Lucy looked down at them with a heart full of regret. When she thought how she had treated Katherine it wrung her heart, even though an affair between Nathan and Katherine had been a reasonable conclusion for her to jump to at the time. She had committed a terrible injustice to one of the people she most loved in the world.
Nathan stood outside, staring at the shadows of the surrounding hills. There were things he had to think about. Not only did the problem of getting Katherine and her child back to Lisbon safely prey on his mind, he had a rendezvous to keep with the leader of the partisans. They were impatient to attack the deserters’ camp and he was grateful they had agreed to wait until he’d got Katherine and her son out. He was concerned for the hostages he’d had to leave behind, but if things went as planned they would all be freed within days and Gameau dead or a prisoner of the British.
Lucy came outside to join him. The glow from the moon caught her in a shaft of light. Nathan turned and surveyed her with faint surprise, as though she were someone he had never seen before. She wore her breeches but had removed her jacket. Her shirt moulded the slender beauty of her upper body with perfection. Her skin glowed in the moonlight and he thought with a complete lack of emotion that she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen—a stranger. The actress, the Lucy Lane he had once known, the fearful young woman who had embarked on this journey to the unknown, had gone. The wariness had gone, too, and the great dark eyes were no longer unsure, but quiet and untroubled. There was a serenity and a glow about her—and something that was almost happiness.
How can she look like that? Nathan thought, with a faint twinge of irritation, as if she were entirely content and there were no problems that mattered. He had tried to assure her that he knew what he was doing and that everything would be all right. But did she have to be so trusting? Had she no imagination? But of course she had, he reminded himself. She was an actress. Using her imagination was her stock in trade. But didn’t the war that was going on around her make her realise that their day-to-day journey was a matter of living from day to day by luck and cunning and the grace of God?
Lucy said, ‘I came to say goodnight, Nathan.’
The incongruity of the matter-of-fact statement in that setting and his dark thoughts suddenly struck him, and he laughed for the first time in days.
Surprised, Lucy stared at him. ‘Nathan? What is it?’
Nathan saw her teeth gleam and knew that she was smiling. ‘Nothing, Lucy. Nothing at all. It’s just that you seem—relaxed, more relaxed than you have since leaving England.’
‘Perhaps that’s because I am. Best of all is the fact of departing, leaving behind that strange and dangerous place which seemed unlikely to free us alive. When I first laid eyes on Claude Gameau, I feared he would not let us go. Now I feel so much better, so much more optimistic.’ She gave him a sideways glance. ‘I’m sorry about what happened to Harry Connors,’ she said quietly. ‘How old was he?’
His expression hardened. ‘He was a sixteen-year-old ensign, a lad who had dreamed of being a soldier and was desperately eager to please his superiors and make his father proud. He was left to guard Gameau. I let Gameau live and he went on to kill Harry.’
‘And you have blamed yourself ever since. I understand now what you meant when you told me Gameau owed you. You let him live.’
Nathan looked down at her and nodded. ‘Which I deeply regret. I swore that one day I would avenge Harry’s death.’
‘Then I can imagine how difficult it must have been for you to ride away from Gameau earlier.’ When he remained silent she turned away. ‘I’ll leave you to your thoughts. Goodnight, Nathan.’
‘Lucy,’ he said softly, ‘I have to thank you.’
‘For what?’
‘Being here—for Katherine.’
She didn’t know what to say. She had embarked on this dangerous journey for him as well as Katherine. Finally, she said, ‘I’m just glad I could be.’
‘How is Katherine?’
‘Sleeping.’ Lucy sighed. ‘I’m worried about her. She isn’t well, I fear. I don’t think she’s had enough to eat—being wounded hasn’t helped her. Could we not rest here a few days to let her regain her strength?’
‘There’s little enough shelter or comfort for her here. It’s not a place I’d choose to linger. I’d like to leave the hills behind. If she’s no better when we reach Santarem we’ll throw ourselves on the mercy of the nuns. I’m sure they’ll let her stay at the convent until she’s well enough to complete the journey to Lisbon.’
