He finally allowed himself to glance sideways at her, trying to think of her as Eugenia or as a boy. It was difficult not to notice her strong, shapely legs as she rode. He had to admit she had done a fair job of disguising herself, but he still knew it was her. He shuddered to think how she must have bound certain parts of her anatomy in order to be successful.
She noticed him looking at her. “Will I do?”
“I believe so.”
“Confess, you did not think I could succeed.”
“No,” he corrected, “I still held out hope, but was skeptical.”
She laughed. “It took help from one of the maids. I do not know if I will be able to disguise my hair so cleverly by myself,” she replied, then adding, as if to herself, “It might need to be cut, but it will grow back again.”
Felix contained his urge to command her never to cut a hair from her head, but he knew it might prove essential for her survival.
“I hope that will not be necessary. I will assist as much as I am able.” He watched her transfer her reins to one hand and tuck the other against her stomach. “How is your arm feeling, by the way?”
“Having two days to rest has been a blessing,” she answered at once. “I do not want to hold anyone back. It is difficult to realize I am not whole. I am used to being rather agile.”
Felix had witnessed her abilities. “I never did compliment you on that daring climb from the carriage and the ensuing jump.”
“In skirts,” she reminded him.
“In skirts,” he conceded. “At least you have no such inhibitions now. Pray your abilities will not be required this time.”
They stopped twice to water the horses and Owens and Everleigh pulled up at a small farmhouse west of the encampment. They dismounted, and Felix and Lady Catalina followed their lead.
“This is about a mile from the encampment. We have already spoken to the family and made arrangements to use their barn for our horses, and the hayloft for sleep if necessary, in exchange for a warning if the fighting is expected to come in this direction. And, of course, some coin to pay for feed.” Quietly, they led their horses down a path to a wooden outbuilding; Captain Everleigh opened the door and let them all inside.
Fresh hay and water had been placed in the empty stalls. It seemed the farmer was prepared for them. Two job horses looked up with mild interest, but quickly went back to their own hay.
Felix wondered if Catalina had ever slept in a barn before. They found billeting when able, but often slept in tents when on the march. This adventure would continue to test her mettle.
“Pack as lightly as you can and leave the rest here. If something happens, meet back here later. Owens and I will do our best to stay together, and you two should do the same,” Everleigh said.
Soon they set off on foot, only a small bag of rations, two knives, and a pistol for each of them. Felix had a spy glass which had, in the past, often saved him from exposure.
The mile-long walk went by quickly, the sounds and smells of the large encampment reaching them long before their feet reached the perimeter. Everleigh and Owens gave them a nod as they separated from them.
“Who is on the list?”
Felix sighed heavily. It pained him to admit to the presence on the list of the Englishmen they suspected.
“Roberts and Hill,” he said softly into her ear.
A look of shock crossed her face. “The first I suspected, but the second? It makes no sense to me.”
“Nor to me, and I do not want to believe it, but apparently there is enough evidence not to dismiss him out of hand.”
“But he runs the British Intelligence operation,” she said, obviously trying to comprehend what he had told her. Felix understood her shock. If she felt this way, his feelings were much deeper, having worked for the man for years. It had taken a long, hard ride to compose himself. Owens and Everleigh had been equally shocked.
“He knows we are alive. He knows everything.”
“Yes, but he does not know Wellington suspects him. He will lay the trap himself and you and I will have to find the proof.”
“I have mixed feelings,” she said, frowning adorably. “I wish to vindicate my father, but I do not wish for Hill to be guilty.”
“My sentiments exactly,” Felix agreed.
“And Dion.” She threw her hands up in the air. “Will he be watching us watching him?”
Felix could not help but smile at her. Such passion would be deeply frowned upon in an English ballroom.
“What did I say?”
“It is not so much what you said but how you said it. If you speak with your hands like that, you will never pass for a servant boy.” Felix felt an immediate urge to kiss her, but he restrained himself. This most definitely was not the time, and if they were seen, there would be worse consequences.
“Come. We must discover where the command tents are. Typically, they are placed in a particular order, but now that they have rejoined all of the contingencies, it will be a bigger undertaking to watch every movement.”
“We will need to search his belongings,” Lady Catalina remarked.
“Yes,” Felix agreed. “There will only be a small opportunity to do so, if at all. Everything will be in code and he must not know anyone has been in there.”
“What, specifically, would we be searching for? Have you any idea?” she asked as they walked around the perimeter of the camp.
Felix shook his head. He had been over everything in his mind ad nauseam. “Wellington and Hill go back longer than anyone else out here. They attended school together in their youth. Both have a long family history of loyalty to the Crown. Why would he betray his country or his oldest friend?”
“Perhaps he does not wish England and the allies to fail, but Wellington himself,” she suggested.
“Jealousy,” Felix whispered. Such base emotions had not occurred to him in connection with Hill and Wellington. He did not wish to believe it, but it was one of the deadly sins, and Hill was as human as the rest of them. Felix should not be blinded by his personal feelings or wishes. Yet, something did not feel right.
