Not Forgotten

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Not Forgotten Page 12

by Elizabeth Johns


  He continued searching through the stack of papers on the table while Amelia went over to the wall to look at the drawings there. Philip knew he had already been in the cave for nearly half an hour, and he needed to get out. He hated being so close and yet not have found the final piece of information he needed.

  “We must go. We have been here too long.” He swiftly made certain everything was back as he had found it. They had just turned to leave when they heard a lock rattle in the door at the end of the cavern.

  “Quick! Under the table!” Grabbing her arm, he pulled her down with him, making certain he was protecting her before turning out the light.

  She was doing an excellent job of remaining still. Despite his years of practice, he still heard the blood pounding wildly through his ears whenever he was in danger of being caught.

  The door swung open slowly, creaking on its hinges. A few small steps sounded on the stone floor, and light spread around the room.

  “I must be hearing things,” a female voice said faintly as small feet walked directly in front of their hiding place. Amelia tensed and he increased his grip on her as a warning. Philip heard footsteps move away again, evidently returning to the door, for it creaked as it was closed, followed by the jingle of keys locking it back in place. Strange is was locked from that side, but where did it lead that direction?

  Amelia let out the breath she had obviously been holding and relaxed in his arms.

  “We need to get out of here at once, before she alerts her guards. Follow me.”

  Philip did not dare to turn his lamp up again. He put an arm about Lady Amelia’s body in silent command and they crawled back to where he had loosened the rope. Having helped Lady Amelia to her feet, he tied the rope around her waist and they hurried back to the cave opening.

  “I will follow you,” he directed, and once she had found her second foothold, he duly began to climb behind her.

  They climbed in silence for perhaps three or four minutes, until Lady Amelia lost her footing and sent a spray of stones and grit into his face. ’Twas no more than he deserved for enjoying her ankles as she climbed.

  “It seems far harder going up,” she remarked as he let out a low curse.

  “It is easy to think too much when you have just been nearly caught. Take a deep breath and take your time.”

  “Of course,” she muttered. He saw her inhale and then she continued to climb the cliff admirably, despite her long skirts. She needed his assistance to crest the windowsill, but to his enormous relief they achieved their return without apparent detection. They both fell onto the floor, breathing heavily, and exchanged exhausted smiles.

  “We won through,” she said, her voice breathy and seductive in a way he was sure she was unaware.

  “I should throttle you,” he chided, still angry that she had disobeyed his orders. However, she looked so beautiful sitting there on his bedchamber floor, her hair dishevelled and her cheeks a rosy hue, that he was sorely tempted to break the rules.

  “You cannot punish me for being concerned about you.”

  “I certainly can if it means you directly disobeyed orders.”

  “Very well,” she conceded and folded her arms over her chest, which, he could not help but note, was still heaving.

  It was the same feeling no matter whether it came post-battle or post-chase. There was some kind of devil’s brew running through your veins which made you want to do things you would otherwise know better than to even consider. Leaning forward, he kissed her the way he had wanted to the other day. The feel of her sweet mouth beneath his was a fuse to his disordered senses and thoughts of gentleness were forgotten. He kissed her with a primal tension he had been holding inside for days. Cradling her head to his, he angled his mouth over hers and kissed her hard. The resistance he had been expecting was not there as she fully joined in the exchange of passion from the beginning. What she lacked in experience, she made up for with zeal, which was not at all helpful in reminding him to stop. It was only when her hand strayed to his neckcloth that he was able to think coherently enough to pull back.

  “Forgive me. I should know better,” he said, running his hand through his hair.

  “Forgive yourself. I, for one, feel much better now.”

  “I beg your pardon?” he asked as she rose to her feet.

  “At first, I was feeling strange, as though something inside me was about to explode. Since you... kissed me... I feel quite normal again.” She smoothed down her skirts and walked calmly to the door, where she cast him one almost apologetic smile before looking to see if the hallway was clear and then slipping away.

  He continued to stare at the door long after she had left. He did not think he would ever feel normal again.

  Amelia hoped she had appeared indifferent as she left Captain Elliot’s room. She had completely forgotten where she was and what she was doing. Once she had gathered her wandering wits, she had had to leave before she became a drivelling fool. Her legs had felt like jelly as she tottered to her bedchamber, and in colour, her cheeks must have been the brightest shade of red. They still burned as though she had been seated too close to a roaring fire. She would never be remotely close to normal again. No doubt Captain Elliot experienced kisses like that often, and she did not want him to know how much it had affected her.

  A knock sounded on the door and Amelia jumped. “Silly girl!” she muttered under her breath. “Enter.”

  “Good morning, sister,” Meg said in greeting as she came in and closed the door behind her. She looked pale and somewhat ill, and put a hand to her mouth when she sat down in a chair by the window.

  “How are you feeling?” Amelia asked.

  “It would be better if I knew where you were this morning.”

  Amelia debated telling an untruth, but this was her sister.

  “Luke saw you creep out of your bedchamber when he was going to fetch me some ginger tea—it was early and we did not wish to disturb the servants. He saw you enter Captain Elliot’s room.”

