“But had we been seen, it would have been awkward.”
“Certainly not more awkward than the circumstances when we met,” said Elspeth with a slight smile. “You have already compromised me and we agreed that was nothing to worry about.”
“I think that you dismiss yourself too easily, Miss Gordon,” Val said quietly. “You are an attractive woman and I could not help but respond to that the other night. But I should not have, for it would be both unfair and unwise to create expectations in, uh, either of us, that it would ever happen again.”
“What sort of expectations, Lieutenant?” Elspeth asked brashly.
“We have agreed to be friends, Miss Gordon. But there could be no future for any other relationship between us. It was wrong of me to kiss you,” he added.
God, but he sounded stiff and pompous. But what else could he say? That the more he was with her, the more he was drawn to her? That he wanted to lean over and kiss her right now? They had both pulled their horses up and she was looking up at him, her lips parted, her eyes made almost green by the dark green jacket she was wearing.
“Why was it wrong, Lieutenant? After all, I practically asked you to. And you enjoyed the kiss, didn’t you?”
Val groaned. “Of course I did. I didn’t want it to end, damn it. I want to kiss you right now, and I would if Charlie and James weren’t right ahead of us. Does that satisfy you, Miss Gordon? To know that I want you?” he added angrily.
“Not if it makes you so unhappy,” Elspeth told him quietly.
“I am not unhappy, just frustrated. I am not used to wanting a respectable woman,” he said bitterly. “Nothing can come of our kisses, Miss Gordon.”
“And why is that, Lieutenant? Remind me,” Elspeth said tartly.
“You know why.”
“Oh, yes. Because I am the granddaughter of an earl and you are the bastard son of one. Of course, I am not asking you to marry me, Lieutenant. Just to kiss me, since we both find it mutually satisfying,” Elspeth continued with dry humor.
Val laughed. He couldn’t help it. Damn the woman. Here he was, trying to do the honorable thing, and here she was, deflating his heroic effort. And that was why he liked her so much: her sense of humor.
“I can’t help it if you are determined to do the honorable thing, Lieutenant. But I don’t have to pretend to like it,” Elspeth added.
They were both smiling now. “Miss Gordon, whatever you think of yourself, you are an attractive woman and you will, I am sure, meet someone who will be free to woo you with kisses. But since that cannot be me, let us agree again to stay friends. Truly, I think we make very good friends if we can navigate such dangerous waters and end up smiling at one another.”
“Oh, I suppose I shall have to agree with you, Lieutenant Aston, for clearly there is no hope of you ever coming down from your high horse.”
Val was just about to offer her his hand to seal their bargain when Charlie, who had turned around and was riding toward them, gave a loud hallo. Val’s horse shied suddenly and then bucked, tipping him neatly out of the saddle.
“Oh, I say, Val, are you all right?” asked Charlie.
“Only my dignity is hurt, Charlie. It was not the best moment to be thrown,” he added, grinning up at Elspeth.
“On the contrary, Lieutenant,” said Elspeth, smiling back, “it was most appropriate.”
“It is these foot soldiers,” teased Charlie. “Give them a horse and they can barely stay on.”
Val stood up and rubbed his hip. “And your light horsemen wouldn’t last more than an hour of a day’s march, Charlie.”
“Come, Elspeth, we will leave them to their bickering,” said James, who had ridden up in time to hear their interchange.
Val glared at Charlie and when James and Elspeth were out of hearing, said, “Now what was all this about, Charlie?”
“All what?”
“Don’t play innocent with me, Charles,” said Val, sounding so much like their father that Charlie grinned. “And don’t be grinning at me like a monkey. What kind of scheming are you and James up to?”
“It was not a scheme,” Charlie responded indignantly. “You and Miss Gordon are friends, are you not? Why shouldn’t I invite one of your friends on a morning ride?”
“And that was all there was to it?” Val said skeptically.
