Lucy Lane and the Lieutenant (12 page)

If she could not have the Nathan back that she had known, and his love had been a large part of that, she would settle for nothing less. She wondered how long it was going to take to break through his mistrust of her. If it took for ever—and after spending days dampening her body’s eager response to his, she prayed to God it did not—she would make him see he had nothing to fear, that she would rip off her own arms before she would do him harm in any way.

Raising her head, she cried with bitterness, ‘Yes, Nathan, I do still have feelings for you. I admit it and I, too, have fought it and will continue to do so until all this is over. Until then we must conquer our feelings.’

One of the horses whickered softly and the stream gurgled on its way. Nathan stirred and put his hand on her arm. ‘I agree. I did not mean this to happen, but it has. There will be no repeat of this—unless you wish it.’

‘I cannot,’ she whispered, though she dared not look at him. ‘I cannot,’ she repeated. ‘At this time, I would hate myself.’

‘And hate me?’ He spoke low and gentle.

She looked at him with pain-filled eyes. ‘Dear God, I could never hate you. Don’t torture me with these questions, and let me go’, for his hand had tightened on her arm and he put his face close to hers. She gathered all her strength and cried, ‘Have you forgotten why we are both here?’

* * *

Lucy’s words were like a douche of cold water. They brought him to his senses and he stared at her anew. She was right. Each day her hold upon his very thoughts had grown stronger, and he had been hard pressed to withhold his more amorous attentions. He wanted her, but he was too afraid to trust that she would stay with him. And where that mistrust had once led him only to anger and resentment, it now made his heart ache in a way he had not known possible.

My God, could he be falling in love with her all over again? he wondered, then firmly told himself, no, and after that repeated it to himself for good measure. He was not falling in love with her and firmly refused to do so. Her beauty and her closeness might be able to woo his body, but he would never willingly give her his heart again. He would not allow himself to set aside his worldly ways and self-esteem, not at this time when it was imperative that he kept tight hold on his self-control. He had suffered a moment of weakness and he must not allow it to happen again.

Damn it, he could not afford this distraction right now. Lucy’s very presence preoccupied his thoughts when he most needed to focus. He drew back sharply and got to his feet.

‘You are right, Lucy, and I apologise for allowing my ardour to get the better of me. We need to be focused. Katherine and her child are our main priority.’

* * *

All the time Lucy rode beside Nathan or followed him along narrow, winding paths, she was aware of him. All about them was the sweep of the landscape and a sky full of birds rising and wheeling in glittering formations against the puffs of cloud. The kiss had disturbed her greatly. She realised what had nearly happened between them. How simple it would be, she thought, to slip back into their old ways.

But things were different between them now. Nathan had, after all, made no pledge for the future. Although they knew each other as intimately as was possible between a man and a woman, when they had been young, confident, resilient and the future had held no fear for them, things were no longer the same.
They
were no longer the same. Better to keep him at arm’s length, prudence whispered. Then the heartache wouldn’t hurt quite so much when they parted.

Besides, if she allowed him to have his way with her and as a result got with child—which was something neither of them had given much thought to in the past—his freedom would be jeopardised. She didn’t ever want him to feel as if he was tied to her simply because he might be pressed to do the right thing by his offspring.

Deep down, she was beginning to learn that there was a part of Nathan that had escaped her, a part she could not reach no matter how hard she tried. And always, a small fear lurked in the back of her mind that this time that they were together, a time she would cherish, was too good to be true.

* * *

As they progressed with their journey, the Tagus never far from their sights, evidence of the conflict that had ravaged Portugal was everywhere. Villages were in ruins with few houses left standing. Lucy was glad Nathan didn’t linger in these places.

Portugal was a land of contrasts and after four years of war it was a land soaked with the blood of men, men who had battled for supremacy, for and against Napoleon.

