Beloved Enemy (28 page)

Ginny woke when the bugle called reveille and for a moment,
in the gray light of dawn, wondered where she was. Her bed was unusually hard,
and the air unusually chilly on her bare skin. It was chilly, she decided,
because there was rather more of it than she was accustomed to, but she felt
m
arvelously invigorated, much more so than after a
night's rest in a stuffy inn. There was no sign of Alex, but somehow her body
knew that he had not long left her. She stretched in luxurious languor, knowing
that she should get up, yet unwilling to lose too soon these precious moments
of contemplatio
n
.

"Rise and shine, s
l
ug-a-bed!"
Alex stuck his head around the tent flap. "I do not know what you can have
done to deserve such consideration, but Jed is heating water for you, and the
rest of us are obliged to wait for our breakfast until the fire is free."

Abruptly the sense of peace was shattered as she remembered
the task she had set herself for this morning. Jed would be waiting for her and
for the right moment to take her into the camp. "Jed is one of nature's
gentlemen," she said with a yawn, sitting up and reaching for her shift.
"I have certain needs I must attend to, before I do anything else,
though." Standing up, she smoothed the garment over her hips, then shook
her head at Alex in mock reproof. "You play the voyeur, sir. Shame on
you."

"
It
is irresistible, I fear." He watched as she climbed into her gown, then
stood aside as Jed appeared swinging a kettle of steaming water.

"My thanks, Jed." Ginny smiled warmly at the soldier.
"I will be back in a
little
while."

Jed nodded his comprehension, placing the hot water inside
the tent. "If you bear to the right, mistress, behind the tent, you'll be
certain of privacy," he said.

"It is to be hoped he is right
,
" Ginny murmured to Alex, who laughed.

"You may be sure of it. You'll not be disturbed by any
of us, at any rate. We've been up and about long enough to need only our
breakfast.

"Then perhaps you would grant me a little privacy now,
Colonel." She raised her eyebrows, and Alex instantly left her. Ginny
swiftly gathered up her medicine basket, walking boldly out of the tent as if
she had but one purpose in mind. Following Jed's instructions, she found
herself in a small copse that skirted the camp. The rustle of her footsteps
seemed the only sound until she heard a low and definitely human whistle. She
stopped, whistled back softly.

"Mistress." A young soldier, scarcely more than a
lad, popped up from behind a bush. "I'm to take you to the camp, Jed
said."

Jed, of course, would be cooking the officers' breakfast,
safely away from this act of disobedience. This boy could hardly be blamed for
aiding and abetting Parliament's ward; only Ginny was in direct contravention
of orders, and that was exactly how it should be. She followed the soldier
without a word and soon found herself at the rear of the camp. A small group
awaited her, amongst them her two attackers.

It was injury, not disease, she had to deal with, and Ginny
guessed that the soldiers had their commander to thank for their generally fine
state of health. They probably lived better and certainly with greater
circumspection under his auspices than in the days before war had wrenched them
from their cottages and allotments where they would have kept one step ahead of
extreme poverty. She dispensed medicine and advice with a brisk objectivity,
receiving in exchange only blunt courtesy. All the while, her ears were
strained for the sound of an officer's voice. They presumably ventured into the
ranks on occasion, and there were quite enough people involved in this tangle
as it was. But then Jed was with them, she comforted herself. He would surely
do something to avert her discovery.

Half an hour later, she was back in the woods behind the tent,
wondering if Alex would remark on such an inordinately long time spent on
answering nature's call. To her relief, there was no sign of any of them as she
emerged into the clearing. The water in her tent was now tepid, but nonetheless
welcome for that, particularly since she had become somewhat overheated in her
haste to get back.

Feeling clean, cool, and inordinately calm, Ginny eventually
stepped out into the sunshine and looked around for Jed and signs of breakfast.
There was no immediate evidence of either, only the usual orderly bustle that
characterized Colonel Marshall's brigade. The minute she emerged from the tent,
two soldiers fell upon it, dismantling it, hoisting her baggage and bedroll
onto broad shoulders, and marching off to the supply lines. She tripped over a
guy rope, was nearly knocked off her feet by a soldier moving backward with one
half of some unidentifiable burden, and felt a very familiar pair of arms
steadying her.

"You're in the way, sweetheart." In spite of the
endearment, Alex's voice was crisp. "Be a good girl, and go and sit over
by those trees until we're finished."

"But I'm hungry," Ginny wailed disconsolately but
with
utter truth. It must have something
to do with open-air living, but the prospect of going breakfastless made her
feel utterly desperate.

Alex roared with laughter. "Poor little thing, we can't
have that. Jed has your breakfast somewhere."

"Well, somewhere isn't good enough," she stated
definitely. Where will I find him?"

"Go and sit over there." Alex gave her a little
push in the
re
quired direction. "He will find
you."

Jed did indeed find her within minutes, handing her bread and
bacon, and a mug of ale. "All well?" he asked
te
rsely.

Ginny nodded, her mouth too full of bacon to reply verbally.
She chewed, swallowed, then asked, "No one remarked on the length of my
absence?"

"Nah
—t
oo busy, like
I said," Jed answered.

"You'll tell me if I'm needed again?"

"Aye, mistress, I will
that
." He walked off, leaving Ginny to consume her breakfast and watch
the activity in a degree of contentment. She would have to start looking for
the red fox again when they halted for the night, and maybe, if she could make
contact herself, she could, discover some news of Edmund and Peter. They would
have had to come this way, if they had made landfall safely. But until this
evening, she could have an utterly clear conscience and deal with Alex in
perfect harmony.

