by Griff Hosker
Politeness dictated that I had to try one. They were spicy but I had served in Egypt. I had had hotter. “They are delicious. Your servants, they are all from your husband’s estates?”
She gave a slight frown and then smiled, “Yes, why do you ask?”
“Your doorman speaks French.”
She nodded, “Not a surprise. We lived close to Pondicherry. That was a French colony until recently. I speak French myself.”
“Ah, I just wondered.”
“You are an interesting man, Robbie. Why are you still single?” I almost spat out the tea I had just swallowed. She laughed and took my cup from me. She placed it on the trolley and said, “Robbie, forgive me. You are unused to someone, especially a woman, who speaks her mind. I know that women are supposed to wait upon gentlemen. That was how I was until recently.” She took my hand in hers. She leaned toward me. Her perfume was intoxicating and her hands were soft. “I had a dull and boring life because I allowed a man to choose me. When my husband died, I swore that I would take my life back. I would be in control and I would make my own decisions.”
Suddenly, she cupped my chin and pulled my mouth towards hers. She kissed me. Putting her other hand behind my head she pulled me down so that I was lying on the chaise-longue. Her tongue darted out into my mouth. I could not help myself I found myself becoming aroused. She stroked her long fingers down my cheek. Her nails left a mark. She moved her mouth around to my ear, she nibbled my lobe and said, huskily, “My body is yours, Robbie. Take me.”
As much as I wanted to this was all too hasty. I put my arm around her back and in one deft move lifted her so that she was on my lap supported by my arm. I leaned forward and kissed her, briefly. I had to take charge, “Elizabeth, nothing would give me greater pleasure but I cannot sully your name. My sergeant waits outside. What will people say? This is England.”
She laughed, “And your Duke of York is about to lose his post because of a mistress. Do not worry about my name. It is my name and I do not need to worry about what gossiping women think. I told you, Robbie, I am my own woman.” She pulled my head down and kissed me harder than before. Her teeth fastened on to my bottom lip and nipped. Pulling away she stood, “However, I hear what you are saying. Would you feel happier if you returned when it is dark and there are no prying eyes?”
I nodded, “I think so.”
She smiled coquettishly, “And I can anticipate the pleasure which is to come. I am ready for you now. I burn with desire but this will just add to the fire. She threw her arms around my neck and gave one last kiss. She pressed herself into my body. As she broke away, she laughed, “And I can tell that you are ready for me too. Tonight, my love, I will take you to a world you can only dream about.”
Chapter 4
I waited until we were back in our rooms before I spoke with Sharp. He shook his head, “I wouldn’t go back, sir. This does not sound right.
“I know but I think there is more to this woman than just someone who gets me into her bed. She mentioned the Duke of York and his mistress. I think that is a slip she made. She seems to know a great deal about current affairs for someone recently arrived in England. Her servants speak French. I don’t think she came from British India. I think she is French. She asked to speak with Lord Castlereagh. I think she is a spy.”
“That is a huge leap, sir. How do you come to that conclusion?”
“The furniture for one thing. It was not English and it did not look Indian. Indian furniture is made from different wood. I grew up in France, Alan. I know what French furniture looks like. Everything, from the trolley to the chaise-longue, looked French.”
“Then tell Colonel Selkirk or Sir Arthur.”
“As you said, Sharp, this is a huge leap. I need more evidence. I will go back tonight. You and Jenkins can try to get information about the servants. You can speak French. If they converse in French then they might let something slip. Change into civilian clothes and go to the tradesman’s entrance. Try to get work. I will be with the widow and I am certain that her bodyguard will be close by. They won’t recognise you.”
Sharp seemed mollified by my answer. “Right sir. I will go and see Jenkins.”
I had some civilian clothes with me. I often used civilian dress when I operated in enemy territory. This felt like enemy territory. It meant I would not be able to use my sword and so I put a dagger in each of my boots. I did not think I would need a weapon but it paid to be careful.
