Lady Emma's Campaign (11 page)

Sidney studied Enrique from the
corner of his eye as they followed Emma toward the river. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Enrique had glanced at Emma’s hand when he spoke to her. Had he heard any of their conversation? Had he seen the coin? If so, he knew that it was in Emma’s possession. And Señor Trevino’s interest in Emma, whether innocent or not, brought out a protective side of Sidney. It must have been his elder brother feelings resurfacing.

When Sidney thought Emma was far enough ahead of them, he turned to the other man. “Señor Trevino, if I might have a word?”

Enrique stopped and gave a slight bow. “But of course.”

Sidney held Enrique’s gaze, allowing his expression to become cold. His voice took on the commanding tone he used during the discipline aboard his ship. “Let us dispense with the deceit. I have no patience for half-truths, so I will give you one chance to answer my questions.” He laid his hand upon the hilt of his sword to give Enrique no doubt that he was serious.

Enrique’s eyes widened and then darted toward the remainder of the group before returning to Sidney.

“If you are afraid that none of the party can reach you in time, should I decide to fillet you like a herring, you are quite correct. However, if you answer honestly, we will have no need for something that would be unpleasant—and actually rather messy—for both of us.”

Enrique crossed himself, and Sidney felt the satisfaction of knowing he had the upper hand. The man had already seen the sharp end of his sword twice in one day and was apparently not eager to repeat the experience.

“Why were you at Matagorda?”

“I told you, Captain. I was a prisoner like yourself.”

Sidney’s hand tightened on the sword’s hilt, and he slowly began to remove it from its sheath.

The soft screech of steel caused Enrique to jump. He held his hands up, moving them as if to push Sidney away. “
Por favor.
I do not lie. I was captured by the French near Chiclana.”

“But you claim to be from Tarifa.”

“Sí. It is the truth. Tarifa is my home. I was inspecting my family’s holdings in Chiclana.”

“Why were you arrested? You are no soldier, and I do not believe you have the constitution for guerilla strikes.” Sidney attempted to imagine Señor Trevino as part of a rebel band using farming tools to savagely attack French troops. He found he could not do it.

“There are other ways to resist the French invaders, Captain. We do not all fight with weapons.”

Sidney narrowed his eyes. “You are a spy?”

“Sí,” Enrique said with a small shrug of his shoulders.

“For whom? The Cortes of Cádiz?”

“No. For the Spanish people still loyal to
el Deseado
, King Fernando.”

“If this is indeed the truth, you would have been executed the moment you were discovered, not imprisoned in a garrison.”

“Sí, but my family is very influential.” Enrique lifted his chin, and the haughtiness that had vanished began to seep back into his countenance. “When Lieutenant Trenchard learned who they are—”

“He kept you while awaiting your ransom.” Sidney slid the sword back but kept his hand upon the hilt. Whether he liked it or not, the man’s story made sense.

Enrique nodded and tipped his head, brushing an imaginary bit of lint off his sleeve. Sidney had nearly had enough of his arrogance.

“Like Señorita Alvarez,” Enrique said. He stepped closer, apparently confident that Sidney had accepted his story. He tipped his head and furrowed his brow. Sidney found the man’s exaggerated facial expressions to be immensely irritating. “I wonder if the señorita is who she claims to be. Her speech tells me she is from Madrid, but I do not recognize her family name, and I am quite familiar with the elite of—”

“Do not attempt to change the subject,” Sidney barked, furious that Enrique would try to turn him against a member of his party. The man was devious. He played mind games, and Sidney’s main weapon against him was, well, his weapon. He shifted his hold on the hilt, drawing Enrique’s attention to the sword once again. “I trust Señorita Alvarez implicitly. I take seriously my duty to the people in my charge, and I will not have you sullying Señorita Alvarez’s or Lady Emma’s reputation with your words or actions.

“And do you think Lady Emma is in danger of sullying her reputation with me?” Enrique asked, raising and lowering his eyebrows.

Hearing these words, Sidney completely forgot that he had a sword and drove his fist into Enrique’s jaw so forcefully that the man collapsed into the mud. Sidney pulled him back up to his knees, holding onto the Spaniard’s collar as he blinked his dazed eyes.

