Soldier of Fortune (21 page)

Sergeant
Henry Welbeck had fought with his usual blend of skill and ferocity when they
stormed the hill. Now that the battle was over, it was time for recriminations.
Alone with Daniel Rawson, he felt able to express his complaints in language he
would never dare to use to any other officer. Daniel's tent gave him the
freedom of privacy.

'It
was bloody madness, Dan!' he bellowed. 'Sending us up that hill was the worst
fucking thing that Corporal John has done.'

'The
end justifies the means, Henry.'

'He
always used to
care
for his men.'

'He
still does,' said Daniel, 'but there was no way that he could protect them
yesterday. They had to be ordered into battle.'

'But
why did it have to be British bloody soldiers who died? Aren't there enough
Dutch and Danish and Austrian troops to send off to their deaths? Why did we
have to provide the Forlorn Hope?' he went on. 'More to the point, why did you
take leave of your bloody senses and volunteer to join it?'

'I
wanted to be in the thick of the action.'

'Well,
you came very close to being in an early grave. I had to organise the burial
details. Do you know how many of my men I saw being dropped into the ground -
what was left of them, that is. Going up that hill was nothing short of
suicide.'

'What
else could we have done, Henry?'

'We
could've had a good night's rest, for a start.'

Daniel
laughed. 'Have you ever rested on eve of a battle?'

'You
know what I mean, Dan. We'd marched all day. We were in no condition to give of
our best. Yet that's what His Grace, the Duke of Bloody Marlborough, expected
us to do.'

'I
saw nobody shirking on the battlefield.'

'It
was needless fucking slaughter.'

'They
had far more casualties,' said Daniel.

Welbeck
glowered. 'Is that supposed to make me feel better?'

'We
won, Henry. That's all that matters.'

'Thank
you for telling me,' said the other sarcastically.

Daniel
was sitting on a camp stool but his friend was striding restlessly to and fro.
Both of them had picked up their share of grazes and bruises during the battle.
Welbeck had been stabbed in the arm by an enemy bayonet and the wound was
heavily bandaged. He had also acquired a black eye. Daniel's face had been
washed but his scars and bruises remained and his lower lip was swollen. The
gash on his back had been cleaned and dressed. Now that the thrill of battle
had gone, he could feel every bruise and abrasion but, in view of their
victory, it was an almost satisfying pain.

'At
least, you were there,' said Welbeck, stopping beside him. 'I heard that
someone tried to kill you.'

'Thousands
of French and Bavarians tried to kill me, Henry.' 'I'm talking about what
happened in this camp.'

'Ah,
yes - that.'

Welbeck
was scornful. 'Listen to the man!' he said. 'Someone fires a shot at him and
all he can say is "Ah, yes - that." If it had been me, I'd be
furious.'

'You
always are, Henry.'

'What
exactly happened?'

Daniel
gave him a brief account of the walk beside the stream. When he was told that
Abigail Piper had fainted in Daniel's arms, the sergeant emitted a howl of
contempt.

'Bloody
women!' he exclaimed. 'She distracted you, Dan.'

'I
should have been more careful, I agree.'

'From
the way you tell it, I could almost believe she led you to that particular spot
so that an accomplice could take a shot at you.'

'That's
arrant nonsense,' said Daniel hotly. 'Abigail loves me. She'd rather take a
bullet herself than see me killed. No, Henry, it was pure coincidence that we
were on the edge of the camp like that.'

'It
was no coincidence that the man who fired the pistol was there. He was lying in
wait, Dan. And although you didn't see so much as a glimpse of his arse as he
ran away, I reckon I could put a name to the bastard.'

'Can
you?'

'Of
course - it was Will Curtis, as he used to call himself.'

'You
could be right,' said Daniel, mulling it over. 'He crossed my mind as well. He
or his accomplice failed to kill me in this very tent so he had a second
attempt.'

'He
would have known how we pitched our camp and where to find the British
contingent. It has to be Will Curtis.'

'But
why single out
me
,
Henry?'

'Haven't
you worked that out yet?'

'I'm
not that important to the army.'

'This
is nothing to do with army matters,' said Welbeck, hands on his hips. 'You've
been sewing wild oats in someone else's field, Dan Rawson. That's my guess,
anyway. This is the work of some bloody woman - or of her husband, anyway.
You've upset him by tupping his wife. He's after your balls.'

It
was a sobering thought and it brought Daniel to his feet. Until now, he had
forgotten all about Berenice Salignac and their time together in Paris. She
suddenly came rushing back into his mind, accompanied by the spectre of her
husband.

It
was a risk that could pay handsome dividends. Having grown a beard, Charles
Catto completed his disguise by winding a bandage around his head so that it
half-covered an eye. He had kept the uniform in which he had fled the camp and
put it on once more. If he were caught, he expected no mercy but then he would
get none from General Salignac if he failed. Trapped between menacing
alternatives, he chose the one that was at hand.

