by Ann Chaney
If they’d been anywhere else, she’d have taken great pleasure in telling him she knew the gentleman. Had danced with the insufferable oaf many times. Fortunately, the full of himself buffoon would not deem Herbert Powell worthy of his attention.
Their escort handed them off to an officious looking clerk who asked for Richard’s credentials. She waited for the gentleman’s attention to turn to her, but he ignored her.
She followed the two men into an empty office. Serena looked around what looked more like a drawing room than an office. Red velvet draperies with small groups of ruby red and gold satin upholstered chairs were arranged in small groups around the large room. She glimpsed upward at a circular dome painted with the requisite cherubs cavorting in the clouds. Aunt Philly would have scoffed at the predictability of the décor.
She wanted to scream in frustration. They’d endured far too much to spend the afternoon cooling their heels in a drawing room. She could’ve done that at home.
“Good to see you Weatherington. What’s it been? Last winter over Christmas at White’s?”
Smiling effusively, Adam Taylor-Boyd, the fourth Earl of Sheffield’s youngest son, stood behind a massive mahogany desk. The two men shook hands. She’d watched the consulate when they entered the room. For an instant, the man looked shocked. He flicked a glance in her direction before pasting an ever so proper smile on his face.
Seeing the two men facing each other she knew they were nothing alike. Richard wore his sense of honor like a badge while Taylor-Boyd dressed and carried himself with all the pomposity of a far too full of himself dandy. She knew many gentlemen cut from the same cloth as he.
Richard scraped a shallow bow, as did she. “Pudgy, we weren’t at White’s.” His voice laced with censure.
“Ah, yes, I recall I stopped in at Boodles to see who was about. You were with Moreham and your father. My condolences on his passing.”
Richard’s face lost all color. “Thank you, I miss him every day.”
Taylor-Boyd waved a hand toward the two chairs facing his desk. “Well, what can I do for you? I assume you are here on Foreign Office business. Never thought you would be relegated to courier duty.”
Richard ignored his so-called friend’s jab. “You’re dressed for riding. My apologies for any inconvenience we are causing. You should be off for your ride. I’m certain Sergeant Williams will have our horses ready by now. We’ll walk out to the stables with you,” Richard offered.
The consul looked down at his clothes. “Oh, I’m not going riding. I’m dressed thusly, because I’m due at the barracks for an award ceremony. Riding clothes are more in keeping with the soldiers and their uniforms.”
Serena watched the two men. A small tick pulsed in the curve of Richard’s jaw while Pudgy’s fingers tapped a frantic tattoo on the arm of his upholstered chair. His eyes held a mischievous gleam. What was this insufferable scoundrel about?
“We need horses and supplies.” Richard spoke in a clipped voice. “I am on the King’s business. The Home Secretary sent me. Mr. Powell here is the nephew of Sir Perceval’s cook. My orders are to escort the boy to his father, a sergeant major in the 14th Infantry. It is all in his travel documents.”
“Papers? Those bits have been seen at least twice. The soldiers see to the stamps and seals. I care nothing for those.”
Pudgy turned to her. “Mr. Powell, you are indeed fortunate in your traveling companion. Weatherington has been back and forth into the Portuguese wilderness so often, he doesn’t require a guide. I must say I fail to see why anyone would ask to visit the battlefield. If either of you had any smarts about you, you’ll return to Perceval’s ship and sail back to England. Oh well, duty and honor and all that.”
How did the consulate know they’d sailed on The Vigilant? The ramifications that Pudgy was involved with Arnold sent shivers down her backbone.
Pudgy rearranged the papers on his desk, “I suppose you wish to leave at once.”
“Yes, we still have three or four hours of daylight left. My orders are to make all haste for the general’s encampment. Should we have no difficulties along the way, I hope to be there by sunset tomorrow.”
Pudgy rang a small bell on his desk. His clerk immediately opened the door. “Lord Weatherington and his friend require horses and supplies. Also have the steward prepare a tea tray with a brandy bottle and sandwiches.”
