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Authors: Edward Marston

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Emily
Greene burst out laughing and clapped her hands in gratitude.

'We
really are leaving tomorrow?' she said.

'I
had it from the Duke himself.'

'That's
wonderful news!'

'There'll
be some packing to do,' said Abigail.

'Everything
is already packed. I've been hoping for this moment.'

'Has
it been such a trial for you, Emily?'

'Yes,'
said the other, 'but I've tried not to show it. I feel like a fish out of
water, Miss Abigail. It's been awful.' She gave a hollow laugh. 'I've learnt
one thing - I could never marry a soldier.'

'You
prefer to save yourself for a sailor,' taunted Abigail.

'That
would be even worse!'

They
were still laughing when a man's voice interrupted them.

'Miss
Piper?' he called from outside the tent. 'Is that you?' 'Who is it?' she asked.

'I
have a message from Captain Rawson for you.'

'Then
let's hear it.'

Abigail
ducked out of the tent to be met by Charles Catto with an innocuous smile.
Noting the bandage around his head, she felt immediate sympathy.

'Were
you wounded in the battle?'

'Yes,
Miss Piper,' he replied, 'but I came off lightly. My name is Private Curtis and
I have the supreme honour to serve in His Grace, Duke of Marlborough's
regiment, the 24
th
Foot.'

'And
you've brought a message from Captain Rawson?'

'He
sends his compliments and asks if you would be kind enough to join him for a
while.'

'I'd
be glad to,' she said, a hand going to her hair as the breeze teased at it.
'Excuse me for a few moments.'

'Take
as much time as you wish, Miss Piper.'

Abigail
went back into the tent and reached for a mirror. Having heard the invitation,
Emily wanted her to look at her best for the visit. She brushed Abigail's hair
then burrowed in a satchel to find a bottle of her mistress's favourite
perfume. Emily made several small adjustments to Abigail's dress before she was
satisfied. It was minutes before preparations were complete. When she stepped
out of the tent, Abigail found her escort waiting patiently.

'I'm
sorry to be so long,' she said.

'There's
no hurry, Miss Piper.'

'What
exactly did Captain Rawson say?'

'That
he was anxious to speak with you.' Catto extended an arm to indicate the way.
'Come with me, if you will.'

'Thank
you.'

They
walked on in silence. Abigail was so pleased at the invitation that she placed
complete trust in the man who had brought it to her. It was a long walk but she
was untroubled by that. It gave her time to rehearse what she was going to say
to Daniel.

Eventually,
they reached the tent where Catto had spent the night. He pulled back the flap
and gestured for her to enter. Expecting to see Daniel Rawson, Emily went in
with a broad smile of her face. It soon vanished. The only things there were
piles of assorted supplies. Before she could say a word, she felt hand covering
her mouth to prevent her screaming. Charles Catto put the barrel of a pistol
against her temple. His voice was low and caressing.

'I'm
so glad to be alone with you at last, Miss Piper,' he said, inhaling her
perfume. 'Captain Rawson is delayed at the moment but I'm confident that he'll
be joining us in due course.'

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

Abigail
Piper was petrified. The pistol was only resting gently against her temple but
it seemed to be burrowing into her skull. Her whole head felt as if it were on
fire. Charles Catto removed his hand from her mouth but, even without the
threat of death, she would have been unable to speak. Her mouth was dry, her
heart racing and her brain numb. She had been taken in completely by the man's
appearance and polite manner. The promise of a meeting with Daniel Rawson had
been dangled in front of her and she had never questioned it for a second. She
squirmed as she recalled how gullible she had been. In entering the tent so
willingly with a stranger, she had stepped into a nightmare.

'Do
exactly as I say,' he told her, 'or I'll have no compunction about pulling the
trigger. Do you understand?'

'Yes,'
she croaked.

'Good.'

Keeping
the pistol levelled at her, he stepped back to appraise Abigail properly. He
flashed a smile of approval that sent shivers right through her. Catto gestured
at a large wooden box and she moved across to sit on it, perching uneasily on
the very edge. She eventually found the courage to ask a question.

