'You must speak to the Duke,' he said.
'I'd prefer to stay here with you, Daniel.'
'He'll wish to see with his own eyes that you are safe and sound so that he can send word to your father to that effect.'
'There's no need for Father to worry about me.'
'I'd say there was every need. You left without warning.'
'I had to, Daniel,' she said. 'If I'd told my parents what I had in mind, they would have forbidden me to leave the house. Dorothy would have done everything in her power to stop me as well.'
'In some senses, they'd have been right to do so.'
'My parents might have been,' she conceded, 'but not my sister. Dorothy would have held me back out of sheer spite.'
'I'm sure that she cares for you, Abigail.'
'She does - when it suits her.'
'Well, I don't want to come between you and your sister. But she would need to have a very cold heart not to worry about you and pray for your safe return.' He crossed to the tent flap and opened it. 'Follow me. It's not far.'
'Shall I see you later on?'
'To be honest, I think it unlikely.'
'Just for a few minutes,' she pleaded.
'We'll see, Abigail,' he said, careful not to commit himself. 'Let me take you to the Duke's quarters. He'll be as thankful as I am that you came to no harm.'
She gave a strained smile and went out after him. On their way through the camp, Daniel exchanged a few niceties with her, ignoring the curious stares they attracted on the way. After introducing her to Marlborough, he left the two of them together and walked briskly towards the area where the baggage wagons had been parked. He soon found Abigail's maid, standing beside a tent as she sorted out items of clothing that needed to be washed.
'May I speak to you for a moment, Emily?' said Daniel.
'Yes, sir,' she replied, flustered by his sudden appearance.
'Your mistress is with His Grace, the Duke of Marlborough. She's been telling me about the adventures you had along the way.'
'Miss Abigail was very brave.'
'I fancy that you showed just as much bravery, Emily.'
'I did what I had to do, Captain Rawson.'
Emily Greene had lost weight during the many weeks they had been in transit. She still had the same homely appearance but her flabby cheeks and plump body had shrunk slightly. The maid had aged visibly as well. Abigail Piper had had a vision of her beloved to beckon her on. Emily had been driven by loyalty to her mistress. It was a loyalty that Daniel took into account. The woman would never volunteer information about Abigail that she felt was confidential. Daniel had to be tactful.
'What was the most enjoyable part of your journey?' he asked.
'Getting here alive, sir,' she replied.
'Yes, you had one or two uncomfortable moments, I hear.'
'They're all in the past now - thanks be to God.'
'Miss Abigail was telling me about an inn you left in the middle of the night. You must have been desperate to do that.'
'We could not stay there, sir.'
'So I gather,' said Daniel, who had not been told the real reason for their abrupt departure and felt it was one of the things that Abigail had deliberately kept from him. 'Miss Abigail told me all about it.'
'She talked about it for days afterwards.'
'That's understandable. It must have been a shock to her.'
'It was more than that, Captain Rawson,' said Emily, believing that he already knew the full details. 'The man had been so nice to us when he let us ride in his wagon. The last thing Miss Abigail expected was that he would come to her room at night and force himself upon her. I got to her just in time.'
'She's eternally grateful, Emily.'
'I couldn't believe what had happened.'
'Is this the man who was travelling with the body of his wife?'
'That's right, sir,' said Emily. 'His name was Otto but I called him a lot of other names that night - God forgive me! Miss Abigail is young and unused to the ways of the world. It frightened her that such people could exist. She said that she'd be too ashamed to tell her parents that she'd been molested like that.'
'I can imagine.'
'She's a devout Christian - and so am I. We know what the Good Book tells us, sir. Only one person ever has the right to such favours.' She smiled shyly. 'Miss Abigail is saving herself for her husband.'
Daniel swallowed hard. As a serving soldier, his duties took him all over Europe and he had never considered marriage because he would be away from a wife for long periods. Marriage would also inhibit his private life and he was not yet ready to sacrifice that at the altar. Abigail, however, after meeting him only three times, had already chosen him as her future husband, revealing the depth of her feeling by embarking on a pursuit of him. Guilt welled up inside him. Always pleased to arouse admiration in a beautiful young woman, he was wounded by the knowledge that, in Abigail's case, infatuation with him had almost led to rape by a drunken stranger.
Striding back to his tent, Daniel had much food for thought.
They followed the Confederate army as it moved south, keeping a few miles to the rear of it. The chances of Charles Catto being spotted by someone he met during his fleeting enlistment in a British regiment were remote but he nevertheless took pains to alter his appearance. Having discarded his uniform, he wore nondescript attire and grew a beard that changed the whole shape of his face. Frédéric Seurel was the same surly and unprepossessing individual as before. Travelling over muddy roads and being soaked by rain day after day had not improved his temper. As they searched for shelter that afternoon, he was gloomier than ever.
'How ever will we get to him again, Charles?' he asked.
'There has to be a way.'
'I think we should forget the whole thing.' 'Then you had better make your will,' said Catto, 'because General Salignac will have you hunted down and killed for failing to obey his orders.'
'I had no orders from him. You were given the assignment.'