While I waited, I studied the maps of the Peninsula. By the time we left, I would not need them for they would be in my head. I guessed that we would be landing in Lisbon. There was still a garrison there. That meant we had three choices, south to Spain or east, across the mountains to Spain. As the Portuguese were the ones we had abandoned, I guessed it would be the third option, north to Oporto and the Douro. The French could just squat there and we would not be able to advance. I remembered it from the retreat.
Sharp returned a few hours later. “Rafe has begun to scout out the servants, sir. He seems quite excited. He reckons the servants don’t go in the taverns around here but they do shop at Carnaby Market. He is going to follow them around there.”
“He doesn’t speak French.”
“He says he doesn’t need to. They will have to speak English to get what they need and he knows the stallholders. They are a good source of intelligence.”
Satisfied the two of us pored over the maps together. I pointed out where there might be possibilities and Sharp did his best to find fault. It was a good system. I found myself becoming quite excited as I prepared for the evening. I would have been lying to myself if I didn’t say I relished the thought of a liaison with the beautiful Mrs Turner. However, I was no fool. If she was a French spy then she was using me. It made sense. She had been at the ball and knew that I was one of Sir Arthur’s aides. I was an easier target than the more senior officers. She would try to get information from me about the coming campaign. When she made her move, I would have evidence and I would summon Colonel Selkirk. The only thing which prevented me from doing so was the thought that I might be wrong and she was just an amorous woman looking for some excitement after a dull marriage. I did not wish to look the fool.
I went alone for Sharp and Jenkins would be at the rear of the house. I felt as I had when I had been acting as a spy for Colonel Selkirk. London seemed like a foreign land. I walked warily and nervously. The turbaned bodyguard opened the door and he took my cloak. I noticed that I had seen no women in the house. I assumed there must be some and I wondered if they were Indian too. This time Elizabeth Turner had not bothered to disguise her intentions. She was dressed in a silk dressing gown and beneath it, she wore a silk nightdress. She giggled coquettishly, “I thought it would be quicker to remove these items.” She waved an imperious hand at her servant. “Go. You are done with for the night.” I realised that might upset my plans. He would recognise Sharp. I had no time for thought as she reached up and, grabbing my cravat, pulled me down upon her. She kissed me and I could taste rich kir royale upon her lips. The open champagne bottle had a silver spoon in the neck. Her kiss was long and passionate. Once more I found myself becoming aroused. I fought against it.
She pushed me away and shook her head, “You are not yet ready. Half of the pleasure of the act is the anticipation!” She stood and poured me a glass of champagne. I noticed that she did not top her own up. She handed it to me, “So, Robbie,” she rolled my name around her mouth as though savouring it. She sipped some more of the kir coloured drink. She had, I noticed, the eyes of a vixen. Her rouged lips and cheeks, added to the red of the kir made it look as though she had just savaged an animal. She ran a long fingernail down the back of my hand, “You are going to Portugal soon?”
Now I had it. This was the evidence I needed. I decided to play her and feign stupidity, “Yes, Elizabeth. I fear our liaison will be brief.”
She laughed, “It will be brief but memorable. You sail in two weeks?”
That w
as another mistake. If she was English, she would have said a fortnight. Her English was impeccable but the idioms we used were not embedded in her conversation. “Something like that.”
“And you enjoy riding ahead of the army? You like to be alone?”
Another mistake. That I was a cavalry officer going to Portugal and Spain was one thing but to actually know my role was something different. “No man likes to be alone, my lady, but we do what we do for our country.”
She nodded, “I can understand that. There is nothing more important than serving our country and doing all that we can to defeat her enemies.” She sipped some more wine and ran a finger along her lip to wipe up the surplus. She put her finger in my mouth for me to lick off the wine. She giggled and put the finger in her own mouth. “You are good at your job?”
“I believe so. I am still alive.”
She dropped her hand and began to stroke the inside of my thigh. “I can see that. Come,” She stood and lifted me to my feet. She kissed me again. “I am ready and I pray that you are too.”
