Fortune's Bride

by Roberta Gellis

  Dom Aleixo smiled again. “These are strange and unruly times, Senhora Moreton, but to tell you the truth, I am delighted to be intruded upon. My life is very quiet, perhaps too quiet. My servants pick up rumors in the market, but when I heard an Englishwoman was at my door, I thought I might hear some real news.”

  Esmeralda knew that the Portuguese people as a whole were violently opposed to the French, but that did not hold true for all of the Portuguese nobility. Some of them had thrown in their lot with the invaders. This might be such a man. She smiled sweetly after the briefest hesitation and said, “I will tell you what I know, but I am afraid it will be little more factual than the market rumors. You see, I have not seen my husband since he brought me here.”

  “But the English do intend to stand against the French, do they not?” Dom Aleixo asked.

  “Yes,” Esmeralda replied, without hesitation this time, since she did not see how such information could be of any harm. “I know the general, Sir Arthur Wellesley, intends to drive Junot out of Portugal. He is also convinced that Portugal can be defended against the French once they are driven out, no matter how strong a force they send.”

  “And the men of the army and the officers, do they believe this, too?”

  “The officers, certainly. I have very little contact with the men, but the trooper who brought me a note from my husband this morning said it was ‘great fun to chase the Frenchies’, so they must have done so.”

  The old man nodded, then sighed. “It would have been better if we had driven them out ourselves as we did the Spanish in 1640, but…ah, well, times change, men change. Now, Senhora Moreton, what can I do for you?”

  Esmeralda had been so busy running over in her mind what she could and could not say to Dom Aleixo about military matters that his question caught her quite unprepared, and she stared at him blankly for just a moment before she gasped, “Oh! Oh, I heard that you had retired from a life at sea, and I wondered whether you would have a-a seeing glass. We call it a telescope in English, but I do not know the correct word in Portuguese.”

  “Indeed, I have. I have more than one. But what use have you for a spyglass?”

  Dom Aleixo’s lips twitched as he asked the question. He was an old man, who had lived a long and varied life and had learned much about humanity. He had understood that slight hesitation before Esmeralda said she would tell him anything she knew. In fact, Dom Aleixo was opposed to the invaders of his country, but he had no way to prove that to Esmeralda and did not think it worthwhile trying. Protests would only make her more suspicious.

  However, there was no reason, Dom Aleixo thought, why he should not have a little innocent amusement. From the look on the lady’s face when she said “my husband”, Dom Aleixo had understood that Senhora Moreton was very much in love—well, it had to be so for any gentlewoman to follow the drum. When he added to that the youth of the lady, which indicated that she had not been long married, and her total lack of expression when she mentioned the telescope, he had a pretty fair idea of her purpose. He was curious, however, to hear what excuse she would give.

  A slight color rose in Esmeralda’s cheeks when she heard Dom Aleixo’s question. She was not new to a flatly stated lie and had, over the years, told more than one to her father, but she discovered that it was not so easy to be untruthful to a stranger who had been kind. The fact that Dom Aleixo had asked so few questions about the British army after he had said he was hungry for news indicated that he had sensed her reluctance to give him information. He could easily have taken offense, but he had, instead, considerately abandoned the topic.

  Nonetheless, she did not dare tell the truth. If she did, she was certain he would refuse to lend her the telescope. Perhaps that would be best, but she had the crazy feeling that if she were watching the coming battle, nothing could happen to Robert. And, as soon as she had heard there was a glass available, that feeling had grown even stronger.

  “Birds,” Esmeralda said desperately, her blush growing deeper. “I do not know whether you are aware that the English are…are very fond of birds. We…we like to watch them, to see where they nest, and how they feed their young, and…and such things.”

  “You will not find many nests at this time of the year,” the old man pointed out very gravely, his dark eyes shining with amusement as he wondered what she would now say.

