He took her hand in his and placed the other on her waist. Her body trembled at the touch. She scarcely knew if her feet would be capable of moving.
Fortunately, he took the choice out of her hands and swept her into the waltz. It was a new dance that Wellington and his officers seemed to favor. It was a beautiful movement, as two bodies moved in perfect harmony, but never before had it affected her senses as it did now. She tried to stop thinking and just flow with this enigma of a man, for he did not seem inclined to speak. That was acceptable to her, for she did not think she was wise when in his company. How could she let him know they were on the same side and should work together? He would not know she had been the one in the room with him. How could he?
The waltz drew to a close and no more words had been spoken, even though their bodies had communicated with a language all their own.
Instead of leading her to her father or next partner, he led her towards the terrace doors. Suddenly, she feared him. Not for threat of assignation; no, he did not harbor an interest in her for something so simple. She thought about resisting, but knew it would be futile and only make a scene. She let him lead her and waited. Once they had passed beyond the light of the ballroom, he pressed her up against the wall and inhaled deeply.
“Roses.”
She should be afraid, but she was not. Boldly, she tilted her head to look up at him.
“Would you care to tell me what devil’s game you are playing, Señorita?”
Chapter Two
Felix was angry. He knew, from the moment Lady Catalina stood before him, that she was the woman from the study, and she was toying with him. She sought an introduction and it would not surprise him if she had arranged to dance with him. But why? He waited for her answer.
“I do not know what you mean, sir. I play no games.”
“No? I could have killed you.”
“Why didn’t you?” She looked boldly up into his face and his body reacted despite his decision to remain unmoved. Small she might be, but she was fierce.
“I do not normally strike unless threatened.”
She held up her hands in a defenseless gesture. “I am no threat.”
“I would like to know exactly what you are. Why were you in the study?”
“Why were you?”
“And you claim that you don’t play games. If you are trying to be a spy, I will speak to your superiors because you will be killed. This is no place for amateurs.”
“I admit I made a mistake. I have never been caught before. What gave me away?”
“The truth?”
“Of course.” She almost spat the words.
“Roses. I could smell your perfume. It was most out of place in a man’s domain.”
“Humph!” she muttered under her breath.
Felix still had his arms against the wall on either side of her, and found himself reluctant to move.
“It seems we have come to an impasse, sir,” she said at last. “And I am certain people will have noticed my absence by now.”
He pushed back from the wall and held out his hand for her to pass. “Cease your attempts at spying, Señorita,” he could not resist saying as she passed.
“I am sorry to disappoint you, sir,” she said sweetly. “You should work with me instead of against me.” She walked away but then said over her shoulder, “Until we meet again.” Turning fully, she proffered an irreverent curtsy.
Felix remained where he was and watched her retreat, cursing himself. What was he to do with her? Who authorized such an atrocity?
He shook his head and went back inside to speak to his fellow officers. Captain Owens was laughing with two Portuguese officers they all knew from Badajoz.
“Someone looks as though his rations have been stolen,” Owens said, looking much amused.
Felix sent him his most fierce glare, which only made Owens laugh more. He himself would do the same were their positions reversed, but it did not make him feel any better about the situation. Lady Catalina was a nuisance and he did not know what to do about her. He suspected no one ever told the little beauty “no” and now she wanted to play at being a spy.
Felix watched as Major Silva bullied some lieutenant into giving up his dance with the lady. He shook his head.
“Was England’s Romeo rejected by Spain’s fair Juliet?”
Felix snorted with disgust. “You would not believe it if I told you.”
“I sense a delectable story,” Owens responded. “Let us go and find Everleigh. We have paid our dues for the night.”
They excused themselves from the Portuguese officers and found Everleigh in the card room. They waited patiently for him to rout his opponent and then they took their leave.
They elected to walk back to Headquarters in the warm spring evening. The city still had a fair amount of life at this late hour, as music and laughter was heard from open windows throughout the streets. The moon had shifted past the midnight hour on its way towards another day.
Owens whistled a merry tune, and to any passersby, they looked like carefree British soldiers on their way home from a night of revelry. They could not be more wrong. They were three of the most dangerous spies Wellington had up his sleeve in defense of the allied army.
“I cannot wait to see what you found,” Everleigh said once they were too far away from the villa’s gates to be overheard. The common man in the streets would not understand English at the low cadence he spoke.
Felix let out a heavy sigh. “My most interesting find is not what you would suspect.”
Both Owens and Everleigh looked at him with a mixture of suspense and curiosity.
“Why do I already know I am not going to like what I hear?” Everleigh asked.
“And I am exceedingly curious about what happened with Lady Catalina on the terrace,” Owens mused.
“I need a drink,” Felix replied, as though he were dealing with an exasperating sibling. Everleigh and Owens were like brothers to him. He dearly loved his family, but he had been glad to escape the suffocating domesticity. At least his sister, Eugenia, had been unapologetically feral during his most recent visit.