'Who
are you?'

'Someone
who controls your destiny,' he said meaningfully.

'What
do you have against me? Eve done you no harm.'

'You're
about to do me a great deal of good, Miss Piper.'

'Must
you point that gun at me?' she said nervously.

'Not
if we come to an amicable agreement,' he replied. 'If you swear to make no
attempt to escape, or even to cry out, then I'll stop waving this pistol at
you. Should you do either of those things,' he added coldly, 'you'll be dead
within a second.' He lowered the weapon and rested it against his thigh.
Abigail relaxed slightly but remained fearful. 'There now - does that feel
better?'

'Yes.'

'Do
I have your word that you'll keep your side of the bargain?'

'Yes,
you do.'

'Thank
you.' He sat down on a box between her and the tent flap, blocking any sudden
dash she might make. 'Then we can we make ourselves comfortable for a while and
become more closely acquainted.'

'What
are you going to do with me?'

'In
the first instance, I shall take a stroll with you.'

'A
stroll?' she echoed in surprise.

'Yes,
Miss Piper. 'When a soldier and a young lady are seen walking together in camp,
the natural assumption is that they are husband and wife or, at the very least,
betrothed to each other. In short, nobody will challenge us. It all depends on
your doing exactly what you are told, of course,' he went on, holding up the
pistol. 'Open your mouth to call for help and it's the last thing you'll ever
do.'

Abigail
was bewildered. 'Why do you wish to walk with me?'

'Any
red-blooded man would wish to do that. You are positively delightful. As it
happens, though, I have a very special reason for desiring your company. And I
know that you enjoy an evening stroll,' he said with a smirk. 'It was not so
long ago that I saw you and Captain Rawson sauntering along beside a stream.'

Abigail
quailed. His comment hit her with the force of a blow and she was stunned.
Words tried to form themselves on her lips but no sound came out. Catto read
her thoughts.

'That's
correct,' he admitted. 'I was hiding in the bushes on the other side of that
stream. I watched you both for some time. But I did not fire the shot at
Captain Rawson,' he emphasised. 'Had I done so, he would no longer be alive.
I'm renowned for my accuracy with a flintlock pistol. Please bear that in
mind.'

'Who
did shoot at Daniel - at Captain Rawson?' she asked.

'It
was a foolish mistake.'

'He
might have been killed.'

'There
was also the danger that
you
might have been hit, Miss Piper,
and that would have been a dreadful loss. The person who did fire that shot has
been sternly admonished, believe me.'

'Why
did he shoot?'

'He
acted on impulse.'

'But
why aim the gun at Captain Rawson?'

'That's
a private matter,' he said blandly, 'and I don't think, in any case, that you'd
care to know the details. It might damage your high opinion of the captain.'

'I
doubt that,' she said, showing a little spirit at last. 'Captain Rawson is an
officer, a gentleman and a hero. You'll answer to him for this outrageous
behaviour.'

Catto
was amused. 'Indeed?'

'I
demand that you release me at once.'

'You're
not exactly in a position to make any demands,' he said, holding up the pistol.
'Instead of issuing orders, your job is simply to obey them.'

'Who
are
you?' she cried.

'Oh,
I'm not a very interesting topic for conversation, Miss Piper. You, on the
other hand, certainly are. Since we have some time on our hands before we
leave, perhaps you'd tell me a little about yourself. Evidently you come from a
good family,' he went on, eyes roving all over her, 'and I can hear the
breeding in your voice. Tell me who you are and how you came to befriend
Captain Daniel Rawson.' When she refused to answer, his tone was menacing. 'I
won't ask you again.'

Though
the Confederate army had stayed in their camp, they were not allowed a complete
rest. Soldiers in the British regiments were drilled on open ground. When he
had fought alongside Marshal Turenne in the French army, the Duke of
Marlborough had been struck by the superior discipline of the troops. It was
not only by virtue of greater numbers, better equipment and more powerful
artillery that they held sway over all other European armies. French soldiers
had been trained and drilled to a degree that gave them a considerable
advantage over their enemies and helped them to achieve a long series of
successive victories. Marlborough had taken note. Among the improvements he had
made to the British army was his insistence on thorough preparation.

