Dark Angel (25 page)

Adam recalled standing outside the Finley-Abbott church at a country fête, watching a twelve-year-old Caroline talk to the Rawley children and feeling the same sense that she had moved into a world he could not enter.

"You're bound for Lisbon, I imagine," Somerset was saying.

"Yes, but I have to stop by headquarters first." Adam collected himself. He was no longer a boy to be hurt and disillusioned. He was all too well aware of the gulf between him and Caroline. "I have a dispatch for your employer."

Somerset whistled appreciatively. "My word, you have been busy, haven't you? But you won't find the Beau in headquarters. He's ridden to Villa de Tomo to inspect a troop of horse artillery. I'll serve as your guide if you've a mind to catch him."

Adam frowned for a moment, then nodded. He wanted to talk to Wellington as quickly as possible. "Thank you." He turned to speak to Caroline, but she was staring across the hall, her gaze fixed on a dark-haired man who was pushing his way toward them. Even as Adam recognized the man's arrogant stance, Caroline hurried forward, both hands extended.

"Talbot!" Her back was to Adam, but he could hear the pleasure in her voice. The dark-haired man captured both her hands in his and bent to kiss her on the cheek. He said something in a low voice which Adam could not make out. Nor could he follow Caroline's answer, though he heard her say "Jared" and assumed she was explaining her husband's death.

"That's Colonel Rawley, isn't it?" Somerset said. "I assume there's a family connection."

"He's her husband's cousin." Adam felt a small tug on his leg and looked down. Emily was clinging to him. He stroked her hair reassuringly, though in truth he felt anything but reassured himself. He and Talbot Rawley had met as children when Talbot visited his cousins in Staffordshire. And they had met again five years ago when Adam investigated the ordnance fraud. Talbot had been attached to the Ordnance Office at that time. Adam suspected he had helped steer contracts toward Jared's company, but he had found no evidence that Talbot had had anything to do with the actual fraud.

Talbot had changed little since childhood. His dark hair was more carefully combed now, but he had the same air of rakish indolence that Adam remembered in the adolescent boy. The pelisse adopted by the officers of the Royal Horse Artillery was slung negligently over the shoulders of his gold-laced jacket. He had been a year older than Jared, which would make him thirty-two now. Adam had no reason to dislike him, save that he had been Jared's friend and part of Caroline's old life. And that he was looking at Caroline with much too warm a smile.

Caroline took Talbot by the arm and drew him back toward them, her face lit by a smile. "The nicest coincidence," she said. "You remember Talbot, don't you, Adam? Oh, Lord Fitzroy, forgive my manners. I assume you are acquainted with Colonel Rawley?"

Hands were shaken all round. Emily stared up at Talbot with curiosity. At her mother's prompting she murmured a greeting, but she continued to cling to Adam.

If Talbot bore Adam any ill will for his cousin's disgrace, he gave no sign of it. "My dear fellow, I can't begin to thank you," he said warmly. "I should have gone after Caroline mself."

Adam made no comment. Talbot spoke nothing but the truth. Though in fairness, Adam knew he had probably had an easier time obtaining leave than Talbot would have done.

"I was in Oporto all winter," Talbot explained, turning to Caroline. "It was March before I learned Jared had been wounded. And that you had gone after him. My God, Caroline, you were always impulsive, but if I'd known you meant to take such a risk—"

"Perhaps it was foolish," Caroline said, lifting her chin. "But it's done now. And I'm not sorry I did it." There was a touch of the young Caroline in her voice. Adam wondered if not being sorry included the hours she had spent in his bed.

Talbot smiled, as if to say he would not dream of quarreling with a lady. "I'm stationed at Malhada Sorda now," he explained, "but fortunately my commander sent me to headquarters with dispatches today."

"You're not the only one," Somerset said. "In addition to rescuing fair damsels, Durward's managed to acquire information."

"Good God," said Talbot. "I've heard stories about you, Durward. It seems you more than live up to your reputation. Gathering intelligence with women and children in tow is definitely, beyond the call of duty."