They climbed up the steps to their billet, a pleasant house off the High Street in the center of town. They shared it with their immediate superior, Colonel Hill, cousin to the famous General Sir Rowland of the same surname. Hill was waiting for them in the study, a healthy glass of brandy in his hand. He waved them towards the leather chairs surrounding him around a small reading table in the center.
They removed their hats and dress swords, placing them on a side-table near the door. Owens went to the cupboard and poured three glasses of brandy while Felix went to one of the chairs and sat down, stretching out his legs and throwing his head back. He hoped he appeared relaxed, but in actual fact he was anything but. He was strung as tight as a fresh bow and his blood was simmering just beneath the surface, rather like a volcano ready to erupt.
Colonel Hill waited for them all to be seated. He was a plump man with a deceptively kind face and long, thick whiskers, which he was stroking. “What is there to report?”
Owens shook his head. “Nothing from me. I simply had a charming night, dancing with wallflowers and generals’ wives while Knight had all the fun.”
“I cannot wait. Everleigh, anything?”
“Nothing definite, but my instincts tell me to be suspicious of Lieutenant Dion, Mendoza’s aide.”
“The one you were sharping at the table?” Owens asked casually.
Everleigh smiled. “The very one.”
“I need more to go on than your instinct. What made you suspicious?” Colonel Hill asked.
“The questions he asked—he delivered them a fraction too eagerly. as though he wanted the information first.” Everleigh shrugged. “He could just be a toady, trying to win his superior’s favor.”
“He would not be the first.” Colonel Hill snorted and took a long drink before turning his knowing gaze on Felix.
Having regaine
d a measure of calm over his broiling thoughts, Felix had begun to unbutton his jacket in order to retrieve the documents he had taken from the study.
He unfolded them and placed them on the table in front of him. “These were left out in the open, on the desk in the study.”
The colonel thumbed through them with a frown on his face.
“If you look closely, the information is incorrect. It is a fair imitation, with just enough accuracy to be believable,” Felix said.
“I see that,” Hill agreed. “A deliberate decoy, then. But why? It was not authorized.”
“Someone clearly suspected an intruder tonight, but who? And why was I not apprised of this?” He could have walked into a trap if he had been dealing with a professional.
The colonel stood up and began to pace around the room. He did that when he was thinking. Meanwhile, Felix knew he needed to tell him about the other intruder in the room, but he was not certain if he wished to divulge her name yet.
“There is one more thing, sir.”
Hill looked up at him, waiting for him to continue.
“I was not the first person in the room.”
“I suppose there is a good reason why you did not tell me this at once?” Hill asked in a stern voice.
Felix gave a casual shrug. “I suspect the other person was the one to find the documents. I do not think they were left out on the desk.”
Hill waved his hand impatiently.
“The intruder was hiding under the desk, and I am not certain I would have discovered them, except…”
“Except what, Knight?”
“Except I could smell perfume. I suspect the intruder was female.”
Hill narrowed his gaze and took another long drink. “Many a nation has been brought down by a wily female.”
“But whom?” Everleigh asked keenly. “The villa was guarded more closely than Napoleon’s boudoir.”
“That is what I wish to know,” Felix said candidly. “We had no one else authorized to be in that study.”
“A free agent?” Owens suggested.
“If so, nothing good will come of it,” Hill remarked. “It means there is distrust amongst the allies. Knight, I want you to discover who this person is—male or female. It had to have been a guest at the ball. I will have the guest list sent over in the morning. Woo every single lady if you must until you discover who it is.” He drained his glass and set it down on the table with a heavy thud. “I am for bed.”
They watched Hill leave and shut the door behind him.
They drank in silence for a few moments. This was an unforeseen complication that none of them had anticipated.
“Why did you not tell him?” Everleigh asked, once just the three of them remained.
Felix thought carefully before answering. “I want to see what she is about.”
“And your time on the terrace with her revealed nothing? You must be losing your touch.”
Felix stood and placed his finished drink next to Hill’s. “Perhaps I am, but delivering her up would reveal nothing. I must uncover what she is about.”
Everleigh shook his head and set his own glass down. “I do not predict a good ending to this.”
Owens also rose, his glass joining the others on the table. “Nor I, but it will be a jolly good show.”
*
Catalina could not remember being so angry. As if she had not been humiliated enough, the arrogant Major had been there to rub her face in her shame. To make matters worse, he did not think her a worthy adversary! She would prove it to him if it was the last thing she did!
She had been spying for a couple of years, now. It began when Lieutenant Dion had discovered her influence over men. They tended to lose their heads when in her company and spill secrets. “No one would ever suspect her,” he had said. Her father had reluctantly agreed.
What she could not understand was why the Englishman was so angry. Were they not on the same side? Although his meddling could cost Spain a great deal. He should not have been in that study tonight. Who had sent him?
