Duke of Rothermere

Castonbury Park

Harry,

It is with much regret that I must admit we have wasted precious time in the hunt for the truth. What might have become of Jamie is still unclear and our family name remains in tatters. What was once a powerful dynasty is fast crumbling around us and I fear that we may have to give in to the demands of the woman who calls herself Jamie’s wife.

Harry, I beg of you to stop the rot which is fast taking over the Montagues and discover once and for all what has happened to Jamie. Time is, as ever, of the essence, and I urge you from the bottom of my heart not to find any distractions along the way …

Yours hopefully,

Father

About the Author

JOANNA FULFORD is a compulsive scribbler, with a passion for literature and history, both of which she has studied to postgraduate level. Other countries and cultures have always exerted a fascination and she has travelled widely, living and working abroad for many years. However, her roots are in England and are now firmly established in the Peak District, where she lives with her husband Brian. When not pressing a hot keyboard she likes to be out on the hills, either walking or on horseback. However, these days equestrian activity is confined to sedate hacking rather than riding at high speed towards solid obstacles. Visit Joanna’s website at www.joannafulford.co.uk

Previous novels by the same author:

THE VIKING’S DEFIANT BRIDE

THE WAYWARD GOVERNESS

THE LAIRD’S CAPTIVE WIFE

THE COUNTERFEIT CONDESA

Did you know that some of these novels are also available as eBooks?

Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk

Redemption of a Fallen Woman
Joanna Fulford

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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For the Old Guard in Madrid

Chapter One

Elena Ruiz stared out of the window letting her gaze range across the rooftops of the city towards the open countryside and thence to the foothills of the Sierra de Guadarrama, shimmering in a dusty haze. Out there, beyond the jumble of pantiled slopes and chimneys, lay freedom. It was an emotive word. Her fellow countrymen and women had spent eight long years freeing themselves from the French invaders. She had played her part in that, and gladly too. When the conflict ended she desired no more than to live a quiet country life, but such freedom was not permitted women of noble birth. For them the choice was simple: marriage or the cloister.

Betrothal had taken place in a past life when she had been a different person. Young, naive and hopeful she had never questioned her pre-ordained role. The war had seemed far off then. It had caught up with her eventually, of course. As a result marriage was out of the question. No man of good family would want her now. In any case the thought of intimacy filled her with dread. Men did not touch her and the only one foolish enough to try had found himself staring down the barrel of a pistol. Even then it took a bullet crease in his arm to convince him she wasn’t bluffing. The incident was sufficient to keep the rest at a respectful distance. Memories were another matter. By day, useful employment kept them at bay but at night the dreams still returned, less often now but no less violent for that. She would never be entirely free of those. Her hands clenched at her sides and she turned away from the window to resume her slow pacing of the floor.

Her companion surveyed her keenly. Although of a similar age to Elena, her dress revealed her to be of the household servant class. In spite of unfashionable olive skin, her face with its high cheekbones and pointed chin was not ill-looking, though the mouth was too large for conventional beauty. However, the dark eyes were shrewd and intelligent and, just now, expressive of concern.

‘What are we going to do?’

‘I don’t know, Concha, but somehow we have to get out of this house.’

‘Your uncle’s servants are vigilant.’

‘Vigilant, but not infallible. I’ll think of something.’

‘Better to think quickly, then. We have only a few days more.’

‘I will not spend the rest of my life shut away just to suit notions of family honour.’

‘If we don’t find a way out of here you may have no choice. Your uncle is powerful and, as we have already seen, he has the means to compel obedience.’

That was undeniable, Elena reflected. He had no qualms about bringing her to Madrid against her will, and he would have none about expediting the rest of his plan either. As the head of the family now it was his responsibility to guard its reputation, a duty he took most seriously, and she had become a liability.

‘I’ll think of something,’ she replied, as though repetition might make it true.

Since their arrival two days earlier she had racked her brains trying to think of a viable plan. The only person whom she knew would help her was Dolores, but her beloved older sister was married and settled in England now. She might as well have been on the moon. As for Luisa and Estefania … they were lost to her for good. Even after four years the memory was still painful and she pushed it aside, along with all the others pertaining to that time. The past was done with, and if she didn’t put her mind to the present problem the future would be irrevocably blighted too.

