The Dark of Knight

by Johns, Elizabeth

  She rested where she lay on the floor for a moment, catching her breath and letting her eyes adjust. That had not been completely smooth, but it appeared she was still undetected. The smell of spirits, tobacco and maleness lingered in the air. She was in a man’s domain. They had not been gone long, she thought, but it did not deter her. She crawled along the floor toward some leather chairs set around a table, and she could picture Major Knight and the others discussing what had happened. Had he given her away?

  She scanned the room for where they might have hidden his booty from the night, and wondered if he would be so foolish as to leave it on the same floor with the windows open. She crawled forward to the table and felt paper beneath her hands. She stopped and came up to her knees. Four glasses sat on top of the documents in a perfect square. She frowned with disappointment. Was it to be so easy, then? Had they realized they were false?

  She moved the glasses gingerly and rolled up the papers, then rearranged the glasses as they were before. As she was about to leave, a moment of devilment came over her and she laid the rose between the glasses. He would know it was her, she thought with satisfaction.

  “Enough of such foolery,” she told herself shortly. Tucking the papers securely into her coat, she climbed out of the window, not troubling to close the sash again.

  She pushed away from the wall to avoid the roses, and released her hold. Her ankles smarted from the drop when she met the stone. Glancing up from her crouched position, she allowed herself to imagine Major Knight seeing her for a brief moment before she ran away. She smiled up at the window for good measure—just in case—before dashing away to find Dion.

  The lieutenant grunted with satisfaction when he saw her and cupped his hands to aid her to mount before they rode off into the night.

  Chapter Three

  Felix was awakened the next morning by an angry colonel, who was leaning over his bed holding a rose under his nose.

  “What is the meaning of this?”

  There was not a soldier alive who could not wake up in an instant, but Felix still had to blink a few times. He had no idea what Colonel Hill was asking him.

  “I beg your pardon, sir, I do not know what you mean.”

  “The papers are gone and a rose was left behind.”

  “A rose?” Suddenly, Felix knew exactly what had happened. He cursed himself roundly. “I believe I was taught a lesson, sir.”

  Hill dropped the rose on his chest. “Be downstairs in five minutes to explain.” He turned and stamped from the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Felix threw his head back on the pillow. She had made a point, he supposed, but what else was she about?

  He dressed hastily and went downstairs to report to his superior.

  Hill did not look up from his desk. “Explain.”

  “The person in the room last night smelled of roses. I believe I know who the lady is—and that she was trying to prove a point by retrieving the documents.”

  “And leaving the rose?” Hill looked at Felix over his glasses, unamused. “Is this some sort of game, Knight? It had better not be a lover’s spat.”

  “Not at all, sir. I will go and have a word with her this morning.”

  “You do just that, and have a good explanation when you return. I will expect names, which you so pointedly avoided giving me last night.”

  “I did not want to besmirch a lady’s name without verification, sir, but I am quite certain it was Lady Catalina Mendoza.” There was no sense in prevaricating any longer.

  Hill sat back and pulled off his glasses, biting the end of an earpiece while he looked deep in thought.

  “Do you know aught of her history in espionage?” Felix dared to ask.

  “No, her name was unknown to me, but things begin to make sense,” Hill replied slowly. Felix waited. “We have suspected for some time that someone was leaking information, and we deliberately planted false information to narrow down the source.” He hesitated. “We believe the leak comes from the Spanish contingent, more specifically Mendoza.”

  Felix frowned. Hill waved him to a chair. Taking a plain armchair with a faded gold fabric seat not unlike a camp chair, he perched on the edge, leaning towards his commander.

  “If Mendoza was aware of this leak—presuming he was not involved—he could have planted these papers in order to catch the traitor himself.”

  “It would explain why he wanted the papers back, certainly,” Felix agreed. He tried to picture the petite beauty scaling the walls and stealing into their house during the night. He smiled despite himself. “Should I confront her?”

  “We must to do something,” Hill remarked. “To leave as good as a signature behind…” He shook his head. “I should have your neck if you did such a thing.”

  “Except she knew that I knew. I accused her of being an amateur and she was making a point.”

  Hill raised his brows much like Felix’s brother, the duke, would in a silent reprimand. He put the tips of his fingers together in a steeple shape and placed his forehead on them.

  “Go and speak with her and tell her we know what is afoot.”

  “Call her bluff, you mean?”

  “If it is one,” he agreed. “It certainly points to Mendoza’s personal innocence. Tell her we will help find their traitor. We have new intelligence from Hookey this morning, just come in on a dispatch. The Spanish contingent will be the last to receive the order and you will be the one to give it to Mendoza directly. Wellington is ready to move in for the kill and nothing had better leak.”

  “Yes, sir,” Felix answered. “Do you have any suggestions on how I might be received by Lady Catalina without a chaperone?”

  Hill smirked at him. “I have no doubt, with your reputation, you can determine how to woo the lady. Your particular talents will be greatly appreciated by your country.”

  Felix snorted.