'How
do I look, Frédéric?' he asked.

'Like
someone I ought to kill,' replied Seurel, studying him through narrowed lids.
'What happens if someone recognises you?'

'Then
he'll have excellent eyesight.'

'You're
taking a big chance, Charles.'

'There's
a big reward if I succeed,' said Catto. 'I'll keep well away from the men I met
when I enlisted, especially that crusty Sergeant Welbeck. He's the one person
who might pick me out.'

'What
do I do?'

'Wait
until I return.'

'And
if you don't get back?'

'Then
you'll know I was caught. That's highly unlikely, however,' said Catto. 'You
know what armies are like after a battle. All they want to do is to rest, nurse
their wounds, mourn their dead comrades and boast about what they did to secure
the victory. None of them will even remember their brief acquaintance with
Private Will Curtis.'

'How
will you get into the camp?'

'Leave
that to me, Frédéric.'

'As
long as you don't kill Captain Rawson,' said Seurel with a warning growl. 'He's
all mine.'

'I
don't expect to get anywhere near the captain this time.'

'Then
why are you going to the British camp?'

'For
the best possible reason,' said Catto suavely, adjusting the bandage over his
eyebrow before putting on his tricorn hat. 'I'm going to meet a beautiful young
lady.'

Abigail
Piper had been shaken to the core by what she had seen. To be so close to so
many grotesque injuries had been a revelation to her. Tales of military heroism
heard at the dinner table were always exciting but they never dwelt on the
savagery and anguish of a battle. They never mentioned the consequences.
Abigail felt the need to be alone. Emily Greene was happy to go off and talk to
some of the other women, leaving her mistress in their tent. There was one
consolation for Abigail. A scribbled note from Daniel Rawson had assured her
that he was alive and well. She had gone dizzy with relief.

Perched
on a stool in her tent, she now began for the first time to question her
actions in sailing after the army. Daniel had given her no encouragement to do
so and had seemed faintly embarrassed by her arrival. They were meeting in the
wrong place at the wrong time. As long as he was engaged in the campaign, she
now understood, there would never be a right time. Abigail was in the way. It
was a painful truth but it had to be acknowledged. With disarming politeness,
the Duke of Marlborough had made the same point to her.

She
was still locked in thought when a voice interrupted her.

'Abigail,'
said Daniel from outside the tent. 'Are you there?'

'Yes,
yes,' she answered, leaping up and opening the flap to let him in. 'I've been
hoping against hope that you would come, Daniel.'

Expecting
an embrace, she was instead checked by his battered appearance. The cuts,
grazes, and swollen lip disfigured his face. A dark bruise coloured his
forehead. She stepped back in dismay.

'I'm
sorry that I don't look my best,' he apologised.

'I
thought that you'd be unharmed.'

'It's
asking too much to avoid any injury in a battle. The wonder is that I'm still
standing. The Forlorn Hope was indeed forlorn. Most of my comrades were killed
outright.'

'I
pleaded with you not to join them.'

'I'm
always going to chase glory, Abigail, and I love the sensation of leading an
attack on the enemy. It sets the blood racing in a way that nothing else
could.'

'I'm
so glad that you came safely through the battle,' she said. 'I know that
hundreds of our men died and I saw how badly wounded some of the survivors
were. Had you been among them, I'd have been inconsolable.' She searched his
eyes for a full minute before continuing. 'Why didn't you tell me, Daniel?'

'Tell
you what?'

'About
what happened when we went for that walk together.'

'I
did tell you,' he said. 'You fainted and I carried you away.'

'That
isn't true. Emily spoke to one of the women here. Her husband was on picket
duty and heard a shot being fired. When he ran to find out what was going on,
he saw you on the ground beside me as if you were taking cover from something.
The reason you picked me up,' she said, 'was that you wanted to carry me to
safety.'

'Yes,'
he confessed. 'That was exactly the reason.'

'So
why did you mention none of this to me?'

'I
didn't want to frighten you, Abigail.'

'If
someone is set on killing you, I want to know why.'

'It's
usually because they belong to an opposing army,' he said with a carefree
smile, 'and I don't blame them for that. It's what they're trained to do. A red
coat is a tempting target.'

'But
when we stopped beside that stream,' she argued, 'there were other soldiers in
red coats not far away. Why was the shot fired at you and not at one of them?'

'I
can't answer that.'

'In
other words, you won't tell me.'

'The
truth of it is, I don't know.'

'You
must have some suspicion.'

'Oh,
I do,' he said, 'but suspicion is nothing without proof.'

'Tell
me what you suspect.'

'This
is not your concern, Abigail.'

'Any
danger you face is my concern,' she countered, 'and since I was there at the
time, I think I deserve to be told why someone fired a shot at you?'

'All
that I can do is to hazard a guess.' 'Go on.'

'It's
pure speculation, Abigail.'

'I'd
still like to hear it.'