‘At least you are not without means,’ said Concha.

‘Money is not the problem. There’s enough and to spare, but it will be no use unless we can get out of Madrid.’

‘If … when … we do leave, your uncle is certain to mount a search.’

‘We’ll worry about that when the time comes,’ said Elena. ‘In the meantime we must not give any reason for suspicion. Being under house arrest is bad enough. I don’t want to be locked in my room as well.’

Concha nodded. ‘You are right. Let it be thought that you are becoming resigned to your uncle’s will.’

‘Exactly.’ Elena made a vague gesture with her hands. ‘I have no wish to be at odds with him, or any other member of my family, but as it is … there’s no choice now.’

The sound of iron-rimmed wheels and horses’ hooves distracted her momentarily and she glanced out of the window to the street below to see a carriage approaching. Instead of driving past as she expected it stopped outside the house. To judge by the heavily sweating horses and the dust on the bodywork the vehicle had travelled some way. All the same, under the grime, it was a handsome equipage and certainly the property of a nobleman.

As she watched, a servant jumped down to open the door and let down the steps. A single passenger emerged, a gentleman, very elegantly dressed. He paused on the paved walkway and glanced up at the house. Elena caught her breath. Problems temporarily forgotten, she stared, arrested by a face in which strong lines accentuated the chiselled planes of cheek and nose and jaw. The hair visible below his hat was dark. He seemed to be tall too, certainly much taller than the servant with him, and carried himself with the air of one used to command.

Concha came to join her by the window and now stared in her turn. ‘Dios mio! Who is that?’

‘I don’t know. One of my uncle’s acquaintances from the embassy, perhaps?’

‘I imagined all his acquaintances must be old and ugly but I take it back now—unreservedly.’

They had no time for further observation because the unknown caller entered the house and was lost to view. Elena turned away from the window. She must be in more mental turmoil than she’d realised to be staring so at a complete stranger. Men were of no interest other than in a purely professional capacity. Besides, as things stood, she couldn’t afford to let herself become distracted, even briefly. All her thoughts had to focus on a means of escape.

Having presented his credentials, Harry Montague waited in the marbled hallway. It was cool and quiet in here, a welcome relief from the jolting rhythm and stifling heat of the carriage. He had almost forgotten the power of the Spanish sun. Forgetting had been deliberate and, mostly, successful, though he had been aided in that by work. Spain was a land of contrasts—a beautiful and blood-soaked land that was associated with some of the best and all of the worst days of his life. When the war had concluded he hadn’t expected that he would ever return, would never have chosen to—until circumstances made it imperative.

One swift glance around at the elegant furnishings was sufficient to suggest that the man he had come to see was both wealthy and possessed of impeccable taste. Whether he would be able to help as well remained to be seen. Coming here might be a fool’s errand but he had to try. He had promised his cousin Ross. Besides, the revelations of their last conversation were burned into his brain. Until then he’d had no idea how seriously compromised the family’s financial situation was. If he couldn’t obtain the proof he needed about Jamie’s death … He pulled himself up sharply. He would get the proof, one way or another.

Presently, the servant returned. ‘Don Manuel will receive you now, señor.’

Harry was shown into a downstairs salón, also elegantly furnished, where his host was waiting. Don Manuel Urbieta was in his middle years, his thinning hair more grey than dark, like the neat goatee beard he wore. Though slightly above average height, he was still several inches shorter than his visitor. For all that he had the proud, upright bearing that proclaimed a grandee of the hidalgo class.

When the necessary courtesies had been observed the don invited Harry to sit and, having plied him with liquid refreshment, took the chair opposite.

‘Now, my lord, won’t you tell me how I can be of service?’

Harry nodded. ‘I have come to Spain on urgent family business. It concerns my elder brother, James. He served with the British army during the war, but he was lost during the push into France.’

‘I am sorry to hear it.’

‘He was apparently swept away while crossing a flooded river.’