*
Catalina could tell Major Knight was struggling with thoughts of his superior betraying his country for such evil reasons. She had felt much the same about Dion. Were the two connected or was it a coincidence? Major Knight had said he did not believe in coincidences, so they must look for the connection. Perhaps it would explain much.
It took them several hours to map out the encampment. Hill and Wellington’s tents were well surrounded and unless there was to be a meeting or dinner, there was too much activity for them to conduct a search.
Once an hour the two of them returned to their starting point to exchange information.
“It is too risky to do anything by daylight. We may reposition ourselves closer to the tents, now that we have found them, but I do not expect any blatant exchanges of information in daylight. We must wait for nightfall and hope the tents are empty long enough for us to take a look,” Knight said when next they met. “I have found the perfect place from which to watch, however.”
Catalina followed him as they repositioned their lookout to where there was a slight elevation overlooking the camp. Well hidden by brush and olive trees, Major Knight settled them to wait, as comfortably as was possible, beneath the shade of the tree.
From their vantage point, the encampment looked like a city of tents. The allied army had amassed to over 120,000 men, plus the women, children and animals who accompanied them. Smoke rose from the hundreds of fires, and the smells of cooking tempted her growling stomach. Sounds of children’s laughter could be heard in the distance, and groups of soldiers walked toward the river to fish or perhaps to hunt.
“You are certain we cannot be seen? Your Colonel Hill will know we are out here.”
“Yes, but recall he does not know he is a suspect,” Knight answered in a low voice.
“I still cannot like it. I feel like a duck waiting for the fox
to pounce on me. Do you not feel the sensation of being watched?”
Major Knight put down his spyglass and looked around cautiously. “I do not, but I never discount anyone else’s feelings on the matter. When did this feeling start?” he whispered.
“Since we came to our new position, but it only became very strong a few minutes ago,” she replied.
“Very slowly, I want you to lie down on the ground.”
Catalina obeyed, with as little movement as possible. She watched as Major Knight checked to make certain nothing bright or reflective was standing out, and tilted his head down lower to cover the light of his face.
Catalina quieted her mind to listen for sounds. It was quite astonishing, what you could hear when you allowed yourself to listen. Insects chirped and birds sang, and very often listening would give you clues, if you paid attention. It was difficult to ignore Major Knight’s lithe body next to her, but she did her best to keep still and keep her mind on her surroundings.
They heard a rustling in the bushes at the same time, for he placed his hand on her arm and gave a gentle squeeze.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention, and she felt her heartbeat quicken with anticipation. He positioned his eye-glass carefully and began to survey the area around them.
A disturbed branch made another rustling sound and Major Knight took hold of his pistol as she put her hand on the butt of a knife.
Both of them held still—she knew he did not wish to give away their position. They did not have the evidence they needed to convict anyone.
She felt him move his spyglass to his eyes, and she could sense the relief flood through him.
“What have you found?” she asked.
He took the glass from his face and placed it in front of her eye, trying to point her in the right direction.
It took her a moment, but she spotted a doe and two fawns. “How beautiful,” she whispered. It was a good reminder to proceed with caution, however. He uncocked his pistol and placed it back in its holster.
Catalina awoke with a start and realized she was once again resting on Major Knight. She really needed to stop doing that. She glanced up to see him smiling down at her.
“I fell asleep,” she said stupidly.
“Yes,” he agreed, looking entirely amused. “I took a short rest myself,” he added.
Catalina sat up, careful not to put any weight on her arm. She was exhausted and most likely disheveled, and their true work was just beginning. It would be a few difficult days until the battle was over.
“We should eat and prepare to go back down to the camp. We must situate ourselves close to the tents and take any chances we have. You will be my lookout.”
Catalina was grateful she had asked her cook to prepare them some food. It hardly compared with the fare from the night before but pinxtos, topped with goat cheese and olives, was still welcome to her hungry body.
Major Knight stood gingerly and began to transform himself once again. By the time he was finished, he could have been taken for a batman or foot soldier. He caught her watching him.
“I could hardly be an old man in this camp,” he explained, as he put his arms through an old red uniform coat that he pulled from his bag.
“I suppose not.” She stood up as well and righted her clothing; the too-large trousers and coat had twisted a little. At least there was less to rearrange in men’s clothing. She reached up to feel her hair and realized it had escaped the tight confines the maid had placed it in that morning. She glanced at Major Knight, who was trying not to laugh.
“That is most helpful,” she retorted.
“I know, but you are too adorable for words,” he said, completely disarming her.
“I could stab your other leg and I do not think you would find that adorable,” she snapped.
“Indeed not, but you would never do it. Come here,” he said and when she complied, began to pin her hair back down to disguise it.
