Read Lucy Lane and the Lieutenant Online
Authors: Helen Dickson
‘What is this place?’ she asked. It looked completely abandoned in appearance.
‘A convent—a dwelling for cloistered nuns. Because of its secluded situation, it’s escaped the fate of other convents that have been ransacked by the French. Many a pious soul in spiritual need have found their way to this place.’
He rode towards a stout wooden door and dismounted. Knocking a few times, he waited. The sound echoed behind it. At length a grille on the door slid open. Nathan exchanged a few words with someone behind it and then stood back as the door was opened. A nun peered out, dressed in black, her sombre costume relieved by a white wimple. Her holy attire had seen better days, but she contrived to look neat. She also reminded Lucy of one of those sturdy country women who fear neither man nor beast.
Nathan spoke quietly to her and only then did she deign to look at Lucy.
‘You can dismount, Lucy,’ Nathan said. ‘We will spend the night here.’
Lucy did as he asked. She had an odd suspicion that they were expected. A man suddenly appeared to take the horses. After helping Nathan to remove the saddlebags he led them away. Lucy followed Nathan inside with a vague uneasiness. She could not quite put her finger on it, but she detected a subtle change in him. Doing her best to shrug off her inexplicable misgivings, she looked around.
The room into which she stepped was dark with no light coming from the windows. Candles flickered in wall sconces, casting weird shapes around the white walls. She was aware of dark beams above her and a black floor beneath. And it was cold.
Nathan spoke to the nun in quiet tones. She said something in reply and looked at Lucy.
‘You are to go with her, Lucy,’ Nathan said quietly. ‘She will show you where you are to sleep and some food will be sent up to you.’
Lucy stared at him in panic. ‘Where will you sleep?’
‘There is a room above the stable. I will be comfortable there. Besides, do not forget that this is a convent. It is not accepted practice for a man to dwell within.’
‘But—are you saying I won’t see you until morning?’ Lucy asked, unable to hide the panic she felt at being left alone in this strange place.
‘That’s right.’ He grinned in an attempt to dispel her anxiety. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll survive. Take advantage of this time to get some sleep.’
Lucy was bewildered. Much as she wanted to know what they were doing at the convent, she did not ask. She felt detached and a strange passivity, as if everything was beyond her control.
Showing her impatience, the nun held up her arm, indicating Lucy should follow her in the direction she pointed. She followed her along several passageways and passed through several rooms, all small and dark and heavily beamed and with tiny windows. The atmosphere was sombre, the air rank and full of the pungent smell of cooked vegetables. Every now and then Lucy heard whispered sounds of feet treading lightly and fleetingly through rooms, and voices lowered as if in prayer, but she saw no other person. There was nothing welcoming about this place of darkness and shadows, and she was unable to understand why a woman would willingly shut herself away and devote her entire life to serving God in such a place as this.
Eventually they came to a narrow flight of stone steps rising to the upper floor. The room she was allocated was small and square, with just one window overlooking the track that had brought them to the convent. There was a narrow pallet to sleep on and a sturdy chest, with a jug of water and a bowl, a candle and a small crucifix on its rough surface. As she was left alone, that strange feeling of detachment deserted her. Now, as her mind ticked off the minutes, her fear returned and mounted until every muscle and nerve in her was filled with dread. A nun brought her some food. It was basic, a bowl of stew and bread, which she ate slowly, watching the sun go down over the trees from her window, having opened the shutters.
Putting down the bowl, she looked out, hoping to see Nathan. She hated being parted from him, even though the distance was slight. Her gaze wandered to a copse where a flock of birds had risen and took flight. Wondering what had disturbed them, she fastened her eyes on the dark shadows between the trees. One of the shadows moved and she was sure she heard the soft whicker of a horse.
Sure enough, a moment later two men strolled at a leisurely pace into the open—one of them, muffled in a black coat, was leading a horse. His companion who was the taller of the two was Nathan. They talked for several minutes before the man mounted his horse. Lucy watched them carefully as they continued to converse, then the man began to ride away.
A tremor of fear rippled through her. What sort of dark business was Nathan up to that he had to be so secretive? He’d said nothing about arranging to meet someone. Panic threatened to rise with her sudden sense of having no control over anything, of being entirely under his control, but she quelled those feelings, determined to ask him what it was all about.