  Amelia swallowed hard. She thought she had been so careful! “It is true. However, it is not what you think.”

  Meg raised a single brow and narrowed her gaze at her.

  “We were exploring a cave in the side of a cliff. I swear it!”

  “Then why do you look so guilty and your lips so swollen? I think you have been thoroughly kissed, Amelia! Luke will be speaking to Captain Elliot about this,” she said fiercely.

  “No!” Amelia objected. “Please assure him nothing untoward has happened. I do not need any interference from Luke. It was nothing.”

  Meg sighed and leaned back into the chair in a slouch at variance with her usual correct posture.

  “I do not like this affair one little bit, Amelia. I do not know why I agreed to this charade.”

  “It is all rather peculiar,” Amelia agreed.

  “Well, we are here for the nonce and must make the best of it. We must complete our business, the sooner to return home.”

  Amelia felt a strange sensation inside at the thought of returning to England. For some reason, she was not certain it sat well with her.

  “Oh, by the by,” Meg said as she stood to go. “Wellington is coming for a visit. He is expected this afternoon. Do you know what that is about?”

  “I could not venture to say,” Amelia answered. She did not think Tobin could have reached his Grace yet; perhaps they had missed each other along the way.

  “I suppose it will enliven things rather. Luke is concerned it will stir up more danger. Shall I see you at breakfast?”

  “Yes. I will be down directly.”

  Meg leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “Please be careful, Amelia. I do not wish to see you hurt.” She turned and left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

  “I fear it is too late for that,” Amelia whispered. Thoughtfully, she touched the tips of her fingers to her lips and turned to look at herself in the glass.

  “What am I doing?” She would
have to face Captain Elliot over and over again, and she did not know if she could do it with equanimity. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and tried to steel herself for his indifference when they met again. If she could not show herself to be unperturbed about it, everyone would see through her dissimulation.

  She rang for her maid and while she waited, held a damp cloth from the wash-basin over her lips.

  Her maid helped her to dress in a simple white frock, despite her aunt’s predilection for the colour, and styled her hair simply, for she was feeling very subdued.

  “What has you in the doldrums, milady?” her maid asked with concern.

  “Nothing of any moment, Alice. I will be quite myself after a cup of coffee,” she replied in an attempt to tease.

  “I am right sorry, my lady. I should have brought you a cup. I will fetch one at once,” the woman said, fretting at her lapse.

  “No, no. I am not upset with you. I am on my way to breakfast now.”

  The maid bobbed a curtsy and went about her other tasks.

  Amelia went down to the breakfast parlour and was relieved when Captain Elliot was absent. The remainder of the party was there, however, and the gentlemen stood when she entered.

  After she was seated, a footman placed a cup of coffee before her and for some minutes she concentrated on its healing powers while the conversation continued around her.

  “Since we will be having more company, I have decided we should plan some entertainment. Amelia, do you have any suggestions for amusement?” her aunt asked.

  “Wellington enjoys dancing,” she proposed.

  “He also enjoys a good hunt,” Waverley added.

  “Oui, someone mentioned his prime hunter is in the stable.”

  “I doubt very much that he expects grand entertainment, Madame,” Meg added. “Perhaps he only wishes for a reprieve from Paris and good company.”

  “Of course. What else could he hope to find here? Where is our good captain this morning?”

  “I am here, Madame,” that gentleman answered as he walked into the room and bent over her hand. “I beg your pardon, I overslept... perhaps as a result of too much of your fine brandy.”

  “You may do as you please here, Captain Elliot. We were just discussing the impending arrival of your commander.”

  “Wellington? He is coming here?” Captain Elliot looked astonished.

  “It surprises you as well,” she remarked.

  “I am no longer his troop, if you recall, Madame. I am no longer privy to his movements. He is jolly good company, though.”

  “We thought to arrange an evening of dancing, and perhaps some hunting.”

  “Combined with your excellent food and drink, that will be more than sufficient to please him,” Captain Elliot reassured her.

  “I am glad to hear it. Nieces, I thought to go into the village today, if you would care to accompany me? It is quaint and charming, and also happens to boast a fine collection of silks.”

  “That sounds delightful,” Meg said, while Amelia smiled.

  “Excellent, I will be waiting with the carriage at noon, non?”

  Her aunt seemed to have lost some of her composure. What could that be about? Did the thought of Wellington visiting scare her?

  Lisette hurried from the room. Had anyone else noticed the change? Amelia’s eye caught Captain Elliot’s and the look on his face confirmed she had not imagined it.

  “Excuse me.” Amelia set down her cup and hastened after her aunt.

  She had moved quickly, Amelia thought as she followed. When she reached her aunt’s apartments, the door was already shut. Amelia knocked softly but did not hear an answer. Perhaps her aunt had gone elsewhere. Putting her ear to the door and listening carefully, she heard the unmistakeable sound of muffled sobbing. Turning the handle quietly, she peeped into the room. Her normally imperturbable aunt was sitting on a bench next to her bed; she had her head in her hands and she was crying. Amelia ran over at once and put her arms around her.