Charlie gave him a sheepish smile. “Well, both James and I had noticed when the two of you disappeared into the garden on Christmas night. She would make a wonderful wife for you,” Charlie added in a burst of enthusiasm.
“You always did rush in, Charlie—”
“Are you calling me a fool, Val?”
“No, but can’t you see that Miss Gordon and I can be no more than friends?”
“Oh, yes, I can see it very well, Valentine. It is your stubborn, bloody pride. Elspeth Gordon would not have spent a minute alone with you if she wasn’t interested in something more than friendship, so it is not she who is putting up a barrier, is it? It is you and that damn plank you carry around on your shoulder. It is you who runs away when someone offers you acceptance and affection. Look what you did with Father. You would have run away from me too, if I’d let you. Because you consider me and anyone who cares about you a fool, don’t you? For how could anyone love a bastard? Actually, Valentine, the question you should be asking yourself is how could anyone love such an arrogant, muddleheaded idiot!”
Charlie spurred his horse and cantered off without a backward look, leaving Val openmouthed in amazement. Charlie had never criticized him, had never really been angry with him before. Charlie had always loved him and admired him unconditionally.
Charlie was wrong, he told himself stubbornly. He had run from school because he didn’t belong, and from the earl for the same reason. And pride? Why, he had no pride; he only carried the everlasting shame of his birth.
He mounted the bay carefully and held him down to a walk as he rode back to camp. He wanted to dismiss all of Charlie’s charges as foolish, but what if he was even partially right? James had also accused him of having a chip on his shoulder, of looking for insult when there was none. But damn it, why shouldn’t he? There had been plenty of insults offered him over the years. He had learned to wear an armor of pride, for he would never have given his tormentors the satisfaction of knowing that they had hurt him.
Yet there he was, using the word himself. But how, Charlie, could someone who was proud (not that he was admitting it, mind you) also feel that those who loved him were fools? You can’t have it both ways, brother!
But Val was nothing if not honest and as his anger faded away, he thought about Charlie. His younger brother had offered him love almost immediately, an openhearted, unquestioning love. Val had responded to it. How could he not, for he was so starved for affection? He remembered that instant feeling of sympathy when Charlie spoke of losing his mother. That had forged the bond between them.
But admit it, Val, he told himself as he searched his soul. There has always been something in you that has held back from Charlie. You do think him a little foolish for loving you and idealizing you. It was a dark corner of his heart that he was holding a lantern to and he didn’t like what the light revealed. Huddled in that corner was a young boy who had been exiled from Paradise and exposed to the shame of illegitimacy. That boy had felt unlovable; that boy…. But before Val could see his face, before he could feel as he had felt, he shuttered the lantern.
The sun was shining and he was almost back at the encampment. He had only been in that dark corner for a moment, but that had been long enough to know that he didn’t want to go back anytime soon. Going back would mean looking into that boy’s face and feeling his heartbreak and Val was not ready or willing to do that. He wasn’t sure he ever would be.
* * * *
“Charlie did not tell me that we were going to join you and Lieutenant Aston, James. I would not have come if I had known,” Elspeth said as they rode back.
“I suppose I owe you an apology, Elspe
th,” admitted James. “I confess that Charlie and I were playing matchmakers. You and Lieutenant Aston—
“Are good friends, James,” Elspeth said firmly.
“And nothing more?”
“Not according to Lieutenant Aston.”
“And what about you, Elspeth?”
“I am happy to have him as a friend. I admit he is a very attractive man…but then so are you, and that has never gotten in the way of our friendship. Indeed, I have always wondered why.”
“Perhaps it is because I am Maddie’s brother and therefore something like a brother to you,” he replied easily.
“You are probably right,” she agreed with a fond smile. “Whatever it is, James, I am glad of it, for it is good to have an uncomplicated friendship with a man you care for.”
“I cannot agree with you more, Elspeth. Romantic feelings complicate things, don’t they?” he added with pointed humor.
