Vidal's Honor

by Sherry Gloag

  “Honor?”

  Surely she imagined Phillipe’s voice? They’d left him behind weeks ago. Had the fall caused her to hallucinate? A hand, more gentle than she expected, clasped her arms and brought her to her feet, and arms strong, comforting and familiar wrapped around her.

  “Honor. Are you hurt?”

  Definitely Phillipe’s voice. She allowed herself a few moments within his careful embrace. Took comfort from his body warmth that shortly dispelled the trembling cold that had overtaken her.

  Leaning back, Honor looked into Phillipe’s face. Concern pinched at his cheeks and thinned his lips.

  “What are you doing here?” She shook her head to clear the confusion, still unable to believe her eyes.

  “Why are you here? How did you know where to find us?”

  Her knees buckled and she sank to the ground. So much pain, so many aches racked her she couldn’t identify where they started or finished. Her right arm and shoulder, and her ribs throbbed. Her ankle ached, and her hands wouldn’t hurt as much as they did now if she’d scrubbed them on cook’s cheese grater.

  And the world floated from paste-white to black and back again. Wordlessly she tried to reach out to Phillipe and found her arms to heavy to lift, her head too sore to try and formulate a plea for help.

  Angry voices drifted in and out, but she couldn’t remember whose they were or what they were arguing about.

  * * * *

  The roar of loose rocks gathering speed behind him spun Vidal round in time to see Honor disappearing from view. With a cry he shoved Juan out of his way and sprinted to her help.

  “Stop!”

  Instinctively he reacted to Juan’s command, and realised the sense of it. Like an avalanche, the rocks and stones tumbled down the slope with increasing speed, so far carrying Honor on top of it. It would only take one surge of rocks to swallow her in the maelstrom. Casting about him, Vidal sprung up onto the nearest outcrop of solid land not engulfed in the slide, jumped and slid his way down the firm ground as swiftly as he dared while he kept on eye on Honor’s plummet down the slope.

  As fast as it started the rock-slide came to a shuddering halt. Vidal heaved a sigh of relief, then pulled himself up a few feet away from the man who’d broken Honor’s fall.

  An eerie stillness replaced nature’s roar, and for a second the two men stared at each other. In the next, Vidal fell to his knees beside Honor, his hands swiftly searching for the extent of any damage. The swelling round her eye would restrict her vision for several days, and the cut beneath it travelling to the corner of her mouth bothered him. Blood ran down the side of her face into her hair, loosened from its pins by her fall.

  When Phillipe dropped to the ground beside him, Vidal ignored his anxious enquiry. He did not know the extent of Honor’s injuries, but they were severe, he could tell that much.

  Cheerful birdsong cut through the silence and twanged Vidal’s jangled nerves. How could a bird find something to sing about when his Honor lay in a crumpled heap on the ground?

  “Can’t the woman do anything right?” Juan glared at Honor, then Vidal, before stepping back with an oath when he became aware of Phillipe’s presence.

  “What are you doing here?”

  The fury in Juan’s voice had Vidal’s head snapping round in disbelief before disquiet took over. If Honor had spoken the truth, Juan asked a good question. How had Phillipe discovered their adjusted route, and why had he followed them? He didn’t stop his examination of Honor’s injuries while he waited for the older Spaniard’s response.

  Vidal recognised the terror Dev’s batman displayed. “We have been betrayed.”

  Phillipe cast a glance over his shoulder, then reached out to grasp Juan’s arm.

  “You are wrong.” Juan stepped back, and with a curl of his lip, continued. “You were not betrayed. You were never betrayed. You are the one who deceived the man who called you ‘friend’, the man you served for nearly six years, and for what?”

  “No. You don’t understand—“ Phillipe struggled to his feet and Vidal swore to himself he and Honor were forgotten.

  “I had to do it—”

  Still trying to come to terms with the fact Phillipe had been instrumental in his best friend’s capture and death, Vidal froze at the anguish in Phillipe’s voice.

  “He impregnated my daughter then threatened to shame her in front of all her family and friends if I did not do as he said.”

