Читать книгу The Price Of Honour - Mary Nichols, Mary Nichols - Страница 7

FOR one infinitesimal moment after the shot was fired, no one moved, except the Englishman, whose body fell to the ground with a thump and lay still. Olivia, from her hiding place, smiled in triumph and patted the butt of the heavy Baker rifle which had made it possible. But then all was commotion as some of the guerrilleros ran for guns which had been stacked against the wall and others turned towards the wagon where the difting gunsmoke betrayed her position. Now she had to keep the initiative and there was no time to reload. She darted out from her hiding place and ran to where the Leopard lay. Still startled, the men did nothing to stop her.

‘You imbeciles!’ she shouted. ‘You could have killed him!’

Don Santandos was the first to recover. ‘That, madame, was our intention,’ he said. ‘And but for your lucky shot he would be dead by now.’

She bit off the retort that it had not been luck but marksmanship, and concentrated on playing the distraught female. In a way she was distraught; without Mr Leopard, she was lost; reluctantly she had to admit it. ‘He is my husband,’ she said. ‘He is the one who will tell you I am who I say I am. Oh, if he dies…’

The partisans were watching, doing nothing, but she could not expect them to remain inactive for long; she had to convince them. ‘Darling! Darling, speak to me,’ she cried, as she worked to loosen the rope around their victim’s neck. She put her ear to his chest. His heart was beating like a hammer on an anvil. ‘You are my husband,’ she whispered, bending low over him so that her face was against his ear. ‘Tell me your name.’ When he did not reply, she lifted her head to look at him, wondering if he had heard her, or even if he could speak. His eyes were closed and there was an angry red weal round his neck where the rope had been.

‘Oh, do not die on me, my love!’ she cried, with more anguish than ever for the benefit of the onlookers. ‘I love you. I need you.’

She was not sure, but she thought she detected a slight grin on his face and hoped fervently no one else had seen it. To make sure of that, she bent and kissed him on the mouth and was completely taken aback when he put his arm round her neck so that her head was imprisoned and kissed her back. Where he found the strength to hold her so firmly after what he had been through she did not know. She was acutely aware of their audience as the kiss lengthened and became something more than a mere meeting of lips.

Then he moved his mouth, oh, so slowly, round to her ear, making her shiver. ‘Robert,’ he croaked. ‘Robert Lynmount.’

‘Come now, madame,’ Don Santandos said. ‘Enough is enough. Such antics are best left to the bedroom and prove nothing.’

She looked up at the Spaniards who stood round grinning and covered her confusion with a show of anger. ‘You may think yourselves lucky that my husband is not dead, for Viscount Wellington would certainly have had something to say about it, I can tell you. Robert Lynmount is one of his most valued officers.’

Don Santandos laughed. ‘I would say his value is less than a dozen buttons and a metre of braid.’

She chose to ignore this reference to the Englishman’s mutilated uniform. ‘Now, will you please help him to a bed where he can recover?’ She prayed her authoritative manner would have the desired effect, because they had no hope of fighting their way out, even if she still held the gun and could reload.

‘You have courage, madame, I’ll grant you,’ Don Santandos said. ‘It has earned you both a reprieve, albeit a temporary one.’ He turned to give orders to two of his men who went to pick the Englishman up, one at his head and the other at his feet, but before they could do so he sat up and pushed them away. They stood back and watched as he forced himself to his feet. He stood, swaying a little before finding his balance, but Olivia knew better than to try to help him. He was an exceptionally strong man and he was also proud.

Don Santandos smiled. ‘Good. Come with me.’ He turned to lead the way into the building.

Olivia, tagging along behind, realised it had been a long time since the monastery had been used for the purpose for which it had been built. It was a small fortress; every window was a gun embrasure, with weapons and ammunition at the ready. There was food stacked in the room which had once been the monks’ kitchens and truckle-beds and straw paliasses were scattered about. They were obviously preparing for a siege. If they thought she and Philippe had been aware of their preparations when they captured them, it was no wonder they had been so anxious that they should not return to Ciudad Rodrigo and the French army.

‘You look surprised, madame,’ Don Santandos said in French. ‘Why should that be?’

‘Please do not call me madame. I am not French; I have told you so a dozen times. My name is Mrs Lynmount. And yes, I am surprised to find so much preparation for war in a place like this.’

‘Because it is a monastery? They were built to withstand sieges, Mrs Lynmount.’

