Once a Soldier (Rogues Redeemed) (22 page)

“If I had been more aware, she needn’t have died,” he said flatly.

Taking a guess, Athena asked, “Is Lily why you feel you need redemption?”

After a long silence, he said, “She was my responsibility, and I failed her.”

The dark side of being a leader was bearing the guilt of everything that went wrong. Choosing her words with care, Athena said, “From what you say, Lily knew her health was weak and that she wouldn’t make old bones. I suspect that she decided to seize life with both hands while she could. She wanted to love and be loved. She wanted passion, and she found those things with you. When she was fading at the end, was she angry? Did she blame you?”

“No,” he said slowly. “But I thought she must be concealing anger so as not to hurt me.” His voice broke. “The last words she said were that she loved me.”

“Oh, Will.” Athena raised his hand and pressed it to her cheek. “That you loved each other was a great blessing, even if the two of you didn’t have enough time together.”

Will exhaled roughly. “You’re wise, little owl. Perhaps you’re right. All I’ve seen for years is the loss and my failure to care for her properly.”

“Haven’t you helped a great many others over the years? For example, risking your life pulling drowning nuns and children out of a river? Didn’t all your rogues in need of redemption pitch in to help?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that I failed Lily.”

“That’s debatable. Even if it were true, we all make mistakes, and decent people punish themselves for things outside their control,” she said gently. “But you’ve done much to balance the scales. Lily on one side, many other generous deeds on the other. Surely, those scales are even by now.”

Will frowned. “I’ll have to think about that. In the meantime, it’s my turn to ask awkward and possibly painful questions. Tell me of your love life. Did you have one great, lost love?”

Reluctantly, she said, “An intense mad calf love that wasn’t fully intimate, and later one great, mad misjudgment. The calf love died when I realized that the object of my infatuation wouldn’t dream of marrying Lady Whore’s Daughter, though he was quite keen on doing anything short of actually ruining me.” She thought she’d discovered true love everlasting. Instead, she’d learned about betrayal.

Will whistled softly. “More and more I understand your low opinion of so-called gentlemen. What about the mad misjudgment?”

She hated having to reveal her stupidity, but she had to admit that Will’s program of probing questions had given them a remarkable degree of emotional intimacy in a very short period of time. She’d never been able to talk to a man like this.

“It wasn’t long after the calf love devastation. I decided I would be like Delilah and take lovers and enjoy wild, passionate affairs, then move on, heart whole.” She sighed. “I liked the passion part, you see.”

“Being passionate is one of your many admirable traits,” Will said firmly. “But I gather that didn’t work out well?”

“I found out I could not lie with a man without coming to care too much, and that way devastation lay,” she explained, unable to keep bitterness from her voice. “That’s when I realized I must resign myself to virtuous spinsterhood.”

Will frowned. “Your lover wouldn’t marry you?”

“He was married already. I was trying to be like Delilah. The affair made me realize I could never, ever be like her. I didn’t even
want
to be like her.” She caught Will’s gaze. “We have come together as two adults, experienced and with our eyes open. That does
not
mean you must marry me, even if you think honor demands it.”

“Honor bedamned, I
want
to marry you!” he said with exasperation. “But now it’s time to sleep. Tomorrow will be another long, tiring day.” He drew her into his arms and tucked the blankets around them, then brushed a kiss on her forehead.

“You aren’t going to give up, are you?” She rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying the relaxed intimacy of his embrace, the feel of his arm around her.

“No, but for the next few days, other concerns will come first.” He hesitated, then went on, “You’re as stubborn as I am, so changing your mind might never happen. But if I’m killed, please, please, go to my brother even if you don’t need help. Tell him about my time in San Gabriel. He’ll want to know.”

“I promise I will,” she whispered. She owed Will that much and more.

So much more.