* * * *
Elspeth was happy to find that her father was already up and away and her mother still asleep when she returned to the house. Private Ryan had a bath waiting and after she added a few pitchers of hot water she sank down into the copper tub gratefully and let the heat soak the stiffness out of her muscles.
As she relaxed, she thought back on her conversation with Lieutenant Aston. At first he had been stiff and unbending: They could only be friends, he was sorry for their kiss. She had never felt so embarrassed in her life until he had admitted he wanted to kiss her again, right then and there. She felt herself grow warmer than the hot water warranted as she imagined what a second kiss might have been like. She wanted him as much as he seemed to want her, she realized as she closed her eyes and felt herself dissolve away, until she was all desire.
Despite her heated state, she realized after a few minutes the bathwater was growing cold. What do I want from Valentine Aston? she wondered as she stood up and wrapped some toweling around her. Certainly she wanted another kiss. But was there more? She certainly wanted their friendship. They shared too much to give it up: the danger that had brought them together, the experience of not quite belonging, and a sense of humor. Thank God for that, or their conversation could have led to disaster.
He had said he could not marry her. But might he want to marry her? she wondered as she stared into the small mirror hung on the wall. She wasn’t beautiful. He was more beautiful than she, Elspeth thought, despite the scar running down his jaw and that very noticeable nose. She knew most women would have found Charlie or James more attractive. Perhaps it was the juxtaposition of hard and soft, guardedness and tenderness, strength and vulnerability that drew her.
No other man of her acquaintance had stirred her this way. But she had guarded herself for so long from any dream of love that she was almost afraid to look at her own feelings. What did she want from him besides his kisses and his friendship? She wasn’t at all sure, but was beginning to think that it might be his love.
And wasn’t that a pity? Elspeth told herself. For even if she were to inspire it, which was unlikely, Lieutenant Val Aston was so proud that he would never admit to it.
Chapter 19
Val had given a brief report to Captain Grant when he returned from the mountains, but he was again summoned to Grant’s tent a few days after his morning ride.
“Good day, Lieutenant. I read your report.”
“It wasn’t much of one, sir. Colonel Sanchez has not been able to gather any information about Bonaparte’s plans. But at least we know that for now there are no reinforcements on their way to Santarem. It still appears a stalemate.”
“But a calculated one. Massena is holding out despite his lack of supplies. Someone is feeding him very accurate information about the political situation at home.”
“How is the king’s health?”
“Not improving. We are very close to a Regency being declared. We have to catch this traitor, and fast, Lieutenant. We cannot keep general news from reaching the French, of course, but Massena is receiving information before it is widely known, which tells him it is worthwhile to wait. We had some luck while you were away, however. I captured a French “deserter” on my last ride out. He claimed he was starving and that is why he left.”
“We have had other deserters, sir.”
“Yes, but none with a hollow boot sole, Lieutenant,” said Grant with a satisfied grin.
“Was he carrying anything?”
“No. We searched him thoroughly and once he knew he was well and truly caught, he admitted he was to meet an English ‘milord.’ ” Grant looked at Val with raised eyebrows. “We have narrowed it down to three: Lucas Stanton, George Trowbridge, and James Lambert.”
“Well, we know it can’t be James. George is too stupid. I have always suspected Stanton. The Frog wouldn’t tell you his name?”
“He didn’t have a name or a description. Only a password and a rendezvous.”
“The mail arrived a few days ago,” mused Val.
“Yes, it is likely that our man received news from his contact at home that he was intending to pass on.”
“So we need to determine who received mail.”
“I wish it was as easy as that. All three of them did.”
Val frowned. “I mentioned Mrs. Casey to you before, Captain Grant. She does have easy access to all their tents. It wouldn’t be hard for her to search their belongings for any recent letters.”
“I don’t like to put a woman in danger, Aston.”
“Mags Casey is a tough woman, Captain. And right now it might be good for her to have a sense of purpose other than getting Sergeant Tallman to the altar, sir,” Val replied with a twinkle in his eye.