‘Apparently?’

‘My brother’s body was never found. The news of his death was by report only. The only witness, a man called Xavier Sanchez, disappeared shortly afterwards.’

‘I see.’

‘I made enquiries at the time, but the situation was chaotic and all attention was on the push for Toulouse. No one at headquarters was able to tell me very much, giving only the briefest account of the accident. When I tried to find the witness he had vanished too. It was like being confronted by a stone wall.’

Don Manuel eyed him shrewdly. ‘I think you have some doubts about this matter, no?’

Harry nodded. ‘There are questions in my mind, although they may just be the result of wishful thinking.’ He paused. ‘In the first place, my brother was an excellent swimmer. In the second, he worked for the Intelligence Service.’

‘Interesting.’

‘As time went on and we had no word, the family lost hope and assumed the worst. However, not long ago we received a letter from a solicitor, acting on behalf of a lady who claims to be Jamie’s wife. This lady has a young child, a son….’

Understanding dawned on Don Manuel’s face. ‘And this son stands to inherit the title if his claim proves to be legitimate.’

‘Exactly so.’

‘Have you reason to doubt this lady’s story?’

‘She may be what she claims.’

‘But you have reservations.’

‘I’m trying to keep an open mind. In view of the circumstances though, it is essential that I discover the truth.’

‘That is quite understandable.’ Don Manuel set down his glass. ‘I have contacts in the Intelligence Service here. They may be able to help. I will see what I can find out.’

‘I would be most grateful.’

‘In the meantime let me offer you the hospitality of my house.’

‘You are most generous, but I couldn’t possibly impose on you in that way.’

‘Nonsense. It will be my pleasure. Mi casa es su casa.’

‘Then I accept.’

‘Good. That’s settled, then.’ The don rose. ‘A room will be readied on the instant. Then, after you have rested from your journey, we will dine.’

The chamber to which Harry was later conducted proved to be large and comfortable. It was a courtesy he had not expected and, he admitted, far better than anything he would have met with at an inn. After the rigours of travel it would be a luxury to sleep in a decent bed again. He shrugged off his coat and then sat down to remove his boots, glancing across the room to where his manservant was unpacking a trunk.

‘I’d like to bathe if that can be arranged, Jack.’

Jack Hawkes looked up and nodded. ‘I thought you might, so I took t’liberty of bespeaking a bath for you, my lord.’

‘Wonderful. I’m beginning to smell rank.’

‘I reckon we’ve both smelt far worse.’

Harry grinned. ‘True enough.’ He tugged off a boot and then set to work on the other. ‘All the same, we’re not on campaign now and I’m not sitting down to dine in polite company until I’ve washed off all the dust.’

‘Aye, t’roads haven’t improved much since we left, have they?’

‘Unfortunately not.’ The other boot came off and Harry began to loosen his neck cloth. ‘Still, we’re here now and if there is any evidence of what happened to my brother this is where it’ll be.’

‘Let’s hope summat comes to light soon, then, my lord.’

Relaxing in the tub soon afterwards, Harry wholeheartedly endorsed that sentiment. Coming here was a long shot but it had to be done. One way or another, the doubt must be resolved. He hadn’t realised until then just how far he had been keeping hope alive. If anyone could find the information he needed it would be Don Manuel and, indeed, the man had shown himself to be a model of courtesy thus far. With his help Harry would find the answers he sought.

On the practical side there was Jack Hawkes. Ordinarily no manservant would have dreamed of or been permitted to address his master with such easy familiarity. But then, Harry reflected, there was nothing remotely ordinary about him. War formed a bond between men and, as a former member of Harry’s company during the Peninsular War, Hawkes had proved his worth a hundred times over. When the war ended and the force was demobilised he’d stayed on in the capacity of personal valet. Harry was glad of it; there were few men who were as discreet and none he trusted more.

As he dried himself and dressed he wondered whether there would be other company at dinner that evening. He had assumed that Don Manuel was married but had no idea if the wife was still living, or whether there were other relatives in the household. On arrival earlier he thought he had detected someone at an upstairs window, but the angle of view and the reflection on the glass made it hard to be sure. It would be interesting to find out.