  “No…no, of course not,” Esmeralda admitted, scrabbling about in her mind for scraps of information she had picked up from birdwatchers in India, “but they…they fly about. Their…their patterns of flight are important, and…and they feed. Some eat seeds, and others…er…eat other things.”

  Naturally in a time of emergency one’s mind failed, Esmeralda thought despairingly. All she could think of were the most inappropriate bits of information, like the tales she had heard of birds that picked fleas or some such insect off cattle, and those she herself had watched picking over feces. Those were not items one could relate to an elderly and elegant Portuguese gentleman.

  That “er…eat other things” was too much for Dom Aleixo. His gravity departed, and he began to chuckle. “My dear…oh, I beg your pardon, Senhora Moreton, but you are young enough to be my granddaughter. I am most ungenerous and unkind to tease you. I will not only lend you a glass but show you how to use it, for it is not so simple as just looking through it. And we will say no more about your purpose, but, my child, I must tell you that a seaman’s glass is not at all appropriate for watching birds.”

  By now Esmeralda’s cheeks were flaming red. “I am so sorry,” she murmured. “I did not wish to lie, but I was certain that you would refuse to lend me the glass if I told you my real purpose.”

  He shook his head. “I knew your intention from the beginning, child, as soon as you asked for the glass.” He reached out and pulled the bell cord conveniently near his chair. “I will ask you no questions,” he went on while they waited for the servant to answer the bell, “but I have lived all my life—at those times when I was not at sea, of course—in this part of my country. It seems to me that the only easily defensible area near Caldas are the heights of Columbeira. This, I imagine, is where the battle is most likely to take place. To see them, and not come too close, one could watch from the tower of the Church of San Mahmed. It is not very high, but the land is flat there, except for the hill on which Roliça stands. Also, there is Amiais, a tiny hamlet about one-half league to the west. There is no church, but the village lies on rising ground.”

  As the door opened, he paused and turned his head to order his manservant to bring him the four-draw Dollond glass. The one-legged man looked a little surprised, but he bowed and went out without speaking. Dom Aleixo smiled.

  “It is a powerful instrument,” he said. “You will have to rest it on something if you wish to watch any particular place, for the smallest shaking of your hand will move your view a good distance.”

  Then, while they waited for Sebastiano to bring the telescope so that Dom Aleixo could show Esmeralda how to use it, he explained more fully how to reach the village and tiny hamlet he had named.

  “You are very kind,” Esmeralda said at last. She had been listening in stunned amazement, hardly able to believe her ears, but finally coming to the conclusion that Dom Aleixo’s desire to help her was a quixotic impulse of a bored old man.

  When Dom Aleixo was satisfied that Esmeralda was reasonably proficient in using the telescope, he asked most politely if she would like some refreshment. She had eaten no luncheon because of her fright, but that was only a minor part in her eager acceptance of his offer. Talking to Dom Aleixo would keep her mind occupied and prevent her from thinking about the events of the next day. In the end, she dined with the old man, enjoying their comparison of their memories of Goa and Bombay. It was soothing to see how much pleasure he took in her company.

  When the light started to fail, Esmeralda said she must go, and Dom Aleixo agreed at once, apologizing for having kept her so long. She smiled and shook h
er head. “I wished to stay. I hope I have not imposed on you and tired you with my chatter. You have saved me many hours of useless worry. I do not know what time I will return your glass, but I assure you I will take the greatest care of it while it is in my possession. I do not mean to offend you, but would you like me to leave some token with you to guarantee I will return it? I have only this locket with my mother’s picture, but—”

  Dom Aleixo laughed, interrupting her. “I am sure that is far more precious to you than the glass, however valuable, is to me. No, child. If I had not been sure from the beginning that you would return it, I never would have lent it. The time does not matter,” he added wryly after a short pause. “I will be here.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The army broke camp and marched for Roliça in the early morning of August 17. Still earlier, Esmeralda mounted on Boa Viagem, and Carlos riding Luisa, had left Caldas. They reached the outskirts of Óbidos in time to watch the last units of the reserve march out of camp. Esmeralda hung back, fearing that some officer who knew her might recognize her riding dress even at a distance. When the troops were well clear of the town, Carlos and Esmeralda rode cautiously forward again.

