by Ann Chaney
“I’ll keep your documents with my own until we are closer to the consulate.” He looked out the window again. “Time to go.”
“You said we needed to have a plan?”
“I have a plan. We’re going to go to the consulate and ride all out for Wellington’s encampment. Unless Arnold shows himself, our only recourse is to outride Arnold to raise the alarm for tighter security for Wellington.”
At the mention of the traitor’s name, Serena’s head jerked upward. “You think he is already here, don’t you? If you are correct, shouldn’t we stay here and watch for him? Better to find him here than ride out into the wilderness.”
“Nothing has changed since London. Our mission is twofold. Find Arnold. If we fail to do so, we must get to Wellington before Arnold does. We can’t trust anyone. Thomas Jones and others tell us that this faceless band of traitors are ensconced in the highest levels of Government. Trust no one.”
The pinkness of her cheeks vanished. Maybe, she finally realized this was no game. People like her died every day chasing people like Arnold.
“Arnold told us himself, he is in this fight for the money not any lofty principle.” Richard glanced at the clock on the mantle. “It’s a little before noon. We best be off. Serena, you stay close behind.”
Each in turn took possession of a valise. Richard led the way down the stairs. He did not tell her but walking through the streets of Lisbon could be as dangerous as standing on the firing line with one of Wellington’s infantry brigades. He would breathe easier when they were safe inside the consulate.
“Do not speak. If someone addresses you, mumble.”
Serena could not stop glaring at the impossible man. “I do not mumble.”
“Yes, you do. Commencing now,” Richard replied as he stepped out into the street. “Fortunately for me, your mumbling spares me from your incessant banter.” He chuckled.
“Nor do I banter,”
“Yes, you do. When you get nervous or afraid,” he insisted.
With a huff for breath, she remained at his back as he led the way down the street. Ordered to silence, she used the time to take in the sights and sounds of the city.
More tavernas and shops lined both sides of the street. Not shops like the fashionable businesses on Bond Street but grocers, butchers and other vendors of necessities for living. The commerce needed for a body to survive. One only had to look at the faces of the people to see the suffering. Children dressed in rags and no shoes ran in and out of the crowd. Men and women stared at her with vacant eyes. Emptiness. These people had no hope.
The city’s evil underbelly preyed on the weak. That evil smothered her. She shifted her bag to her other hand. Richard kept moving, leaving her farther behind. She hurried to catch up with him. It would not do for her to lose sight of him. This city was the last place on earth she wanted to find herself alone.
Richard looked over his shoulder and frowned at her. “Stop woolgathering and keep an eye out. We must assume he has friends here. Not the drawing room variety of that you can be certain. Anyone could be a threat to us.”
“I am walking as fast as I can,” she muttered.
He must have heard her because he did slow down before replying. “We must hurry. Every moment we are on the street we are vulnerable to attack.” He motioned for her to follow him out of the crowd into an alley. He fished the old wallet from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. “I have a letter of introduction for myself, so we should have no problem gaining entrance. We shall present ourselves to the consulate and ask after the General and Arnold. Wellington spends quite a bit of time in Lisbon. I’ll say I’m a friend of Arnold’s. Keep an eye out for any out of place response from the consulate staff or the soldiers. Arnold may have accomplices. Would explain how he traveled so freely back and forth to the front. Worrisome that he a lowly clerk could do so.”
He led the way back into the busy street before she could make a comment. Intent not to be the reason they missed Arnold at the consulate, she heaved a deep breath and walked faster. She focused her gaze on Richard’s back and kept walking until a little boy barreled into her. The impact of the small body rocked her backwards.
She grabbed the boy and looked up to see Richard walking back to her and the child. The boy must have misunderstood her intent because he fought to be free of her hold like a wild animal. Richard pulled her and the child out of the street.
“What happened?” he demanded. She heard the impatience resonating in his voice that only made the boy fight harder.
“I don’t know! I was walking along trying to keep up. Next thing I know this child rams into me. Now, he is acting as if I ran into him!”
Richard kneeled and spoke to the child. At first, the boy would not answer him. Richard produced a gold coin then handed it to the child. Slowly a smile appeared. Richard spoke again. The child mumbled.
The longer Richard and the child conversed the worse the scowl on Richard’s face became. With a quick glance around them, he nudged the boy toward the crowd and stood. The little boy did not give them a backward glance as he disappeared from sight.
Richard kept his gaze on the people walking by them. He motioned for her to follow him and continued down the street.
“What did that boy say?” She hurried to stay close enough to hear his reply. Serena winced at the fear she heard in her voice. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Is it Arnold? Did you see him? What did the boy say?”
“The boy said a pale man gave him money to run into you. He was supposed to cry and ask you for help, but he was afraid. He said you were too scary.” Richard grinned.
Caught off guard, Serena hesitated a moment and the crowd shifted enough to cause her to stumble. Richard grabbed her arm to keep her from falling. She straightened her clothes and looked up to find Arnold staring at her from the far side of the street. She clawed at Richard’s arm.
“Serena, stop hanging on to my arm. You must walk by yourself behind me.”
“Richard, he’s there! Walking. See the lady with the lacy scarf. Arnold is walking beside her!”