Concha finished fastening her mistress’s gown and then stepped back, eyeing it critically. ‘It looks well, but … is red the best choice, under the circumstances?’

‘Under the circumstances it’s the only choice.’

‘I thought you would say that.’ The maid smiled wryly. ‘Your aunts won’t like it.’

‘They disapprove of me anyway. Besides, virginal white would be inappropriate now.’ Elena glanced at the clock and sighed. ‘I wish I didn’t have to go down there. The thought of another meal in that company has no appeal whatever.’

‘I know. All the same, it will be better if you do.’

‘Lull them into a sense of false security, you mean?’

‘If you appear to be following domestic protocols they are less likely to suspect anything. Then, when you have conceived your plan, they will be taken by surprise.’

Elena thought she could probably manage the protocols part, but the plan was another matter. In spite of racking her brains for a solution she had still not come up with anything feasible.

‘I’d better go. Wish me luck.’

‘Always,’ said Concha.

Elena squeezed her arm gently and smiled. Then, taking a deep breath, she headed for the door.

Chapter Two

When Harry arrived in the salón just before the appointed hour, it was to find Don Manuel already present. With him were four others. The two gentlemen, both with greying hair, appeared to be in their late forties. Both were of short stature and tending to corpulence. The two ladies looked older and both were expensively if severely gowned in black. If either ever had pretensions to beauty it was no longer evident. Nor was this deficiency ameliorated by their haughty and unsmiling demeanour. Don Manuel introduced them as his sisters, Doña Inéz and Doña Urraca. The gentlemen, Don Fernando and Don Esteban, were cousins.

As the introductions were performed Harry made a formal bow. Doña Inéz inclined her head in acknowledgement and offered a faint condescending smile that stopped well short of her dark eyes.

‘You honour us with your presence, Lord Henry. I trust that your journey here was satisfactory.’

‘Thank you, yes.’

‘I do not care to travel myself,’ she replied. ‘It is too fatiguing and the state of the roads leaves much to be desired.’

He agreed that they did. Thus encouraged, Doña Inéz went on to cover the hazards of ruts, dust, brigands and heatstroke. She was just embarking on a comprehensive condemnation of all the inns she had ever stayed in, when the salón door opened again. Harry glanced round and then, as he set eyes on the newcomer, all other thoughts went out of his head.

Elena paused on the threshold, hoping that her composure wouldn’t desert her now. Concha was right; it was important to play along for a while. Her gaze swept the room in distaste. With their dark clothing her relatives reminded her of nothing so much as a gathering of crows around their prey. They had shown about the same amount of compassion too. Then she noticed the tall figure standing beside Aunt Inéz. The man had his back to her but, as the conversation died down around him, he glanced round to find the reason.

Elena caught her breath, recognising him at once. However, that former fleeting glance through the window hadn’t done him justice; to begin with he made all the other men in the room look short, even her uncle. The lean, broad-shouldered frame suggested both strength and energy and was shown off to advantage by formal evening dress. It was severe, almost austere, and a perfect complement for his dark hair. The face, which she had formerly thought arresting, was rather more than that, like the cool grey eyes that were now surveying her steadily. The effect was to create an odd fluttering sensation in the pit of her stomach.

The silence intensified. Then her uncle stepped forward. ‘Lord Henry, may I present my niece Elena?’

Harry stared, taking in the slender and willowy figure in the deep red gown. Ebony hair framed a face whose sculptural beauty was accentuated by a complexion that reminded him of ivory and roses. Her brown eyes were flecked with purest amber and, just then, expressive of some strong emotion that resisted precise identification. Curiosity stirred. Then, recollecting his manners, he made his bow.

She returned a graceful curtsey. ‘I’m delighted to meet you, my lord.’

‘The pleasure is mine,’ he replied, with perfect sincerity.

‘May I ask what brings you to Madrid?’

He summarised his mission briefly. ‘Your uncle has kindly offered his assistance.’

‘Then I hope his enquiries will be successful.’