It
depended to some extent on the lungs of his drill sergeants and, as far as
Henry Welbeck was concerned, his commander had no cause for complaint.
Welbeck's voice rang out like a roll of thunder. Never daring to put a foot out
of line, his troops kept to the drum-calls and went briskly through their
routines. Daniel felt a pang of regret as he observed how many were now missing
from the ranks. When they were dismissed, the soldiers drifted past him and he
had a friendly word with several of them. Welbeck eventually came over to him.

'You
certainly put them through their paces,' said Daniel. 'That was a most
impressive display, Henry.'

'You
have to drive them hard or they lose discipline in battle. We have to remember
that most of these men didn't
want
to join the army, Dan. They did
so under compulsion or because they had some stupid idea of being heroes. Ha!'
he exclaimed. 'A lot of these so-called heroes come from the gutter or from
prison. We have the dregs of London inside those red uniforms.'

'Not
any more,' argued Daniel. 'You've turned them into good soldiers and
responsible human beings. You converted them, Henry.'

'You
make me sound like a bloody chaplain.'

'Have
you never considered taking holy orders?'

'I'd
sooner eat horse shit!'

'I
could just see you in a pulpit.'

'Then
I'd probably be setting fire to it,' said Welbeck. 'You know my feelings about
religion. It's a trick played on the innocent fools.'

'I
don't regard myself as either innocent or foolish.'

'And
I don't you regard you as a true Christian. Oh, I know you read your Bible and
attend church parades but, then, the Devil can cite Scripture for his
purposes.'

Daniel
grinned. 'Are you calling me a devil?'

'Well,
you're certainly no angel.'

'None
of us is, Henry - we have blood on our hands.'

'That's
another thing,' said Welbeck. 'One of the Ten Commandments forbids you to kill.
How many times have you broken that particular commandment, Dan?'

'I'm
not getting into a theological argument with you,' said Daniel amiably. 'I just
wanted to give you advance warning. When we've got our breath back, it seems as
if we're going to cross the Danube and lay siege to Rain.'

'Why?'

'It's
directly in our line of march.'

'That
means I'll lose more of my men to the gravediggers.'

'Rain
is not a big town, by all accounts. It shouldn't hold us up for long or cost us
many lives. The other piece of news that might interest you is that Abigail
Piper is leaving us tomorrow.'

'That
calls for a celebration!' said Welbeck.

'You
don't even know the young lady.'

'I
know two things about her, Dan, and they both worry me. First, she's a woman.
Second, she almost got you killed. Put it this way,' he went on as Daniel tried
to protest, 'would you have gone walking alone outside the perimeter of the
camp?'

'No,
Henry.'

'Then
she led you into danger.'

'Not
deliberately,' said Daniel. 'Abigail was as much at risk as me so you could
claim that I led her into danger.'

'You're
as bad as each other. Good riddance to her, I say!'

'I'll
take a rather fonder farewell than that.'

'Are
you going to see her now?' Daniel nodded. 'Then I ought to come with you to
stand guard. I know what fond farewells can do. I must have lost over a dozen
men who went to wave off their sweethearts then never came back again.'

'There's
no chance of my deserting, Henry. All that I intend to do is to wish her well
on the journey. What harm is there in that?'

'Miss
Piper is a woman and women are
made
of harm.'

'You
malign the sex unjustly,' said Daniel, laughing at his friend's curt misogyny.
'But you won't be able to grumble about Abigail for much longer. This time
tomorrow, she'll be miles from here.' He set off. 'I'll see you later, Henry.'

'Make
sure you come without
her,'
Welbeck called after him.

Daniel
had long ago divined the source of Welbeck's hatred of women. The sergeant came
from a family that consisted of a tyrannical mother and three older sisters,
all of whom made his life a misery. Outnumbered and too small to fight back, he
had endured the persecution until he was old enough to run off to the army.
Behind his loathing of the opposite sex was a lurking fear of them. While he
would readily confront any foe in battle, Welbeck was quietly terrified of
being left alone with a woman. In that respect, he and Daniel were worlds
apart. His friend might flee from intimacy and hide behind his alleged contempt
for women but Daniel always welcomed closeness.

