Dark Angel (28 page)

They fell easily into the rhythm of the journey. By some tacit understanding none of them spoke of what lay beyond Lisbon. Nor, for Emily's sake, did they talk of the dangers of the past nor what Talbot might do in the future.

The country was wild and beautiful. As they neared the River Tagus they came upon vineyards and olive trees and groves of oranges, their golden fruit giving promise of sun and plenty. But the ravages of war remained. Houses stood in ruin and village squares were overrun with weeds. There was a constant passing of troops, but the villages had been stripped of their young and able men and there was scant labor to tend the fields.

One day a sudden rainstorm forced them to take refuge in a convent on a hill above an abandoned village. Soldiers had been quartered there and the building was devastated: altars were pulled down, paintings slashed, the organ defaced. Caroline had never seen such wanton destruction and she wanted to weep. Emily looked around in bewilderment and hid her head in her mother's skirt as if to hide herself from the evil that had rested there.

"Come on, little one." Hawkins held out his hand. "We're likely to be here a while. Let's go and explore."

Emily brightened at once and followed Hawkins across the rubble littering the chapel floor and out into the loggia beyond.

"He's so good," Caroline said. "He always knows the right thing to do."

"He does." Caroline heard an odd note in Adam's voice and looked up. A smile was playing about his lips. He met her gaze and said, "That's why I keep him with me."

"The question is, why does he stay?"

"Oh, that. I keep his life unpredictable."

"Hawkins said you met on the ship coming back from India."

"Six months and nothing to do but take each other's meaure."

"He decided you'd pass muster."

Adam grinned. "Ah, well, he has his foolish side."

Caroline picked up a small picture lying face down on the littered floor. It was a Madonna and child, the face of the Lady irretrievably slashed, but the blue and gold of her robe still glowing in the dim light of the chapel. She set it down carefully against the wall. "How did you meet up with Hawkins again? After you returned to London?"

Adam moved into the body of the church. "I saw him when I came to investigate—" He broke off and moved farther away.

"When you came to investigate the fraud. I understand."

Adam turned round to look at her across the width of the church. "He didn't want to go into his father's shop. I took him back to the Peninsula with me and persuaded Stuart to hire him."

Caroline followed Adam across the church. He was standing near the organ which had been pulled from the wall. He ran his hands lightly over the keys. There was no sound. "Let's get out of here," he said abruptly. "I've had my fill of war."

When they emerged into the loggia which ran round a central courtyard, there was no sign of Emily and Hawkins. The air was cleaner, but even here there were signs of ruin. Two of the pillars supporting the loggia had been cracked through and the fountain in the center of the courtyard was overturned.

"Who did it, Adam? Theirs or ours?"

"Theirs, I think." Adam held out a little cockade that had once decorated the hat of a French soldier. "I found this in the chapel. But I've seen our side do the same, or worse."

They began strolling along the loggia. Caroline picked a stray green shoot that had sprouted between the flagstones and chewed on it thoughtfully. "When I came to Lisbon, I hated the French. And then I heard people say that things had been better when the French were there. Junot put hundreds of poor people to work cleaning the streets, and he made the rich pay for them. The police were less corrupt and the government more efficient. I didn't know what to believe."

"And do you now?"

Caroline frowned. "Victor wants the French to leave his country. But he doesn't want the Spanish king back either." She broke the shoot in two and tossed the pieces on the ground. "I'd say a pox on all of us, French and English alike. We fight each other, but it's the Spanish and the Portuguese who suffer. The women. The children. The land."

"The innocents. It's always that way." Adam spoke with such a welling of bitterness that Caroline knew he was not talking about this war but one far in the past.

She searched for words of comfort but could not find them. Instead she asked, "What happened, Adam? About the foundry?" Now that they could speak of it, she was desperate for the whole story. "Jared wouldn't talk about it. No one would tell me anything."

Adam stopped and searched her face. "What do you know, Caro?"