As Lucy rode beside Nathan her admiration for him grew. He seemed to be made of solid steel. Apparently nothing affected this incredibly brave man. Having spent many hours in the saddle, she was tormented by weariness and cramps, but nothing in the world would have made her admit it. She gritted her teeth to stop herself crying out as the saddle chafed her sore legs and jarred her aching back. She said nothing as she struggled on, knowing full well that the success of their mission was more important than her discomfort. As she listened to the birds’ carefree singing, she eased her body into a new position with a tough strength, thinking that no matter how arduous the journey, she would bear it, for Katherine’s sake.

* * *

The sun was setting when they reached Villa Franca—yet another wretched place. Here there was an inn for the accommodation of travellers and also a rendezvous for all manner of miscreants. The landlord asked no questions, responded with a shrug to Nathan’s Portuguese, pocketed the generous coin he gave him for a bed and someone to take care of the horses and make sure they weren’t stolen, and after feeding them on sorry beefsteaks, bad bread and sour wine, allotted them a small chamber above. Lucy would have preferred a chamber to herself, but she was so tired she made no complaint.

Nathan indicated the bed. ‘Get in and go to sleep. You look done in.’

Unable to stifle a yawn, Lucy took off her hat before removing her boots and jacket. Aware that Nathan was watching her closely, she considered it best to keep her breeches on. Turning back the covers, she crawled into bed as he began to undress.

‘It’s best I sleep nearest the door,’ he said, ‘in case we have visitors.’

Lucy quickly moved to the other side of the bed. She was reminded of all the times they had occupied the same bed in the past, when sleep had been the last thing on their minds. Now, she was too saddle-sore and exhausted to be distracted by anything other than sleep.

Having placed the saddlebag with its precious gold on the opposite side of the room to the door, seeing there was no lock Nathan wedged the only chair firmly against it. With his pistol and sword close at hand, he blew out the candle and lay down beside her. A lantern outside swinging in the breeze cast its bouncing shadows dimly into the room. To her dismay, Lucy found her shirt was caught beneath him. She waited for him to move, but minutes passed and he did not and then she knew he had fallen asleep with his cheek against her soft curls.

With a sigh of resignation, she settled herself as best she could to pass the night in bondage, but with his presence close beside her, she found security and she sank into the realms of slumber.

* * *

Nathan came awake slowly, as if swimming upwards from the bottom of a deep pool. His mind was filled with the feel of Lucy warm and soft against him. Those tender breasts beneath her shirt were pressed against his back and her thighs were snuggled under his buttocks. His manhood rose as he thought of taking her, not by force, but with gentle persuasion.

Her lovely face swam in a vision, sultry and soft, her lips parted and moist through which her breath came. In his vision her hair seemed to beckon him forwards, caress him as he kissed her. Her arms were welcoming, encircling him, taking him into her as he pressed his manhood home.

His manhood and his mind united to betray him. Honour, self-esteem and self-control became lost in a puff of smoke before the onslaught of his passions. He was about to turn over, to relieve his masculine persuasion, but on opening his eyes, in the cold light of dawn, his hot blood waned and a cold consciousness replaced it. He recoiled with some distaste at having nearly lost himself and, throwing back the covers, rose from the bed.

Hastily shrugging himself into his clothes, he gazed down at Lucy’s sleeping form, innocent and tender, still deep in slumber. He was reluctant to wake her, but he knew he must if they were to make an early start. Now wide awake, he was greatly disturbed. His body commanded him where his mind did not, and of late these visions were recurring with more and more frequency. If he wasn’t careful they would get the better of him and weaken him, and then where would he be?

* * *

Resuming their journey, they arrived at the small village of Cartaxo on the Tagus, which, Nathan told Lucy, had been Lord Wellington’s headquarters twice. The church was in ruins, as indeed were almost all the villages they passed through. They reached Santarem late in the afternoon. It was a fine, large town, surrounded with orange groves, but the streets were very dirty.

Nathan didn’t intend staying the night in Santarem. He had another destination in mind to the north of the town. Wanting to stretch their legs, they led their horses through the busy streets, strolling along in companionable silence. The saddlebags containing the precious gold were almost hidden beneath rolled blankets. Although Lucy looked about her with interest, she was alive to the man beside her. It occurred to her that this was the first time they had done this and she found it a pleasurable change from being bounced up and down on her horse.