The clerk disappeared. Pudgy motioned for them to take a seat. “There’s no reason why we can’t enjoy ourselves while you wait. Never let it be said I send my friends into peril without offering my hospitality first.” Pudgy grinned at Richard.
To her delight, she’d been forgotten. Confident the worst was over, she stepped back and waited for Richard to sit before doing the same. Copying his every move. She did manage the careless sinking into her chair but froze when she almost crossed her ankles over each other! The only maneuver worst would have been if she had clasped her hands in her lap. Serena’s heart raced at the near miss. There was so much to remember all the time. Maybe Pudgy was right. She should return to the ship and escape back to England.
“Weatherington, your timing could not be more ill advised. Guerilla activity has increased over the last month. I’m sure you have a writ from the prime minister himself directing me to provide whatever you require, so I will. I wouldn’t be your friend if I didn’t warn you this journey is a fool’s errand. Especially with a greenling like Powell here tugging on your coattails.”
Serena moved to stand, but Richard held up his hand to keep her from doing so. “As you have already said, I do know the terrain well. Made this journey many times. As for my young friend, he can take care of himself. Your warning should be sent ahead to those who plot to keep us from making our destination.”
Serena bit back a grin. Richard had noted that reference to The Vigilant. Before their eyes, Pudgy lost some of his bravado and looked afraid. It would seem the gentleman had said too much. What a dunderhead to be involved with Arnold’s turncoat activities. Was that why he was in London so frequently?
“You’re still a bloodthirsty sort. Very well, as I said I’ve tried to dissuade you. I’ll notate such in my diary.”
A tap on the door signaled the arrival of the tea tray. Pudgy oversaw the placement of the tray and refreshments on a nearby table. He waved the servants from the room then poured out the tea and handed them teacups and sandwiches. Before she could take a sip of her tea, the man topped off the brew with brandy.
“You look far too young for strong spirits, but I say taking on Weatherington means you deserve this drink more than we do.” The consul threw back his head and laughed.
Richard uttered something about the weather today and Pudgy returned to his seat. She forced her face to remain blank as she tasted her tea. She never cared for the taste of brandy. Why hadn’t she sat near a potted plant where she could toss the foul-tasting liquid when her host wasn’t looking? Nothing for it, she sipped and nibbled while the two men gossiped about mutual acquaintances. She’d never been more anxious to be gone from a place as she was in Pudgy’s drawing room office.
Pudgy’s clerk appeared in the doorway. “The horses and supplies are ready for Lord Weatherington and Mr. Powell.”
“Excellent, perfect timing. We just finished off the last of the sandwiches.”
Richard hesitated and frowned. “Pudgy, have you seen Percy Arnold traveling through lately?”
“Um…no. Haven’t seen the man in several weeks so he is due to make an appearance. Comes over every month or so to meet with Scovell, the Assistant Quartermaster General. Like you, he knows his way out to the encampment.”
Richard and Serena grabbed their bag and followed the clerk. Neither spoke. Another obstacle had been breached. Or had it? Pudgy knew they had sailed on The Vigilant and his chatter to her all but said he knew she was a woman. That last bit about Arnold rang far too true for her comfort. Thomas Jones did say the Society reached up into the upper echelons of the government. Was the fu
ll of himself Pudgy one of those men?
Chapter 16
The sounds of a busy stable yard drowned out Serena’s worries. Men called out to each other as they cared for the horses. An occasional neigh or snort from one of the animals. They followed the clerk into the mews where he led them to a mountain of a man wearing a dusty, but distinctive dark green and black uniform of the 95th Rifles.
“Sergeant Williams, these gentlemen are here for the horses I ordered. See to their needs.” Without introducing them or waiting for the sergeant’s salute or for Richard to thank him, the clerk spun on his heels and left. No doubt to report back to Pudgy.
“Come, your horses are over here. Your supplies are packed on the donkey. Enough rations for three days, pistols and a rifle with powder and shot aplenty and a couple of blankets. Nights are cold as you well know, your lordship. Ever dealt with a donkey before?