She took my hand and led me up the opulent curved staircase. There was no sign of anyone else in the house. We could have been alone. She raced up the stairs. She was eager. She dragged me into a bedroom lit by red candles. The room had been perfumed and the bed lay inviting. The sheets looked to be silk. As we entered, she threw off her gown. Her nightdress was cut low to reveal her breasts. The flesh coloured material revealed a perfectly formed body beneath the silk. She kissed me and began to take off my jacket. I fumbled with the fastenings on my shirt. I was becoming bewitched by this enchantress.
Then I remembered the daggers in my boots. I disengaged her and leaned into her ear. I nibbled it. “This will be far quicker if I take off my boots. As far as I know, there is no romantic way to remove boots and breeches.”
She gave a soft sigh, “You may be right.”
As I sat on the bed to remove my boots and breeches, she stood before me and slowly lifted the shift over her head. She did it like a magician revealing a trick and then dropped it. She smiled, “What do you think, Robbie?”
“I think I should have worn shoes!”
She ran to the bed and lay upon it. That allowed me to remove my boots and hide my daggers beneath my jacket. I pulled off my breeches and shirt. That was as far as I got. Elizabeth dragged me on to the bed and completed my undressing. The rest was down to nature. Afterwards, as we lay there, she nibbled my ear and whispered, almost sadly, “Such a waste.”
I turned, “Such a waste? What is a waste?”
She sighed and shook her head, “That you have to leave for Portugal so soon.” She rose and slipped on her gown. “I must go to …” she giggled. “You know.”
She slipped through a door into a room off her bedroom. I guessed it was a bathroom of some sort. I had had just the one glass of champagne and I was alert. I sensed a movement behind me. I rolled and the servant’s sabre sliced down to where my head had been and ruined the silk sheets. In that instant, I knew that she was not just a spy. She had been sent to have me killed! I picked up the shirt and threw it at the man. I was naked and a man did not fight well naked. I ran around the bed as he threw the shirt from his head and lunged at me. He thought I was going for the door and he stepped back. That allowed me to pick up my boots and throw one at him. He thought I was resorting to hurling anything at him. While I wrapped my jacket around my left hand, I picked up the two daggers. I held the longer one in my right hand and the shorter in my left. It was too dimly lit for him to see clearly and he lunged at me again. I blocked the sword with my jacket. The sword was sharp and, ripping through the material, it raked across my hand. The dagger in my right hand ripped up under his ribs. He gave a scream and a shout like a bull elephant. I used my left hand to whip the other dagger across his neck.
As he fell, I smelled perfume. I turned to see Elizabeth, now dressed, with a long stiletto in her hand. She said, “Such a shame!” She lunged at me. I brought my left hand around but I was too slow and she was deceptively quick. I deflected the blade but it just succeeded in stabbing me in the left side. Even as she raised her hand for the mortal strike, I heard feet pounding up the stairs and heard Sharp’s voice, “Major! Major!”
I quickly turned but she stabbed at me again. My reflexes took over and I blocked it with my dagger but the knife sliced across my right hand and the blade fell. The footsteps were closer now and she turned and fled.
Sergeant Sharp stood in the doorway with a pistol and a sword. “Sir!”
I pointed to the door through which my would-be killer had fled, “After her. She is a spy!”
There were other people in the house and I put my breeches back on. I had just pulled on my boots when Sharp came back and shook his head, “Gone sir. There was another set of stairs on the other side. I heard a horse galloping away. She had planned her escape, sir. Here let me look at those wounds.” He nodded to the silk sheets. They were cut and bloodied. “They are ruined, sir.”
I nodded to the dead Indian, “If he had had his way then I would have been in the same condition.”
Sharp knew his business and he bandaged my side and hand. I would need a doctor but we both knew that stopping the bleeding was the most important thing. I was wincing as he tightened the bandage when the door opened and I heard a familiar voice, “Robbie, laddie! You do get in the most amazing scrapes.” It was Colonel Selkirk. “I take it the bitch has gone?”
