Lady Emma's Campaign (12 page)

“It was my one duty. I will finish it.” Her voice was exhausted, and she sounded near to tears.

Sidney felt a swell of pride in his chest. He put his arm around her, much the same way he had supported Jim, and together they slogged toward the riverbank.

“I am sorry.” Emma’s voice cracked, and she sniffed. “My arms are just so tired, and now everybody will be wet tonight.”

“Emma, you are the only one I worry about. Being a bit damp on a warm Spanish plain will never compare to where the remainder of us spent last night.”

“I have made a disaster of every task I have set out to do,” she said. “And I can only imagine what Colonel Stackhouse will have to say when he sees that his coat is wet.”

“If you delivered him a brand new coat, fashioned from unicorn hide, and hand sewn by the Prince Regent himself, the colonel would still find a reason to complain.”

Emma’s smile was halfhearted at best, and Sidney tightened his arm around her.

When they reached the bank, Serena and Enrique helped pull them up, and the group made their way to the base of a rocky cliff with Emma still holding the dripping bundle. Sidney found it hard to believe how different the landscape was on the other side of the river. Jim had been right about the spot. It was strategically perfect. It would be difficult for anyone to sneak up on them with the river on one side and the steep mountain on the other. Fresh water flowed from a mountain stream nearby, and trees and shrubs surrounded them.

They wrung out their dripping clothes as well as they could. Serena set about finding wood for a fire, and Emma began to lay out the coats and blankets to dry, hanging them from branches and spreading them over shrubs. Sidney found a comfortable spot for Jim, who immediately fell asleep. In just a matter of a half hour, the group’s spirits had lifted considerably. It was amazing what a fire and the smell of dinner cooking could do for morale. Enrique, surprisingly enough, turned out to have some talent when it came to combining ingredients and soon had a stew of sorts with beans, spices, and some dried meat.

Serena woke Jim and urged him to eat.

It was not long before the shadows of the cliffs grew across the campsite, and the group began to move closer to the fire. Emma shivered and then rose to rearrange the drying blankets and coats.

When it was fully dark, Sidney bid everyone good night, admonishing them to all rest well, as they would have a full day of walking on the morrow.

Enrique did not need any more encouragement. He lay near Jim and was snoring within minutes.

Sidney took the musket, turning away to take up his post as sentinel.

Emma’s voice stopped him. “Sidney, are you leaving?” He heard a nervous quiver in her tone.

He tried to sound reassuring. “Just moving a short distance away to keep watch.”

“Oh.” Emma rubbed her arms. “You will not stay awake all night, surely. You must be as tired as the rest of us.”

“I’m afraid I must. Jim needs his sleep to recover from his injury, and Enrique . . . I do not know him well enough to entrust all of our lives to him.”

“You will be cold. I am sorry about your coat.”

“No more apologies, Emma. I have spent many nights much colder than this on watch. Mostly thanks to the kindness of my commanding officer, Captain Drake.” He winked at her, and Emma smiled uncertainly. “Do not make yourself worried on my account. I plan to enjoy my first night of freedom watching the stars and listening to the sounds of the night.

Emma seemed to consider his words for a moment before she nodded. “Good night then.” She dipped in a small curtsey and walked back to the fire to join Serena.

Sidney walked slowly away from the camp. Another thing he could thank the years of naval service for was his ability to keep himself awake even when his body cried out for sleep. He’d spent the past several weeks abused, malnourished, and isolated. His body was physically and emotionally exhausted, and the responsibility of his small company’s safety weighed heavily on him. One injured colonel, one devious Spaniard, and two women. How would he possibly get this group through enemy territory and deliver them safely to Tarifa? He let out a heavy breath and, for a moment, allowed himself to feel the full burden of his anxiety. Then he pushed it aside as he had done so often commanding lives upon his ship. These people depended upon him, and he would do whatever was required to protect them.

He found a spot that afforded a good view of the camp but was far enough away that his eyes would adjust to the darkness and not be blinded by the firelight. He listened contentedly to the low murmur of women’s voices then the sounds of the fire crackling. Noises that he would never take for granted again. Sidney sat back, admiring the moon as it rose above the river and smiled to himself as he tried to remember the last time anyone had bid him good night.