  It only caused her to sob harder.

  Amelia remembered her mother doing this very thing. She would hold her tightly until the tears had run dry, and say the best medicine was having a good cry. Amelia therefore sat and held her aunt until she composed herself.

  “Oh, dear. I had not intended for you to see me in such straits,” she said, sitting up and dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

  “Mama used to hold me like that when I needed to cry.”

  Her aunt smiled weakly. “She used to do the same for me.”

  “Is there something you wish to talk about?” Amelia asked gently.

  “Non. It is silly, really. My emotions are simply shaken.”

  “Is this our fault?” Amelia asked. “We can leave you. Or is it because the Duke of Wellington is coming?”

  “Non, non!” She shook her head violently. “Wellington and I are old acquaintances, despite our differing loyalties, and your presence has been a gift I will cherish. This has nothing to do with you. Lannes and I had a disagreement.”

  “Perhaps when his temper cools he will be more reasonable.”

  Her aunt raised her hand and caressed the side of Amelia’s face lovingly. “If it were only that simple, my dear. Things will work out as they should. Now, enough of my troubles. What of your beau? I fear I have neglected you dreadfully, and I only hope to make up for it.”

  “Captain Elliot has been all that is attentive,” Amelia reassured her.

  “Perhaps Wellington’s visit will have at least one good outcome,” she said. “We will be unable to hide away in our chambers any longer.”

  “That is very true. I will leave you to your solace, Aunt. I apologize for intruding but I am not sorry if I gave you a measure of comfort.”

  “You did, mon cher.”

  Amelia wandered back to her apartments, trying desperately to reconcile this aunt with the one who organized armies and plotted wars. Was it possible for such disparity in the same person?

  Chapter 13

  While the ladies went on an excursion to the village, Philip set out to greet Wellington before he entered the fortress. He rode alongside the ladies’ equipage as far as the village and excused himself on the pretence of surveying the area. There was no telling when Wellington would arrive, but Philip stopped at the fork in the road and dismounted by the stream where he had met Tobin only a couple of weeks ago. How long ago that seemed.

  Fortunately, he did not have much above an hour to wait. As he saw the group of horses and riders approaching, he recognized Old Hookey’s hat and distinctive chestnut horse, and he stepped out into the road to intercept them.

  There were a few people accompanying the Duke, as would be expected, but Tobin was also among the entourage, which took Philip by surprise.

  “Your Grace,” Philip said in greeting. “May I speak with you before you proceed?” He turned to Tobin. “Lieutenant O’Neill, you made excellent time if you have already been to Paris and back.”

  “We were fortunate enough to meet along the way.” interposed Wellington, swinging himself to the ground and handing his reins to an aide. “I was travelling to Calais when I decided to detour here, based on the news we had received. Have you discovered anything else in O’Neill’s absence?”

  “Indeed, we have, sir. Lady Amelia and I found a hidden cave which is being used as a war room.”

  “Excellent work, Elliot,” Wellington said approvingly. They walked a few feet away from the escort, which followed the Field Marshal’s gestured command by also dismounting to stretch their legs and rest their horses.

  “Everything was detailed, sir—maps, routes, ships, stores needed—everything except for the date they intend to strike. However, I expect they plan to act quickly, since it appears she is making preparations for a journey.”

  “If she does intend to leave soon and return immediately to France, that only leaves us a few weeks to prepare. I intend to pass the information onto the Foreign Office immediately. It is a dashed n
uisance that so many of our good men are in America. This is not going to go down well with Parliament. It will take some persuading to get the help we need.”

  “It does not bode well, that is for certain. They are prepared and plan to take us off our guard.”

  “Yes, we must come up with a way to stop them, Elliot.”

  “How long do you intend to stay here, if I may be so bold?”

  “Only one night, now. I must deliver this news myself. First, we must discover what we can and then we need to get word to King Louis and our allies.”

  “What else would you like me to do, sir?” Philip asked.

  Wellington stroked Copenhagen’s nose as he thought. “How much do you think La Glacier suspects?”

  “Most of it, I am afraid. She has been toying with us from the start.”

  “She is confident enough in her plans, then, that she does not fear our retribution. It has ever been the same with Napoleon…and now her.”

  “I do not believe she knows we have discovered her secret room.”

  “You have found out what we had need of for the present. We should anticipate an imminent attempt to help Napoleon escape. There is little we can do about it. Many on the island are loyal to him and will look the other way. Hopefully the navy will deal with him, but we must be prepared, come what may. I may try to talk some sense into Madame.”

  “You do not think her too far committed to the cause?” Philip asked with astonishment.

  “It never hurts to try.”

  They remounted their horses and Philip led the company to the gate of the fortress. The ladies were returning in the carriage at the same time, and they waved before guiding Wellington’s party up the path to the house.

  “Welcome to my home, Monsieur le Duc,” La Glacier said in greeting. She had adopted her cold demeanour once again. Was it unhappiness, or was there something else on her mind when she was hosting the enemy?

  Philip observed her interchanges with Wellington very closely. She still seemed disturbed but was clearly trying hard to remain aloof.

 

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