Sidney leaned close, speaking through clenched teeth. “Let me make myself clear. If I feel that you so much as look at Lady Emma in any manner that I deem inappropriate, I will not hesitate to run you through. Do we understand one another?” He shoved Enrique back, tamping down the surge of protectiveness that had again overcome him.

Enrique rubbed his jaw. He nodded. “There is no need for such action, Captain. I am sure we can settle any difficulties like gentlemen.”

“That is where you mistake me, Señor. In such a case, I have no intention of acting like a gentleman.”

Sidney left Enrique wallowing in the mud and walked quickly toward the riverbank, where the rest of the group waited. He did not think any of them had seen the altercation. Based on Emma’s smile and wave as he approached, he felt reassured that she hadn’t seen him lose his temper. He realized that ensuring Emma had no reason to fear anyone, especially him, had risen extremely high on his list of priorities. He attributed it to the absolute trust she had in him. He wouldn’t want her to ever believe it was misplaced, although he knew he did not deserve the honor.

The women stood upon a small hill. Emma called to him, “Sidney, you simply must see this!” She pointed across the marsh. He walked closer until he crested the hill and saw an enormous flock of flamingos.

Emma’s face shone. “Have you ever seen such birds? They are pink!”

Sidney smiled. “Yes, I admit I have. In the West Indies and Galapagos Islands. Lovely, aren’t they?”

“Look how they stand on one leg and dip their long beaks into the water.” Emma clapped her hands together as a number of the flock began to beat their wings and, as one, lifted to fly to another part of the salt marshes. “They are delightful. What was it that you called them, Serena?”

“
Los Flamencos
.” Serena smiled at Emma’s enthusiasm.

Sidney thought of all the times he’d observed similar sights—amazing vistas, exotic animals. He’d always appreciated the fact that the navy had granted him an opportunity to see parts of the world that few others ever would. And the thought that sprang unbidden into his mind was that he wanted to show it all to Emma, to watch her delight as she experienced the wonders of an Indian palace or a South American jungle. He shook his head. It was becoming ridiculous how contented he was with her. Emma
had
a brother to dote on her, and Sidney would do well to remember that family life was not in the cards for him. He was obviously lonely from his months in prison and needed to be returned to his ship and shipmates. Perhaps even some time in Cheshire with his own family would cure him of these strange feelings that Emma was awakening.

Sidney left the ladies to admire the flamingos and turned his attention to Jim a short ways away. The colonel sat upon a white patch of dry ground with the musket across his lap. Jim kept his hand over his eyes, and Sidney could see that his color had not improved. He needed rest. Soon.

“Colonel, how much farther do you intend us to travel today?” Sidney asked. The group had kept a good pace. They had not stopped to eat and had rested only a handful of times. He estimated by the sun’s position that only two hours of daylight remained and possibly less when they reached the hills across the river. The river was close to ninety yards across. Walking through waist-deep water would tax all their strength, but especially Jim’s. And the women would be impeded by their skirts.

“The site is just across the river there.” Jim squinted and shaded his eyes with one hand while he pointed with the other. “Easily defendable, sheltered from weather, and plenty of dry wood and fresh water.”

“Are you sure you’re—” Sidney began.

Jim interrupted him. “We can’t very well camp here, so let’s get on with it,” he said harshly.

Both men glanced up as the women joined them.

“Everything is well, sí?” Serena was saying to Emma.

“Yes,” Emma said. “I am quite all right now.”

“A fit of feminine hysteria.” Jim spoke without removing his hand from his eyes. “Avoiding that sort of thing is precisely why I joined the army in the first place.”

Emma merely raised her brows. Apparently she was becoming used to Jim’s rudeness and did not think his words warranted a response.

Sidney coughed to hide a smile as he watched her reaction.

Enrique joined them but maintained his distance, standing sullenly away from the rest of the group. Sidney made it a point to ignore the Spaniard. He needed the man’s help, but it didn’t mean he had to like him.