‘I must confess that I’ll be glad when we’re out of the mountains.’ She gave him a teasing smile before turning to leave. ‘Goodnight, Nathan. Try to get some sleep. With two women and a child to lead out of these hills, you will need to keep your wits about you.’ She was rewarded when she heard him chuckle softly and told her to sleep well.
* * *
Having purchased some food and filled some of the canteens with milk and some nourishing soup for Charles, they left the village. Beset by a gnawing tension as they rode south, Nathan wished he could have let Katherine rest a little longer. She looked as though she needed it. But there was no help for it; they would have to press on. He looked up at the gathering clouds, cursing softly. If things weren’t bad enough, it looked as though they would have rain to contend with.
* * *
It began mid-morning, dark showers that slanted about them before opening directly above them, then a crash of thunder bellowed across the sky growing darker. The hills were steep, the valleys deep, with several feral goats feeding on the sparse grass, goats on which the mountain wolves fed. As they rode along a high ridge, the going was hard and slow. They rested often to give Katherine respite and to feed Charles. Lucy kept him close to her, shielding him from the rain which fell intermittently, thankful that when he wasn’t sleeping he would look about him with wide-eyed curiosity.
With Lucy and Katherine wearing heavy coats and wide-brimmed leather hats to shield them from the rain, they rode beside a wide stream, its rain-swollen water tumbling down from the mountains, white and deep and ice-cold over its rocky bed. The rain became relentless and the wind blew straight into their faces.
* * *
At dusk, with peals of thunder shaking the rocks and lightning slicing the sky in two and the rain—a deluge fit to make a man build an ark—Nathan led them down from the ridge. He pointed ahead.
‘There!’ he exclaimed.
His voice broke through Lucy’s thoughts and she followed his gaze, turning slightly to stare straight ahead into the yawning mouth of a cave.
Cold and wet and conscious of Katherine’s weakened state, Nathan quickly led them inside and conjured a fire from damp kindling. He then proceeded to brew tea.
‘Making tea is the most essential part of being a soldier,’ he said lightly, when he brought Lucy and Katherine a mug.
This brought a smile to Lucy’s lips. ‘And a good job you’ve made of it,’ she said, warming her hands on the mug and taking a sip of the hot liquid, relieved to be out of the rain at last.
Nathan brought the tired horses into the mouth of the cave and stripped them of their saddles. Loosely tethered to a post, they nibbled at the meagre forage just outside and within their reach. They would need more food before taking up the journey, but for the present they were happy and dry. Lucy laid out the bedrolls. Against Katherine’s shoulder, Charles stirred and gave a fretful cry. He had been docile and sleepy for the past three hours, but now he was awake and needed food.
‘Give me the baby.’ Katherine handed him over. Lucy’s heart was curiously stirred by the little boy. ‘Hush, now, little love. Soon you shall drink your fill, but first we must make camp.’
She saw Katherine settled before turning her attention to tending Charles, who had begun crying and looked very sorry for himself. Katherine had said lit
tle since leaving the deserters’ camp, but her concern for her child was evident in the way she watched him and held him to her when they stopped to rest.
While Katherine slept, Lucy sat on the ground with Charles in her arms.
Watching Lucy, Nathan smiled. It never failed to move him when he saw her with the child. She was so gentle and tender with him.
‘I have no doubt that one day you will make a wonderful mother,’ he murmured, capturing her eyes when she raised them to his.
Sighing wistfully and looking down at Charles, she smiled softly. ‘Maybe. Some day.’
Having spooned some thin soup into his mouth followed by more goat’s milk, he was content at last, his huge eyes staring unblinkingly into her own. He was always so quiet. Perhaps the world had taught him to be that way. She held him tight, savouring every moment. She had thrown herself happily into taking care of Katherine and Charles. Seeing to their needs and their safety gave her a sense of purpose which not even her success as an actress had achieved.