She had done the difficult task and he had had the gall to insult her and take her work! Thankfully, he had not arrived in time to do more than find her hiding. It proved nothing. She changed out of her ballgown into her nightclothes and waited for her father. He would not be pleased by the interference of the Englishman.
It felt like an eternity that she waited, even though in all likelihood it was no more than twenty minutes. He knocked on the door twice as he always did.
“Come in, Papa.”
Thankfully, he was alone. He looked very tired. She hoped this war would be over soon and they could move back to Villa Blanca.
He sat in the chair near her window and smoothed his fingers down both sides of his graying mustache.
“Tell me,” he commanded.
“I was interrupted. Someone else was searching the room.”
“Did he see you?”
She shook her head furiously. “No, but he knows who I am.”
He narrowed his gaze. “And who is he?”
“An Englishman. A Major Knight.”
“I have heard of him. He is close to Wellington—one of his favored aides.”
“Why have I not seen him before?” she asked, trying not to be irritated that her father had not warned her.
“He was being held in a prison camp. I was unaware he had been released. Did he take the papers?”
“Every last one. He seemed very suspicious.”
Her father grew very quiet when he was angry. He was now very, very quiet. Catalina knew this meant that there was a traitor amongst his people. He had laid a trap, and now the English would know about it.
“You must retrieve the papers.”
“How am I to do that? Do you propose I break into the British Headquarters?”
“If you must. But I saw you dance with him. Use your influence on him.”
“I am certain it is already too late. I could not get close enough when dancing or even on the terrace. He knew it was I in the study, so was very cautious.”
“Then take Dion to help you break in tonight. If they do not have the documents, they have no proof. Perhaps they will not have read them yet.”
She could feel herself scowl. “I will be better alone.”
“You may not travel the streets of the city by yourself. You may do the rest alone, but he will accompany you there. Do you even know where it is?”
She waved her hand dismissively. “It will be easy enough to discover.”
Her father stood. “Report to me when you return.”
He kissed her on the cheek and left, no doubt to seek his bed. She stared at the ceiling for a moment, her feet exhausted and her eyes heavy with the desire for sleep. Now she must go and retrieve the papers from that cerdo.
Shaking her head, she muttered to herself the entire time she was making ready. She pulled on dark-coloured breeches and shirt, along with some well-worn boots that were useful when climbing. She wound a scarf around her neck—with which to hide her white face when needed—then hurried down the stairs, considerably irritated.
As if she had not suffered enough indignity, now he insisted Dion accompany her! She had asked for this, and relished the independence, but there were limits to what she could endure.
Dion was waiting at the bottom of the stairs and she barely acknowledged him as she whisked past to the study. She took her father’s gun from the desk, and having checked it, hid three knives about her person. One she slid inside her boots, one in a sheath at her waist, and one inside the jacket pocket. Next came a rope that she wound around her body and clipped to her belt. One never knew what tools would be useful when breaking and entering.
They rode silently into the city. A couple of streets away from the British officers’ lodging-house, she directed Dion to hold the horses and wait. The less he had to do with this operation, the better. She did not know why she resented the man so much, but he seemed to have a layer of oil surroundi
ng him that made her skin crawl. She trusted him not at all.
“You will whistle if you have need of me?” he asked, which she appreciated more than she cared to admit. She pulled out the tin whistle which hung from a cord around her neck and showed it to him.
“I will walk the horses if they grow restless, but I will not be far.”
Catalina gave a nod and then crept away into the darkness, slinking along beside the buildings, behind trees and bushes when able. When she reached her objective, she stood across the street and surveyed the unobtrusive house. It was housing several British officers. She knew these houses well. All the dwellings in this part of the city were of similar build. Constructed of golden stone with a tile roof, this one also had a green door. The kitchens would be in the basement and the reception rooms would be on the first floor, with the bedrooms and servant rooms located on the floors above. There were no lights shining from any of the windows, and many were open on this warm night to allow in a breeze.
She smiled wickedly. This was too easy. She crept across the street and hid beneath an almond tree in front of the house while plotting her next move. The open window on the floor above would be a drawing room or dining room, in all likelihood. It would have been helpful had Dion been there to give her assistance, but she would not be deterred. She was light enough that the railings on the windowsill would hold her. A row of rosebushes were arranged in a line beneath the windows in front of the house, daring her to fall into them.
Roses, he had said. She took a knife and cut one off before tucking it behind her ear in defiance.
A rush of excitement came over her as she began her climb upward. She jumped and her hands took hold of a railing while her body dangled beneath. Her fingers immediately burned beneath the weight. There was no good place for her feet. Using only her arms’ strength, she pulled her body up until one knee could balance precariously on the sill, for she needed her other arm to open the sash.
The wood had warped and was difficult to slide; she struggled to create a gap wide enough to slip through. With the force needed to push the window open, she slipped and her body tumbled forward into the room. She caught herself before she made a loud thud.
The Dark of Knight Page 2