Richard chuckled. “Sergeant good to see you again, I thought you’d be back with the Rifles by now. As for my experience with a donkey? Yes, my father bought one of the contrary animals when I was a lad. Said if I could deal with the hardheaded beast, I could deal with any animal. Is the donkey necessary? We can tie our bags on our horses. I’m in a bit of a hurry to make the encampment. Don’t have time to coddle a cantankerous animal.”
“I follow orders. Was told to pack your provisions on a donkey. Will add your bags as well. Won’t be too much weight for the old girl to carry. Be sure to bring her back. I’m rather fond of her.” The crusty old soldier threw back his head and laughed.
“Come over so I can introduce you to her. Her name’s Gertrude. Enjoys being made a fuss over like any woman does. Give her an apple. You’ll find a bag of them in the satchel on top. She shouldn’t slow you down too much.”
Serena followed them to the donkey. Richard rubbed the animal’s head and scratched behind her ears. Gertrude gave him a look that said he’d have to do better than a few scratches to get on her good side.
Serena reached into the bag and pulled out an apple. She stepped between him and the sergeant to give Gertrude the fruit. She never spoke a word.
The sergeant watched her feed the donkey with confusion in his eyes. He ran his gaze from her feet to her head. He opened his mouth to speak. He never said a word, shook his head and muttered so low Richard couldn’t hear what he said.
Serena must’ve heard what the soldier said because she froze as the donkey chomped on the apple. If the man saw through her disguise, a full out set to would ensue in the stable yard.
For once, luck was on their side. A Portuguese man walked up and tightened the ropes on the provisions. The sergeant called out to the man to tie on their traveling bags.
Serena must’ve sensed the sergeant’s interest because for once she did as she was told. Once the valises were secured, Manuel handed Gertrude’s reins to Richard.
“Well, Herbert, shall we be off?”
He laughed at the sound of Serena’s growl. With a quick tug he pulled Gertrude onto the street. He hoped Williams had filled that bag full of apples.
Serena waited until they were out of sight of the consulate before she moved her horse up beside Richard’s mount. “Give me the reins. Your father would never condescend to have a donkey in his stable. My father bought me a donkey when I was seven years old. Adolphus hated you. You never understood how to get him to do what you wanted.”
Richard handed her the reins. “Here. You can deal with the beast with my compliments.”
They made their way out of Lisbon with Richard leading the way. She pulled Thorne’s hat down over her ears and kept her head down as they joined the people leaving the city. It would not do for anyone to discern her gender. They’d come too far to be discovered now.
After about two hours, the road was deserted. She could no longer see Lisbon when she looked over her shoulder. Now all she saw was the dirt track with scrub bushes growing alongside the road.
“How’s Gertrude holding up?” Richard asked.
“I think she is in love with my horse.”
“Your horse is a gelding. If Gertrude has feelings for him, she’s going to be disappointed.”
The sun was moving downward in the westward sky. She ached all over. Though she wouldn’t admit it to Richard, she sorely missed Aunt Philly and Nettie.
No more dreaming of what she couldn’t have. Better to deal with the here and now. “How much longer do you intend for us to ride today?”
“There’s a place not too far ahead. A stream with a grove of trees.”
“Do you think Arnold is near?”
“I don’t know. Thomas Jones did say Arnold’s associates were some of the loftiest titles in Society. I’m afraid Pudgy would be more than tempted by promises of a peerage and wealth in his own right. After dealing with Arnold and Jones, I’m not disposed to trust anyone. There was no need to offer us refreshments. Every other time I sought assistance from the consulate, the guards handled everything. I’d be on my way in mere minutes. Pudgy has been in London more than he has been here in Lisbon. No, something wasn’t right today.
“What you’re saying is we could be walking into a trap.”
