Lord Harry's Daughter (10 page)

“And so am I."

“You are incorrigible.” He brushed away a dark curl that clung to her forehead. “I begin to have a great deal of sympathy for your servant, the one who was armed to the teeth and watching over you the day I met you."

“Oh Luis.” Sophia smiled guiltily. “Yes, I am afraid that I am a bit of a trial to him."

“Then it is time you learned to be less of a trial to those who wish to look after you. Now come,” he said and, taking her by her shoulders, led her toward the door.

But as they reached the doorway, Sophia stopped and turned to him. “I do not know why you exert yourself so much on our behalf, but thank you."

Mark fought against the impulse to kiss the parted lips and tell her that he would do anything for her. Most of his women complained about his lack of gallantry. Paradoxically, he was discovering that the more this woman wished to do things for herself, the more he wished to do them for her. “Let us just say that I enjoy being of service to a lovely young woman."

It was the wrong thing to say. Her shoulders stiffened and the bemused, half-wondering expression on her face disappeared.

The intimacy of the moment vanished. Sophia regained her air of cool self-possession and the distance between them seemed to widen considerably. Any other woman would have moved closer to him to press her advantage. Not Sophia.

“I forget that you have been around cavalry officers too long to accept any Spanish coin they might offer you. The truth of the matter is that Wellington has dispensed with my services for the moment, and desperate for life-threatening adventure, I asked for the most dangerous assignment I could find, and here I am."

Sophia chuckled and Mark let out an inward sigh of relief as he opened the door for her. It had been a very near thing, but he had managed to retrieve his position with her.

They entered the inn and he paused at the bottom of the stairs. “Good night. We must leave early so that we are at the river when the tide will be at its lowest."

“But, Major, what about you? Are you not going to rest as well?"

“I shall keep an eye on things down here. Believe me, I am quite accustomed to sleeping any time anywhere. Do not concern yourself with me. Now get some rest."

“Very well. Good night then."

“Good night."

Chapter
16

Reluctantly, Sophia climbed the stairs to the bedchamber, where her mother, worn out by the day's exertions, was fast asleep. Sophia wished she had some plausible excuse to remain downstairs talking with the major, savoring the feeling of closeness. There had been something so solid and reassuring about the major's presence and his appreciation of what life had been like with Lord Harry. In fact, from the moment the major had gently wiped the rain from her face, all the discomforts of the journey had seemed to slip away. What was it he had said in the stable? I
wish to save you the effort.
Over the years men had offered her assistance, but they had always done so out of a conviction of their superior ability. Major Lord Mark Adair, on the other hand, had made it clear that he was doing it because he cared for her comfort, not because he doubted her capabilities.

She sighed as she undid the buttons of her riding habit. The major's care and concern for her had been palpable. She had felt it in the warmth of his hands as he had taken her cloak, in the strength of his arm around her shoulder as he had led her from the stable. She had read it in his eyes as they looked at her, searching for signs of cold and fatigue.

Sophia struggled out of the damp riding habit and hung it up carefully, hoping, not too optimistically, that it might be a little less damp by morning. It had felt so wonderful to have someone caring for her, just for her. General Curtis had made their lives much more happy and secure, but, though he had been kindness itself to Sophia, it was clear that all his concern was for her mother, and happy as she was to see this, Sophia felt just the tiniest bit left out. But this time someone had made her comfort and happiness his major concern.

As she put on her night robe and climbed into bed, she told herself that the major would probably have done as much for any, what was it he had called her,
lovely young woman.
Certainly his practiced response to her thanks indicated that he had been in many similar situations, and it behooved her not to put any store by the feelings he had inspired in her. Still, as she pulled the covers up to her chin, Sophia could not help hoping that she was not just any
lovely young woman
to him. No matter what her coolly rational self told her, she found her heart wanting to believe that all the major's solicitude had been because he cared. Surely he would not be able to read her thoughts and feelings with such uncanny ability if he did not care for her at least a little bit?

This was dangerous ground indeed, especially for one who knew only too well how charming gentlemen could lavish attention on their loved ones one day and forget their existence entirely the next. It was time she stopped entertaining such ridiculous notions and put her mind to the journey ahead of her.

Sophia and her mother rose before dawn the next day, but the major was already waiting for them in the parlor when they descended. “I took the liberty of ordering breakfast.” He indicated pots of chocolate and baskets of crusty bread on the table in front of the fire. “I am afraid I cannot give you too long to eat, however, as I have ordered the horses be harnessed and the carriages brought around. We should be at the ford well before the tide is fully out so that we may begin to cross at its lowest ebb."