Chapter 29

Will woke up with his heart pounding, his brain a jumble of loss and panic, of fading Lily and vanishing Athena. His heart slowed down when he saw that Athena still lay sleeping in his arms. He studied her peaceful face and wondered if Justin had been right in his guess of who her father might be. She’d said “the dreadful duke,” and there weren’t very many dukes. Not that it mattered to him, but it surely mattered to her.

She woke and gave him a sweetly sultry smile before her gaze went to the window. Dawn.

“I have to go!” She started to swing from the bed. “I can’t risk being caught in immoral behavior that might reflect badly on Sofia.”

“Just a moment more.
Please.
” His arms locked around her. “I thought we’d wake earlier and have a little more time. I wanted to make love to you again.” But could he have borne that if he’d known it might be the last time?

“That would have been a splendid way to greet the day,” she said softly, her face against his throat, her embrace as tight as his. “But given how very long yesterday was, and how busy we were for much of the night, it’s not surprising that we didn’t wake early.” She pulled away, smiling with a warmth and lack of reserve he’d never seen before. “I did sleep very, very well, though.”

“I also slept well. You’re good for me.” He cupped her cheek, aching with regret for all they might have had. “We might not have another chance to be together. I’ll spend the day organizing the militia, scouting out the ambush area, and planning how to best use my black powder. I might not make it back to the castle tonight. Tomorrow night we’ll be settling into our ambush positions and waiting for the French.”

She bit her lip. “I’ll be equally busy helping to evacuate as many people as possible to safer places, as well as making sure they all have the supplies needed to hold out until the troops return.”

“It’s going to be a busy day, but surely we can fit a short little wedding ceremony in after breakfast?” His tone was light, but he was in dead earnest.

She kissed him and slipped away. “Our schedules are far too busy, my dear Major Masterson.” She scooped her robe up from the floor and pulled it on quickly. As she tied the sash, she whispered, “Keep yourself safe, Will! The world needs you.” Then her graceful figure silently slipped from the room and was gone.

He lay back, staring up at the ceiling, his hands clenched at his sides. He might never see Athena again, and the thought ripped his heart from his chest.

Then he rose, washed and shaved, and donned his uniform. He had a war to fight. And then, by God, he’d come back and change her mind about marriage.

* * *

Breakfast with the Olivieras was somber but not panic-stricken. At least this time, they had warning of the French invasion. Justin was at the far end of the table, bandaged but looking reasonably well. He gave Will a thumbs-up and a smile. Athena wasn’t present, and neither was Sofia. He wondered if they’d already eaten and set off on their tasks, or if Athena was trying to avoid him.

His new captains, Tom Murphy and Gilberto Oliviera, were sitting at one end of the long table, with an empty chair between them, and they beckoned for Will to join them. Like him, they were dressed in their well worn uniforms.

“Where do we begin planning, Generalissimo?” Tom asked, grinning.

“For calling me that, Gilberto will be senior captain and my second in command,” Will said as he took his seat.

“See, Murphy? The generalissimo recognizes superior skill,” Gilberto said teasingly as he passed a plate of savory sausages to Will, followed by another platter of baked eggs with potatoes and peppers.

“It’s just because you’re a Gabrileño,” Tom retorted. A large coffeepot was set in the middle of the table, so he filled Will’s mug, then topped up his and Gilberto’s.

Will took a grateful swallow of coffee. “You’re right, Gilberto is second in command because he’s Gabrileño and knows more about his country than you or I ever will. He is also not prone to lower his dignity by running donkey races.”

“An Irish specialty,” Tom explained to Gilberto. “And great fun.”

Gilberto smiled, but his levity quickly faded. “We’ll not have time for donkey races on this campaign. Major Masterson, what are my duties for the day?”

“You’re in charge of organizing the militiamen, since you know which men are most reliable and who will be steadiest under fire. Your veterans will be the backbone of our forces and they need to be mingled throughout the ranks to steady the others.”

“And me, sir?” Tom asked, also serious.

“You and I will scout the ambush area to figure out where to place our men and the best use of our black powder. Gilberto, can you recommend a scout? Someone to go up the road into Spain and give us warning of advancing troops.”

