“Do we not always hope each battle is the last? I wish we knew who our man was. I fear it is someone very close to the top.”
“It has to be someone high enough for Dion to have thought it worth his while to give secrets away. He was always looking for ways to better himself—if that is the right phrase.”
“Improve his lot, perhaps,” Knight suggested.
She emptied her glass, and he took the jug and refilled it with some mild, refreshing chacolí wine.
“I cannot remember a meal tasting so good,” he remarked, a contented look on his face as he watched a golden pupavac land on the balustrade next to its mate, and spread its black and white striped tail wide.
Catalina wished life could be as simple as it was for those birds.
“I suppose we should look for some disguises,” she said, regretful of the need to leave the moment of serenity.
“I daresay we should. I do not expect we will tarry here long.”
They left the table and she led him upstairs to the attics. It had been years since she had come up here to play, dressing up in the old clothes stored in the various trunks. Never would she have thought then that the next time would be with a man—and an English gentleman at that.
Chapter Ten
Felix could not remember the last time he had been up in an attic. He was certain it must have been when he was a child, and he and his siblings used to hide in the vast lofts of The Grange. This one was surprisingly neat, with rows of trunks on one side, furniture to the other, and paintings and decorations of sorts on another. The sun had fully set, and each of them carried an oil lamp to light their way.
Lady Catalina set hers down and looked around. “I have not been up here since my mother died,” she said with a touch of sorrow in her voice. “I used to come up here and rummage through the trunks to see what outrageous costumes I could create.”
“My sister used to do the same, although she has yet to realize they are costumes and not to be worn for everyday affairs.” He smiled at the thought of Eugenia.
“You love your sister,” Lady Catalina observed, stirring him from his thoughts.
“I do. We are the youngest and I spent the most time with her. She is an original, to be sure. I think you would like her.”
“I am certain of it,” Lady Catalina agreed as she began to open trunks. Dust motes flew through the air and he noticed she had a cobweb stuck in her hair.
Felix hoped they could leave soon, because tonight he had suddenly felt the pull of domestic bliss which must have enchanted his brothers.
Unaware, thankfully, of the traitorous direction of his thoughts, Lady Catalina was bending over a trunk and digging through it.
“I know they are here somewhere,” she muttered.
Felix tried to look at the ceiling instead of her luscious bottom up in the air. “What are you looking for?” he asked, moving to study a still life of fruit.
“My father’s and my grandfather’s old garments. I think it best if I dress as a groom, and we can disguise you as a vagrant.”
Felix raised his brows. “Somehow I doubt you have an abundance of old, tattered clothing.”
“Of course not,” she said with impatience. “But there are clothes that we can make appear thus.”
He doubted any disguise would make her look like a man, but at least people would have to look twice.
“What about this?” she asked, as she pulled out a hideous costume from at least two-hundred years ago. He kept his face impassive.
“No? I was only jesting you,” she said with a mischievous grin.
Being here was most definitely not wise. Lady Catalina and her society side—a diamond of the first water or belle of the ball—he could resist most emphatically. Catalina like this… hair down, dressed simply, being her natural self… was irresistible. He found himself moving closer and standing by her side, his body flatly ignoring his mind’s direction to remain still and indifferent.
She went diving for treasure once again, and Felix moved to the small window to look out. Not that there was anything to see, but he most definitely needed to cool his blood if there was any cool air to be had.
“Magnífico! Do not turn around,” she warned. “I shall step behind the paintings to change my dress.”
Did the woman not know that was the worst thing to say to a starving man? There is a raw steak here, waiting for your delectation, but you cannot have it? He could hear the sounds of her changing and ordered his mind to think of the most unromantic things he could. At least, he reflected sourly, that was one positive thing he had learned during his imprisonment. He concentrated on the dark, cold cell in which, sorely injured, he had spent three months, not knowing what fate would befall him.
“Major Knight? Felix?” He turned. Lady Catalina was standing beside him, looking up at him with tenderness and concern in her eyes as she searched his face. “You look as though you had suddenly taken a trip to Hell.”
He forced himself back to the present, abruptly cognizant he would give his life to protect her from personal knowledge of such places.
“I was thinking of something in my past.” He forced a smile to his face.
Her head was tilted, still looking up at him as though she did not believe his smile. She would not be easy to deceive.
Stepping back, she placed a hat on her head and circled before him. “Will I pass for a servant boy?”
How could Felix tell her truthfully what she looked like? His own thoughts were wayward and his voice was hoarse when he answered, “No.”
She frowned and looked down at herself. “Oh. I see.” Her cheeks flushed when she realized what was the matter.
With praiseworthy determination, Felix tried to pretend it was Eugenia standing before him. It helped a little.
“I believe I can take care of the problem.” She scrambled back behind the row of stacked pictures and changed back into her gown, looking more disheveled then she had before. He swallowed hard.
“Now we must find something for you, my lord. Is there any particular disguise you wish to assume?”
“I only need some different clothing and powder for my hair. I do a rather convincing old man,” he answered, using male arrogance to cover his discomfort.