Without further thought she left the room and made her way down to the door through which she had been admitted. Letting herself out, she ran as fast as her legs could carry her to where she had seen Nathan speaking to the stranger, her heart beating wildly in her breast.
* * *
Nathan turned at the sound of her footsteps, his gaze immediately falling on her flushed cheeks and dishevelled appearance. He thought she looked beautiful—she was clearly so angry about something that her eyes glittered, and he wanted nothing more than to crush her into his arms. Something he knew he must not do. He watched her in silence until she reached him. As the breeze brushed her face and caught her hair, she could hear the high-pitched screech of an owl reverberating across the thicket. The man she had seen Nathan speaking to was disappearing down the lane.
Chapter Seven
‘W
ho was that man?’ Lucy burst out breathlessly, halting beside Nathan.
He arched a dark brow. ‘You don’t need to know that.’ Nathan saw her eyes narrow.
‘There
is
something, then, something I haven’t been told.’
She tossed her head. Nathan loved it when she did that. He found it endearing and spirited. ‘I didn’t tell you because I wanted to protect you.’
‘Protect me? But I don’t need protecting.’
‘Very well. I had no wish to worry you.’
Her lips tightened to a pale line and he saw her hands clench. He had seen her angry in the past, and a veritable hellcat she could be, but never had her anger been so controlled as now. Controlled, he thought ruefully. She was—they both were—older now.
‘I need to know everything, Nathan, if I am to help you and Katherine. Do you understand? I cannot be caught asleep if there are plans afoot of which I know absolutely nothing. What have I not been told? Was that man a contact? You arranged to meet him here, didn’t you? Tell me. I’ve come too far with you to have the door slammed in my face.’
Nathan stared at her for a long moment. It was plain to see that she was not going to back down. At last, he gave her a grim and barely perceptible nod. ‘Very well. I will tell you. The man you saw is one of the partisans.’
‘He had a fierce look about him.’
‘With good reason. He hates the French with all the passion of his soul. They killed his entire family and he repays them by killing as many as he can find.’
‘You arranged to meet him here, didn’t you, Nathan?’
He nodded, folding his arms across his broad chest. ‘The convent, as you will have observed, is well hidden. Unless you know of its existence it’s an ideal rendezvous—a perfect retreat. The sisters are brave.’
‘I thought nuns were supposed to be impartial.’
‘They are. Like everyone else they want the French out of Portugal.’
‘Why has no one attacked Gameau’s hideout before?’
‘Because the place where they hide is too far from military lines. The partisans move through the mountains a good deal easier than the army. The difficulties would be too great. The partisans and a troop of British soldiers are planning to attack Gameau’s hideout. I want Katherine out of there before it all falls apart. If the deserters get wind of an attack, in all likelihood they’ll kill the hostages and escape into the hills. Wellington is not going to ignore the taking of captives by deserters, in particular women and children. An example has to be set. The partisans know the mountains. If they work together, they can take them.’
‘So we have to get there before they do.’
‘In exchange for information I’ll pass on, they’ve agreed to wait, but not indefinitely. Winter is almost here. It will be more difficult to launch an attack in the snow. What I tell them—such as where the hostages are kept, an approximate number of the deserters and anything I can glean about their weaponry—will be important to them. No one’s ever been inside the rebels’ hideout and come out alive.’
‘And you are certain that we will?’
‘I told you, Claude Gameau owes me.’
‘It’s a dangerous game you play, Nathan.’
‘I’m confident.’ His expressions softened. ‘I would not have made you a part of it had I thought otherwise.’
Looking up at him, Lucy met his look with a little frown, her body taut, every muscle stretched against the invisible pull between them. ‘I’m glad you did. It doesn’t matter, but I just wish you’d told me about your assignation with that man. I do understand that you need information. Just don’t keep me in the dark, Nathan.’
He uncrossed his arms and stared down at her. ‘I will tell you, the next time,’ he said, his husky voice soft. ‘It is not my intention to deceive you, only to keep you safe.’
‘I want nothing from you, Nathan—I only want to thank you for making me a part of this. It goes a little way to righting the wrongs of the past.’ She pushed a strand of her hair as she watched the throbbing of his tanned throat, trying to hide the pain in her heart, to forget what lay between them.