He
collected his thoughts. 'I was in Paris a few months ago to gather
intelligence,' he explained. 'That meant winning the confidence of people who
would have been very angry when they learnt that I was, in fact, a spy. It's
possible - only possible - that someone felt the urge to kill me because I'd
betrayed them.'

'Is
this the first time there's been an attempt like this?'

'No,'
he admitted. 'There was an incident some while ago.'

'What
happened?'

'I
escaped the attacker,' he said evasively. 'And I did the same again when we
took that walk. If there's a third attempt, I'll catch the man behind it. I'm
on guard now.'

'This
is dreadful!' she said. 'Someone is lying in wait for you.'

'There's
nowhere safer to be than in the middle of thousands of armed soldiers,' he
claimed, hiding from her the fact that the would-be assassin had actually
contrived to get inside the camp on the first occasion. 'I have no fears for
myself. My concern was for you, Abigail. What I heard was a pistol shot. It's
difficult to be accurate over that distance with such a weapon. The bullet
intended for me might easily have hit you instead.'

'I
was so scared when I realised that.'

'There
was no need for you ever to know.'

'But
there was,' she retorted. 'I hate being treated like a child who's too young
and frail to be told the truth. Knowing the facts may hurt me but I'd much
rather that than be kept ignorant of them.' 'Everything is now in the open,' he
said.

'And
you swear that you'll take extra care from now on?'

'I'll
take every precaution.'

'Thank
you, Daniel.'

Abigail
was disappointed. Having fretted so long over the possibility that he had been
killed or wounded in battle, she had hoped that any reunion between them would
have more urgency and passion. Daniel had been profoundly altered by combat. It
was not merely his physical appearance that had changed but his manner. He was
still storming the Schellenberg and fighting his way over the walls of
Donauworth. He was still mourning the dead. Since his arrival, Daniel had been
never less than affable but never more than courteous. Even though he stood
only a foot away from him, Abigail could not reach him in the way she desired.
It all served to reinforce the decision that she had made.

'I've
finally accepted the truth,' she said with a wan smile.

'What
truth?'

'This
is no place for me, Daniel. We can't be together here.'

'I
could have told you that before you set out from England.'

'I
had to come and I don't regret that I did so. It's taught me a great deal about
you and about army life. Most important of all, I think, it's taught me a lot
about myself.'

'You
should be proud of what you did,' he said encouragingly. 'It took immense
willpower - and a touch of folly.'

'All
I can see at the moment is the folly.'

'You
have nothing to be ashamed of, Abigail. I admire the spirit you've shown and
I'm grateful that you had such a reliable helpmeet in Emily. I do hope that Sir
Nicholas can find it in his heart to forgive her for joining you on your wild
adventure.'

'He
made a point of saying so in his letter,' she said. 'I've read it several times
now and it always brings me to tears. Father is so kind and understanding. He
knows that Emily did not lead me astray. In a sense, she's the victim of my
recklessness. When we get back home, her position will be safe.'

'I'm
pleased to hear it.'

'And
you'll be pleased to see me go as well, won't you?'

'Pleased
and displeased,' he said frankly. 'I'm happy that you are leaving a theatre of
war where even fiercer fighting may soon take place but I'm sorry to see you
go, Abigail. I'll miss you.'

'I'd
stay if you asked me to, Daniel,' she offered gamely.

'No,
no, I certainly won't do that. You've made a wise decision and I applaud it.
His Grace will do likewise and supply you with an escort all the way back to
Holland.'

'After
the setbacks on the way here, that will be a blessing.'

'When
will you go?'

'Tomorrow
or the day after,' she said, 'all being well.'

'We're
in enemy territory but we've scattered their army far and wide so you should
encounter no real obstacles.'

'That's
reassuring to hear.'

'I'll
make His Grace aware of your intentions.'

'I'll
hope to see him before I go,' she said. 'I know that he's very busy at the
moment but I'd like the opportunity to apologise to him for popping up the way
that I did. In retrospect, I can see that it was highly inconvenient for him.
Also, of course, I wish to bid him a proper farewell.' Uncertainty crept into
her voice. 'Will there be any chance my doing the same for you?'

Daniel
was torn between desire and relief, wanting to embrace her yet glad that she
was returning home. Their friendship could only ever develop in England where Abigail
was in her own environment and where he had the leisure for a dalliance. On a
military campaign, she was an incongruity and her presence in the camp was
bound to hamper Daniel. As long as she was there, his guilt would continue to
trouble him and he would feel responsible for her. Abigail was gazing up at him
with large, adoring, questioning eyes.

Daniel
wanted to leave her on a note of promise. Instead of taking her in his arms, he
settled for leaning over and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

'Yes,
Abigail,' he said. 'When the time comes, we'll exchange proper farewells. I'll
insist upon it.' She laughed gratefully. 'Until then, get plenty of rest while
you can, happy in the knowledge that you have thousands of soldiers to guard
you.'