Adam met the other man's gaze, aware of the implied criticism that he had not taken proper care of Caroline and Emily. "Pure luck," Adam said. "Pure, blind luck as it happens. Somerset, if you'll give me a few moments to see Mrs. Rawley and Emily settled, we can be off."

"Oh, no need to worry about that," Talbot assured him. "I'd be delighted to look after them. I'm sure I can persuade the innkeeper to oblige me with a private parlor. It will give us a chance to catch up on news."

Adam hesitated, though he knew he had no rational reason to do so. "Do hurry, Adam," Caroline said, smiling at him. "Emily and I will be fine. And I shall feel a great deal easier once you've made your report."

Adam hesitated a moment longer, then gave a curt nod. His last sight, before he turned to follow Somerset from the inn, was of Caroline, Emily clinging to her skirts, making her way down the entrance hall on the arm of Jared's cousin.

"Poor Jared. I was told he had little chance, but to hear he's actually dead... It seems like yesterday we were all gathered in your sitting room in Lisbon." Talbot crossed one booted leg over the other. "How long has it been?"

"Christmas, 1811," Caroline said. "You were on leave and Jared brought you to see us."

"Over a year." Talbot shook his head. "I'm sorry, Caroline. I should have come more often."

Caroline smiled. "There's no room for regret in the midst of a war." She touched his hand gently. "You stood by Jared, Talbot. I'll always be grateful for that."

"Good God, Caroline," Talbot said in mock affront. "He was my cousin. It was the least I could do."

"It was more than the rest of the family could manage," Caroline said. But she spoke with less bitterness than she would have done a few weeks ago. It was difficult to feel bitter when she was able to truly relax for the first time in months. Caroline leaned back against the sofa, luxuriating in the feel of velvet upholstery at her back, and took a sip of the wine Talbot had ordered. It was light and pleasantly flavored, very different from the harsher liquid they had drunk in Acquera and on the journey.

She glanced at Emily, who was sprawled on the floor by the fireplace, acting out stories with a set of carved wooden chess pieces begged from the innkeeper, then looked back at Talbot. In the old days, before the war, before Jared's disgrace, he had been in and out of their house a great deal. Caroline had had mixed feelings about Talbot then. Reckless and impulsive, he had been Jared's companion in drinking and gambling and very likely whoring as well. Caroline had more than once thought that without Talbot's influence her husband might have curbed his excesses.

But in the end, Talbot had proved a good friend to Jared. Though he knew about the bribe, Talbot had seen to it that any rumors among Jared's fellow soldiers were firmly quashed.

Talbot was watching her, his expression serious. "Were you able to get there in time?" he asked softly.

Caroline found it was a relief to be able to speak of Jared. "Barely," she said. "He was very ill and often delirious. But he recognized me."

"I'm glad," Talbot said, reaching over to refill her wine glass. "It's a pity he was delirious, though I suppose that made it easier for him, poor devil." He held the glass out to her. "I suppose this is a selfish question, but did he speak of me at all?"

Caroline's hand trembled as she took the glass. Most of Jared's last words had been about Vimeiro, an attack of conscience over the lives lost from the faulty cannon. But he had also apologized to her for the wreck of their marriage.
I'm so sorry it all went wrong,
he had said, clinging to her hand. And then, /
never should have listened to Talbot.
Jared might be right that Talbot's influence had not improved their marriage. But Jared had always tended to blame other people. Most of the fault lay with Jared and her.

Caroline carefully set her glass down on the table. She could scarcely repeat Jared's words to Talbot. "No," she said, "he didn't mention any of the family. I'm afraid he wasn't very coherent."

"Of course," Talbot said, but Caroline knew he had seen through her lie. She cursed herself for not having handled Talbot's question better, but she could see no way to amend her mistake. If she told Talbot the truth, he would feel even worse.