Emma lay upon the hard
earth. She had tired of shifting her position. No amount of moving would make the ground comfortable. She felt cold and her underclothing was still damp. If only she were not wearing so many layers beneath her dress. What she wouldn’t give to remove her corset, petticoats, chemise, and small clothes; slip into a dry nightgown; and crawl into a soft, warm bed.

On top of her physical discomfort, the nocturnal noises startled and frightened her. She even thought she heard a wolf howling. When she did finally begin to relax, scenes of the battle unfolded in her mind, jarring her out of any sort of restfulness.

Finally, Emma rose from where she lay next to Serena and walked around the campsite, checking and adjusting each wet blanket, shirt, and coat. She stood next to the fire, holding her thin shawl around her shoulders and shaking her skirts, hoping to dry them. She picked up one of the blankets and took it close to the fire, raising and lowering it and turning it around to repeat the process. She continued for some time until it was dry and then laid it over Serena, tucking it around her. Then Emma went back to the fire and placed some more wood over the flames. She repeated the process, this time with the soldier’s great coat. The heavy wool took quite a bit longer than the blanket, and when she had finished, she stood for a moment, hesitating before walking toward Jim and spreading it over the sleeping colonel.

She picked up Sidney’s coat from where it hung upon a low branch and began to dry it in the same way.

“You need to sleep, Emma.” She was startled to hear Sidney’s voice behind her, and she turned.

“I am nearly finished. I did not want everyone to be cold.” She looked at him then lowered her lashes. “I have never slept outside before.”

“I will be close by if you should need me.”

Emma nodded but made no move to leave the fire. She pulled the sleeves inside out and held the jacket closer to the heat.

Sidney set the musket against a rock then picked up a blanket, bringing it to the fire. He followed her lead, raising it and lowering it, shaking it and turning it until he was apparently satisfied. He took his coat from Emma, put it on, then wrapped the warm blanket around her. “Now sleep. Tomorrow will be another long day, and”—there was a rustling in the branches above them as a bird moved in the trees.

Emma looked up and moved closer until Sidney held her in an embrace—“I will watch over you,” he said, and she could feel his voice rumbling in his chest.

She wished she could remain in the circle of his arms forever. There was nowhere she felt safer. But all too soon, the moment ended, and he stepped back, his hands upon her shoulders.

She tipped her head back to look up at him. The fire cast moving shadows over his bruised face, but his eyes held warmth. “Remember, you are a brave soldier.” He winked and picked up his weapon before leaving the circle of the firelight.

As Emma lay back down next to Serena, she sighed contentedly.
Who knew that something as simple as an embrace from Sidney Fletcher could banish my fears and turn the cold, hard ground into a warm, snug bed?

***

When Emma awoke, she peered out of the cocoon of her blanket. Serena stirred something in a pot over the fire, talking to Enrique. Near them, Jim was sitting upon a rock sharpening his knife in long strokes. Emma stretched, wincing at the stiffness in her body and the soreness of her feet. She stood and folded her blanket then moved to where she had left her boots the night before, hoping they were dry. She lifted a boot, noticing it felt heavy. When something inside moved, she jumped back, dropping it. The boot landed on the ground and a snake slid out.

Emma’s mind emptied of all rational thought, and she shrieked, scrambling up onto a rock. Her screams grew louder as the snake slithered across the ground toward her.

Emma heard a whistling sound followed by a
thunk
and saw the snake jerk then lay still. It took her a moment to realize Jim’s quivering knife had speared the snake, fastening it to the ground.

She let loose with another scream that shook the hillside.

Sidney tore into the camp. His sword was brandished, and he looked around frantically, trying to figure out what was going on. He had obviously run from the stream. His hair was combed back and held with a cord. Wet strands hung over his forehead and ears. He wore a clean shirt that he’d apparently been in the middle of buttoning when he had heard the screaming.

“What the devil is going on?” Sidney demanded, looking around.

Emma didn’t bother to pretend to be shocked by his language.