‘Have you been here before?’ she enquired casually, stepping out of the way of a one-armed man wearing the red jacket of an English soldier, the empty sleeve pinned to his tunic.

‘Once,’ Nathan replied. ‘The town is divided into upper and lower and is full of convents. Many of them have been converted into hospitals for our sick and wounded. Do you see that building up there?’ He pointed out a building of immense size and height on the skyline.

‘Yes. Is it a convent?’

He nodded and when he answered he had to raise his voice to make himself heard above the cacophony of bells. ‘As you can hear Santarem is as bad as Lisbon for bells.’

Lucy laughed. ‘I’ve noticed. The noise will hardly be a blessed retirement and solace for the sick and wounded when they are all going at once,’ she remarked, already tired of the constant ringing. ‘You were telling me about the convent up there.’

‘It’s of particular interest. On the top is a telegraph to communicate with Villa Franca and Abrantes.’

‘Telegraph? What is that?’

‘It’s the medium whereby Lisbon knows every transaction relating to the army, before any dispatches can arrive. Outside the town are the remains of some Roman walls, of particular interest to the historian. If we had the time to linger, I would enjoy showing them to you.’

‘I would like to see them.’ She smiled. ‘You will have to tell me about them instead.’

‘That’s not the same as seeing for oneself.’

‘Indeed not, but this is no holiday, Nathan, and we cannot allow ourselves to become sidetracked with other matters. We have to get on. The sooner we make contact with Gameau and find Katherine, the sooner we will get back to Lisbon.’

They stepped aside as two children bolted from an alley, a boy and girl, laughing and shouting their enthusiasm, a barrel hoop ahead of them. Each time the hoop wandered off course, one of the children struck it with a stick and sent the makeshift toy careering ahead. Lucy stopped as the children ran past them. Their faces begrimed with the dirt of the street, they stared with bright innocent eyes at Lucy, for her disguise did not fool them.

‘
Olá
, pretty lady,’ the boy said in broken English.

The hoop, with no one to guide it, rattled off to the side and interrupted a flock of feeding hens that squawked their dismay and scattered in all directions. The commotion broke the spell Lucy’s presence had woven around the children and they scampered back from them towards the safety of a nearby house.

Watching them go, Lucy laughed. ‘So much for my disguise. Those children weren’t deceived.’

They walked on in silence, emerging into a large plaza, humming with strident voices as people tried to make themselves heard over the noise of the bells. Displaced and wounded soldiers milling with the crowd all around them were a reminder of the war still going on, a war that was all about power and control, of winning and losing, of living and dying.

Lucy glanced at the man beside her. He wore his power lightly, but until this was over she would be subject to his will.

Sensing her preoccupation, Nathan regarded her, wondering not for the first time if he had been wise to bring her here. But she had shown such courage and presence of mind, and never at any time had she treated him to a fit of feminine hysterics. In fact, he thought that she had more spirit and more nerve than many men he’d met. She was remarkable in so many ways.

‘Are you all right, Lucy?’

She nodded, keeping her gaze fixed ahead of her. ‘Yes, perfectly.’

‘You seem uneasy.’

‘Of course I’m uneasy. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t. I want this to be over. Soon.’

‘It will be. I promise.’ His gaze settled warmly on her face. ‘I thought the journey might tax your strength. You are doing well.’

Lucy wanted so much to believe him, but she was dreading meeting Claude Gameau and his band of outlaws.

* * *

They shared little conversation as they rode away from Santarem and headed towards wooded hills to the north. After an hour’s ride they reached a narrow track. They nearly missed it altogether, so sheltered was it by looming oaks and pines and so untravelled it appeared. They rode on until they came to some tall, rusty iron gates that stood open. They followed a driveway lined with tall hedges, past a few decrepit outbuildings and a huge woodpile. The silence was complete. As the drive climbed upwards, nothing broke the stillness. So it was with some surprise that Nathan turned into a narrow opening and Lucy saw beyond a hedge overgrown gardens and a large ancient building standing four-square, its windows small, deep set and shuttered and barred in the evidently thick walls.