The shadows slanting through the windows were beginning to lengthen. Talbot pulled out his watch. "I'm afraid I'm engaged to dine with friends. I could cry off—"

"Oh, no, you must keep the appointment," Caroline insisted, and then wondered if she had spoken too eagerly. Lying to Talbot had left her uncomfortable in his presence. "Emily and I can amuse ourselves very well until Adam returns," she added quickly.

Talbot got to his feet with reluctance. "I'll call on you tomorrow morning, if I may."

"Please do." Caroline felt a need to make up for the awkwardness between them. "I don't know where we'll be staying, but I'm sure Fitzroy Somerset can tell you."

When the door closed behind Talbot, Emily looked up from her game. "I don't remember him."

"That's not surprising," Caroline said. "You were only two when you last saw him." She didn't add that Talbot had never paid particular attention to Emily. He wasn't much interested in children.

Caroline dropped down on the floor beside her daughter and admired Emily's arrangement of the chess pieces until Emily announced that she was hungry. While Caroline made a sandwich from the flat loaf of bread and wedge of cheese that had come with the wine, Emily ran about the room, eager for exercise after staying in one position for so long. She stopped by the window and knelt on the window seat, observing the activity in the inn-yard. Then she gave a sudden cry. "Mama! It's him!"

The note of fear in her daughter's voice made Caroline drop the bread knife. "Who?" she asked.

"Him," said Emily, pointing frantically.

Caroline hurried to the window and put an arm round her daughter. Emily huddled close to her, trembling. Caroline glanced about the inn-yard, looking for what could have so alarmed Emily. The yard was crowded with officers and batmen, and boys leading horses to and from the stable, but there was nothing out of the ordinary about the scene.

And then she saw him. He was standing across the yard, in the shadow of the stable, but that long, thin, angular face was unmistakable. She had seen it at the inn in Norilla, staring up at Adam with pleading. And she had seen it in the street in Salamanca, moments before the shot rang out.

The blood rushed from her head. He had followed them. All the way to Portugal. All the way to British Army Headquarters. Dear God, what did he hope to accomplish? Caroline tightened her arm around Emily, though her fingers had gone suddenly nerveless. "It's all right,
querida,"
she said, praying she spoke the truth. "He can't hurt us here."

The man had lifted his arm and was hailing someone. As Caroline watched, a soldier made his way across the inn-yard toward him. The two men stood talking together, the soldier's back to the window so she could not see his face. Caroline leaned forward and rested her forehead against the cool glass of the windowpane, trying to make sense of their meeting. The thin man might merely be asking the soldier for directions. But it looked as if the two men were acquainted. Was the soldier a French spy? If so, he would hardly risk meeting a contact right under the noses of the British command. Besides, Adam had thought the thin man and his companion were not working directly for the French.

Emily turned her face into Caroline's dress. "I don't want to watch anymore, Mama."

"Just a minute,
querida."
As Caroline spoke, the soldier put a hand on the thin man's shoulder and urged him toward the stable door. If they turned just a little more, she would be able to see the soldier's face. At least she would be able to describe him to Adam.

The men disappeared for a moment behind a carriage, then moved into a shaft of waning sunlight. Caroline's heart, which had been hammering so wildly, thudded to a standstill. The soldier had a square, determined face with a scar slashing across his left cheek. It was a face Caroline had not seen in over a year but she recognized it at once. It belonged to Bob Colborne, Talbot Rawley's batman.

Caroline turned from the window and took Emily's hand.

"Are we running away, Mama?" Emily asked, as Caroline drew her to the door.

"No," Caroline said, with a smile that was as reassuring as she could manage, "we're going to find Hawkins."

Hawkins was in the common room, drinking with two soldiers who seemed to be friends of his. Caroline drew him aside and quickly explained what she had seen. Hawkins's eyes widened in surprise, but he wasted no time on unnecessary comment. "Go back to the parlor," he said. "I'll learn what I can. Don't worry, young one," he added, ruffling Emily's hair. "He's probably more scared of us than we are of him."