  Although she hadn’t made a sound, Vidal was aware the instant Honor regained her senses. Knew she’d heard Juan’s accusations and Phillipe’s excuses. Only the slight pressure of her fingers on his and the steady stare from her good eye, and something more in that glance told him he wouldn’t like what Phillipe was about to reveal.

  “Does that include leading him straight to us?” Juan glanced over Phillipe’s shoulder, and it didn’t take Vidal long to see what had caught their guide’s attention. Nor did it surprise him to recognise the newcomer, though he wished it did.

  “It seems nature has almost done what I intended.” The latest arrival upon the scene stepped forward, surveying every member of the group before his glance honed in on Honor, then swept past Vidal to rest on Phillipe. “Because you have saved me a great deal of time and effort, I might even spare your life,” he said in a congenial tone. “It’s more than you deserve, for I’m nearly convinced you have cheated me.

  “Oh!” he added with a sneer. “You need not fear for your daughter’s disgrace any longer. I have dealt with her and—“ he paused, casting another deliberate glance over each member of his audience before refocusing on Phillipe, “—your wife.”

  Pulling a pistol from his pocket he stepped forward and aimed it at the figure on the ground.

  “It is time, dear sister-in-law, for you to join your dearly departed husband.”

  As if in slow motion, Cedric Chiltern, now Lord Beaumont, raised his pistol, aimed, and squeezed the trigger.

  Before any defensive thought reached Vidal’s mind, Phillipe launched himself at Honor’s brother-in-law. The explosion just above his head almost deafened him. Only the thud of Phillipe’s body slumping to the ground galvanised him into action. Using his momentum, Vidal leaped at Cedric and with an upper-cut to the chin knocked him down.

  He landed one blow after another, not stopping until the click of the hammer on a second firearm drew him out of his red-hot fury.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Step away, if you value your life.”

  Vidal looked up at the sound of the refined French accent and thought he’d die of shock before the Frenchman’s bullet hit him.

  “W… what are you doing here?”

  ”Protecting my own, Charles.” Gerviase Dumas twitched his gun and Vidal rose and stepped to his left.

  “That’s yours?” He pointed to the limp form of Cedric Chiltern on the ground. “You must be getting desperate.”

  “It saddens me to agree with you my dear Charles, but one uses what tools, or in this case, people that are available.” With a wry grin and slight nod, the Frenchman released a long and heartfelt sigh. “It is as I suspected. The man is a fool and lacks class.”

  “Why?” Vidal saw the understanding in the other man’s eyes. “You mix with the elite and are welcomed everywhere.”

  “A necessity, I’m sure you’ll agree, Charles. How else can I do my job properly if I do not have the ear of everyone in Whitehall?”

  “In that case, I admit to astonishment that you are forced to use an arrogant fool like Chiltern.”

  “You disappoint me. I’ve always considered your sharpness of mind a major obstacle to my aspirations, for wherever I am accepted, I find you in the centre of the same social circles. Indeed, for just an instant I wondered if you could be turned.

  “But…” Dumas held up his hand with a rueful smile. “No more than a second, I assure you. You are too upright and honourable.” His gaze hardened and shifted to Honor’s brother-in-law. “Unlike him. Greed is a tool mos
t powerful, is it not? Grab hold of a man’s greed, give it a squeeze, make life a little difficult and then, with care, remove the obstacles and show him what he can have in return for a few small favours.”

  With the toe of his well polished boot he poked Chiltern in the ribs and sighed. “It was distressingly easy.

  “For the record—“ Dumas kept his pistol aimed at Vidal’s heart. “I liked your friend, but,” he said, pointing to Phillipe, “but his batman overheard Wellington tell Devlin... I will call him Devlin to save the confusion of which Lord Beaumont I am referring to. As I was saying, Devlin’s batman notified Chiltern he’d had to act immediately. When Wellington commanded your husband to carry a personal dispatch and deliver it to the Admiralty, the die was cast.”

  A groan from one of the fallen men diverted everyone’s attention.