He glanced at her, his broad hands placed on his hips, a glint of approval kindling in his eyes. ‘That applies to both of us.’ He turned his head and looked along the path back to the convent. ‘We should go back. We must make an early start in the morning.’
She stood there, lost. Alarm rose within her, as if something infinitely special, something elusive, was escaping her. She felt the scalding tears spring under her eyelids so that he and everything around him grew indistinct. Resolutely she fought them back. In a terrible sharp moment of perception, she knew a sense of loss so strong it seemed to squeeze the breath from her body. Whether it was because she was at a low point in the journey, Nathan’s tendency to keep things from her, or the dark, sombre atmosphere of the convent, never had she needed him so much. It was a feeling almost too full, too powerful to bear, as passion and a deeper longing stabbed through her like a piercing pain. Why had she misread him all those years ago? She had missed so much not being with him then, so much of his life.
Nathan had taken a few steps away from her when he turned and eyed her closely, his brow slightly puckered. He walked back to her. ‘Is something wrong, Lucy?’
Some of the colour had faded from her face. She saw his eyes brighten as if his thoughts were lifted in some eager anticipation. The steady eyes, the resolute, beautiful mouth had not for a long time been so close. She remained still, drawn into his eyes. Wanting him so very badly, she took a step closer, across the chasm of the years they had been apart. ‘Help me,’ she whispered fiercely. She laid a hand on his arm, the thick skin fabric of his jacket sleeve rough under her fingers.
His wariness, his distant, cool manner were now torn away. His eyes held hers in one long, compelling look, holding all her frustrated longings, her unfulfilled desires, everything that was between them. ‘I will always help you!’ he murmured, suddenly closing his arms about her.
Then his firm lips were on hers. He was wide and solid, with a strength that wrapped her with a satisfying reassurance. All she was aware of was heat, a blaze of power, the pressure of hard muscles in a strong body, a complete blending of passion and tenderness. There was a curious low roaring in her ears and through the sound she dimly heard the swift thudding of her heart.
Nathan deepened the kiss, feeling her change within his arms and there was madness and magic in the slender body he held and a hot glow in the eyes that looked up at him. For a timeless moment, they stood fused together as his lips took hers as if he could never have enough. Suddenly he was back in London. It was four years ago and the ease and indolence of summer, the careless desires of a young man were present. The long and bitter years since then fell away and the woman in his arms, her body melting into his, with her lips returning his kiss, was the only woman he had ever loved.
And then it was over. Nathan smiled crookedly, and tipped her face. He drew his fingers over the curve of her cheek and said, ‘You really are the most unprincipled young woman, Lucy Lane.’
‘I suppose I am, as far as you are concerned. You made me like that—years ago.’
He was watching her intently. Then he released her and took hold of her hand. ‘Come, I’ll walk back with you.’
‘Do I have to go back? I rather like it when we spend the night under the stars.’
He laughed softy. ‘This is a convent, Lucy, run by chaste nuns. We must do nothing to abuse their hospitality.’
‘If you say so,’ she replied, smiling up at him, happy to have him holding her hand. ‘But I can’t help the way I feel.’
Nathan was silent, a deep crease between his brows as he considered her words. ‘Now is not the time to think of that, Lucy. Listen to me. Believe me when I say that if I thought we had a chance of happiness together, I’d take it. I’ve lived all my life taking chances, but not this one. Not now.’
She was stricken. ‘You really are saying that I mean absolutely nothing to you?’
He stiffened, then relaxed. ‘There you are wrong. You do mean something to me—and have done for a very long time. That is my misfortune. I have had to live with that knowledge—to think of you as unattainable. I don’t want to hurt you.’
She was about to flare up in a temper of despair when she saw the expression on his face was unusually compassionate.
Without relinquishing his hold of her hand, he stopped and looked down into her shining eyes. ‘Of all the women I have known, Lucy, none has possessed the fire of heart and mind of you. You are beautiful. A temptress. You could kill the man who loves you—drive a knife right through his heart and never know it.’
The sound of a single bell from the direction of the convent resounded in the air. They both looked towards the sound.
‘The sounding of the bell calls the nuns to prayers—vespers or compline,’ Nathan said absently. ‘I don’t know the order of their daily devotions, but we should go back.’
Lucy looked at him and wondered where the hot flood of feeling had gone. Suddenly she was aware of everything around her and she shivered, as if coming back from a long journey.
