His Counterfeit Condesa (Historical Romance) (3 page)

A matter of weeks! Her heart thumped in her breast. Her father need not die in a foreign prison after all. They would be reunited at last. Surely that was worth any risk, wasn’t it? She bit her lip, unable to ignore the ramifications of her decision. If she agreed she might be putting her life on the line; would be reliant on the help and cooperation of a complete stranger. She did not think that Ward and Forbes would have chosen anyone but the best for this task; they couldn’t afford to. All the same, this man’s first care was to see that those plans got back to Wellington. If it came to a choice between that and her safety it didn’t take a savant to work out which would come first. She would be expendable. The intelligence service needed those plans and its agents were prepared to go to considerable lengths to get them. That also included the ruthless exploitation of her emotions. Her father was of no real monument to them. Had it been otherwise they would have negotiated his release already. The knowledge caused the first faint stirrings of anger. It was an emotion she couldn’t afford. Forcing it down she met the General’s gaze with apparent composure.

‘May I have some time to reflect?’

‘Time is of the essence. The ball is eleven days hence. The journey will take nine. I need an answer today.’

Her godfather laid a gentle hand on her arm. ‘You don’t have to do this, my dear. Your father would never ask it of you. I know how much he means to you and I care for him, too, but as your guardian I urge you to think most carefully.’

‘I cannot leave him to die in prison, sir.’

‘Consider, Sabrina. You know nothing about this man they would have you accompany.’

‘I assure you, sir, that the gentleman is of good
family,’ Ward replied. ‘He is the younger son of the Earl of Ellingham and is currently carving out a distinguished career for himself as a member of Wellington’s intelligence staff.’ He paused. ‘His background might be considered among the best in England. Good enough, one would think, to be a fit companion for your goddaughter.’

Seeing Ward’s haughty expression, Albermarle reddened. ‘My goddaughter is also of good family, General. John Huntley has no reason to be ashamed of his connections.’

‘I never meant to imply any such thing, Colonel.’

Recognising the signs of impending wrath on her godfather’s face Sabrina interjected quickly. ‘I am sure you did not, sir.’

Albermarle threw her a swift glance and held his temper. ‘Connections are all very well,’ he went on, ‘but what is the man’s character?’

‘I have never heard anything to his detriment. On the contrary, he has shown himself to be capable and resourceful in the undertaking of his duties.’

‘I am quite sure of that or you would never have chosen him. What concerns me is his moral character. After all, my goddaughter will be alone in his company for weeks. Her reputation…’

‘Will be untarnished,’ said Ward. ‘The proprieties will be observed, sir. Miss Huntley will take her maid, as befits a lady of rank, and our agent will be accompanied by some of his men, in the guise of servants.’ He paused. ‘It goes without saying that arrangements for accommodation will be quite separate.’

‘My goddaughter will have more than just her maid for protection. If she goes at all I insist upon Ramon and Luis attending her as well.’

Forbes raised a quizzical eyebrow. ‘Ramon and Luis?’

‘Partisans, I believe,’ said Ward.

‘Two of my father’s most trusted companions, sir,’ Sabrina explained. ‘They have guided him on numerous expeditions and have accompanied me on every mission I’ve been on. They are most able men.’

Forbes and Ward exchanged another glance. Then the latter nodded.

‘Agreed.’

However, Albermarle wasn’t finished. ‘Apart from the dubious nature of this proposal, Aranjuez is deep in the heart of enemy territory,’ he said. ‘If anything were to go wrong there would be no possibility of outside help. The consequences mean death or imprisonment.’

‘That’s true,’ said the General. ‘It is a risk, albeit a calculated one.’

‘In my view the whole thing is utter madness, but the final decision is not mine.’

Ward turned to Sabrina. ‘Then may we know your mind, madam, or do you wish a little more time to consider?’

Sabrina knew that time would make no difference in this case. The choice was made as soon as he had talked of her father’s freedom.

‘I’ll do it.’

There came a muffled exclamation from Albermarle, but he said nothing.

Ward smiled. ‘Good. It’s a brave decision, Miss Huntley. Believe me, we are most grateful.’