Chapter 14
Richard felt a shard of pain shoot through his body as Serena’s frantic shout registered. He craned his neck. A lady with a lacy scarf? All he could see were ladies with lacy scarves. Bloody hell. They were in Lisbon. Every lady wore a lacy scarf when out in public.
Frustration roared to the surface as he scoured the crowd. No sign of Arnold.
“I see him! Stay here!” Without a backward glance, Richard ran after the man.
Fire roared through his body. He ran full out toward the spot where he’d last seen his prey. Arnold, free of the burden of a valise and his lack of concern for the pedestrians he shoved aside, ran faster. People yelled and waved their arms in the air.
Richard running after Arnold did not lessen the panic of the crowd. He kept his eyes on Arnold until the traitor disappeared around a corner. Richard followed him only to find himself standing on a deserted side street.
“Where is he? Did he get away?” Serena panted behind him. “I haven’t run that fast in all my life! I think I am going to expire! Can’t breathe.” Gasp. “Legs feel like pudding.” Gasp. “Wobbly.”
Richard closed his eyes. Serena had no sense at all. She was a menace to him and herself. He wanted to kick himself into next week for not asking to see her documents on The Vigilant. Had he done so, he’d have known about Perceval’s writ. He would’ve used that document to force Captain Fleming to lock her up until he returned. What a fool he was to think he could apprehend Arnold and keep her safe at the same time. He would never forget her face taut with fear when she saw Arnold.
Richard took a moment to take in his surroundings. This street was different. The ebb and flow of the boulevard was missing. Here only the locals walked by frowning at foreigners in their neighborhood.
Serena leaned against the wall of a butcher shop, taking in great gulps of air. “How could he have journeyed here so fast?”
Richard kept his eyes moving from one storefront to another. He turned his attention to Serena. “My best guess is he stowed away on The Vigilant. Probably watched us board. You may have fooled him when you boarded, but he must’ve got a good look at you. He knows you are here.”
Richard grabbed her shoulders and bored his eyes into hers. She had to take this threat more seriously if they were to survive.
“I am going to walk down the street and try to find him. You must stay here. Do not leave this doorway. No matter what. Do you hear? Serena, you must stay right here. You will be able to see me.”
“I can help you—”
“No, you can’t. All you can do is stay here. If you go with me, he can take care of both of us at the same time and be on his way to Wellington. That is what this encounter is all about. This is bigger than you wanting to guard my back. Do you understand?”
He needed to get across the street. There was not time to reason with the chit. She had to agree so he could go.
Serena turned away from him, and his heart skipped a beat until she nodded her agreement. He brushed her forehead with a kiss.
“While I am gone, stay here in the shadows and keep your head down.”
“He’s trying to keep us away from the consulate, isn’t he?
“Yes, he is. He will not win this time. He does not know we have your writ that will get us in regardless of the time of day. I’d rather not use it, but we will if needs must.”
He flattened himself against the butcher shop’s wall, pulled out his knife from the top of his boot, and eased the blade up the sleeve of his jacket before setting off down the street. A lady walked toward him with fear in her eyes. She did not acknowledge him. He walked past each doorway expecting Arnold to appear with pistol in hand. Every second, he braced to feel a bullet rip into his gut. Had he been in Arnold’s situation he’d shoot without hesitation. Until Richard drew his last breath Arnold’s mission would be in jeopardy.
“Ah, Richard?” Serena’s voice shaking with emotion stopped him in his tracks. She was close. Did the chit ever listen to him? He dreaded turning around. He knew what he would see.
He turned around. A man with skin dark from the harsh Portuguese sun and height to rival Richard’s own had Serena with his arm locked around her neck. No weapon in sight. Serena wriggled trying to escape from the man.
“Don’t panic, Serena.” Richard raised his hands for the ruffian to see he was unarmed.
“Who’s panicking? Not me. I mean this beast grabbed me. Dragged me into the street. I didn’t scream. I’ve tried to get away, but I can’t. My feet aren’t even touching the ground. I will not panic, because I know you’ll get me away from this stinking man. Won’t you? Richard?” Serena pulled on the man’s arm around her neck. Nothing happened.
“Yes, love, I will. Remember, that time the squire’s son tried to kiss you?”
She stopped struggling to glare at him. “I really don’t think now is the time to talk about Billy Fitzwilliams.”
“Remember what Thorne and I taught you after that?”
Serena’s frown disappeared. Her face lit up with understanding.
“Good, do you think you can do that now?”
Serena closed her eyes, bit down on her bottom lip and with a grimace shoved her booted foot backwards into the stranger’s groin before bending double. Richard palmed his knife and threw it swift and sure to plunge into the stranger’s heart. The man screamed as his body crumpled to the ground.
“Are you injured?” he asked as he knelt to feel for a pulse. The man was dead. Richard might not be the best shot or swordsman, but he did know how to handle a blade.
“No, feeling rather unsettled by having the brute grab me as he did. You saved my life. I’ve never seen anyone throw a blade so swift and sure as you did.”
“Arnold must be impatient to be rid of us. Wait for me here. I’ll make arrangements for the body to be removed.”