  “Even now, Chiltern cannot carry out orders.” Scorn laced the Frenchman’s voice. “He was instructed to remain in England, but no, he had to come chasing after you.”

  “Why?”

  “Why do you think? He had to make sure that if Devlin’s widow is with child it would never survive long enough to reach England. His weakness, my friend, is his determination to step into his brother’s shoes, and if his sister-in-law carries a child, Chiltern could find himself deprived of a title yet again.”

  All attention riveted on Honor’s shocked face.

  “He turned traitor in order to secure the title for himself?” Her words, little more than a whisper, hung in the silence.

  “Apparently you, too, have misunderstood the depth of your brother-in-law’s ambitions. It wasn’t the title that mattered to him but what the title gave him.”

  “Gave him?” Honor let out a hissing breath of pain when she tried to focus on Dumas.

  “The estate, my lady, he wanted the estate. Once I learned Chiltern’s true ambitions, the rest was almost too simple for words.”

  With the slightest flick of his wrist, the Frenchman summoned half-a-dozen men, locals by the look on Juan’s face, and commanded them to carry Cedric back the way they’d come, before he leaned down and spoke to Honor.

  “Unlike you, ma’am, I will not leave it to the English to deal with him. Be assured that for the rest of your short life he will not trouble you anymore.”

  With a complete disregard for the pistol now pointing at Honor, Vidal stepped forward.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Do not presume too far upon our friendship Charles. I have not yet decided what to do with you. But since you are needed to escort this woman across the Channel, I will spare your life for a while longer.”

  “To the devil with your threats, Dumas, speak plainly. What do you mean about the English dealing with Lady Beaumont?”

  “One of the few things Chiltern accomplished to my satisfaction was to spread rumours of my lady’s role as a double agent. Your fine friends at Whitehall eagerly await her arrival, but are no longer so sure of her integrity.”

  “You bounder, sir. I will meet you for this.”

  “May I remind you Vidal, I hold the pistol and you have—“ pausing, he cast a significant glance around, “—an abundant choice of rocks, but little else.” He stepped back and pointed his weapon at Vidal again.

  “Let me assure you, Chiltern did just enough to stir the embers of mistrust, and I allowed the society to fuel the flames of righteous indignation. I never leave a stone unturned. A word in the ear of a certain Lady Randall—“ The lift of one eyebrow was enough to bring the bitter-tongued society matron to Vidal’s mind. Yes, the woman would make it her mission to spread and fuel any scandal she could about Lady Beaumont.

  ”I have tarried here too long. Enjoy your journey to Irun. In the meantime, I have things to do. If I am not there to meet your arrival, do not leave without me, as I intend to convey you safely across France.” Dumas brushed his hands together and moved back.

  “Why?” Honor stopped his departure. “If, as you say, Cedric has spread false rumours, why would you see us safely across France?”

  “It seems you were not attending to me earlier. Under the circumstances, it is understandable.” He indicated the residue of the rockslide. “Your senses will be all about, so I will spell it out for you.” He bent forward he filled her limited vision. “Why sully myself with your death when your government will offer you to their citizens in a public hanging?”

  Abruptly, he stepped away and raised a hand. “’Till we meet again,” he said, and was gone.

  * * * *

  Before anyone moved, two men appeared leading a mule laden with several sacks, boxes, and a large net full of hay. Wordlessly they handed the reins to Vidal, and left as fast as they’d arrived.

  “Vidal?” The sound of Honor’s voice snapped him out of his astonishment. Why come all this way, allow Cedric to attempt to shoot Honor and then leave without her? He dropped to his knees once more.

  “I’ll follow them.” Juan’s voice distracted him long enough to forbid such foolishness.

  “What can you do on your own against so many armed men?”

  “I said follow them, not attack them.”

  “Makes no difference — they’ll be on the watch for you.”

  Juan transferred his glare from Vidal to Honor. “If she hadn’t fallen none of this would have happened.”

  “That strikes me that as either exceedingly foolish or arrogant. They were close enough behind us for them to shoot us in our sleep.” Vidal indicated Phillipe’s body. “See what can be done for him.”