‘Does your agent know about all this?’ she asked.

‘Yes, he was briefed earlier.’

‘What did you offer him?’

For a second he seemed taken aback, as much by
the dryness of her tone as by the directness of the question, but he recovered quickly. ‘Promotion to Lieutenant Colonel.’

‘I see.’ An ambitious man, she thought. That knowledge wasn’t particularly reassuring. ‘When do I meet him?’

‘At once,’ replied Ward. He glanced at Forbes. ‘Tell him to come in.’

Sabrina closed her eyes for a moment, willing herself to calm. She must do this thing. There was no other choice. Her father’s liberty was all that mattered. She heard the Major’s footsteps cross the floor and then the sound of the door opening. He spoke briefly to someone outside. Two sets of footsteps returned. She clasped her hands in her lap to keep them still and forced herself to look up. Then her heart leapt towards her throat and she found herself staring into the grey eyes of Major Falconbridge.

S
uddenly it was harder to breathe and her cheeks, so pink before, went pale. Impossible! It couldn’t be he! Of all the men in His Majesty’s army…Sabrina came out of her chair and darted a glance at Ward and then at Forbes but saw nothing in their expressions to contradict it. Dear God, what had she agreed to? The idea of walking the length of the street with this man was unappealing, never mind spending weeks in his company. The temptation to renege on her promise and walk away was almost overpowering. Then she thought of her father and took a deep breath.

If Major Falconbridge had noticed aught amiss it wasn’t evident. Having observed the necessary social courtesies he got straight to the point.

‘I believe that you are to accompany me on this mission, Miss Huntley.’

Somehow she found her voice. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘I take it that you understand exactly what that entails.’

‘I understand.’

‘All the same, I should be grateful if you would afford me an opportunity for private speech later.’

With an effort she kept her tone neutral. ‘As you will, Major.’

In fact, Falconbridge had seen the fleeting expression of dismay when she realised who he was. Under any other circumstances such a meeting would have been most entertaining, but just now he felt no inclination to laugh. For a moment he had expected her to refuse point-blank to enter into the bargain, but then she had seemed to regain her composure. Forbes had apprised him of her situation and he understood now just how much her father meant to her. After their first meeting Falconbridge knew he must be the last man in the world she would ever have chosen to go anywhere with, let alone Aranjuez. He also knew that his memory hadn’t done her justice. From the beginning he had considered her attractive. Seeing her now he realised she was much more than that—spirited, too. However, looks and spirit were only part of it; she had other attributes. Ward had assured him of her linguistic ability in French and Spanish and of her usefulness to them in the past. It still hadn’t stifled his doubts. Yet somehow those documents had to be obtained and brought back for Wellington. Promotion and the release of John Huntley, though highly desirable, were secondary considerations.

His thoughts were interrupted by General Ward. ‘You will complete your briefing today and leave for Aranjuez in the morning.’

Sabrina’s heart lurched. So little time! Then she reflected that it might be better so; if she had more space to consider she might well refuse to go through with it. This man unsettled her too much. Such a mission required clear-headedness and a certain amount of
detachment. The knowledge that she was failing in both areas only added to her mortification.

Ward drew the meeting to a close shortly afterwards. Since Falconbridge was to be detained for a while he asked for directions to Sabrina’s present accommodation.

‘I will call upon you there very soon,’ he said.

With that they said their temporary farewells and she and Albermarle left the room. For a while they walked in silence, but when they were away from the headquarters building he paused and drew her round to face him.

‘Are you quite sure you know what you’re doing, my dear? This mission truly is most dangerous.’

She nodded. ‘I know but my mind is made up.’

‘Very well. It’s your decision, of course, but I cannot pretend that I like it.’

* * *

The words stayed with her long after he had gone. Though her reply had sounded confident, she was far from feeling it. However, the die was cast. Unwilling to spend too long thinking about the possibly dire consequences of her actions, she turned her mind to the practicalities. She would need to speak to Jacinta and then the two of them would pack all the necessary items for the trip. Later she would talk to Ramon and Luis. It was all very well for others to commandeer their services for this mission, but it was not the usual low-key affair, nor were they soldiers being paid to risk their lives. They needed to know of the dangers and be given the chance to opt out if they wanted to.