'I told him that you would assist me. He wanted to know your name and be assured that you could do as you were told and keep your mouth shut. There's no escape from this, Frédéric.'
'But we've been trailing Captain Rawson for two months.'
'Yes,' said Catto with a reproachful glance, 'and we had the perfect opportunity to kill him until you bungled it.'
Seurel felt unjustly accused. 'How was I to know that someone else would be in that tent? Anyway,' he went on, 'I did show you how quickly I could kill a man and take off his head. When I get close enough to Captain Rawson, I'll have him dead within seconds.'
'Make sure it's him next time.'
They rode on through a copse and came out the other side to see a wayside inn ahead of them. Catto stretched his arm to point.
'That's where we'll spend the night,' he said. 'It's a pity we can't lure the captain there. If we could separate him from the army, we'd have a much better chance of killing him.'
'Why don't we send him an invitation?' asked Seurel, grinning.
'We might just do that - though not in the way you think.'
'You mean we set a trap?'
'I mean exactly that,' Catto told him. 'And there's one advantage to our long journey. I know we've spent many weeks in the saddle but we're getting closer to General Salignac all the time. His orders were to leave Paris and lead his men to Bavaria where he was to join up with the Elector. In other words, he's not all that far in front of us.'
'Are you going to make contact with him?'
'Not until our job is done, Frédéric.'
'We could use more money.'
'We won't get a single franc from the general unless we can prove that Captain Daniel Rawson is dead. And we must make sure that we're the ones who kill him.'
'Must we?' said Seurel.
'Yes - if the captain is shot dead in battle, we will have failed. That's why we must get to him first, Frédéric,' he said. 'So keep that dagger of yours as sharp as a razor
.'
The Duke of Marlborough opened a satchel and took out the letter before handing it to Abigail Piper. They were in his quarters.
'What's this, Your Grace?' she asked.
'It's a letter from your father,' he explained. 'It was enclosed with the last missive he sent to me. Should you ever reach us, he implored me to give it to you and to make sure that you read it.'
Abigail looked uneasy. She could imagine what her father had written and did not want to face any recriminations. There had been several moments during her travels when she had thought wistfully of the comforts of home and she had suffered pangs of remorse about the way she had fled from London without informing her parents where and why she was going. It had not taken Sir Nicholas Piper long to find out that she and Emily had boarded a ship for Holland. From that discovery, it was clear what her motives were.
Marlborough watched her closely. Though he had given her a cordial welcome and treated her with unfailing kindness, he was not pleased to see her in the camp. With a battle in the offing, he did not want to be distracted by the problems of the Piper family. At the same time, he had a duty of care to the daughter of an old friend. Abigail was hesitant. Marlborough provided some encouragement.
'It's your father,' he said gently. 'Read what he has to say.'
'I'll look at it later,' she decided.
'I only have your word for that, Abigail. When I write back to him, I want to be able to assure him that I actually saw open his letter. Go on - what are you afraid of?'
'I don't know, Your Grace.'
'You can't disown your own father, Abigail.'
Mastering her reluctance, she opened the letter and read the looping hand of Sir Nicholas Piper. Her father began by telling her how much he loved her and begged her to return as soon as possible. There was no word of condemnation or even of mild criticism. Instead, he had made a conscious effort to understand what she had done. He did not, however, hide the pain inflicted on the family. Abigail quailed as she learnt that her mother had been so shocked that she had required treatment from her physician. By the end of the letter, Abigail was so affected that she was even prepared to believe her father's assurance that her sister, Dorothy, had sent her love and her best wishes.
'There,' she said, lower lip quivering with emotion, 'you may tell Father that your bore witness to my reading it.'
'And what is your response, Abigail?'
'I will need to study it again in private, Your Grace.'
'As you wish,' said Marlborough, 'though I think I can guess the plea that it contains. In making this astonishing journey, you have more than proved your love and your courage but this is as far as you can go. You must see that.'
'Please don't force me to leave!' she cried.
'I'm not forcing you, Abigail, I'm simply inviting you to travel back to The Hague with more speed and less danger than you met on your way here. I send despatches every day to the States-General. Why don't you and your maid accompany the next messengers?'
'We've only just got here.'
'Then you achieved your objective,' he pointed out. 'You caught up with Captain Rawson and left him in no doubt about your feelings for him. He will have been mightily impressed. When he returns to England, as he will in due course, I'm sure that he will call on you at the earliest possible opportunity.'
'But that could be several months away.'
'The time will pass very quickly.'
'Each day will seem like a week,' she said plaintively. 'You must understand my position, Your Grace. I didn't travel halfway across Europe to be packed off home immediately.'
'You've arrived at an inopportune moment.'
'Emily and I will not be in the way, I swear it.'
'That's not the point at issue, Abigail.'
'Then what is, may I ask?'
Marlborough chose his words carefully. 'We're on the eve of battle,' he explained, 'and that means we shall enter the realm of the unknown. Nobody can predict what will happen. The one certainty is that a large number of our men will lose their lives or receive hideous wounds. No woman should have to look on such sights.'