She took a breath, trying to order the confused impressions of five years and more past. Then she resumed walking. "Jared told me he was investing in an iron foundry in Surrey. The founder, Matthew Bell, needed capital, and Jared had brought in Edward Farnwood, Talbot's older brother—Jared was Edward's secretary, that seemed natural enough—and a friend, George Sheriton. A few months, maybe a year later, Jared told me he was ruined. I went to you and”-—she looked away—“you know what happened. Then I went to Edward, but he didn't want to talk to me about it. I wasn't surprised. Jared had forged Edward's signature on a bank draft. I went to Sherry—Mr. Sheriton—and he said something about a bribe."

"His name was Leighton. Captain Leighton. He was Assistant Inspector of Artillery. There were supposed to be three men involved in proofing the guns submitted by the ordnance contractors, but the inspector was likely to be absent as often as not and the burden fell on Leighton. It was Leighton whom Jared bribed."

"And the third man?"

"The Proof-Master. His name was Newton. By the time we got to Leighton, Newton had gone off to Portsmouth. I followed him there but he'd managed to get himself transferred to the Peninsula. I don't know if he was involved. He was killed the following year at Talavera."

"What happened to the ironfounder, Matthew Bell?"

"He lost his contracts, of course. I talked to him once, but he was evasive at best. The men who worked for him said he was pushing them to work faster than they ought and he didn't want to hear about problems in casting the cannon. He claimed to know nothing about Leighton."

"He was involved, wasn't he? The founder, Jared, Leighton, maybe even Newton."

"A conspiracy? Yes, I think so. A conspiracy to commit fraud."

Caroline stopped and whirled around to face him. "Oh, Adam, once everything seemed so simple. Now nothing is simple at all."

"I'm sorry, Caro," Adam said, putting his hand on her arm.

"Don't pity me. I've grown up, you see. I know the world isn't fair."

Adam brushed his fingers against her cheek and drew her to him as though he would kiss her. Feeling the warmth of his breath on her skin, Caroline lifted her face and parted her lips, wantonly eager. But as he lowered his head to hers, a shout came from across the courtyard. "Mama! Adam!" Emily appeared on the other side of the loggia. "It's stopped raining."

It had. Adam released Caroline and they hastened to gather the horses and mule and leave the hilltop convent to the ravages of the earth.

Still it was possible for hours at a time to forget the war. Two days later they entered a village and found it swarming with pigs. It was a fair day, and all through the main street women were seated on the ground beside hampers filled with rice and peas and beans and freshly baked bread. They called out cheerfully to the visitors and urged them to take some wine. Emily, who was riding with Adam at the time, begged to be put down, and once on her feet ran to join a circle of children who were clapping and singing nonsense words.

Lisbon seemed an eternity away. They tethered their horses and moved into the crowd. There were at least ten women for each man, but the men seemed the center of attention. At least the wine, which was harsh and strong, made them so. Keeping an eye on Emily, who was wholly occupied with her newfound friends, Caroline moved slowly down the street, stopping here and there to speak to the women. She felt at home, as she had felt at home in Acquera. How much she had changed. What had happened to the Caroline Rawley who hated vulgarity and thought of little but the cut of her gowns and the proper blending of her scent.

Adam and Hawkins had disappeared and when Caroline turned around to look for them she saw them in animated conversation with an old woman who was holding something glittering in her hand. Curious, Caroline made her way back through the crowd and saw that the object of bargaining was a handsome pair of massive gold earrings.

"Oh, how beautiful," Caroline cried without thinking. Then, aware that she might seem to be angling for a present, she added quickly, "For a woman who can wear them." The old woman turned to her and Caroline backed away. "No, no, they're much too heavy for me."

It was a supremely awkward moment. "I know someone who can wear them," Hawkins said, his face breaking into a wide grin. Adam came to a decision and reached for his purse. Caroline watched him but could read no clue in his expression. Discomfited, she looked away.

The transaction was barely completed when there was a great roaring from somewhere farther down the street. A man clutching a flagon to his breast was fighting off the attentions of two women who were urging him in loud voices to go home. The man, his face red with exertion and drink, pulled off their caps and staggered away, only to be met by a younger man who seemed intent on making peace among them. The drunkard dealt him a wild blow, which glanced off the younger man's chin, and the latter, now thoroughly enraged, returned the blow to greater effect.