She was glad that he had changed to English; perhaps he was ready to be convinced, after all. ‘Not just that, but because it is so far from the main road. I can’t imagine an army deciding to come this way. The ground is too rough and the way too narrow.’

‘It would come if there was no alternative. What we have done for a small force, we can do for a greater. Now I have said enough.’ He opened the door to one of the monks’ cells. ‘You will be comfortable in here until we decide what to do with you.’

As soon as they had gone, Robert collapsed on to the narrow bed which stood against the wall, and shut his eyes. His hand strayed to his throat and he tried to swallow.

She knelt beside him. ‘Is there anything I can do to ease it? A bandage perhaps?’

‘I must…thank you for…my deliverance.’

‘I was angry.’

He grinned, but it was more a grimace of pain. ‘Angry enough to attempt…the impossible… The luck of the…gods must have been with you.’

‘Luck didn’t come into it,’ she said, busily tearing the hem off her petticoat to make a bandage. ‘I have been a crack shot ever since I was big enough to lift a pistol.’

His disbelief was obvious, but she let it pass; she was used to it. ‘Even a rifleman…would consider that a…shot in a thousand,’ he said. ‘And you must have known…that even if it succeeded…you would be taken prisoner.’

‘It was you who said “sufficient unto the day”. And they had no right to do what they did. After all, they are supposed to be our allies.’ Her touch was gentle as she wound the makeshift bandage round his neck; it belied the sharpness of her tongue. ‘And you would do better not to try and talk.’

‘It was…a brave thing to do.’ His voice was becoming stronger as the effects of his ordeal wore off. ‘Especially as you are not sure of my…loyalty to my country.’

‘It does not matter what I think; it is the guerrilleros you have to convince. I told them when they first captured me that I was Philippe’s prisoner and that I was married to an English soldier. You must be that soldier. You went absent without leave to look for me. You must make them believe it. Persuade them to let us go back to our own lines.’

‘Us? Does that mean you are throwing in your lot with mine, after all?’

‘Only until we are out of this scrape.’

‘You would not be in a scrape if you had done as you were bidden and waited on the other side of the gorge for me.’

She had got herself into this mess, it was true, but it had started long before she met him. She smiled. ‘I would have had a long wait.’

‘Better than dying with me.’

‘I do not intend to die.’ She leaned back to look at her handiwork. ‘Why were they trying to hang you? What were you supposed to have stolen?’

‘A mule.’

‘For me?’ Her obvious surprise made him smile crookedly.

‘How else could I have persuaded you to come with me?’

‘And the bread?’

‘I don’t think they have missed that even now.’

She was beginning to look at him in a new light; he was certainly resourceful as well as brave and strong. ‘The hare too? And the water?’

‘Why not?’

‘You fool! And all for nothing.’

‘Nothing, my dear Olivia? How can you say that when Dame Fortune has smiled on our endeavours and given us a sure sign we are meant to go on?’

‘Whatever are you talking about?’

He touched his neck gingerly. ‘Now I don’t have to pretend, I can be a silent Philippe and be convincing.’

‘Oh, you are impossible! It is out of the question, and if the guerrilleros hear that you intend to go to the French they will make sure we do not escape. They may decide that hanging is too good for us and try torture. Besides, if the French are sending supply wagons as far forward as this, they must have left Ciudad Rodrigo to continue their advance.’

‘Do you know how far forward we are?’

‘No, and I doubt the guerrilleros will tell us.’

He sat up suddenly, swung his legs over the edge of the bed and pulled her up beside him as footsteps sounded on the stone floor outside their cell. When the door opened he was holding her in a tight embrace and his lips were on hers. To have tried to resist would have made the man who stood in the doorway suspicious and yet she did not want the Englishman to think that kissing strange men was something she made a habit of and he could do it with impunity. She had had two husbands before but neither had kissed her like this. His strength and determination went into that kiss, but it was more than that; it hinted at a latent passion which promised all manner of delight if only she would submit and return fire with fire.

But she would not; he was taking advantage of their situation and it just would not do. But even as the thought crossed her mind she was weakening; his mouth, exploring hers, overwhelmed her senses and made her whole traitorous body melt against his. She forgot everything — her surroundings, her widowhood, even the man who stood in the doorway, as she succumbed to a need she had never before acknowledged.

Robert lifted his head at last and looked over her shoulder at the newcomer. ‘Go away; can’t you see I am busy?’

The spell had been broken and she took the opportunity to pull herself away and sit up, now acutely aware of the smiling Spaniard. ‘The chief sent me to fetch you to join him for supper. Come, follow me.’