“Yes, I am. You, me and Gertrude. If I had doubts, Gertrude being foisted off on us confirmed my worst fears. She’s slowing us down, which if the roles were reversed, I’d have done the same. I wish I’d asked Sergeant Williams about Arnold, but I didn’t want to arouse any suspicions. Had he known our true purpose, he’d have called for his horse and joined us. Not one for following rules our sergeant. Ah, here we are.”
He led the way under the trees. With a few minutes they had Gertrude’s pack unloaded and the horses hobbled by the stream. Serena gave the donkey another apple of exemplary behavior.
“No campfire. The flames would be a beacon announcing our presence. Arnold is no doubt keeping an eye on the road. He doesn’t know if others were with us in Lisbon. He’ll be looking for someone to follow. No fire tonight. No need to make his quest easy.”
With no fire to keep her warm, Serena walked over to the mound of provisions. The two blankets the sergeant added at the last minute covered the packets. She pulled the far too thin woolens off the pile then folded each one over a tree limb.
She found their food provisions in the second packet she searched. All they’d eaten that day had been their breakfast on the ship and tea with Pudgy. Her insides grumbled. She pulled her knife from her boot to cut the cheese and bread she’d found in their provisions packet into wedges. Richard joined her with a flask in his hand.
“Here, Sammie gave this to me before we left the ship. Said you favored the cook’s cider.”
She shook her head and chuckled. “I must be a sad case if a small boy sees to my needs.”
“No, I wouldn’t say that. You’re a caring person who treats everyone you meet with respect. Over the years when you’ve had more than enough reason to give me your back, you never have. You’re a good friend and Sammie knows that.”
“What a lovely thing to say. Thank you. Some say I am far too good to be true.”
“I know better.” He replied as he placed a wedge of cheese on his bread. “Your goodness of spirit comes from your need for a family of your own.”
After a handful of uneasy encounters, Richard had finally acknowledged he understood her better than the members of her family. For a moment, they were back at Pendleton, just the two of them, in one of their hiding places…talking. Why did she have to grow up and fall in love with him? Why hadn’t he felt the same for her? Such a travesty for them both.
She wanted to say something, anything, to keep the harmony between them alive. No, now was not the time to rekindle old affections. She knew better than anyone how much having her with him weighed on Richard. Once they returned home, she’d deal with her feelings for him.
She pulled down one of the blankets from the tree limb, wrapped herself up then laid down on the ground. There was no comfortable position for her despite moving around to work some of the ro
cks out from underneath her. She moved around to work some rocks out from under her. There was no comfortable position for her.
She curled herself into a little ball, trying to make herself as small as possible. Dusk had set in leaving her feeling like she was all alone. Where was Richard?
Somewhere behind her the silence was broken by the snapping of a twig.
“It’s me,” Richard called to her in a whisper.
She sensed his presence rather than saw him. He reached over her head to grab the other blanket. “I’m going to move closer to the road. I’m a light sleeper so I’ll hear anyone approach. Get some sleep we have a long day tomorrow.”
The obstinate man disappeared into the darkness before she could say a word. She tugged the blanket over her shoulders and closed her eyes. It had been a long day. Not at all how she spent her days in London.
One moment she was awake wiggling to move yet another rock from her backside, and what seemed like the next moment awake again with the early morning sun shining in her eyes.
A quick look around confirmed Richard was still sleeping She threw off her blanket and tiptoed away to deal with her needs. After a quick splash to her face and hands with the cold water from the stream, she cut the remaining cheese and bread. A quick inventory of the provisioning bags revealed their future meals would be hardtack. Gertrude might have to share her apples with them before they reached Wellington’s headquarters.
A muffled growl was all the warning she had that Richard was awake. For a man who slept light, he’d not awoken when she’d gone down to the stream or when Gertrude bellowed her unhappiness at not receiving an apple for her breakfast.
“You should have wakened me. We should’ve been in the saddle before the sun rose.”
“Yesterday was a long day for both of us. I, too, overslept. I’ve barely been awake a quarter hour. Here is the last of the bread and cheese. Eat it. Drink some of the cider and I’ll saddle the horses. You can deal with Gertrude.”