‘Thank you, although after all this time I dare not hold out great hope.’

‘Even a little hope is better than none,’ she replied.

‘You are right, of course.’ He smiled wryly. ‘But enough about business for now. Tell me something of yourself. For instance, do you reside here with your uncle or are you just visiting?’

Before she could reply, Doña Inéz interposed. ‘My niece is visiting for a short while only.’

Beneath the irritation caused by that unwarranted interruption, he was conscious of a stab of something much like disappointment. ‘What a pity.’

‘It is a necessary deprivation for us all,’ said Doña Inéz, ‘since, in a few days’ time, she is to enter a convent and commence her novitiate.’

Elena made no reply, although her dark eyes revealed a brief flash of anger, then were swiftly veiled.

Harry was dumbfounded. The very idea that such a lovely young woman should become a nun seemed absurd—more than absurd, a criminal waste. Then he reflected that customs were different here, and that if she had such a vocation she should be entitled to follow it. Besides, it was none of his business.

‘In that case,’ he replied, ‘I wish you well on your chosen path.’

Elena looked up and again he caught that flash of anger in her eyes. However, her face remained otherwise impassive.

‘Thank you. That is most kind.’

The smooth tone held an inflection that was much like irony, and in spite of himself his curiosity mounted. He would have liked to pursue it, but not in Doña Inéz’s company. Unfortunately she showed no sign of moving away. The woman was acting like a strict dueña, almost as though she were mounting guard over her niece, though goodness only knew what she thought might happen in a room full of people.

Just then dinner was announced and Don Manuel suggested he might like to take Doña Inéz in. Good manners dictated gracious acquiescence. To his chagrin he found himself seated next to the lady at table as well. Elena took her place opposite, beside Don Fernando.

The conversation at table ranged over various topics, all of them innocuous. Everyone was perfectly civil and nothing could have been more refined than their manners, but Harry became aware of something rather different underneath, an undercurrent of tension that he couldn’t pin down. He reminded himself again that it was none of his business, that he had come here to obtain proof of Jamie’s death. Interference in family politics was no part of his plan.

After the meal, when the ladies had withdrawn, and the gentlemen had settled down to their port and cigars, the conversation turned to other matters. Harry listened politely, though in truth his mind was preoccupied with his quest rather than the current political situation. It was only the mention of Elena’s name that drew his attention squarely back to the company.

‘… and so, after we have seen her safely admitted to the convent, I must return to my estates,’ said Don Fernando. ‘There are matters requiring my attention.’

Their host nodded. ‘Of course. It was good of you to take the time to come at all.’

‘I felt it to be my duty.’

‘A duty we all share,’ said Don Esteban. ‘The restoration of our family honour is dear to us all. A life of reflection and piety will atone for sin.’

Harry’s glass paused in mid-air and he shot a quizzical glance at the speaker. Don Manuel intercepted it.

‘You are no doubt shocked, my lord, that sin should be mentioned in the same context as my niece.’

‘I was surprised,’ Harry admitted, wondering what possible sin so lovely a creature could have committed. He could think of a few that men might want to commit with her, but such a thing would be unthinkable for a highborn young woman and one so zealously guarded.

‘My niece’s story is not one that we would wish to be generally known.’ Don Manuel eyed him keenly. ‘I am sure we may rely on your discretion.’

‘Of course.’

‘When Elena was eighteen she was betrothed to a nobleman of high standing, indeed one of the highest in the land. Unfortunately it was during a period in the war when the action intensified. My brother-in-law, her father, was killed by enemy soldiers. His death fired a young girl’s imagination with misplaced patriotic zeal and she ran off and joined a guerrilla band.’

Harry regarded him in genuine amazement. Whatever he might have imagined it wasn’t that, but then Elena seemed to defy convention in every way.

‘War affects people strangely,’ he replied, mentally including himself in that category.

Don Manuel nodded. ‘Many unfortunate events occur in times of conflict and, goodness knows, our country has seen enough of such things. They leave a bitter legacy.’

‘Yes, they do.’ Harry felt his gut tighten. The topic came too close to home, reviving memories he’d tried to bury.

