Miss Whittier Makes a List (33 page)

“
I wish thee would not.
”
she murmured.
“
It was—
”
she paused and smiled, thinking of Captain Spark—
“
it was truly an adven
tu
re.
”
It was something to remember when I am married safely to some dullard and living the life I was born for, she thought, but you stodgy ambassadors would not understand.

The men looked at each other.
“
Well, it is over now, my dear,
”
the consul said.
“
I am sending you and Mr. Winslow to
Holland
with the ambassador, where you will be transferred to a ship for
Boston
. You
’
ll sail in two days.
”

She flinched as though someone had slapped her.
“
So soon?
”
she managed.

The consul stared at her.
“
My dear Miss Whittier, did you notice the fortifications that the Viscount of We
ll
ington is ringing around this city?
’

She shook her bead.

“
He expects this city to be attacked by Napoleon
’
s marshals this fa
ll
. Even now British t
roo
ps are fal
li
ng back into
Lisbon
and bringing hordes of wounded. God
knows
where they are putting them all. I am sending my own wife and family to safety with the ambassador. Of course you will go. This is not a matter for argument
.
”

Hannah rose and the men stood up.
“
Then I would like to say goodbye to Captain Spark before we sail,
”
she said. She stared down their
amazed
expressions.
“
I
owe him that for
his kindness to me.
”

“
Out of the question!
”
the consul exc
laim
ed slamming his fist on the desk for emphasis.
“
We should be at war with those
rasc
als and you want to pay a hospital visit? Miss
W
hittier, you are out of order. Go back to your
room
, please.
”

She turned on her hee
l and hurried from the bookroom,
her face blank of all expression. She stood in the
empty
hallway, shaking with rage and helplessness until she felt more calm, then moved slowly toward the stairs. She put her hand on the railing and stopped.
“
No,
”
she said distinctly and looked bac
k at the closed door to the book
r
o
om.
“
I will not, and thee cannot make me.
”

The hall was still empty. She walked swiftly toward the front door, holding her breath as she passed the parlor where the consul
’
s wife sat at the piano with her daughter. She opened the front door carefully and slipped out into the
Lisbon
afternoon.

It was downhill all the way to the harbor, past large residences shielded behind walls with iron gates, and then smaller houses, and finally shops. She moved purposefully, trying to walk along with the crowds of shoppers, her mind in turmoil over how to find one wounded man in a foreign city swollen with the injured. She had no money to tempt anyone to help her
,
and nothing beyond a fierce desire to
see
that he was alive and we
ll
.

The docks frightened her, filled as they were with milling soldiers and sailors wearing uniforms of many countries. The men eyed her as she hurried past,
calling
out remarks that made her ears bu
rn
. She
hurried
on, wondering where to look, who to speak to, praying that no one would touch her or drag her into one of the numerous dark alleys that bisected the waterfront like veins.

“
Miss Whittier! I say, Miss Whittier!font>
”

She whirled around to
see
Mr. Futtrell, clad in a new uniform, shouldering his way through the crowds toward her. She gave a sob of relief and threw herself into his
ar
ms, hugging him and crying at the same time.
“
Mr. Fu
ttr
ell, you have to help me find the captain!
”

He held her off from him and peered down into her tear-stained face.
“
I thought I left you safe in the hands of the
American consul,
”
he said, pulling out his handkerchief.
“
My
God,
madam, we can
’
t have you wandering about the
Lisbon
docks.
”

She nodded and thanked him for his handkerchief. She blew her nose and let him lead her to a bench in front of a chandler
’
s shop.
“
You did leave me with the consul, but he was beastly and kept asking me the same questions over and over again, and when I said I wanted to se
e how Daniel did,
he said it was out of the question and I ran away,
”
she finished in a rush of words.

“
Miss Whittier, I do believe you have changed a great
deal
since you
came
on
board
the
Dissuade
,
”
he said, a grin on his face.

“
What has that to do with anything?
”
she demanded, and clutched his
ar
m.
“
I have to know how Daniel is. They are going to put me on a ship for
Holland
and then home, and I have to know. I still have the dispatch, and he needs it
.
”

He stood up then and offered her his
ar
m.
“
Miss Whittier—Hannah—let us find the captain.
”

She burst into tears again and had to blow her nose more heartily before the lieutenant would allow her to accompany him.
“
After all, I have appearances to keep up,
”
he told her, his voice stem, but his eyes merry.
“
You certainly are a tenacious bit of shark chum.
”
He paused a moment
“
I suppose if the American consul finds us, I will be clap
ped in irons and charged with att
empted kidnap.
”

“
I suppose it
’
s possible,
”
she said, twinkling her eyes back at him.
“
I suggest we h
urry
.
”

His grip tight on her arm, Lieutenant Futtrell led her through the crowd of sailors and soldiers and onto a quieter side street leading up from the harbor.
“
Lord Wellington is in the city,
”
he explained as they hurried along.
“
He is supervising the construction of breastworks around
Lisbon
to keep Boney from pushing us into the sea. We will see some hot work here soon.
”

Hannah hur
ried to keep up with his long str
ide, and he shortened his steps obligingly.
“
What will happen to you?
”
she asked.

“
I
’
m to be shipped out on the next tide back to
Portsmouth
,
”
he said, and stopped before a church.
“
He is here,
Hannah,
at A
l
l Saints.
”
He tipped his
tall
hat to her.
“
I would come in, but he and I have already spoken, and I have to catch the tide. I
’
ll
probably s
e
e you in
London
quite soon.
”

“
Not if I am bound for
Holland
,
”
she said
,
retaining her clutch on his
ar
m.

He l
eaned down and kissed her cheek,
gently tugging off her fingers.
“
What little I know of you tells me that you will find a way to get to
London
, Ha
nna
h. Do you know you still smell of tunny?
”

She laughed and dabbed at her eyes, hugged him one last time, and slipped into the cool gloom of the church. When her eyes became accustomed, she looked around in shock and horror. The nave was filled with wounded men from the entrance to the chancel, lying practically shoulder to shoulder on pallets and tended by nuns, who glided up and down the rows.
“
War, I hate thee,
”
she said softly, clasping her hands tightly together.