'That's exactly what Daniel - Captain Rawson - told me but I am more robust than I look. I won't faint at the sight of blood, Your Grace. In any case, the baggage wagons will be well away from any action, surely. We'll be completely safe.'
'It's not your safety that concerns me, Abigail.'
'What else is there?'
'Your pain,' he said, speaking as softly as he could, 'your grief, your sense of being cheated by Fate. To speak more plainly, I think you should leave the camp before we close with the enemy in order to spare yourself what might - and I put it no higher than that - be a tragedy for you. I feel it would be far better for you to receive news of it at home where you'd have family and friends to comfort you.'
'Why should I need comfort?' said Abigail in bewilderment. 'I came here simply to be close to Captain Rawson. That fact gives me all the comfort I require.'
Marlborough was moved by the love in her eyes and the pride in her voice but he did not feel it right to conceal the truth from her. If she was determined to stay, she had to be prepared for disaster.
'Do you know what a Forlorn Hope is?' he said.
'Yes, of course, Your Grace.'
'Then you know how dangerous it is.'
'Captain Rawson told us about a Forlorn Hope that he once led. It was very successful and it earned him a commendation from you. It may have cost lives but it achieved what it set out to do.'
'Unhappily, that is not always the case.'
'It is whenever Captain Rawson is involved,' she asserted. 'I've never met anyone as daring as him.'
'He's a remarkable soldier, I have to agree. But he is a realist, Abigail. He knows that anyone who takes part in a
Forlorn Hope is going to look into the very jaws of death.'
She became anxious. 'Why are you telling me this?'
'We will shortly be attempting to storm a fortified hill near Donauworth,' he said seriously. 'We believe that there may be as many as 13,000 French and Bavarian soldiers defending it. Heavy casualties are therefore expected. The assault will be led by a Forlorn Hope.' He paused for a moment then broke the news to her. 'Captain Rawson has volunteered to be part of it.'
Abigail was rocked by the news. At the very moment when she had finally been reunited with her beloved, he was about to take the most enormous risk on the battlefield. Having journeyed from England with thoughts of marriage to Daniel Rawson, she now feared that she might instead soon be attending his funeral.
CHAPTER NINE
When they reached the inn, a small but well-kept establishment beside the only road in the area, Charles Catto went in alone to make sure that no Confederate soldiers were there. He had a good command of German and learnt from the landlord that the huge army had marched past that morning. It was therefore safe to take a room there. Catto and Frédéric Seurel ate a tasty meal at the inn before setting out to do some reconnaissance. The camp was some distance away and they got within half a mile of it before they dismounted and concealed their horses behind some bushes. They approached on foot. Both having served as soldiers, and often taken part in surprise attacks, they knew how to move with stealth.
Since Catto had already been inside the camp at the earlier site, he was aware of its likely deployment and of the position of its pickets. The landscape favoured them. Though the camp was set on a plain beside a stream, it was surrounded by undulating ground that was generously sprinkled with trees and shrubs. There was thus plenty of cover. Leading the way,
Catto chose to stay on the opposite bank of the stream from the camp. In case they were spotted, he decided, it was wise to have the fast-running waters hampering any pursuit. As they crept furtively on, they eventually found a vantage point.
'What can you see?' asked Seurel.
'Be quiet!'
'Let me have a look, Charles.'
'Wait your turn,' said Catto, lying full lengt
h as he trained his telescope on the camp. 'This is no use to us at all,' he soon added. 'We'll have to move go much farther on.'
'Why is that?'
'All I can see are Dutch uniforms, as dull as the people who wear them. The British contingent must be somewhere ahead.'
'How will we pick out Captain Rawson's regiment?'
'It will have pitched its tents close to its colonel - the Duke of Marlborough. If we're lucky, we may get a sighting of his coach. That will tell us that Rawson is not far away.'
'I never travelled in a coach when I was a soldier,' grumbled Seurel, 'or even on horseback. I had to walk every foot of the way.'
'You were never a commander, Frédéric.'
'I never wanted to be.'
'Neither did I,' said Catto. 'I work best in the shadows. Instead of moving battalions about like pieces on a chessboard, I'd rather do my killing alone on the fringes of a battle.'
'I always liked a bayonet charge,' said Seurel nostalgically. 'I loved that look of despair in a man's eyes when I stabbed him in the stomach and spilt his guts on the ground.'
'There'll be no bayonet charge this time, Frédéric. All we will need is a thrust of a knife or a shot from a pistol. We simply have to contrive a way to get Rawson within range of one or the other.'
'I'll strangle him with my bare hands, if you wish.'
'We have to find him first.'
'See if you can pick out his regiment.'
'I will,' said Catto, moving off. 'Stay low and follow me.'
Daniel Rawson could not deny her. Though he had wanted to discuss with his fellow-officers the battle that loomed ahead, he could not ignore Abigail Piper. In response to her entreaty, he agreed to spend some time with her, feeling that it would be better to do so away from the prying eyes and waspish tongues of the soldiers. After conducting Abigail to the edge of the camp, he walked along the bank of the stream with her. The sky was overcast and the grass still damp from an earlier shower but the place seemed idyllic to her. She was alone with the man she idolised, a military hero resplendent in his uniform.
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