‘Elena’s sisters were models of exemplary conduct. They were originally intended for marriage but, after their father’s death, they chose to enter a convent. She did neither of those things, electing instead to live with a group of men like any common drab.’

Harry barely managed to conceal his astonishment. It seemed quite incongruous to think of Elena in such a role. He had seen quite a few common drabs in his time—the army had its camp followers—but she didn’t resemble them in any way.

‘In fighting for her country her role was perhaps unusual,’ he replied, ‘but surely not dishonourable.’

‘For a woman to take up arms is unnatural. That she should live among men in that way is utterly shameless.’

Harry was tempted to probe further. Had Elena taken a lover from among the guerrilla band? It was entirely possible and yet it didn’t seem consistent with what he had seen. She was courteous and friendly but there was not the least hint of flirtatiousness in her manner. All the same, he knew better than to ask. Instead he shifted the focus of the conversation a little.

‘What of her betrothed?’

‘When he learned of her shame he ended the betrothal.’

‘I see.’

‘Elena remained with the guerrillas for two years.’ Don Manuel made a vague gesture with his hand. ‘Of course, there is no possibility of marriage for her now, and she cannot be permitted to live as a single woman. Such a thing is unheard of. The only honourable course is for her to enter a convent.’

‘We have arranged it,’ said Don Fernando.

Harry’s fingers tightened on the stem of his glass. ‘Am I to understand that Doña Elena is not in accord with this plan?’

‘She is a wilful and stubborn young woman who has erred most grievously,’ Don Fernando replied. ‘It is the responsibility of her family to put a stop to such folly. The convent will do the rest. It is a closed order and a strict one. From now on she will lead a life of piety and prayer away from the eyes of the world.’

Don Esteban nodded. ‘The discipline will be highly beneficial and will help her to atone for her behaviour. In time she will come to realise that our decision was made in her own best interests.’

Harry’s jaw tightened. There were many things he could have said, indeed wanted to say, but he bit them back even though it went against the grain. The affair was none of his business. Things were done differently here and much stricter controls exerted on young women of good family. Nor was it uncommon for daughters to be given to God, with or without their consent. The latter proposition had always rankled with him. Entry into the religious life through choice was one thing; entry under compulsion was quite another. To use a convent as a means of incarceration was indefensible in his eyes, and he pitied any young woman caught in that situation.

‘The family are gathered to witness the ceremony of admission,’ Don Esteban went on. ‘When it has taken place we shall all breathe easier.’

Don Fernando nodded. ‘Indeed we shall.’

The conversation remained with Harry long after he had left the company and retired to his room. More than ever their plan seemed like a criminal act even though, in the eyes of the law, it was perfectly legal. It was certainly a criminal waste. He had no illusions about why it was happening in spite of all the pious cant he had heard that evening. In the eyes of her family Elena had become a liability and they meant to put her quietly away for good. It was a harsh penalty for something that, presumably, had been a matter of conscience. However, war spawned many atrocities.

Harry shut his eyes, trying not to think about Badajoz, but the darkness was suddenly filled with flames and gunfire and the shouts of drunken soldiers—British soldiers. For three days they had run amok in an orgy of murder, arson, rapine and plunder. Filthy, blood-stained, crazy with drink and consumed with greed, they spared none. When their officers tried to intervene the mob turned on them too. He swallowed hard, feeling sweat start on the palms of his hands, once again watching helplessly as a man fell under a rain of blows from the butt ends of muskets, the scene backlit by the ruddy glow of burning buildings. And in one of those buildings was Belén….

Work held the memories at bay most of the time, along with the social round. For a while it was possible to forget. It was only when he lay in bed at night that the memories revived, often in terrifying dreams. Time had helped, of course, but had never entirely eradicated them. And then fate had taken a hand and brought him back to Spain….

He turned over and thumped the pillow hard. In spite of everything, he had promised Ross to do all in his power to find the proof they needed about Jamie’s death. But what if the proof he sought couldn’t be found? What if Sanchez was dead now? Harry pushed the thought away, unwilling to contemplate the thought of failure. Too much hung in the balance. He had a job to do and past demons couldn’t be allowed to get in the way.