“All right, Lieutenant, you may employ Mrs. Casey. But she is not to take any unnecessary risks, mind you.”
“Don’t worry, sir, I will tell her in no uncertain terms.”
* * * *
Val found Mags standing in front of her washtub, stirring sheets and looking uncharacteristically gloomy.
“Your bed linens are clean and dry, Lieutenant,” she told him. “But I haven’t had a chance to mend them yet, sir.”
“That is all right, Mrs. Casey. I’ve come to talk about something else. Is there someplace private where we could talk?”
“We can use the tent, sir,” said Mags, putting down the stick she was using to stir the sheets and wiping her hands on her voluminous apron. When they were inside she gestured toward one of the cots. “I’m afraid that is the only seat I can offer you.”
“This is fine, Mrs. Casey. Please sit down.”
She sat herself on the edge of the opposite pallet. “Now, Lieutenant, if this is about Will Tallman…. I would be disturbed to think he would send you to me. But I am not going to end our betrothal and I do want to know when he intends to marry me,” she added in a rush.
“It has nothing to do with Will, Mrs. Casey,” Val reassured her. “It is something far more important. Captain Grant and I have a request to make of you. But I want you to know that you are at liberty to refuse if you want.”
Mrs. Casey’s eyes lit up. “You need my help snooping around, do you, Lieutenant? Well, I am right happy to do it for you. Why, who else could do it as well as I?”
“That is what I told Captain Grant. You are in and out of officers’ tents and could easily look through their things. Do you read, Mrs. Casey?” Val asked hesitantly. He suddenly realized that the whole scheme might collapse right then and there.
“I can, Lieutenant,” Mrs. Casey answered proudly. “I have enough reading and figuring to keep my own accounts,” she added, pulling a small tattering book out of her pocket. Thumbing through the pages, she read slowly, “Lieutenant Trowbridge, two shillings.”
“Then you will be perfect,” said Val with a relieved smile. “We need you to read through any letters recently arrived from London. Someone is keeping the French well-informed about the political situation at home, so you would be looking for any information about the king’s health and a possible Regency bil
l.”
“Is the old king gone mad again, sir?”
“He has had another episode. At first it seemed he had recovered, but then he suffered a relapse.”
“Dear me, then his foolish son would be in charge, Lieutenant?”
“Er, the prince would become regent, that is true.”
“I don’t think much of him, sir. There he was, married to that lovely lady, even though she was a Papist. Mr. Casey was a Papist, you know, and they are not all devils, though the ministers would have us believe so.”
“His position demanded he marry royalty, Mrs. Casey—”
“Oh, aye, but I lost all respect for him, Lieutenant. He gave her his hand and his heart and then he abandoned her.”
“I must confess I sympathized with Mrs. Fitzherbert myself, Mrs. Casey,” Val replied honestly. The prince’s behavior, necessary though it was, reminded him too much of the earl’s treatment of his mother. “But unfortunately, he is the eldest son and heir….” Val ran his hand over his face.
“I shouldn’t have said that. Of course we are lucky to have him there to assume the Regency.”
“Now, that is a load of codswollop, Lieutenant. He is a frivolous and foolish man, from what I have heard, spending money on foreign-looking buildings while people are hungry.”
“I didn’t know you were a Republican, Mrs. Casey.”
“I am not one for chopping peoples’ heads off, no matter if they deserve it. But I am a woman of common sense, Lieutenant, and I say you don’t leave your soldiers who fought for you begging in the streets!” Mrs. Casey took a deep breath. “But much as I don’t care for the prince, I would do anything I could to beat Boney.”
“I am sure you would.”
“Now, just who am I to be spying on?” asked Mrs. Casey with a gleam in her eye.
“We have narrowed it down to three suspects: Lords Stanton, Trowbridge, and Wimborne.”
“Never! The marquess is a real gentleman.”
“And a good friend of mine, so I must agree with you. But everyone else has been eliminated for one reason or another.”
Red, Red Rose Page 19