After
striding through the camp, he reached Abigail's tent and called out her name.
It was Emily Greene who emerged to give him a token curtsey.

'Good
afternoon, Captain Rawson,' she said.

'Hello,
Emily. I was hoping to see your mistress.'

'She
went off to your tent over an hour ago, sir.'

'Did
she?' said Daniel in surprise. 'Then she must have lost her way. I was there
most of the afternoon and saw no sign of her.'

'A
soldier brought a message from you.'

'What
message?'

'It
was an invitation to join you,' said Emily, starting to worry. 'I helped Miss
Abigail to get ready then the man took her off. He was a private from your
regiment, Captain Rawson.'

'Well,
I certainly never sent him.'

'Then
who could he be?'

'That's
exactly what I'm asking myself,' said Daniel, controlling his disquiet. 'It
would have taken her no more than five minutes to reach my tent from here yet
you say she's been gone for over an hour.'

'Yes,
sir.'

'Did
this man give a name?'

'No,
Captain Rawson. He just passed on his message.'

'I'd
never have sent a verbal invitation. I'd have done Miss Piper the courtesy of
writing a short note to her. Let's go back to the start, Emily,' he advised.
'Describe this man as accurately as you can then tell me precisely what he
said.'

Emily
gulped. 'Do you think Miss Abigail is in trouble, sir?'

'I
think we need to find her as quickly as possible,' said Daniel seriously. 'Now
- what did this man look like?'

She
could not believe it. Abigail Piper was surrounded by thousands of soldiers yet
not one of them came to her aid. After being imprisoned in the tent for a
while, she was forced to walk out on the arm of her captor. Before she did so, she
let her handkerchief drop behind the box in the hope that it would be found and
act as a clue to her disappearance. She prayed that the man beside her would
make a mistake and arouse the suspicions of the sentries. It did not happen.
Charles Catto had enough confidence to chat freely with the pickets as he and
Abigail went past them. She could not understand why they did not recognise the
distress she was in. Abigail was exuding fear and panic yet nobody seemed to
notice. All that the men observed were her youthful beauty and her shapely
figure.

Once
outside the perimeter, they took a leisurely stroll in the direction of some
trees. Abigail was on tenterhooks. The farther away they went from the safety
of the camp, the more rattled she became. The fact that she had no idea who her
companion was and what designs he might have upon her, made it even worse. The
man had given nothing away. He had interrogated her about her friendship with
Daniel Rawson and was very pleased when she told him that she had left England
solely in order to follow the captain. Encouraged by the man, she had found
herself talking more candidly about her feelings than she had done to Daniel
himself, admitting how those feelings had changed somewhat in the wake of the
battle.

As
long as she was in the camp, there had always been an outside chance that she
would be missed then sought out. It was a thought that had sustained her
throughout her incarceration in the tent with an armed man. In the event, nobody
seemed aware that she had gone astray and she was now taken out of reach of any
possible rescue. Approaching the copse, she suddenly stopped.

'Let
me go,' she pleaded. 'Im no use to you.'

'On
the contrary,' said Catto, 'you are of great use.'

'If
it's money you want, I have some that I can give you.'

'I
need a lot more than money from you, Miss Piper.'

'Where
are we going?'

'Keep
walking.'

'We're
not supposed to be outside the boundary of the camp.'

'Keep
walking,' he ordered, tightening his grip on her arm so that he could pull her
forward. 'You've behaved yourself this far, Miss Piper. If you become
obstructive, I shall get very angry.'

'I
just want to know what's happening!' she exclaimed.

'We
are going for a pleasant walk, that's all.'

'Where
are you taking me?'

'Stop
asking questions.'

'I
want to know what's going on.'

'Come
now, Miss Piper,' he said. 'You're an intelligent young lady. You must have
worked it out by now. You're being kidnapped.'

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