Elena seemed quite oblivious to the attention and wanted to know about the ships and their cargoes instead. Harry, privately amused, did his best to answer.

Later they left the harbour and strolled thence to the Barrio de la Viña, an area of the old town with close proximity to the shoreline and the Playa de la Caleta, an impressive expanse of sand stretching between the fortresses of San Sebastian and Santa Catalina. Elena surveyed the view with shining eyes.

‘Homer’s wine-dark sea,’ she murmured. ‘It’s more beautiful than I’d ever imagined.’

Her unfeigned enthusiasm recalled the first time he had ever set eyes on the sea. ‘It’s quite something, isn’t it?’

‘I can easily understand why men are drawn to explore it.’

‘It has a siren voice but it is not without its perils.’

‘So I have heard.’

‘In England there is a growing fashion for sea bathing,’ he said.

‘Men are so fortunate.’

‘Women enjoy it too, I believe.’

Her eyes widened. ‘Women? Really?’

Harry grinned. ‘Yes, really.’

‘I should like to try that.’

‘If you wish I will take you to Brighton and you can essay the waters there.’

‘You wouldn’t mind?’

‘No, why should I?’

There were several things that she might have said in reply. Instead she tried to imagine what her former betrothed would have said if she had ever suggested such a thing. Visualising his probable expression, she could only smile to herself. Jose and Harry were as different as paste from diamond.

‘Be warned though,’ he continued. ‘The water is likely to be much colder than here.’

‘I’ll brave it just for the experience.’

‘Would you like to try now?’ Without warning he swept her up and strode towards the water’s edge.

Elena shrieked, protesting vigorously. ‘Harry, no! Put me down!’

‘You said you wanted to swim.’

‘Yes, but not now!’

‘No time like the present.’

‘You wouldn’t.’

‘Wouldn’t I?’

As the next wave rolled in and he made to throw her into the water, she uttered a despairing wail, clinging to him for dear life. The wave broke sending lacy foam racing up the strand. Instead of dropping her, Harry retained his hold and, at the last moment, turned and fled from the advancing water, eventually setting her down safely above the waterline. Heart pounding she glared at him in disbelief.

‘
Bruto!
I really thought you were going to throw me in.’