  “Dismissed,” Hill said and returned his attention to the papers on his desk. Felix had risen and walked towards the door when Hill’s words stopped him. “Oh, and Knight, you might want to re-button your jacket before you go a-courting.”

  Many unkind retorts came to Felix’s tongue, but he simply saluted, as a good subordinate officer did, regardless of what idiocies came from his superior’s mouth.

  He climbed the stairs and corrected his toilette before calling for his horse and riding off to Mendoza’s lodgings across from the Parque de los Jesuitas. It was not far enough away for Felix to blow off his anger, and he still had not decided what to say to Lady Catalina when he reached up to knock on the door. It was answered by Lieutenant Dion instead of a servant. Everleigh’s suspicions of the man sprang to mind.

  “Major Knight to see the Lady Catalina,” Felix said.

  The Lieutenant scowled but opened the door. “Join the throng.” He held out his hand to indicate the way to the drawing room.

  It was barely a civilized time of the morning, and yet the drawing room was full of suitors? Felix wished he could leave her to them, but this must be dealt with. He stood at the doorway, not bothering to hide his displeasure. Turning at his arrival, several of the young men looked afraid of him. Good. Perhaps they thought he was vying for the lady’s hand, but nothing could be further from the truth. However, it was a useful tactic to employ at this point.

  Lady Catalina looked up and inclined her head to him, a smug smile of satisfaction on her face.

  “Major Knight,” she said with false sweetness.

  He stepped forward, this time taking her hand and boldly kissing it. “I have come, as you see, to fulfil my obligations. We are engaged for a walk in the park.” He then pulled her to her feet, holding her firmly by the arm. He would not give her a chance to refuse.

  “Indeed? It must have slipped my mind.”

  Several of the young fops groaned their displeasure.

  “Forgive me, gentlemen. I cannot cry off an engagement. I will see you all later.”

  She stepped over some of the men who were attempting
to scramble to their feet and Felix led her out of the front door. Dion began to hasten after them, which brought a surprising look of annoyance to Lady Catalina’s face. That was an interesting revelation. However, having the lieutenant trail behind—much though it might amuse—did not suit his purposes.

  “We will go no further than the park. You may watch from the window if you choose,” Felix ordered.

  Dion looked displeased, but clearly dared not argue with a superior officer, even if he was English.

  Felix continued to hold firmly on to Lady Catalina’s arm until they crossed the street into the park. Once there, he loosened his grip.

  “Thank you,” she said, with genuine relief.

  He looked sideways at her. “I did not expect those to be the first words from your lips.”

  “You think I enjoy having ridiculous young men spouting sonnets to me and languishing at my feet? It is my father’s wealth they seek, not my heart. I do my duty and nothing more. And then that imbecile insists on following me like a duenna.” She growled in the back of her throat, making him smile despite his annoyance. Whatever else she was, she was not just in the common way. “Why are you here? I doubt it was for my rescue.”

  “Need you ask?” He shook his head in disbelief.

  “Oh, you found my gift.”

  “My superior found your gift,” Felix corrected.

  “Did you get into trouble?” she asked, sounding very pleased with herself.

  “Not at all. Many things became clear to us with your gift, as you call it.”

  She tilted her face up to him. “Please enlighten me.”

  They walked towards a bench, ironically set amongst a garden of roses. He directed her to be seated and joined her, after looking around to make certain they could not be overheard.

  “I believe you planted those papers there deliberately in order to trap someone.”

  “Very clever,” she remarked, as though she thought he were anything but.

  “We have been aware for some time that there is a leak from within your father’s camp.”

  She stared straight ahead, but he could sense her anger in the way she fidgeted with her gloves.

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because we are on the same side. I want to help you.”

  “How do you know? Such a traitor could easily be me. You caught me yourself.”

  “I suppose that is a risk I—we—are willing to take.”

  “And how do you propose to help?”

  “We work together. The orders go directly from you to your father. No middleman.”

  “And if my father disagrees? He is rather attached to his lieutenant.”

  “Your father is not in a position to disagree,” Felix answered firmly. “Just as I am not able to object to working directly with you.”

  She turned, then, and openly glared at him. “Because you think a female incapable?”

  “You would not ask that if you met my sister,” he drawled. “No, it is because you made a deadly mistake last night, then proceeded to leave a signature, simply to prove a point.”

  “Did it work?”

  He sighed heavily as his answer.

  “How do you propose we work together?” she asked, continuing to be coy.

  “Unfortunately, there is only one way. I must pretend to court you.”

  *

  “You make it sound as though you have been asked to drink poison,” she snapped.

  “That might be less painful,” he retorted unkindly.

  “All this because you smelled my perfume? Other ladies wear the same fragrance, you know.” She stood up abruptly. “I do not agree with this dictum. You merely wish to play nursemaid to me and I will not have it.”

  He had risen, as a gentleman did, and was now looking down at her. “I wish nothing of the sort. This was not my idea.”

  “I will speak to my father.”

  “Alone,” he ordered.