‘Yes, you’re right. We should go back.’
Nathan walked with her to the door, and only then did he let go of her hand, but not before he had raised it to his lips and placed a tender kiss on her fingers.
* * *
At first light, after eating a hasty breakfast and thanking the nuns for their hospitality, they left the convent and continued with their journey. Lucy watched the muted hues of the scenery blur together in a peaceful collage. Orange and purple streaked the sky and she looked over to the east where the sun was rising behind the high Sierras, their jagged outlines silhouetted sharply against the sky. The villages were becoming scarcer now. Soon they would navigate the sinuous mountain passes.
The strange, past days had left Lucy feeling as if she were moving through a landscape composed of nothing but vague shapes with no particular details—like a dream.
‘What are you thinking?’ Nathan asked beside her.
She glanced at him, smiling wearily, having put what had happened between them the night before behind her. ‘I was thinking how unreal all this seems. I keep imagining that I’ll wake up at home and discover this was all a dream.’
Nathan cocked her a devilish smile. ‘You wouldn’t miss me if you woke up and found I wasn’t real?’
Lucy had to smile. ‘Yes, actually, I would miss you—just a little.’
He laughed. ‘Stop daydreaming, Lucy. We have work to do.’
‘And hills to climb, if those mountains are an indication of what to expect. I imagine them to be full of bandits and wild animals, all waiting to vent their savagery on two unsuspecting travellers.’
‘Not unsuspecting. I am fully aware of the dangers those hills pose. It is fortunate that the British and French never needed them. The savagery of the terrain made them impassable to the artillery and the infantry would struggle, which made them of no value, but to the bands of deserters they are the perfect refuge.’
* * *
They spent three more days and nights on the road before reaching the Sierras, which were reported to stretch as far as the Pyrenees Mountains. The hills were wooded with fir and impressed a picture on Lucy’s mind which would not easily be erased.
The mountain paths were often perilous. Wolves prowled and rock slides were not uncommon, and the brigands were lawless, descending from the heights to rob villages before melting away like snow. The weather turned colder, and one day and night they had to endure a troublesome drizzling rain, more penetrating than a heavy shower. Lucy was glad of the thick greatcoat Nathan had provided, which protected her from the cold.
He appeared to know the way through the mountains, for despite the absence of paths and the fact that one mountain looked exactly like the next to Lucy, he rode ahead of her unhesitatingly, although he glanced about often to assure himself of both her safety and comfort. At one point they climbed so high that a tremendous precipice was frightful even to look down. Vertigo washed over Lucy as she peered over the edge. Here they appeared to be so elevated above the world below that they were, in a manner, lost to it. Here and there some bold mountains would penetrate the mass of clouds at their feet and raise their aspiring heads above them. At night even the stars and the moon seemed brighter in the mountains. The morning dew and mists of the valleys took a long time to disperse, rolling in volumes, like the sea, below them.
The journey was becoming taxing for Lucy. Not only was her dejection physical in origin, every day she began to feel more discouraged. Nathan was not openly disagreeable towards her, but he kept within the limits of punctilious courtesy which dismayed her far more than any show of temper would have done. There were times when she would have liked to talk of something else beside their assignment and Katherine’s captivity. But she was beginning to realise that his thoughts roamed past her and focused on his mission, on Katherine, almost to the utter exclusion of the unhappy woman beside him.
The silence which surrounded them was ominous. His senses having been trained to high alert, Nathan became tense, watchful, his eyes constantly searching the surrounding hills for menace, pausing now and then to listen for suspicious sounds.
* * *
With eight days of continuous riding behind them, with not a town or a village in sight, they camped in a low valley close to a small lake. Well sheltered by a thick stand of trees, they were partially hidden by a shallow overhang jutting from a bluff. The journey had held no terrors for Lucy. Until now. Something was different today. There was an edge to the darkness that made her uneasy. She had the feeling something or someone was watching them. Something cold and implacable that was no friend to either of them. She sensed Nathan felt it, too.
She tried to shake off the feeling, for she was so tired when she slipped off her horse that she could barely put one foot in front of the other. She glanced at Nathan, wishing she had half his stamina. Nothing seemed to affect this incredibly strong man. Tormented as she was by weariness and cramps, nothing in the world would have made her admit it.