Jacinta listened impassively while Sabrina explained where she would be going. She did not go into details about why, since it was classified information, but only
said that it concerned her father’s safety, an explanation that she knew the maid would accept without question.

‘Aranjuez?’ she said then. ‘I know of it, of course, but I have never been there. It will be interesting to see.’

‘It will also be dangerous, Jacinta. Are you sure you want to come?’

The girl lifted one dark eyebrow. ‘Do you think you can prevent it?’

Sabrina smiled ruefully. ‘I doubt it, but I wanted you to know what you’re agreeing to first.’

‘If it were not for your father I would be dead now. He saved me after French dragoons burned and looted my village, and gave me a place in his household. Never shall I forget what I owe to him.’ Jacinta’s dark eyes burned now with inner fire. Her face, too angular for beauty, was nevertheless arresting and it concealed a sharp brain. In her mid-twenties, she had been with the Huntleys for the last five years. Ordinarily she never spoke of the past and Sabrina did not pry, though she knew the broad outlines of the story. If Jacinta wanted her to know the details she would tell her.

‘I miss Father so much.’

‘I, also,’ Jacinta replied, ‘but he is a brave and resourceful man. God will surely help him to win through.’

‘I pray he may.’

‘Meanwhile, not everything can be left to God. We play our part too, no?’

‘As well as we can.’

Jacinta turned towards the clothes press. ‘Then perhaps we should begin by relieving the Almighty of the task of packing.’

They were thus engaged when a servant appeared to
say that Major Falconbridge had just arrived. Sabrina drew in a deep breath. This had to be faced and it would be as well to get it over with.

He was waiting in the small salon. Hearing her step he turned, watching her approach. For a moment or two they surveyed each other in silence. Then he made her a neat bow.

‘Miss Huntley. Thank you for receiving me. I am sure you must be busy.’

She kept her expression studiedly neutral. ‘It is of no consequence, sir.’

‘I shall not keep you long, but there are things that must be said.’ He gestured to the open French windows that gave out onto the garden. ‘Will you oblige me?’

As he stood aside to let her pass, she was keenly aware of the gaze burning into her back. It was one thing to be with this man in the company of others and quite another to meet him alone. It ought not to have bothered her; after all, the army had been a large part of her life. She was quite used to the company of men but none of them discomposed her like this one. But then none of them had his rugged good looks either, or that confoundedly assured manner. He had presence, no doubt about that. It was only enhanced by the scarlet regimentals; the jacket with its gold lacings might have been moulded to those broad shoulders. She had thought she was tall, until now. It gave him an annoying advantage since she was forced to look up all the time.

It was warm in the garden, the sunlight brilliant after the relative gloom indoors. They walked a little way down the path between the flower beds until they came to a wooden bench. There he paused.

‘Shall we sit awhile, Miss Huntley?’

She made no demur and watched as he joined her. His gaze met and held hers.

‘I’ll come straight to the point,’ he said. ‘I was not…am not…in favour of your coming on this mission. It is difficult and dangerous and certainly no place for a woman.’

‘And I am the last woman you would have chosen into the bargain.’

One dark brow lifted a little. ‘I did not say so.’

‘You didn’t have to,’ she replied. ‘But then you are the last man I would have chosen, so in that way there is balance.’

‘I am well aware that our first encounter was not calculated to make us friends, Miss Huntley, but personal feelings do not enter into this. My objections are based solely on the risks involved.’

Sabrina’s chin lifted. ‘It was my choice to come, Major. The risks were explained to me.’

‘Were they?’

‘Colonel Ward made it clear that capture would probably mean death.’

‘Death is the best you can hope for if you are captured,’ he replied. ‘Before that there is always interrogation, and the French are not noted for their gentleness in such matters.’

‘Are you afraid I would talk?’

‘Everyone talks by the third day, Miss Huntley.’

Suddenly the sunshine wasn’t quite as warm as it had been. ‘Are you trying to frighten me, sir?’

‘No, only to make you fully aware of what you are agreeing to.’ He paused. ‘The fact that you are a woman brings very particular perils.’