Gilberto considered. “Joaquim Cavaco. My father says he’s the best young poacher in San Gabriel. He’s quick and clever and looks younger than he is, so if the French notice him, they might not think he’s a danger. The French killed his father last year, so he will be eager to undertake the task. I’ll summon him here so he can guide you up the Spanish road.”

“He sounds perfect,” Will said. “Tom, have you any thoughts about how we should proceed?”

Tom indeed had some thoughts. Most had been considered already, but he had a couple of useful new suggestions. The three of them discussed everything, bouncing ideas off each other. While the commanding officer always had the final word, Will would be a fool not to take advantage of his subordinates’ experience and ideas.

By the time the discussion ended, Will had cleared his plate and was ready to leave. Then silence fell across the dining room as Sofia entered, looking very regal, a tiara on her head.

Athena followed quietly, her expression serious, but wearing a delightful sunshine-yellow morning gown. Just looking at her made Will smile. Her warm, swift return glance did not suggest that she had any regrets about the previous night.

Sofia raised her hand in a command for attention. “My friends, you all know the grave situation that faces us. We will work together to preserve San Gabriel and our way of life, but the burden will fall most heavily on our soldiers, who will face the enemy. William Masterson, Gilberto Oliviera, and Thomas Murphy, please come forward.”

Surprised, the three men stood and crossed the room to face Sofia. “Gilberto Oliviera, you are now promoted to captain in the Army of San Gabriel. Step forward so I can attach the insignia of your rank.”

Gilberto obeyed, saying under his breath, “You’re getting quite good at being royal, Sofi!”

She smiled at her old playmate and said equally quietly, “Behave yourself or I might accidentally stab you while I pin this on.”

He stood at attention and saluted her, saying with complete seriousness, “Your royal highness, I will do my duty to San Gabriel, even if it costs me my life.”

“See that it doesn’t, you scamp!” his mother said in a voice that carried through the room and produced a ripple of laughter.

Suppressing a smile, Sofia said, “Thomas Murphy, you have embraced this land as your own. I now commission you as a captain in the Army of San Gabriel.”

“I am honored, your royal highness,” he said firmly. After the princess pinned on the insignia, he saluted her crisply.

Then it was Will’s turn. “Major Lord Masterson, in the brief time you’ve been in San Gabriel, you have already done much to help my country rebuild from the devastation of war,” Sofia said in ringing tones. “Now by virtue of your experience and skill, I appoint you commander in chief of the Army of San Gabriel. You said that you never wished to be a general, so I give you the rank of colonel.”

She stepped up to him with the insignia of rank. She was so very small.

“Any rank will do, as long as it’s higher than the others,” he said with a smile.

“Indeed.” She had to stand on her toes to attach the insignia to his shoulders. Stepping back, she said, “For as long as you are commander in chief, you also have the right to carry the Royal Sword of San Gabriel. Lady Athena, pray present it to Colonel Lord Masterson.”

Athena stepped forward and offered him a shining sword with both hands. Startled, he took the weapon from her, saying softly, “Athena, goddess of war indeed!”

“Would that the sword wasn’t needed!” she replied. “It’s Damascus steel, strong and supple and very old.”

The hilt glinted with inlaid gold wire patterns, but when he took the weapon in hand and made several experimental thrusts, he found that it was beautifully balanced. He usually carried a larger blade better suited to his height, but this one would do very well.

He raised the sword and clasped its hilt to his chest in a salute. “It’s a magnificent sword, your royal highness. I am proud to wield it on behalf of San Gabriel.”

“I know you shall carry it with honor.” Sofia’s gaze swept across the room, touching the familiar faces of her friends. “And may God and the Blessed Mother keep us all safe!”

* * *

Joaquim Cavaco was a clever imp who enthusiastically agreed to scout beyond San Gabriel’s borders to watch for the approaching French forces. He was sixteen, but looked about twelve; and in his shabby brown-and-tan clothing, he blended in well with the landscape.