Reluctantly Robert rose to obey and Olivia, struck dumb, could do nothing but follow as their guide conducted them to the refectory, where almost the whole band of partisans were sitting around a table laden with food and bottles of wine.

‘Sit down, my friends,’ Don Santandos said, waving a chicken leg at them. ‘Eat heartily. Let it not be said Don Santandos does not know how to treat his prisoners.’ He looked up at Robert. ‘I trust your neck is not too uncomfortable for you to swallow?’ He pointed at two empty spaces on the bench next to him and waited until they had taken their seats and food had been set before them. Then he filled their glasses. ‘You were lucky, you know,’ he said, addressing Robert. ‘So lucky it is almost unbelievable, and because of that I am inclined to take it as a sign that you are not meant to die — not yet.’ He smiled. ‘We might have other uses for you.’

Robert, who was reluctant to put food into his mouth in case he could not swallow it, picked up his glass and held it up in salute to Don Santandos. ‘Be assured, Don Santandos, if I can be of service, I shall deem it an honour. After all, one good turn deserves another.’ He sipped the wine. Olivia, watching, noticed the almost imperceptible wince of pain as he swallowed it.

The Spaniard laughed. ‘It is a good turn to be half strangled?’

‘No, señor, I was referring to the fact that you had done me the service of killing the man who took my wife, and saved me the trouble.’

‘Ahh.’ He looked at Robert’s untouched plate. ‘Would you rather have soup, my friend? It will go down more easily.’ He clicked his fingers and one of his men hurried to the kitchens. ‘We shall, of course, have to have proof of your story. You have no papers, nothing on your uniform to tell us which regiment you came from, nor your rank. And there are no British troops this side of the Coa.’

‘You are wrong.’

‘You mean Craufurd’s Light Division?’

‘You know that, do you?’

‘It is hardly a secret.’ Don Santandos paused to swallow his glass of wine in one gulp. ‘For someone who is supposed to be covering a retreat, he is being particularly aggressive. Is that where you came from?’

‘No.’

‘Why are you alone?’

‘He came looking for me.’ Olivia found her voice at last.

‘And who would not want to search for so beautiful an example of the fair sex?’ The Spaniard laughed suddenly. ‘Even if she does handle a rifle like a trooper.’

‘Better,’ she said, making him laugh again.

He turned to Robert. ‘You have taught her well, but don’t you think a gun in the hands of a woman is a fatal combination?’

‘It is only fatal if I want it to be,’ she snapped quickly. ‘And I can out-shoot any man here. Give me a weapon and I will prove it.’

Don Santandos roared with laughter, and though his men had not understood the conversation they knew something had tickled the fancy of their chief and followed suit. ‘You are a trier, I give you that,’ he said, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. ‘But I am not such a fool as to fall for that one.’

‘It was worth a try,’ she said, smiling.

‘I think,’ said Robert, as a bowl of soup was set before him, ‘I think I have a better proposition than that.’

‘Oh, let us hear it. It will amuse us while we wait.’

‘Wait for what?’ Olivia demanded.

No one answered her. Robert stood up and beckoned to Don Santandos. ‘A word in your ear, señor.’

Two or three of the partisans pushed back the bench on which they sat, making it overturn with a clatter, and rushed to seize Robert’s arms. He stood without struggling, still looking towards their leader. ‘Come, Don Santandos, I am weak and helpless and I give you my parole.’

‘No!’ Olivia shrieked, knowing that his parole would bind him to refrain from trying to escape. ‘You fool!’

‘It seems your wife has more spunk than you do, Englishman. No wonder she preferred the company of the Frenchman.’

‘I did not! Why will you not believe me?’

‘Because, Mrs Lynmount, we had been watching you for some time before we took you prisoner and we saw what we saw. Would you like me to tell your husband that you were not behaving like a prisoner? Shall we tell him what we saw?’

‘There is no need for that.’

‘Are you afraid he would beat you?’

‘He should understand that when a woman has a choice between…’ She shrugged, allowing them to guess her meaning.

‘You mean your courage deserted you and you did not fight for your honour? Oh, Mrs Lynmount, you disappoint me.’

‘It was be his prisoner or be left to the mercy of his men.’ She deliberately turned from him and began to eat. ‘I will speak no more on the subject. If my husband is satisfied, then so should you be.’

‘Are you satisfied?’ Don Santandos asked Robert.