“You knew about her?”
“That she was a spy?” He nodded. “I had my suspicions but I was hoping to turn her and have her work for us. I suspect that option will now be denied us.” He pointed to the bandage. “There is a doctor in Dover Street.” He took out a card. “Give him this and tell him to charge it to me. Then I will see you tomorrow morning in that tavern on Oxford Street.”
I looked up at him, “You know about that?”
“The Gordon Highlander your man spotted, Angus, he is one of my fellows. I must confess your one-armed rifleman is his equal. I could use him. Now you had better cut along. My chaps and I have some clearing up to do and some searching. Who knows, the Widow Turner might have left something incriminating behind although she is clever and I doubt it.”
The doctor was not happy about being woken but the card from Colonel Selkirk assuaged his irritation. “I thought, when I saw the wounds, that this was the result of some drunken brawl. This card tells me otherwise. You have been lucky, young man. It was a sharp knife and a clean blade. There should be no ill effects. I will have to stitch the two cuts. Would you like something to dull your senses?”
“No, doctor, stitch away.”
He nodded, “A soldier then.”
The doctor was careful and he was good. Even so, my side and the back of my hand ached. The stitches would be removed before I boarded my ship. Once in our room, I had a large glass of brandy.
We had said goodbye to Jenkins and his friends at the door. I had given them money for ale. Sharp explained what had happened and how close I had come to death. “We did as you asked, sir, and went to the tradesman’s entrance for work. The Indian chap was positively unpleasant. We argued for a bit and then we heard a shout and a scream. It didn’t sound like you but it sounded like trouble. When the Indian chap pulled a knife, I smacked him one and we ran in. There were four or five of them. I stuck one with my sword and left Jenkins and the lads to sort the rest out. The house appeared empty.” He grinned, “I guessed you would be upstairs. The door was open and, well, you know the rest. The doctor and the Colonel were right, sir. You were lucky!”
I nodded, “I was stupid too. I knew there was something wrong but I was also flattered that such a beauty would take me to her bed. That was an expensive night. Let us hope we have seen the last of the Black Widow!”
Chapter 5
The next day we met with Colonel Selkirk. We found him to be in a less critical mood when he entered the inn with the Gordon Highlander. The colonel actually smiled! The huge highlander grinne
d at us and then went back outside. Colonel Selkirk nodded as he waved over the innkeeper, “You impressed Angus as did your lads. That is not an easy thing to do.”
The innkeeper approached deferentially and said, “Sir?”
“Ale all round and have you any decent food?”
The man looked at me and I nodded, “The pies are good!”
“Your best pies then.” The innkeeper left. “I may have been a little harsh with you, Matthews. This woman was cunning. We now see the web she spun. I took her for someone who was taking advantage of a dead husband. It seems she had her husband murdered. She is a French lady. Her father was executed in the Revolution and she was brought up as a patriot. She was young and impressionable. Fouché took her under his wing. She is his protégée.” He shook his head, “She is a zealot who, as it happens, has a great appetite for sex. I think that might have saved you. If she had done her job properly then she would have killed you when you were naked and vulnerable. Luckily for you, she is like the Black Widow spider and copulates before murder! A lesson to us all.” The ale arrived. “We can forget her. She is now known. She may have been attempting to kill Lord Castlereagh. It was a lucky escape. She went for you first. It is a harsh reality but your death would not harm the country as much as that of Lord Castlereagh. She failed. We know her face and it is a face and a body which are not easily forgotten, eh Matthews? Did she get any information from you?”
“No sir, although she knew that we were leaving for Portugal.”
He nodded, seemingly satisfied, “Now we can look to Portugal and Spain.” He raised his tankard and drank deeply. “Good ale. I shall have to remember this place. So, you have your maps?” I nodded, “The four of us leave in seven days’ time.”
“Isn’t that earlier than the Duke said, sir?”