Within an instant the entire street was engaged, men, women, children, and pigs. Blows were exchanged and hats and caps flew through the air, all accompanied by a great deal of shouting. Caroline looked round for Emily, fearing that she could get hurt in the melee, but by this time she was perched on Hawkins's shoulders, laughing and calling out to her friends.

Children, Caroline decided, have no proper sense of danger. And then she realized that it was not really dangerous at all. The shouting was good-humored and the blows did not seem to be doing any serious damage. Within minutes the crowd quieted and began picking up dirty hats and caps. The drunkard, now sobered by the battle he had caused, was led off in triumph by the two women.

It was, they all agreed, a thoroughly satisfactory interlude. Except, of course, for the matter of the earrings, but Caroline could not say anything about them. Adam might have bought them for her, a thought that pleased her enormously, but he might also have bought them for his Aunt Margaret in London. Or more likely for a woman of whom she knew nothing. Caroline was seized by a fit of jealousy, not because the earrings might not be hers but because somewhere there might be a woman Adam cared enough about to think to buy her a gift.

In the past, it was Adam who had been jealous. Caroline had feared the singleminded intensity of his longing for her, but she had had the luxury of never doubting that she came first. But that was many years ago. Adam had a life of his own. Surely that life included women.

They were now four, days from Lisbon. Caroline had resolved to think of nothing but the present, but as they neared the end of their journey she found it impossible to hold to her resolution. She could not help but think of the future. And of Talbot. He had hired men to kill her in Spain—unthinkable, but it had to be thought of—and there was no reason to expect she would be safer from him in England.

"Adam," she said one afternoon when they had stopped by the river to water the horses, "I'm a danger to Talbot because of what I know. Or what he suspects I know. Talbot could always control Jared, but I think he would have seen even Jared as a danger had he lived." She shaded her eyes and looked down river where Hawkins was teaching Emily to skip stones. "You're a danger to him too. He's not stupid. He knows we've been friends for years and he'll assume that I've told you."

"Possibly," Adam admitted. "It makes his task harder."

She looked up at him. "He's afraid we'll tell the story. And that's exactly what we must do. Oh, yes, I know you'll talk to people at the Ordnance Office, but those things take time, and we may not have any time. We have to talk to other people, Adam, people who know him, people who won't let him go any further with this crazy scheme. It's the only way to be safe. He can shut me up. Maybe he can even do the same to you. But if a dozen people know the story, he'll have no more reason to do us harm."

"Who will you tell, Caro? Lord Granby?"

"Why not?"

"Why should he believe you? The widow of his disgraced nephew making monstrous accusations against his own son in a vain effort to clear her husband's name. What proof do you have? A glimpse of a man talking to Rawley's batman. Some words spoken by Jared in the agony of fever. A few more words repeated by a young stableboy who might not have heard correctly. Your own all too fertile imagination. Don't talk to Granby, Caro. You'll make an enemy. You'd do better to go to Jared's father."

"No!" The word came out sharp and distinct. "I can't, not after the way he treated Jared. He disowned him, Adam. 'You're no son of mine,' he said. 'You've broken your mother and you've broken me and I never want to see your shameful face again.' No, he won't listen to me. Even if he did, he'd demand proof, and proof is what we don't have." Only what Adam would be able to learn and perhaps what she would be able to learn herself. "I shall rely on my wits to keep me safe."

"And on mine, I trust." Adam smiled and then his face went suddenly serious. "I'd give my life to keep you safe, Caro."

Caroline's heartbeat quickened. She reminded herself that Adam would do as much for Emily or Hawkins or anyone else to whom he was bound by friendship and honor. But his words burned through her and she felt a sudden rush of desire. Dear God, how she wanted this man whom she had loved and hurt and betrayed and whom she could now ask for nothing but kindness and friendship. She dared not meet his eyes. They stood silent for an eternity, and then Emily's voice broke the spell. Grateful for an excuse to leave him, Caroline ran downstream and watched Emily demonstrate her newly acquired skill. A few minutes later they were back on their horses, and Adam gave no sign that the interlude by the river had ever taken place.