“Very well then. Let us get to it.” Sidney began to unload the knapsack, spreading two blankets and a greatcoat upon the ground. He removed his own coat and took Jim’s and Enrique’s, laying them on the blankets; then he began sorting through the pack. He added two white shirts to the pile and wrapped the entire collection into a bundle. He then removed the musket balls and a bag containing gunpowder, handing those items to Serena, who placed them into her haversack. Taking the musket from Jim, he gave it to Serena as well. He wished he could carry it himself—it would be fairly heavy for the small woman—but Sidney knew that Jim needed more help than he was letting on, and should he need to be pulled from the water, the weapon would undoubtedly get wet. Entrusting their only musket to Enrique was simply not an option.

Once it was emptied of ammunition, the pack still contained the heavy cooking equipment and food the doctor had procured. Sidney thrust the knapsack at Enrique.

“Emma, I will need to assist Jim—” Sidney ignored Jim’s protests. “I need you to carry the blankets and coats, and keep them dry.”

“We will cross here?” Emma asked. Sidney could tell she was trying not to sound completely frightened at the idea of wading through the water. She glanced up and down the river.

“The blasted French have destroyed any bridge they are not keeping under guard,” Jim said. “So don’t waste your time searching for one.”

“It is not very deep or . . . ah . . .
rápido
,” Serena said, encouragingly to Emma. “And your skirts will be much cleaner when we reach the other bank.”

Emma simply nodded and lifted the bundle, wavering a bit under the weight of the heavy woolen coats. She was apparently too tired, too hungry, or too resigned to form any sort of protest.

Sidney felt guilty, knowing how difficult the crossing would be after their tiring day, but Jim was right—they had no other choice. He put Jim’s arm over his own shoulders and then led the way down the salt-crusted bank and into the water.

The cool water felt refreshing after the long, hot walk. The river bottom was sandy and soft, and each step required effort. Before long it was waist-deep, and a glance backward showed him that Enrique, Serena, and Emma had each lifted their equipment above their heads. He did not estimate that it would get much deeper, but if it did, they would have to return to the shore and find logs to help them float across.

Nobody spoke as they pushed their way through the water. Jim was practically dead weight. Sidney wasn’t sure if he was even conscious. Luckily the water buoyed him enough that Sidney could hold him up.

Sidney slowed and allowed each member of the group to pass him. It would be easier to keep an eye on them if he didn’t have to continually turn around.

Enrique’s pack was certainly the heaviest, and he did not make an effort to conceal the fact. He huffed and groaned and repeatedly traded arms to rest one at a time.

Serena was able to do the same. With some difficulty, she shifted the musket and her haversack into one hand and shook out the other arm before repeating the same process on the opposite side.

Emma seemed to be having the most difficult time. Her wet skirts were heavy, and while her load was lightest, it was also large and awkwardly shaped. She tried holding her haversack by the strap and moving the large bundle onto her shoulder then lowering one arm to rest it, but the load didn’t balance, and her arms were too short to hold it steady. The river was nearly as high as her chest, and Sidney saw her falter a few times as she encountered a particularly swift-flowing spot. But she carried on, and he felt immensely proud. Even though every instinct in him screamed to help her, he could not let go of Jim.

The water grew shallower as they neared the other side. Instead of helping, this made it more difficult to support their tired arms and heavy loads. Sidney had to hold up most of Jim’s weight as the water was now only slightly past his knees. Serena and Enrique were nearly at the opposite bank, while Emma was at least thirty yards behind. She had lowered the bundle from over her head and held it in front of her chest. Her arms were trembling, and he was sure she could not see where she was going.

Sidney hurried ahead of her to get Jim safely to the opposite bank before returning to assist her. The bank was much steeper than it had appeared, and it took Sidney longer than he’d expected to pull Jim out of the water and help Serena and Enrique. He hurried back, sloshing through the water quickly without his burden. Sidney had nearly reached Emma when he saw her chin trembling.

Her face was pale, and she held the large bundle in front of her. She heard him approach and looked up. At that moment, she stepped on a submerged log that she obviously couldn’t see over her bundle and fell to her knees, dropping the rolled blankets into the water.

Emma grabbed the bundle at the same instant that Sidney grabbed her.

He set her on her feet and moved to take the load from her, but she shook her head.