It was amazing how wrong one could be.

The morning's march took them through quiet country lanes and
sleepy villages, but there was something about the quiet that set the hairs on
Ginny's neck prickling. They saw no one, although occasionally there was a
rustle from a ditch or behind a hedge. Ginny felt unseen eyes on them, and when
she looked at Alex riding tensely beside her, she knew that he felt them also.
At one point, he fell back and engaged in a low-
v
oiced conversation with Major Bonha
m
.

"What is it, Diccon?" Ginny turned to the
aide-de-camp riding on her other side. "Something is wrong."

"We're passing through a Royalist stronghold,"
Diccon said. "The colonel thinks they might try an ambush. It would be
foolish; we must outnumber them in strength and weapons, but a surprise attack
could do some damage."

"Diccon," Alex came alongside with the major.
"Major
B
onha
m
and I are going to ride ahead to the top of the Hog's Back. We'll have
a good view of the countryside from there. Have a care for Ginny; she is your
responsibility."

"May we not ride with you?" Ginny asked boldly.
"I am a fearsome responsibility for poor Diccon alone. With Cavaliers
behind every hedge, I might well be tempted to make a dash for it into the
fields."

"It is an impulse you would bitterly regret," Alex
said evenly, with
little
indication that he appreciated her
levity. "However, if you wish it, you may both ride with us."

Ginny winked mischievously at Diccon and received a shy
smile. "You would much prefer to ride with the colonel, would you
not?" she whispered.

"Infinitely," he agreed, "but I could not have
asked."

"Naturally not. That is why I did," she said
cheerfully.

The four of them cantered up the steep face of the Hog's
Back, a long, high ridge cutting through the Surrey countryside and commanding
extensive views on either side.

"What are we looking for?" Ginny asked when they
reached the summit.

"I don't know until I see it," Alex replied.
"They'll not be fool enough to show themselves obviously."

Ginny could see nothing but flat green fields stretching to
the horizon on either side. There were a few dots of cows, an occasional spiral
of smoke from farmhouse or cottage, crops were sparse, there being few men left
at home to plant and tend them, but apart from that, everything looked quite
normal.

"Where the devil are they?" Alex muttered.

"
Why
are you so sure they are there?" Ginny asked curiously. This was a new
side of Alex, tense but with a controlled excitement about him, as if he was
preparing himself to do something that he knew he did well, and that he loved
to do. Was it the prospect of fighting, Ginny wondered with a mixture of awe
and dread.

"Can you not sense them?" Alex replied. "I do
not wish for a skirmish. I cannot afford to lose any men or have to slow down
because of wounded."

That calculating pragmatism again. When he spoke like
th
at, Ginny wondered what it was about the man that she
lik
e
d, let alone loved. She turned Jen
aside and rode to the
ed
ge of the ridge, shading her eyes
against the sun as she looked toward the horizon. The town of Guildford lay
some ten miles ahead, the cathedral spire visible through the sun's haze.
Guildford was garrisoned with Roundhead forces, so they had but a short march
to accomplish across enemy territory.

"If you are afraid of an ambush, why do you not continue
to Guildford along the Hog
'
s Back? No one could take you
unawares up here."

"True enough." Alex smiled at her. "Quite a
tactician, aren't you? But it is a very long way round, and I prefer to go as
the crow flies. I have to decide whether the risk outweighs the advantage. Let
us go back now. I think it is safe enough to halt the march for a short rest
period."

The brigade halted in a large field, hedged on all sides. A
small stream, bordered with golden marigolds, flowed along one side, and Ginny
took Jen to water
her. Looking over the hedge into the
neighboring field, she thought she saw something on the far side that gladdened
her apothecary's heart. Unless she was much mistaken, there was a large
cl
ump of pennyroyal growing against the far hedge. She
slipped from the mare's back, knotting the reins so Jen could graze without
fear of catching a hoof, and looked around for someone to tell where she was
going. There was no sign of Alex anywhere, but somebody had presumably been
designated to keep an eye on her. Let them earn their keep, she decided,
prompted by that fatal imp of mischief. Since she had only the most innocent
purpose in mind, she could wander off with a clear conscience and see if anyone
noticed.

There was a gap in the hedge, the other side of the stream.
Ginny discarded her shoes and paddled through the deliciously cool water. She
was halfway across the far field, quite exposed, when the first shots rang out
behind her. She obeyed her first instinct, which was to fling herself down on
the grass and bury her head in her arms, waiting for the worst. Nothing
happened, and slowly she realized that the noise of shouting, interspersed with
shots, was coming from the field where the brigade was taking its ease. Alex
had miscalculated, and the ambush he had feared had taken place.

Lying in the middle of this field was not going to do anyone
any good, she thought rapidly. She needed to take shelter, and clearly that was
to be found by going forward, not back into the scene of battle. Crouching low,
she ran to the side of the field where the hedge afforded some cover. Then she
crept around, putting as much distance as she could between herself and the
sound of fighting. Why wa
s
she not afraid? The
thought came and went as she gained the far side and the patch of pennyroyal.
Now was obviously not a good time for herb collecting, she decided with an
amazing degree of wry humor; she would go through into the next field and wait
in the shelter of the hedge until there was some indication that it was safe to
go back. Not for one minute did it occur to her to doubt that Alex would make
short work of this inconvenient attack.