  They reached San Mahmed with only one fright, a belated ammunition wagon that came rolling down the road behind them so that they had to ride off into the scraggly brush and hope they would not be noticed. At the church, which was the most prominent building in the village, Esmeralda dismounted. She went in quietly, carrying Dom Aleixo’s glass while Carlos took Luisa and Boa Viagem to the wine shop, where there was a shed to shelter the asses and mules of the patrons.

  Coming out of the narrow walkway provided for servicing the church bell, Esmeralda gasped and shrank back behind the arch. She felt for a moment as if she were close enough to the army to be seen herself, because she could see the soldiers so clearly. Then she realized that was an illusion. She could see the massed lines of troops because of their bright red coats and the number of men standing close together in the sunlight. She, a lone figure in the shadow of the bell tower, would be invisible.

  Esmeralda could see nothing of the French, and she had a single flash of hope that they had run away. But it was too much to expect that driving away a few pickets would cause panic to sweep through the entire French army. Then Esmeralda realized that the troops were moving. At first, because of the distance and the fact that the units all moved together, she had thought they were standing still. Hastily she pulled the glass from its leather case, extended it as she had been shown, rested it on the ledge of the arch, and applied her eye to the eyepiece. Figures leapt into individuality as the powerful telescope caught them, but they passed out of view almost immediately as they moved forward. What had seemed barely a crawling pace to the naked eye was greatly speeded by the magnification of the lens.

  In a way, it was most disappointing, for the telescope narrowed the scene of action to a few individuals. Esmeralda looked out at the mass of men again, unaided by the glass. She could see three distinct groups, which formed a crescent with the right and left well forward of the center. Nothing seemed to be happening at all, just a very slow progress toward the rising ground. As she swept her eyes from one end of the field to the other she realized that at the rear of the center there was a mounted group. She had not noticed them at first despite the horses because they all wore dark coats and hats, which were not as eye-catching as the red-clad troops.

  A moment’s thought told Esmeralda that the group must be General Wellesley and his staff, and her heart leapt. She might be able to see Robert. She spent about fifteen minutes maneuvering the instrument into the correct position until she was at last able to pick out the group she sought. At first, she was again disappointed because even the powerful telescope did not provide a clear enough image to make out faces. But she had barely absorbed that disappointment before it became irrelevant as, with a shock of joy, she recognized Robert. There was something in the way he carried his body and sat his horse that identified him quite clearly.

  By now, Esmeralda had gained considerable expertise in using the telescope, and she was able to keep Robert in view with little difficulty despite the steady forward movement of his horse. Her mood had been unsettled ever since she had left Dom Aleixo, periodic panics fading into mere anxiety. She had slept very little, as her desire to follow the army did battle with her knowledge of how furious Robert would be if he discovered what she had done.

  It was the thought of continuing in unknowing terror that drove her from her bed before dawn to follow through with the preparations she had made. And now, seeing Robert within the quiet group at the rear of the army, Esmeralda felt a great relief. It was a proof of what Molly had said. Robert was not in the front lines. The staff was not expected to fight.

  At that moment, Carlos came running up the stairs. He cried out in excitement, and Esmeralda lifted her head, rather startled, asking, “What is it?”

  “There!” the boy cried, pointing. “There! See, the battle has begun.”

  Esmeralda’s heart leapt into her throat as her eyes followed the line of Carlos’s arm, but what she saw was not at all frightening. Far to the left just where the ground began to rise, there were intermittent, tiny puffs of smoke. It took another moment before Carlos’s remark connected with the minute man-made clouds in Esmeralda’s mind and she realized that what she was seeing were guns being fired. She hastily reapplied her eye to the telescope, but she did not move it to cover the area in which the firing was taking place. It was the mounted group of staff officers she sought.