Rocking him gently in her arms, with the last remaining light disappearing from the sky and the glow of the fire sending flickering shadows around the walls of the cave, she looked across at Nathan. He was seated on the hard floor with his back leaning against the rock. His eyes were closed and he appeared to have drifted off to sleep. Lucy studied his face, the form of the man she loved. His face etched with strain and fatigue, the shadow of a beard gave him an unkempt look. But even now there was a clean, open handsomeness to his face. It was a strong face made for laughing, a man with whom she would like to share her love...
With tears pricking the backs of her eyes, she looked down at Charles who was now asleep. Wrapping him in a warm blanket, she gently placed him next to a sleeping Katherine. Getting to her feet, she went out of the cave to answer a call of nature. Thankfully it had stopped raining. Breathing deeply of the cool mountain air, after seeing to her needs and reluctant to go back inside the cave just yet, she walked towards the rushing stream. Standing on the bank, she wrapped her arms about her waist and looked down. The water seethed white below her, bouncing off the rocks and twisting in pools.
Suddenly, sensing she was not alone and feeling the hairs on the back of her neck bristle, she glanced ahead. From the darkness a shadow took form. It moved with the stealth of a wolf.
Uttering a cry of horror as she was about to head for the cave, her foot slipped and she was unable to save herself from tumbling into a whirlpool of water. The stream was scarcely a dozen paces across, but it was deep and the cold water tugged at her legs. The rocks underfoot were slick and uneven. She struggled to stand, but she was swept a few yards downstream.
* * *
When he opened his eyes and immediately saw Lucy missing, Nathan left the cave to look for her, seeing the shape of a wolf slip away into the trees. Hearing her cry, he rushed towards the stream. He saw what he thought was the branch of a tree drifting on the surface. Suddenly an arm flashed in the dim light and he realised it was a person—Lucy. There was a sputtering and thrashing as she struggled for a grip.
His concern and fear for her rampant on his face, quickly he glanced about him. Very shortly she would be moving well beyond his reach and there would be little he could do to save her. She swirled in an eddy and started to roll. Flinging her arm wide, she gave out a weak call before her head went under. The words were lost to him, but the sound of the voice set him to action.
Snatching off his heavy jacket, he ran along the side of the stream until he was ahead of her and splashed into the water. He swam out, fighting the strong current that sought to drag him under as it swept Lucy towards him. Taking a deep breath, he reached out and managed to grasp her arm. He channelled all the strength he could muster into pulling her towards him. His strength was nearly spent and it was all he could do to tug her on to the bank.
Lucy coughed and collapsed to her knees, breathing deeply, a haze in front of her eyes. With an effort she crawled up the bank and got to her feet and looked about her. Then the haze cleared and Nathan was before her. They stood staring at each other for a minute, then Lucy stumbled forwards and as she ran to him she dropped to her knees, aware of her pounding head and thudding heart. He dropped beside her and caught her to him and she felt his arms go about her in a desperate grip.
‘Thank God I reached you in time. I thought I’d lost you,’ he said, his voice catching in his throat.
Holding her head against him, he rocked her as though she were a child. Her hair clung to her head like a cap and he passed his fingers through it, whispering endearments that she did not hear, for she was shaking with terrible, grinding sobs that seemed to wrench her body to pieces. He could feel the heat of those tears on his neck and he held her tighter, straining her against him until at last they stopped. The racking shudders ceased, and presently she lifted her head and looked up into his face.
Lucy’s eyes in the fading light held an odd, beseeching look and Nathan’s arms lifted and pulled her down on to the grass. She felt his hands pulling at her clothes, wrenching her shirt away, and he hid his face between her soft breasts. Her skin was cool from the stream, and smooth and sweet, and he kissed it with an open mouth, moving his cheek and his head against it, holding her closer.