His smile as he helped both ladies into their chairs at the table was warm, but there was none of the intimacy there had been the previous evening. Observing him under her lashes as she poured her chocolate, Sophia was glad she had talked herself out of assigning any special significance to his attentions the night before. Resolutely ignoring the strange effect this thought seemed to have on her stomach, she helped herself to a large chunk of bread.

It was a subdued and silent party that made its way through the narrow stone streets of Fuenterrabia. A few remaining troops were beginning to stir as they reached the broad meadow outside the city by the river and made their way toward the narrow opening in the earthworks that had protected the meadow from enemy fire across the river.

“See"—Mark pointed to the pontoons pulled up at the shoreline, to form the beginnings of a bridge—"if we had waited a few more days, we could cross high and dry."

“Yes, but a great deal may happen in a few days. Major. Sophia and I could never forgive ourselves if we did not make every effort to provide the general a warm fireplace and a good dinner as quickly as possible."

Mark grinned. “Spoken like a trooper. Very well, then, let us get on with it.” And leaning over to seize the bridle of the lead carriage horse on the first carriage, he led it slowly into the swirling water. The animal snorted and rolled its eyes, but it followed Caesar's lead docilely enough.

For the first moments, Mark was too occupied with his own horse and the animals pulling the carriages to pay attention to Sophia. When he at last had the opportunity to glance back at her, she and Atalanta were well into the river. The water rose nearly to the mare's belly, but horse and rider moved as calmly and deliberately as though they were making a sedate appearance at the peak of the fashionable hour in Hyde Park.

Mark felt the oddest surge of pride as he watched them. The day before, many experienced cavalry officers had had difficulty convincing their mounts to enter the swiftly moving water in the first place, but Sophia never blinked an eye, and her calm demeanor was followed by Atalanta, who trudged across, ears pricked and eyes fixed steadily on the opposite shore.

At last, with a mighty heave, the first carriage horses clambered up the bank on the other side and drew to a halt, their shoulders steaming in the morning sun. The second carriage followed suit and they stood there catching their breaths, looking back at the river they had just pushed their way across. “France at last,” Sophia exclaimed, riding up alongside the carriage. “Did you ever think you would see the day, Mama?"

“No, my dear, I did not.” Lady Curtis leaned out of the carriage. “And a great deal of our successful arrival on French soil is owing to you, Major. I do thank you."

“Yes, thank you,” Sophia, who had been observing the hive of activity on the other shore, added belatedly. Shading her eyes, she turned to survey the rugged slope in front of them. “And there, if I am not mistaken, appears to be a camp on the summit of that peak just ahead of us."

“Yes. It was abandoned yesterday quite hastily by the French and our fellows moved right in. I am told that it is extremely commodious and the view it commands of the Bay of Biscay is truly magnificent."

“Then what are we waiting for?” Sophia gathered up the reins, which had fallen slack while she had paused to catch her breath and reorient herself after fording the river.

“What indeed?” The major could not help shaking his head in amazement. Undaunted by the exertions of fighting the current and struggling to help her horse keep its footing in four feet of water, she was eager to tackle the rugged wooded ridge rising in front of them. Mark urged Caesar in front of the first carriage, and nodding to the coachman, led the way up the rough road that climbed up the ridge.

They progressed steadily, but slowly, plodding along in silence, animals and humans alike concentrating on their footing until at last they arrived at the top, where what appeared to be an entire village lay before them. Streets and squares were laid out with placards bearing the names dear to their former French occupants: rue de paris, rue de versailles, and the new British arrivals were making themselves comfortable in the abandoned huts.

Reining in Atalanta, Sophia halted and inhaled deeply the cool, fresh air, tangy with the scent of pines and camp-fires and the mouthwatering aroma of dinners simmering in pots throughout the camp. Soldiers were cleaning weapons, checking harnesses, and settling into their quarters as calmly as though they had been there for months instead of having forded the river and fought their way up the wooded slope a scant day before. Off in the distance, directly below them, lay the rich plain watered by the Nive and the Nivelle, and on the left, as the major had promised, the Bay of Biscay shimmered a deep blue in the autumn sunshine.

The moment they neared the camp. Mark had spoken to the coachman. “Remain here while I locate the general.” And he had gone in search of General Curtis. He was away for some time and the horses were beginning to shift impatiently in their harnesses when at last the general came hurrying to greet his ladies.

“You made excellent time, my dear,” he exclaimed, helping his wife descend from the carriage. “You had no trouble, I trust?"