It was impossible to mistake his meaning and, under that cool scrutiny, she felt a hot blush rising from her
neck to the roots of her hair. Immediately she was furious with herself. He saw the deepening colour and thought it became her. It was a most agreeable foil for her eyes.

‘I consider the end to be worth the possible perils,’ she replied.

‘General Ward told me about your father. I’m truly sorry.’

The tone sounded sincere and it took her by surprise. ‘If there is any chance that he might be released I have to take it. Surely you see that?’

‘I understand your motives and applaud your courage, but…’

‘You cannot dissuade me. I am set on going.’

‘Very well, but know this: I shall expect you to obey my orders to the letter. Both our lives may depend upon it.’

‘I understand.’

‘I hope you do because I shall not brook disobedience.’

The threat was plain and she had not the least doubt that he meant it. Did he think her so unreliable?

‘I assure you, Major, that I will do nothing to jeopardise the success of this mission.’

‘Good.’ He paused. ‘Then we may be able to deal tolerably well together after all.’

It was, she knew, an oblique reference to their first encounter. Unwilling to go there she sought safer ground.

‘There must be many things I need to know, about the Condesa de Ordoñez, I mean.’

‘I shall brief you on those while we travel. There will be time enough for you to assimilate the details.’

‘As you wish.’

He stood. ‘Until tomorrow morning then, Miss Huntley.’

Sabrina rose, too, and held out her hand. It was in part a conciliatory gesture. Whatever had happened before, it must not be allowed to get in the way now.

‘Until tomorrow, sir.’

She had wondered if he would shake hands with her or consider a curt bow sufficient. Strong fingers closed around hers and, unexpectedly, lifted her hand to his lips. The touch sent a tremor through her entire being. For a moment the grey eyes held hers, but she could not read the expression there. Then she was free and he turned to go. She watched until he was lost to view.

* * *

Early next morning, as the trunks were loaded onto the carriage and the horses put to, Sabrina came down to find her godfather and her large travelling companion already waiting. With a small start of surprise she saw that Major Falconbridge had changed his uniform for civilian dress. He was clad now in fawn breeches, Hessian boots and a coat of dark blue superfine that might have been moulded to his shoulders. Snowy linen showed at wrist and throat and a single fob hung from a cream-coloured waistcoat, completing an outfit that was at once simple and elegant. It also enhanced every line of that powerful frame and rendered it more imposing.

Unwilling to let her mind travel too far down that road, she turned her attention to their escort. Ramon and Luis were reassuring presences. As Jacinta had told her, when asked they had made it quite clear that they took their presence on this journey as read. Nor would they be dissuaded.

‘Your concern does you credit,
Doña
Sabrina,’ replied Ramon when she had told them her plans, ‘but I believe
I will make up my own mind.’ The words were quietly spoken but carried an undertone that she recognised all too well.

She made a last-ditch attempt. ‘Aranjuez is far behind French lines.’

‘Madre de Dios!
Can it be true?’ Luis threw up his hands in mock horror. ‘In that case, Ramon and I shall remain safely here and tell your father later that we let you go alone into the lion’s den. I am sure he will understand.’

‘My father would not ask this of you.’

‘Your father is not here,’ said Ramon, ‘which means that we two are
in loco parentis
until his return.’

‘Loco is right,’ replied Luis, ‘but even crazy parents are better than none, eh?’

Unable to think of an immediate answer to this, Sabrina had given in. With Ramon and Luis now were two of Falconbridge’s men, Corporal Blakelock and Private Willis. She recognised them from the encounter in Casa Verde. Both men seemed to be in their mid-twenties but there the resemblance ended: Blakelock’s thin, rangy frame and shock of fair hair were a complete contrast to Willis’s shorter, more compact build and straggling brown locks. They touched their caps and greeted her respectfully, neither one giving any indication that they recalled what had taken place that day in the wheelwright’s yard. She wondered whether it was natural tact on their part or whether Falconbridge had spoken to them. They were to travel in the chaise with Jacinta. Ramon and Luis would take it in turns to drive the coach. The entourage certainly looked like that of a wealthy man and, in this instance, appearances were everything.