With some regret, he refused the offer of a horse to ride, saying that a mule was more sure-footed and more likely to be ridden by a shabby boy. If he were Spanish, he’d have been a natural to join the Spanish guerillas. Without the guerilla bands, Wellington never would have been able to drive the French from the Peninsula.

Will and Joaquim and Tom rode together up the road to Spain. As they passed the shrine of the Madonna de las Rosas, Will noted that a bouquet of summer flowers had been placed in front of the crude statue of the Madonna so recently that they hadn’t yet started to wilt. A prayer for divine aid against the French, perhaps.

As they continued along the road, Will said, “If I recall correctly, the section of sunken road isn’t much farther.”

“You’ve a good eye for the country, sir,” Tom commented. “I barely noticed it when we came this way before.”

“All the Gabrileños were mad keen to get home so we rushed through here.” Will shaded his eyes as he studied the road ahead. The sunken area was a little under half a mile long, he judged. The road was narrow and steep, but many, many feet and hooves over the centuries had worn it down so that it was between eight and twelve feet below the stony embankments on each side.

“Joaquim, you know this country well. Are there any geographical features that might help us make our ambush successful?”

The boy thought. “A small dry arroyo goes up behind the embankment on the left. It comes out just ahead.” He studied the ground as they continued along the road, then pointed. “Here. We can ride the first part, but not all the way to the top.”

The route didn’t look like much more than a goat track, but it ran in the right direction. They proceeded up the hillside a short distance before coming to a small meadow with a spring. The track beyond was much steeper, so they dismounted and tethered their mounts by the spring, then continued on foot.

Higher up, the shallow ditch ran roughly parallel with the embankment above the road, but a couple of feet lower. “Perfect!” Will said. “We can lie low here until the French are reported coming, then move into position above the road.”

Tom nodded agreement. “Do you want us stationed on one side or both sides?”

“Both sides so we can catch the French in a cross fire. But more men on this side, I think, because it will be easier to lie concealed until we’re ready to attack.”

“So I see the French and come galloping back to warn everyone,” Joaquim said. “Where will you be, Colonel?”

Will stood on the embankment and studied the terrain. “Down at the lower end, farthest into the valley, on this side.” He pointed out the location. “When the French are as enclosed as they’re going to get, I’ll fire the first shot as a signal for the attack. Tom, I’ll want you at the upper end on the opposite side to help steady the militia, with Gilberto across from you, and the next most senior sergeant of the veterans opposite me.”

“Makes sense, but you’re at the point where the embankment is lowest. If any of the French devils are mounted and have their wits about them, they’ll charge right up the embankment to your position.”

Will shrugged. “Someone needs to be there and I’m a good shot.” He turned to their scout. “Joaquim, are you ready to set off into Spain to watch for the French?”

“Yes, sir.” He gave a smart salute. “I have enough supplies for two or three days, which should be long enough if your pet Frenchman is telling the truth.”

“I’m reasonably sure he’s telling the truth as he knows it, but plans do change.” Will held out his hand to the boy.
“Vaya con Dios,
Joaquim.
”

The boy grinned. “If I do a good job, can I keep the mule?”

Will laughed. “Indeed you can.”

As Joaquim skittered down the hill to the meadow where his mule was tethered, Will said, “Tom, what’s the best use of our limited supplies of black powder? I didn’t expect a war, so much of what Ballard brought up has to be used for the firearms, and thank God we have it. What can we do with the rest?”

“How about if we pack it into a few wooden boxes and set them along the enemy’s line of march? Then fire into the boxes when they come by. The times we’ve done that, it’s been effective.” Tom smiled. “Makes a fine great bang, it does.”

Will considered. “That works well in some cases, but it uses a lot of gunpowder. Even if we try to disguise the boxes, they might call attention to themselves as being out of place on a reasonably clear road. Plus, shooting them will be difficult if the French come through in the dark, which seems likely.”