They were both dirty and tired; she should be repulsed by his smell of sweat and leather, but she forced herself not to inhale deeply of his scent. She closed her eyes and enjoyed his touch, which was surprisingly gentle.
“You will do. With a hat,” he added.
“Thank you,” she said dryly as she placed her hat low upon her head.
They began to make their way back down through the trees and brush, reaching the edge of the camp in a quarter of an hour.
“Hopefully they will be dining with Wellington and we may search with some leisure,” Knight said low in her ear.
“I do not think that is the correct word, Señor.”
He chuckled quietly, but sobered as they grew close and started walking amongst the tents.
Darkness had finally fallen and they both heard the ringing of the bell to signal dinner. He pulled her to his side and back into the shadows as someone emerged from the tent.
Colonel Hill walked in the other direction, settling his tricorn hat atop his head, not bothering to look behind him.
Catalina moved forward but Major Knight held her back. “His batman,” he whispered. They waited a few more minutes and, sure enough, the servant emerged. After his footsteps could no longer be heard, Knight moved forward.
“I will whistle if I see someone,” she said as he passed.
He gave a nod and then disappeared into the shadows.
Chapter Thirteen
Felix already had his story in place if Hill happened to return to his tent for some reason. He would simply explain that he was waiting to consult with him. The simplest stories were usually the most believable, in his experience.
Nevertheless, he crept quietly into the tent, lifting the canvas only enough to slip behind. Once his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, he pulled a taper from his pocket and lit it with a flint and steel.
Felix knew he had to be quick, but thorough. Having worked for the man for some time now, he knew there was a limited amount of information actually written down, but it would be foolish not to take the opportunity of looking.
No matter how many times he had done this, it was impossible to completely still his body. There was always a fear, mixed with the thrill of being caught. Every sense was on high alert, every feeling magnified. His heart pounded in his ears, his breaths were shallow, and his body beaded with perspiration as he looked about to assess his task.
Hill would not expect to be searched at this juncture, in the middle of their encampment, so Felix hoped the Colonel had not been too careful.
Beginning on the left side of the tent, Felix searched methodically so as not to miss anything. The batman had a pallet and a large duffel bag with his belongings and a haversack. He would not begin there, doubting even the servant knew of his man’s perfidy. Hill was too cunning for that.
Next, Felix searched under Hill’s cot, as well as through his blankets and pillow, finding nothing. He moved to his trunks, searching for false bottoms and hidden linings. There were some personal keepsakes and letters, but nothing to indicate treason. Lastly, there was a small folding table, used as a desk when traveling. Across it lay several dispatches, which was nothing unusual, although it looked as if he were writing them himself. Felix frowned. Normally the aides de camp and secretaries acted in the place of scribes and wrote these records as dictations. Felix scanned each one, detailing Wellington’s plan for the upcoming plan to defeat Bonaparte.
Even if Hill felt secure in this camp, why were these documents in plain view?
Felix read each one more carefully, memorizing phrases and looking for coded messages. He could detect none, which was even more strange. Perhaps he had not yet had the chance to cipher them?
He could feel, in his bones, that these papers held what they were looking for—or coded commands to someone to do something nefarious. However, there was nothing truly wrong about Colonel Hill being in possession of these dispatches. Could it be that he was copying the contents to share with the enemy?
Carefully making certain everyth
ing was just as he left it, Felix blew out his taper and cautiously left the tent.
Lady Catalina was where he had left her.
“Did you discover anything?” she whispered.
“I am not sure,” he answered truthfully. “Were there any movements from Roberts’ tent?”
“None. I have been watching all of them, and I believe they have all left for dinner.”
Felix gave a nod. “I had better try my luck there as well. There may not be another opportunity.” Dinner itself was not a lavish affair in camp, but some would linger for the time to relax and be social. Wellington encouraged the camaraderie in order to make this life and the battles as bearable as possible. Felix could only hope Wellington knew he would be searching and detain these men as long as possible.
He repeated his method of entry into the second tent, knowing he might have less time than the first. Felix knew much less about Roberts, since he had joined Wellington’s staff during Felix’s time in prison. Roberts seemed amiable enough, but there was nothing to either recommend or disconcert about the man.
There was no table with dispatches in here, so he spent more time on Roberts’ trunks. They also contained personal papers and letters, but at the very bottom, there was a packet of love letters, written in French. There was nothing particularly incriminating about that, but they warranted further perusal.
At the back of the tent, footsteps rustled in the grass, just as though they were on the other side of the canvas. Lady Catalina was off to the side. Felix quickly shoved the letters back into place, covered them with clothing and set the latch back on the closed trunk. He blew out his taper as he crept back to the flap.
He heard more footsteps and stilled in place; heart pounding loudly in his ears, he kept his back against the fabric wall. All senses on alert, he placed one hand on the dagger in his waistcoat and waited, listening intently as he tried to decipher the sounds he heard. The footsteps stopped for a moment and he wondered why Lady Catalina had not sounded an alarm when someone was so close.
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