Catalina pursed her lips and narrowed her gaze in clear disbelief, then shrugged. “Very well. We need only to go to my father’s dressing room for that.” Toro was waiting for them at the bottom of the narrow stairs, his tail thumping like a loud drum when he saw them descending the bare wooden steps. He stood, stretched his large, brindled body and then followed, treading like a horse.
Felix sat in a large chair in the adjoining sitting room while Lady Catalina rummaged through her father’s clothing. The room felt more like that of an old king than a general, with dark, heavy colors and thick velvet draperies and bed hangings.
Catalina emerged, arms full of clothing, and placed them on the couch in front of him. “I am certain you can find something to make you look old in here,” she announced. “Father cares little for fashion and is frugal in addition. Some of these items must be twenty or thirty years old.” Toro came over to sniff everything as if they were a long-lost treasure.
Catalina had to pry something from Toro’s mouth. “Give me that, you beast,” she commanded, then held the item up for inspection. It was a large, loose jacket of an indiscriminate tan, and she found a pair of long, loose-fitting trousers. “I think this will do nicely. I remember my grandfather wearing this to inspect the fields. It covers your arms, but is not too warm for summer. He had a hat he always wore with it,” she said, otherwise completely ignoring Felix sitting there as she marched back into the dressing room, the dog following close behind. Felix could hear her rummaging in cupboards and drawers, and Toro’s happy grunts.
Taking the trousers and coat, Felix went into the room next to the dressing room, which was the sleeping chamber. There was a tall screen painted with intricate birds, and Felix went behind it to change. When he w
ent back into the sitting room to wait for Lady Catalina, she emerged with a large-brimmed hat such as a gardener would wear to shield his neck.
She smiled, looking proud of herself. “Triunfo! I knew it was here.” She walked towards him and he obediently bent his head down for her to place the hat there. When he straightened, she pursed her luscious-looking lips and tilted her head, studying him critically. “You will never pass for un viejo.”
Felix smiled at her. “I need some powder.”
She looked skeptical, but she went back into the dressing room and came out with a box. “Father still wears powder to Court.” She held out the box to Felix.
He gave her a knowing look, then proceeded to transform himself, aging his appearance three decades with the powder. When he placed the hat back on his head and turned around, he stooped his posture and took several steps with a different gait. Toro growled.
Felix looked over at Lady Catalina and lifted a brow enquiringly.
“I am all astonishment! I did not think it was possible.”
“People see what they expect to, my lady,” he said in a gravelly voice, shuffling over to bow before her and place a kiss on her hand. He was taken aback by the warmth he saw in her gaze when he looked up at her.
She clasped his hand and pulled him to her, his hat flying off in the process.
There were so many reasons why this was not a good idea, but his brain refused to be reasoned with. Her hand wound its way around his neck and she boldly placed her lips to his. Resistance is futile, the wretched devil of a conscience whispered in his ear as he kissed her back. For now, he gave into the passion of the moment.
Toro began barking and for a fleeting instant, Felix thought the dog was trying to protect his lady. Then Felix heard a knock on the door and released Catalina. She turned away, presumably to hide her face, so Felix answered the door. Zubiri stood there, his face impassive yet an unmistakeable accusatory gleam in his eyes. He held out a sealed letter.
“This just came for you, my lord. The messenger awaits your answer downstairs.”
“Thank you, Zubiri. I will be down directly.”
Felix went back into the other room to put his normal clothes on and brush some of the powder from his hair. Catalina was still waiting for him when he finished, every trace of passion erased from her face.
“Did you read the note?”
“Not yet. I was about to do so.”
She shook her head as though a proper spy would have looked at the note first. He broke the seal and read it.
“What does it say?” she asked impatiently.
“It is from my brother. He has information for me.”
“Is that good news or bad?”
“I have no idea, but it looks as though I will be journeying into Bilbao tomorrow.”
*
Major Knight set out the next morning to meet his brother in Bilbao, garbed in his disguise. Catalina supposed he could have gone in uniform, but perhaps he did not wish to draw attention. How had the brother known how to find him? He must have tracked Wellington’s movements and then the messenger had been sent on from there.
Catalina was left to have a morning of leisure – she had forgotten what it was like. She was not at all certain that she did like it, in fact. Aunt Esmeralda had smiled when she saw Catalina, but it quickly became apparent she did not recognize her. They shared coffee and pastries, but her aunt fell asleep in her chair as soon as she had finished. The maid shook her head.
“She sleeps for much of the day now, my lady,” she said, tucking a blanket about Esmeralda’s knees.
Catalina left, not knowing what to do with herself. Her broken arm inhibited her, other than to take a bath or read a book, which she could not concentrate on. She was fretful, wondering what Major Knight was discovering, and she was ready for their next task. When one was used to being busy, it was difficult to settle into nothing. It was easy to say you longed for boredom, but when you had it, it was unsettling—and tedious.
Toro butted her hand with his head, as if on cue. “You want to go for a walk, do you? Very well. Waiting here does me no good.”