He walked over to the crowd of men standing in front of a taverna. His intent to recruit the taverna owner, a large man wearing a dingy and stained apron to deal with the body. A few words were all that was needed. A handshake passed on a couple of coins for the taverna owner’s trouble.
With that transaction taken care of he could now deal with Serena. The monster had touched her! He had frightened her! He wanted to gut the bastard. To take his time. The only reason he didn’t was there wasn’t time. It was more important to finish off the threat and find Arnold. The stakes were more dire for both of them with each minute that passed.
“I’m fine, my nose will never be the same after breathing in his stench, but I am fine.” She tried to lift her chin and smile. The smile shattered as her chin shook and tears rolled down her cheeks. Richard wanted to pull her in his arms and comfort her but knew the folly of doing so. If the locals saw two men holding each other, there would be a riot. He promised himself that the first moment they were alone he would take her in his arms and hold her.
After a few moments, Serena sniffed. He could see her throat working to stave off her tears. After what seemed like forever, she turned around with only the trail of her tears on her cheeks to show for her ordeal. She bit her lip and glanced behind him.
“He said you won’t win,” she whispered.
“What are you talking about? Who said that?” He lowered his head.
“Arnold was with him. In the beginning.” She took a deep breath and winced. “He told me to tell you that you won’t win. He said to return to the ship and sail to England or the next time he’ll be the one attacking and neither of us will escape him alive.”
“Well, he is wrong. We will stop him from killing Wellington. We will take him into custody and escort him to England where he will stand trial for treason. We will survive.”
Chapter 15
Percy Arnold shoved his way through the crowd. His brawny friend had been paid well to kill Weatherington and the beauteous Lady Serena. With his hunters no longer a threat, he needed to make haste for the consulate. He’d sent word ahead that he would be arriving. His horse and supplies would be ready when he arrived. His prey was within reach by a two-day ride into the Portuguese wilderness.
A quick look over his shoulder confirmed no one was in pursuit any longer. Percy grinned. There was nothing to worry about. He would double back once he was away from Lisbon to make sure Weatherington’s friends were not on his trail. Arnold had learned to exercise caution every step of the way in his exploits. Recklessness and excess confidence had killed many a man.
Serena watched as two men carried away their attacker’s body into an alley. She didn’t care where the men took him as long as it was away from her. A shudder ran through her at the memory of his arm around her neck. She uttered a prayer of thanks for Richard’s quick response in killing the monster.
Richard handed her Thorne’s old hat. She had forgotten all about the scruffy beaver hat, had not realized she was no longer wearing it. She jammed it on her head and fell in step beside Richard when he pulled her closer so they walked side by side.
“Arnold told that man to kill us. Not that I’m surprised. You’ve said nothing about killing Arnold, but I know you’ll do so without blinking. Killing is your trade, isn’t it? The reason you fled England four years ago.” Serena shook her head in disbelief. “I was such an innocent. Do you know I blamed myself for sending you away? Now, I learn I was another puzzle piece you deftly slipped into place. Locked on all sides. A prisoner of my own feelings. At this moment, I hate you.”
Richard never uttered a word or showed the slightest bit of emotion as she spoke which only proved her words were the truth. He continued walking but kept her by his side. Always the protector. After a few minutes she assumed he’d never explain. In other words, nothing had changed in four years. Nothing ever would.
“Arnold thinks we are dead. He’ll let his guard down. Such a belief will cause him to make a mistake. When he does, we will be there. We now have the advantage.” He nodded to t
he building in front of them. “We’re here.”
Richard pointed to a white stone edifice sitting at the end of the street. The building exemplified the power and strength that was her homeland. Serena bit back the urge to make a feminine squeal of joy at the sight of their destination.
Richard continued forward to the Horse Guards sentry post located at the front entrance. She waited at his back while he handed the sergeant of the guard his credentials. Serena drank in the sight of the Union Jack blowing in the breeze on the ramparts of the grandiose building. Their journey from The Vigilant had been only a few hours but felt like a weeklong journey.
The sergeant opened the official leather pouch and scanned the requisite letter all agents of the Crown carried when abroad with its seal of the Foreign Office emblazoned at the bottom. She possessed such a pouch with her authorization to enter Whitehall signed by Moreham. She’d never made use of that document. The seriousness of this business came home with the force of a sledgehammer. The sergeant gave Richard a hard glare before turning his attention to her.
She handed the man Herbert Powell’s travel papers authorizing the young man transportation to the encampment where Sergeant Major Powell was serving with the 14th Infantry. If an agent of the Crown appearing on the consulate steps with a soldier’s son in tow seemed out of the ordinary, the sergeant of the guard did not comment. He waved over another soldier who escorted them into the consulate.
Richard slowed his pace and tugged on her arm. He whispered, “remember, a deep voice and answer in as few words possible should you be engaged in conversation. I’ll handle all else. Shouldn’t have any trouble.” He hesitated for moment. “The consul general is an old school chum. Younger son of an earl. Has spent the last three years moving up the diplomatic ladder. He aspires to a posting in London, so he can marry a lady with a decent dowry. Someone such as yourself.”