  “Alone,” she conceded. “Dion is not my favorite, either.”

  “That is one thing we can agree on. What do you know of him?”

  “Very little. My father trusts him with everything. He is also from the north. He has been with us for two years now.”

  “Might I suggest you make it your duty to discover more about him? If he is from the north, he could have ties to France.”

  Part of her would love nothing more than to be rid of Dion, but it would humiliate her father.

  He read her mind. “This will not reflect poorly on your father. He would not be the first man to trust the wrong person. But do consider: Dion is a name found in both Spain and France. This close to the border, loyalties could be divided.”

  Catalina knew it was possible. When she had been a child, France had not been the enemy. They had visited there several times. The Basque country was a mixture, even now.

  “I do not like Dion, but I do not believe he is a traitor.”

  “I will be pleased if he is not. However, you must be very careful. He is often your chaperone, is he not?”

  “Escort, on occasion. An elderly aunt lives with us at Villa Blanca, but she cannot follow the drum. And my maid…” She shook her head. “She is useless.” Except for her talent with hair and clothing, she amended to herself.

  “Does Dion help you in your spying activities?”

  “Help is a very strong word. He accompanied me to your headquarters last night and waited outside for me while I took the papers.”

  “I see.” He took her arm and began walking her around the park towards the fountain. “Are you certain you can persuade your father?”

  “He will not be pleased,” she conceded.

  “I suspected as much. May I suggest a diversion for the lieutenant?”

  Despite herself, Catalina was pleased. “And how do we do this?”

  He pulled out a sealed note and held it out to her. “I have an official letter here for you to hand to Dion. It tells partial truths of our plans to attack. It is our hope it will send the French running into the Pyrenees, towards France.”

  “And by telling him this, he delivers the information and is also out of the way?”

  “Precisely.”

  “When am I likely to see you again? I can hardly send over love notes to you at headquarters.”

  “I will find a way to send word to you. Wellington arrives soon and he will want entertainment.” He turned and led her back to the house, where he bowed over her hand at the front door. He did not escort her back inside. She watched him walk away in the direction of the stables before she turned to enter the house.

  Dion was waiting just inside the door, like a dog for its master. If only he had a tail to wag, she thought, in some amusement.

  “You were gone a long time.”

  If looks could give set-downs, then Dion should be six feet under, she mused. Alas, they were lost on him. She glanced at the clock on the wall. Its pendulum was swinging comfortably, marking the passage of time with no sense of human conflict.

  “I have not been absent above half an hour,” she responded shortly. She did not doubt he had watched every solitary minute. It would not surprise her if he had had a sailor’s spy glass trained upon them the whole while.

  “What did he want?” he asked, not bothering to hide his curiosity.

  She waved her hand flippantly. “To court me, of course.”

  He watched her suspiciously. “He does not behave like your usual suitors.”

  “Major Knight is not the usual stamp of gentlemen.” She tried to look dreamy. It was not a practiced look, nor yet an emotion with which she was familiar.

  “I cannot like you associating with him,” Dion said, still scowling.

  “You presume too much. It is not your place to comment upon what I choose to do,” she snapped. “Where is my father?”

  “In his study, your ladyship.”

  Ignoring this insolence, she turned to walk away. However, Dion’s footsteps echoed behind hers. That would never
do. She spun around and glared at him. “I do not need a shadow!”

  “My work is in there.”

  “Very well.” She stalked down the hall and opened the study door. Seated at his desk, her father looked up. “Father, I need to speak with you. Alone.” She emphasized the last word and only just kept herself from fixing Dion with a malevolent stare.

  “Anything you can say to me you can say in front of Dion.”

  Dion smirked triumphantly back at her in the manner of a naughty child.

  “Papa,” Catalina pleaded in a voice that was sure to get his attention. He looked up. She tried to look embarrassed. “This is private.” Let them use their imaginations.

  “Why did you not say so?” He stood up. “Come with me for a walk. I have been sitting too long.”

  Catalina did not demean herself by gloating. She could tell Dion was eager to get his hands on the note from Major Knight, but she needed to tell Papa everything first.

  Catalina did not speak until they reached the park. “I took a walk here with Major Knight not twenty minutes ago.”

  “I see,” her father said quietly. “So, this is not about something a mother would discuss with you?”

  “No, Papa. He asked me to go directly to you.”

  Her father remained quiet.

  “They know information has been leaking from the Spanish camp and they have narrowed it down to those under your authority.”

  “They believe me innocent after finding you with the documents?” He turned and looked at her with disbelief.

  “He said the documents were what proved our innocence.” She shook her head, baffled as well.

  “I find it interesting that the Englishman came straight to you.”

  “They know you trust Dion implicitly,” she said carefully.

  “They suspect him?” Her father did not trouble to keep the anger from his voice.

  “They have to, can you not see that? If not him, they will instead suspect us.”

  They walked in silence until they reached the rose garden. Catalina smiled, then remembered what she was about and pulled the letter from her pocket where she hoped Dion could not see. There was little doubt he was watching every move they made.