She changed into some sturdy half-boots and put on a bonnet. It had been over a year since she had been home. Life went on and the estate was well managed without either herself or her father needing to be there. It was humbling to realize she was not needed here.
She strolled through the vineyards and down to the river, Toro bounding happily about her. This same river ran towards Vitoria and where the next battle was likely to be. It was too close to home for comfort, and she prayed Wellington would be able to put an end to the conflict with this battle.
Hot and thirsty, she returned to the house a couple of hours later. She pulled off her bonnet and Toro went immediately into the drawing room. Catalina noted the butler’s guilty look with curiosity.
“There are visitors, my lady.”
“Indeed?” She was not properly attired to receive anyone, but Toro was already investigating the newcomers. “I had better go at once and meet them. Please send in a tray of lemonade. I am sorely parched!”
She hurried after Toro, wondering why her butler had ignored the order to keep their presence a secret. As soon as she entered the drawing room, she understood.
Captain Everleigh and Captain Owens stood up to greet her. Both men bowed.
“I hope you do not mind our intrusion, my lady. We bullied your butler into admitting us,” Owens teased.
“Please be seated. May I offer you refreshment? Tea or spirits?”
Zubiri entered with a tray of lemonade. Both of the men’s eyes lit up. “I would rather have lemonade,” Owens confessed. “It is a rare treat these days.”
“Of course,” Catalina replied, fully amused by Owens’s childlike nature. She would never have guessed he was one of England’s sharpest spies, but perhaps that was why he was so effective.
She passed both of them a glass and drank hers faster than was ladylike. “May I assume you have news?”
“We have orders, but where is Knight?”
“He received a message from his brother to meet him in Bilbao, so he rode out early this morning. I could not say when he will return. It is over twenty miles. You are welcome to stay here as long as you need to. I understand if you do not wish to tell me the orders without Major Knight being present, but if there are any preparations to be made, perhaps you can advise me in that direction?”
Owens and Everleigh exchanged glances. “I see no reason to withhold anything from you, Senorita. Wellington’s orders included your ladyship,” Everleigh reasoned.
“Was anything discovered of Dion?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
The men exchanged glances again.
“You may stop that. My sensibilities are not so delicate that you need protect them.”
“The men returned to the camp last evening. Dion was not found. The terrain was very unfriendly for searching, so it does not necessarily mean he escaped death.”
“Or from the carriage prior to the accident,” put in Owens.
“And it is still the belief that we all perished?” Catalina asked.
“Indeed,” continued Everleigh. “Your father is keeping himself aloof and is most convincing as he pretends to grieve.”
“Some of his grief will be genuine. He was very attached to Dion and very hurt by his betrayal,” she explained.
Zubiri knocked on the door and opened it, bringing in a tray of meats, cheeses and fruits for them.
“Thank you, Zubiri,” Catalina said, having not realized how hungry she was herself.
“You are a god amongst men, Zubiri,” Captain Owens praised as his eyes devoured the tray of beautiful food.
Catalina laughed. “We do not often see such delicacies in camp, Zubiri,” she explained.
“Rations are extremely thin at the moment. The French ransacked Burgos and took almost everything,” Everleigh added.
“I am pleased we have such things to o
ffer, sir,” the butler replied. “Is there anything else I might have Cook prepare for you?”
“This will do for now,” Captain Everleigh replied. “Our thanks to you and Cook.”
Zubiri looked pleased and bowed before he left the room.
Catalina waved her hand over the tray. “Please enjoy. I have been here longer than you and I am no longer ravenous, “she laughed.
“I think I am secretly wishing Knight stays away a long time,” Owens jested as he ate another piece of cheese.
“It is not secret if you say it aloud,” Everleigh said dryly.
Catalina sat quietly, watching and listening to the two banter back and forth. It was a welcome relief from the tedium of waiting for news, but her mind would keep wondering about Dion and she could not be at peace regarding him.
Zubiri re-entered, bringing café con leche and a tray of Etxeko Biskotxoa, her aunt Esmeralda’s favorite dessert, a shortbread crust pastry with an almond cream filling.
“Is there a tier above a god, Zubiri?” Owens asked. “Because you have achieved it, my friend!”
Catalina could have sworn Zubiri actually blushed, and she was taken aback for a moment.
“Cook wishes to know if you will stay for dinner?” Zubiri asked with a slight twitch of his lips. Catalina had not realized how much this war had affected the household as well. The servants had not catered for any entertainment in a very long time.
“We would be honored to dine here,” Captain Everleigh said, “if the Lady Catalina agrees.”
Hiding her amusement at this interchange, Catalina nodded her consent. Zubiri bowed, then left again.
The two gentlemen each had a dessert. Smacking their lips in appreciation, they leaned back in their chairs in contentment.
“I could die happy at this moment,” Owens said, gazing at the ceiling.
“You must tell me the plan before you go to Heaven, then,” Catalina quipped.
“Have we not done so?” Owens lifted his head and cocked one jaunty eyebrow upward.
She shook her head. “You have only told me of Dion and my father.”
The Dark of Knight Page 10