His gaze landed upon the snake and understanding registered in his eyes. He resheathed his sword, the corners of his mouth twitching. He was clean and freshly shaven, standing tall and handsome with a strong jaw and laughing eyes. A few bruises and scrapes still marked his face, but he was every bit the Sidney she remembered. Heat flooded over Emma’s cheeks. She sucked in a breath and put her hand over her mouth, attempting to hold back the wave of emotion that had suddenly overtaken her at his appearance. He looked every bit the man who had stolen her heart all those years ago.

“Lady Emma’s found breakfast.” Jim walked across the campsite to pull his knife from the ground.

Emma had completely forgotten the snake. She avoided Sidney’s eyes as he offered his hand to help her step down from the rock. Her head felt light, and her heart pounded. She hoped the group assumed that she was merely overcome by reptile terror. Her reaction to Sidney was simply ridiculous under such circumstances, she chided herself.

Sidney tilted his head to catch her gaze. “Do not be distressed. Jim has dispatched the snake; although if he had not, I am certain the screaming would have done the job. It nearly frightened the life out of me.” He grinned.

“I was startled. I did not mean to react in such an absurd manner.” Emma kept her head down, not wanting Sidney to see the color in her cheeks.

“Nonsense, I have heard many a weathered veteran shriek in a similar situation.” He squeezed her hand and lifted his eyebrows, attempting to coax a smile, but Emma was too overwhelmed by her rush of emotions. She forced her lips to curl but knew it did not look natural.

Sidney continued in his attempt to cheer her up. “Perhaps you would like to ask your brother about the time we came ashore in Fiji. While the ship was being resupplied, some of the men slept on the beach. When they awoke and found themselves surrounded by hundreds of iguana lizards who had decided to bivouac among them, the squeals and cries could be heard all the way to the ship.” He laid his other hand upon her shoulder. “You are not still troubled?”

“No. Although I am terribly embarrassed.”

“There is no need—” Sidney was interrupted when Serena joined them.

“Perhaps, Emma, you will join me to freshen up this morning?”

In all the excitement, Emma hadn’t even considered her appearance. She had slept without unpinning her tresses and had not given a thought to curling papers. Wincing, she imagined her hair sticking in all directions. Emma glanced around the camp. The sight of Jim slicing the skin off the snake was the last bit of encouragement she needed to follow Serena to the stream.

Emma withdrew her hand from Sidney’s, eager to escape. Her reaction to Sidney had shaken her, and she wanted some time to compose herself.

The morning air had a slight chill as the women made their way through the shade of the trees, following the burbling sound of running water and emerging in an open, sunny field at the base of the high mountain.

The stream was cold, but it felt wonderful to wash her face and hands. Emma sat back on the rocky bank and, following Serena’s example, pulled off her stockings to let the cold water wash over her sore feet. She hadn’t realized how much damage one day of walking in ill-fitting boots could do.

Serena leaned her head back, resting on her hands. Her hair was nearly long enough to brush the rock she sat on. She closed her eyes, turning her face to the sun. “You have known Captain Fletcher for a long time?”

“Yes. Since I was a young girl. He is a close friend of my brother.” Emma wondered again about Sidney and Serena’s relationship.

“He is a good man.” Serena did not open her eyes. “The first time we met him, Colonel Stackhouse told me we can trust him. He knew the captain will help us escape from the prison. And he was
correcto
.” Serena allowed a smile to touch her face.

Emma remained quiet. It did not seem as if Serena sought a reply.

“And Captain Fletcher is very handsome, no?”

Emma had lifted her feet from the cold water to examine the blisters, and Serena’s question caught her off guard. She glanced up, ready to give a casual answer, but the words lodged in her throat when she saw Serena’s expression. The woman’s dark eyes searched her face, but instead of scrutiny, they held compassion. Emma knew she could confide in her.

“He is handsome. I had forgotten until just now, how he looked . . . before.”

“And you love him.”

Emma returned her attention to her feet. “Is it so very obvious?”

“Only to another woman. The men, they notice nothing.”

Emma looked up and gave her a half-hearted smile. “He does not know.”