  When she found them, relief flooded her again. Clearly Wellesley and his staff were aware of the action. Their heads were turned in that direction and a number of them, including Sir Arthur himself, had spyglasses to their eyes. However, they were still moving slowly at the rear of the central group. No evidence of any excitement was apparent among them, and Esmeralda did not think any member of the staff had left. Robert was certainly there, she picked him out immediately.

  After assuring herself that Robert was in no danger, Esmeralda tried to find the area where the shooting was taking place with the telescope. By the time she was able to locate it, there was little to see. She knew what was happening only because Carlos was jumping up and down, crying out that the French were running away, Esmeralda abandoned the glass and looked out. She saw at once that the puffs of smoke on the higher ground were fewer and were moving backward while those that had come originally from the plain were more frequent and advancing onto the rising ground.

  This condition was maintained for a while longer and then ceased. After repeatedly confirming that Robert was still with Sir Arthur, Esmeralda began to grow bored. From her point of view, the battle had not been very interesting. What was more, after a while the whole force began to move again and it was apparent that they would soon be hidden from her view by the bulk of Roliça hill. Esmeralda bit her lip and began to collapse her glass. She could move west to Amiais, but she had no idea whether she could find a vantage point there or whether any further action, if there were to be any, would be visible to her even with the aid of the telescope.

  Esmeralda was not the only person dissatisfied. Sir Arthur, who had hoped that Delaborde would be sufficiently contemptuous of the British force that he would stand his ground, was even more disappointed than she. The French general, however, was not a fool. As soon as he was assured that the attack was determined and that his position was in danger of being enveloped by the right and left wings of Sir Arthur’s army, he gave the order to abandon the isolated hill and retreat as quickly as possible to the heights behind Columbeira.

  Had Sir Arthur’s army been less raw or had he twice the force, he might have tried to prevent such a move by occupying those heights himself in a night march. As things were, he did not dare permit his army to be divided or permit the French to come between him and a safe line of retreat to the coast. The action at Brilos had showed good spirit, but the light companies were the
best in any regiment, seasoned men trained to act independently. How the regular troops would behave under fire was still questionable, and Sir Arthur had determined to take no chances in this first real action.

  Therefore, when the French retreated, Sir Arthur had little choice. On the one hand, half the morning had been wasted, on the other, nothing had been lost. He sent Captain Williams off to tell General Ferguson to continue along the crest of the hills in a wide flanking movement to the left. Campbell went off to order Colonel Trant to continue his movement along the base of the hills and bring his Portuguese regiments in on the right flank. The center moved in pursuit, Hill’s division heading quickly westward around the isolated high ground, followed by Nightingale’s, which had held the center. General Fane’s went round the other side of the hill along the main road.

  Sir Arthur’s intention had been to hold back the frontal storming of the heights until Ferguson and Trant were positioned to attack simultaneously on the left and right flanks. However, it was soon apparent that the fate of the too-intrepid light companies at Brilos had not made sufficient impression on all his field officers. Everything went smoothly enough at first. Two batteries of guns were established near a windmill on the northern slope of Roliça hill and began to bombard the new French position while the divisions redeployed.

  Unfortunately, Colonel Lake of the Twenty-ninth had misunderstood his orders, thought he saw an opening he could fill with little loss, or simply suffered a rush of mistaken heroism. Long before there was any hope of Trant or Ferguson being anywhere close enough to begin flank attacks, Lake led his regiment up a deep gully just beyond the village of Columbeira. When he heard the crackle of firing begin, Sir Arthur’s lips tightened. He combed the area ahead with his spyglass, but the depth of the ravines and the growth of brush and trees along them obscured the view.

  “Go and see what that is, Moreton,” he said quietly after a few minutes. “If you think the situation can be salvaged, you may request assistance from General Hill.”