There was neither love nor tenderness in Nathan’s hands or his kisses. They were deeply and desperately physical. A strange frenzy seemed to have seized him. Wordlessly, roughly, he tore off her breeches, his hands searching greedily for the softness of her skin. With his lips close to her face he was murmuring passionate endearments, only stopping to cover her mouth with kisses. With her eyes closed Lucy allowed herself to be carried away, yielding herself to the slow, overwhelming crescendo of passion which surged through her like a tidal wave.
Half-wild with desire, she clung to him, returning kiss for kiss, and she knew that for the moment her cool body meant no more to him than a balm to his pain—a temporary forgetfulness and release from the intolerable strain and his fear that he might have lost her to the stream. But it was enough that she could give him that.
And then as the world seemed to dwindle to just the two of them, the miracle struck like a spark from two beings created for each other, and all the years they had been apart were swept away as though they had never been. Here in the soft wet grass, with the sound of the stream rushing past, there were only Lucy and Nathan—Nathan’s arms and his mouth and his need of her. Lucy gave herself as she never had before and knew a joy which effaced everything.
At long last they lay still. The sky darkened and the stars and the moon appeared above the trees. Far away a wolf howled—maybe the same wolf that had frightened her so much that she had tumbled into the stream—but Nathan slept the sleep of utter mental and physical exhaustion, and Lucy held him in her arms and watched the stars and was not afraid of the rushing stream or the wolves or anything else. They were encapsulated by this moment out of time, a blend of the past and the mystical attraction that still bound them together. She thought of Katherine and Charles sleeping in the cave. They would not know they were temporarily alone.
Nathan’s head was heavy on her breast and the weight of the arm that lay across her and pressed her down on the wet grass seemed to increase. But she did not move except to hold him closer. After a while, knowing they should return to the cave, reluctantly she shifted slowly, sliding her body from beneath him and standing up. Pulling on her breeches and her wet shirt, she gently shook his shoulder.
Lying face down, Nathan slowly came awake. He lay still and after a moment slowly opened his eyes, aware of the wet grass beneath him. Rolling on to his back, he looked up at Lucy. He said after a moment or two, ‘I’m sorry, Lucy.’
His voice did not express sorrow, or anything else —unless it was, perhaps, regret. Lucy’s heart contracted with the familiar ache of pain that she had felt so often when she looked at Nathan. Are you really sorry? she thought. P
lease don’t be, my darling. Anything but that.
She wanted desperately for him to stand up and put his arms about her and to tell him that she loved him, and nothing in all the things that had happened to them mattered more than that. But she knew that she must not do so. He did not want to hear it and he would not understand it.
‘We should go back,’ she said, avoiding his eyes. ‘Katherine might wake and be afraid to find herself alone.’
Her words brought him to his feet. ‘You go. I’ll follow in a moment.’
She stared at him, hurt and resentful. How could he appear so cold, so dispassionate after what they had just done? Her dark green eyes were wide with an effort to hold back tears of angry despair. All that had been beautiful a moment ago now lay in a heap of ashes at her feet.
In a dark corner of the cave she removed her clothes and rubbed herself dry on a blanket before donning fresh clothes and curling up on her bed roll to go to sleep.
Nathan watched her go, finding it hard to come to terms with what had just happened. He had already suffered so much because of her that he could not even bring himself to contemplate the immensity of pain which this new tragedy would inflict upon him. Until now he had managed to convince himself that his memory of the passion that had erupted between them four years ago was faulty, exaggerated. But what he had just experienced surpassed even his imaginings. It surpassed anything he’d ever felt. He stared into the darkness, trying to ignore the way she had felt in his arms.
A slow realisation of what was happening, born on the moment he had taken her in his arms, was moving through him, moving its way from his wounded heart up to his slowly thawing mind. He had become aware that something awe-inspiring had happened to him in that moment it had taken for his heart to acknowledge it. He thanked God Lucy was safe, that he had been in time to save her from being washed away by the stream, but until this assignment was complete and Katherine and her son were delivered into the Newbold family fold, he would not allow himself to consider what the future held for them.
Lucy Lane and the Lieutenant Page 17