“I did not realize until today. But I should have seen this. I should have guessed this is why you came to España at such a time. And Captain Fletcher, he is very lucky to have one such as you.”

Serena had brought a comb from the soldier’s pack, and she moved to sit on the rock behind Emma, unpinning her hair, then pulling the comb through it.

Emma allowed herself to relax. The gentle tugs felt wonderful, and she was relieved to have Serena for a friend and not a rival.

“And why are you here?” Emma asked, feeling emboldened by Serena’s lack of propriety and finding it easier to talk when they weren’t facing one another. “I mean, why were you at the prison? Did you travel with the army?”

Serena was quiet for so long that Emma began to worry. Was it offensive to imply that someone was a camp follower? Serena twisted Emma’s hair, holding it atop her head and replacing the pins. Finally, she laid a hand upon Emma’s shoulder, turning her partly around to look her in the eye, their knees nearly touching.

“I travel to England with Colonel Stackhouse. My brother awaits me there. We were part of a larger party, captured three weeks ago, and . . .” Serena’s eyes were wet. She swallowed, blinking hard.

Emma’s chest suddenly felt heavy. “The rest of your company was killed?”

Serena nodded.

“I am sorry. Was one of the soldiers your husband?”

“No. The dispatch were
guardas
.”

“Guards? What were they guarding?”

Serena leaned close; her hand was still on Emma’s shoulder. Her eyes darted toward the camp once before she said softly, “My father, he is very
importante
to the Spanish government.
Un grandee—
a nobleman. The army thought the French would use me to hurt him if I was captured. It was the plan to have the group escort me from España to safety.”

Emma looked at Serena. She certainly had the mannerisms and poise of nobility. “And you travel incognito, dressed as a . . .”

“
Una maja.
A peasant.”

Emma remained quiet, guilt churning in her stomach. Serena had worn peasant clothing for weeks, possibly longer, as she marched with soldiers. No wonder she had been irritated when Emma had refused to wear the old boots.

“Colonel Stackhouse is an officer,” Emma said, piecing together the things she had learned from William’s shipmates about prisons and ransom. “The warden no doubt kept him for an exchange.” She tilted her head, hoping she did not speak offensively. “Why were you afforded such comfortable living quarters if your identity was unknown?”

“It was the colonel’s idea. When we were captured, he told them the truth. It saved my life. But he did not tell them the true name of
mi familia
.” Serena’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she raised her chin. “The French soldiers in the fort, they do not know the noble houses of España.”

Emma took the comb from Serena and motioned for her to turn around. She ran the comb through the other woman’s hair. If it was all true, Serena was every bit the gentlewoman Emma was. And she had traveled much longer, slept in a prison, and watched a troop of men die in her defense. How did she maintain such calm when Emma couldn’t manage a few hours without either screaming or breaking down in tears?

Serena kept talking. “Mi familia, we are loyal to
el Deseado
, King Fernando. But many of our friends support France,
afrancesados
.” She said the word as if it left a sour taste in her mouth. “My parents, they were taken to France as prisoners. I fled to the home of our family friends in a small village near Sevilla. When the French army came, they storm through the village, burning and killing and stealing everything in sight. I hid in the small chapel behind the house. I do not know what happened to my friends. Colonel Stackhouse, he found me. He protects me ever since.” Serena spoke like she had forgotten Emma was there. The words tumbled out as if she’d held them in too long and needed to unburden herself.

Emma continued to draw the comb through Serena’s hair as she listened, hoping the action was soothing.

Serena’s shoulders drooped. “Sometimes I smell the smoke and hear the screams in my sleep. Colonel Stackhouse’s men, I remember the face of each of them. I see them when I close my eyes. They died because of me. I do not know whether I will see mi familia again. I do not know which of my friends are alive or whether my home is gone. These French, they have taken everything from me.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper, followed by a sob.

Without even realizing it, Emma had pulled Serena into her arms and was holding her while she shook and cried.

How did one comfort someone who had seen the things Serena had? Emma thought back to the times she had been held by her mother in this same way when her father had berated her or struck her. It hadn’t been her mother’s words that had made a difference. Emma had simply wanted to feel as though someone loved her.