Chapter Three

It was pleasantly warm in the garden, the morning air scented by late roses in the borders adjoining the high walls. Elena scanned the latter covertly. Without a rope or a ladder there was no way to scale them; the gate that led into the lane beyond was made of iron-studded oak and kept securely locked. In spite of its shrubs and flowering beds and attractive fountain, the garden was as much a prison as the house.

She had carefully reconnoitred the property as far as she had been able, making a note of all doors and windows. Concha had filled in the gaps, assessing those areas frequented by the servants.

‘All the downstairs windows are barred, Doña Elena. The only possibility is to use one of the bedrooms, preferably the one that looks out over the lane yonder.’ Concha jerked her head towards the garden wall that bordered the narrow roadway in question.

‘My thought exactly.’

‘A pair of knotted sheets should serve. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time, would it?’

‘Hardly.’

‘The only problem is that the Englishman is currently using that bedroom.’

The Englishman! Elena bit her lip. Heaven knew she had met enough of them, but this man was different somehow. Everything about him proclaimed noble birth and education, but it was more than that. He lingered in the mind, conjuring all manner of unexpected and disturbing thoughts. Of course, such a man would attract the attention of women. It shocked her to find that she was not immune, after all. With an effort she forced herself to concentrate on what Concha was saying.

‘We’ll find a way. We have to.’

Elena nodded. ‘Yes, we do.’

‘I made sure to pack all the necessary clothing before we came. I put it in the bottom of my own box. I thought it less likely to be searched. The weapons are concealed in the usual place.’

‘Well done. What would I do without you, Concha?’

The maid regarded her steadily. ‘I think the boot is on the other foot. But for your honoured father my mother would have hanged and I would have perished. His compassion saved us both and gave us the chance of a future.’

‘Some future,’ said Elena. ‘Look where your loyalty has brought you. Your mother is dead and you …’

‘We have been through many trials together, you and I, and we will come through this. After all, we have escaped captivity before, and we have been threatened by experts, no?’

‘True.’

‘Remember El Lobo and his bandit thugs, to say nothing of the French?’

‘How could I forget?’

‘Well, then, how should your relatives intimidate you now?’

Elena grinned. ‘You’re right, of course. I …’

She broke off as her companion gave her arm a warning squeeze. Darting a glance along the path, she fully expected to see one of her aunts approaching. Instead it was a very different figure that hove into sight, a lean and virile figure whose presence caused her pulse to quicken. She drew a deep breath, collecting herself. Then she rose to greet him.

‘Lord Henry. What a pleasant surprise.’

Surveying her now Harry thought he could say the same. The blue morning gown became her well, emphasising the curves of her figure and enhancing her warm colouring and the lustrous coils of dark hair. This close proximity did nothing to abate the admiration he had felt at their first meeting, on the contrary. London had its share of beauties, but none who held his attention and certainly none who had such a very kissable mouth. She aroused sensations he’d imagined long dead. He caught himself there. This woman had no interest in him and anyway she was destined for a convent. All thoughts about her physical charms were completely inappropriate. Feeling distinctly guilty now, he adopted an expression of polite attention.

‘It seemed too fine a day to remain indoors. I hope I’m not disturbing you.’

‘Oh, no, not at all.’

‘This is a pleasant garden,’ he went on. ‘I don’t wonder that you should choose to sit out here.’

‘I prefer to be out of doors as a rule.’

‘So do I.’ He paused, unwilling to lose her company but not wishing to overstep the bounds of propriety either. He was well aware that the place was visible from the house and that if he invited Elena to sit with him it might well be misconstrued. Something more subtle was required. ‘I wonder if you would care to walk a little way.’

Elena hesitated but then inclined her head in acquiescence. ‘As you wish. Concha, you will accompany us.’

Harry hid a grimace. The maid was entirely de trop but, under the circumstances, an inescapable encumbrance.