“None at all. And our speed is due to the efforts of the major.” Lady Curtis turned to acknowledge their guide, but he had turned to help Sophia dismount.

“I hope you do not think I am such a poor thing as to need any assistance.” Ignoring the hands held out to help her, Sophia slid easily to the ground and, giving her skirt a twitch, strolled over to join the general and her mother.

There was nothing for Mark to do but swallow his chagrin and accept the thanks of the general. “I do appreciate your escorting the ladies. Major. It was a great relief to know that they were in excellent care and believe me, fighting our way across the Bidassoa was less strenuous than keeping an eye on these two strong-minded females. I am deeply in your debt.” He winked at Mark sympathetically before turning back to his wife. “Come along, I must show you our quarters. They are extremely rudimentary, but Speen has positively transformed them. It is only a little larger than the soldiers’ huts, but it does boast a fireplace and a solid roof. I trust that you will be comfortable, but you will recall that you
did
insist on coming, you know."

“I know.” Lady Curtis smiled fondly at her husband as she allowed him to lead her down one of the makeshift streets.

Sophia was just about to follow them when her eye fell on the major as he untied Caesar's bridle from the tree. Something about the tired slump of his shoulders touched her in the oddest way. In the effort to keep Atalanta from losing her footing in the river and then on the tortuous path to the camp, concentrating on the road in front of her, she had almost forgotten the major. And if she was beginning to feel the waves of exhaustion roll over her, how much more must he be experiencing, he who had borne responsibility for leading their little expedition.

“Major?"

Mark turned in some surprise. From the disdainful way she had rejected his offer to help her dismount, he had deduced that she was more than anxious be rid of him. It had been abundantly clear from the beginning of the journey that there had really been no need for him to accompany them. Sophia Featherstonaugh was more than capable of managing such a journey on her own and though she had not spurned his assistance, she had certainly not requested it. And, strangely enough, he, who was less tolerant of helpless females than the average man, rather regretted that she had not asked more of him.

I cannot thank you ...
No, that sounded horribly formal and priggish.
It was most kind of you ...
That hardly sounded better. Sophia twisted her gloves in her hands as she tried to find just the words to let him know how reassuring it had been to know he was there watching over them at every moment of their journey especially when at the sight of the raging river or facing the steep, winding road she had felt her courage weaken.

Mark raised a quizzical eyebrow. It was not like the self-assured Sophia Featherstonaugh to be so ill at ease. “Yes?"

“I ... ah, nothing. Thank you. I just want to thank you."

“For what? I did nothing that you were not completely capable of doing yourself, and completely prepared to accomplish on your own."

“I know.” Sophia bit her lip. How odiously self-satisfied and arrogant that sounded. “I mean, yes, I could have, I suppose, but it was ever so much nicer knowing you were there."

Mark's lip quivered. Her words had come out all in a rush, tumbling over one another. It was blatantly obvious that Miss Featherstonaugh was not accustomed accepting assistance of any kind, and he could not help chuckling at her awkwardness. “Why thank you. Coming from someone as used to control, er,
arranging,
things to her own satisfaction, that is rare praise indeed."

Sophia stiffened. “I do not control..."

“Relax, Miss Featherstonaugh, I was only teasing you. You were having such difficulty thanking me for something I was happy to do, that I could not help teasing you."

“You were?” She wrinkled her brow in such a puzzled way that he burst out laughing. There was no doubt about it, amazingly, self-sufficient, yet charmingly naive at one and the same time, Sophia Featherstonaugh was an original. Certainly he had never encountered a woman so delightfully natural and unassuming in so many ways. “Believe me, I was only too happy to escort you. No, do not poker up at me. I am not offering you platitudes. To be brutally honest, I will tell you that if I had been asked to look after any other females but you and your mother I would have found some way to get out of it no matter who was asking. But I had seen enough of you to know that you would ask nothing of me, that you were entirely capable of making the journey on your own, and, oddly enough, that made me want to help you, not that I did."

“Oh but you did. Every step of the way I knew that if something happened to me, you were there to take care of things. I have never had anyone to take care of me before. Yes, I have Mama, but she does not know about horses and carriages. And yes, I have the general, but he has his own duties to look after. Luis and the others do their best, but they are not thinkers or planners. They only do what they are told to and though they are devoted and hardworking, they cannot do anything they have not been instructed to do. It is simply not in their natures. You, on the other hand, have been dealing with dangerous situations, unexpected occurrences, for years. You have no notion what it is to be able to trust in someone else's abilities like that."