  “Did you know about Cedric?” Turning his head to follow Juan’s movements gave him time to assess the effect of the double shock Honor had suffered. He still wasn’t sure if he could move her without creating more injury.

  “Stay still,” he commanded before shaking his head. “No, I didn’t know the agent’s identity, but after we talked last night, I began to wonder. Dundas assured me they would arrest him the moment my ship left port. It seems Cedric gave him the slip.”

  A string of curses, followed by the sound of tearing cloth caught Vidal’s attention. He looked up in time to see Juan ripping a strip from the hem of Consuela’s skirt and grinned at her outraged squawk. After a snapped response from Juan, they both crossed to attend to Phillipe where he lay.

  “I’m not sure, but I think Phillipe is still alive.” The knowledge that Devlin’s close friend and batman had betrayed Devlin gutted him. It was, he decided, a good thing he had to attend to Honor, otherwise he might have killed the man himself.

  “Why?” Tears mingled with the blood that still trickled from the gash on her face. “It surprised me when I saw him standing so close to the earl’s tent that morning.”

  “Who?”

  “Phillipe.” Her voice trembled and she drew in several deep breaths. “The earl’s instructions seemed to take forever that morning, and I left our tent with the intention of waiting for Dev nearby. This was his last mission before we returned home. Did you know that?”

  He did. She’d told him but had doubtlessly forgotten, so he remained silent, allowing Honor to carry on at her own pace He removed his jacket, folded it, and tucked it beneath her head. It no longer mattered where Cedric and his band of men were. With Phillipe shot and Honor unable to move due to her injuries and shock, they weren’t going anywhere in the near future. He glanced up at the mountain peak. Unlike the previous one, this would not reveal a magical plateau with a huge calm blue lake that sparkled in the late September sun.

  “We were planning to hold a large party to celebrate our third wedding anniversary.” Her voice broke and she clutched at his arm. With great care Vidal eased her into a sitting position and sighed when she didn’t cry out with pain. He just hoped she hadn’t broken any bones and guessed they’d soon find out when she tried to stand.

  “I’m sure it would have been a splendid party.” For a moment he could almost hear the music in his head. Could hear the laughter of Dev’s friends as they celebrated the anniversary. Instead
—

  No point going there; it would never happen. Right now, Honor sought comfort and so he wrapped his arms around her, allowing himself to wish for the moon.

  “He tried to persuade me not to follow him to Spain.” The anguish in Honor’s voice jolted him back to his surroundings.

  “Now I don’t know whether I was, in part, responsible for his death.”

  Astonishment rendered Vidal speechless for several seconds before he could form a protest. “I don’t know where you got that idea from, but I suggest you dismiss it from your mind immediately.”

  “There was a terrible storm that night and we laughed. And told each other no one would hear us.”

  He didn’t want to know such details, didn’t want to conjure up the image of Honor in Devlin’s arms.

  “I didn’t pay attention at the time, beyond thinking about our departure for England the next evening, but there was an intensity about Dev—”

  “What are you saying?” About to thrust her away from him to look into Honor’s face, Vidal remembered her injuries in time to make the shift himself.

  “I’m not sure but during the weeks after… something kept bothering me. I can’t explain it,” she finished on an exasperated sigh. “There was something different about him that night.” She looked up at him now. “And the next morning when he left me, I’m sure he had a premonition we’d never see each other again.”

  “Are you saying he rode out knowing they were waiting for him?”

  Such an act of stupidity didn’t sound like the Devlin of old.

  “No,” she denied, “that’s not what I’m saying. I remember thinking the meeting with Wellington was almost twice the normal length. I believe he knew of the increased danger of the mission assigned to him that morning.”

  “Do you think Wellington told Devlin about Cedric?”

  For a moment longer Honor clung to his arm, her forehead resting against his shoulder before pulling back. “No,” she said positively. “No, I cannot believe he would have entrusted me to Phillipe if he was aware of the connection between him and Cedric.” She sat up straight and winced with the pain. “Looking back, I’m sure Phillipe knew Cedric was not far behind you when you caught up with us.”