As they set off Elena was careful to keep a foot of clear space between them. Concha fell in behind at a discreet distance. If anyone were to observe them from the house it was all above reproach. They strolled a little way in silence, though from time to time Elena shot a sideways glance at her companion. His proximity made her feel self-conscious—aware of his closeness to her fingertips, a feeling so unaccustomed that she felt unwontedly awkward.

‘I regret the need for a chaperone,’ she said then. ‘It isn’t because I don’t trust you.’

He smiled. ‘I’m glad to hear it.’

‘It’s just that I must be seen to observe the required forms of behaviour. My aunts …’

‘You don’t have to explain. I understand perfectly.’

She gave him another sideways look. ‘Do you?’

Unwilling to reveal his knowledge about her past, he slid over it. ‘Your admission to the convent is to take place very soon, I collect.’

She nodded. ‘My uncle has arranged it.’

The words jarred and aroused a sense of impotent anger. Suddenly he wanted to find out more, to hear Elena’s side of the matter.

‘And how do you feel about the new life you are about to enter?’

‘As a man might feel on learning that he is to be imprisoned for the rest of his life.’

The words confirmed what he had suspected from the conversation at table the previous evening. It made the implications all the more unpalatable.

‘Then you have no vocation?’

‘No vocation, or even a belief in God any more. However, that makes no difference to my family.’

He heard the suppressed anger in her tone, saw it in her eyes. He could well understand it too. More than ever the whole business seemed criminal.

‘I’m truly sorry. Is there nothing that can be done to change their minds?’

‘They are quite resolved and will not bend.’

‘They might show some compassion.’

‘They have none. I am twenty-three years old, unmarried and with no prospect of being so. I am therefore a liability they mean to be rid of, and a convent is the ideal place. The method is respectable, discreet and permanent.’

He knew she was right and, even though it was none of his affair, he could not help but feel pity for her predicament and disgust for the perpetrators.

Elena lifted her chin. ‘I think that you have heard quite enough of my woes. Let us speak of something else.’

‘Certainly.’

‘Tell me about your brother, the one whose death has occasioned this visit. I think you must have been very fond of him to travel so great a distance.’

‘Jamie was the brother I looked up to most. He was a hero to me when we were younger. I wanted to be just like him.’ He smiled wryly. ‘It always seemed like a big pair of shoes to fill.’

The smile, albeit transitory, suggested hidden warmth behind the cool English reserve. She sensed there was more here than met the eye and was intrigued.

‘Have you other brothers and sisters?’

‘Two sisters and three brothers, although Jamie is gone now and the youngest, Edward, died at Waterloo.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘It was a terrible blow to all the family, but our father took it hardest. He’d already lost Jamie, you see, and when he received the news of Edward’s demise … well, it affected the balance of his mind.’

‘It must have been a terrible time for all concerned.’

He sighed. ‘It was. Because his body had not been found there was always a little gleam of hope that, somehow, a miracle might happen and Jamie might come back but, as time went on, hope began to fade. Eventually we had to face the facts, of course.’

‘But you have not given up hope of obtaining the proof you need.’

He shook his head. ‘No, I have not. As for the rest, it’s still hard to accept. I always thought I would know if he were really dead, that I’d feel it in my heart. I suppose that was just a form of denial. A foolish one at that.’

‘Not foolish at all, only human. There is not a day goes by that I don’t think about my father.’

The empathy evident in her look and tone touched something deep inside him. These were things he had never discussed with anyone, until now. Being accustomed to keeping his stronger emotions out of sight this unwonted openness made him feel exposed and yet, paradoxically, comforted too. It also felt like dangerous ground. He needed to return to a surer footing.

‘I hope I haven’t come on a wild-goose chase.’

‘I think you will discover the truth eventually.’

‘I hope so.’ Harry sighed. ‘Besides, it is only just that the estate should pass to the rightful heir. I need to establish who that is.’

‘Of course.’

Discovering the facts relating to Jamie’s death was only part of the problem, but Harry knew it would not be fitting to discuss such intimate details here. All the same, it was surprisingly easy to talk to Elena. Disarmingly easy. It behoved him to be careful. Whatever his view of the matter she was forbidden fare in every way. What might be regarded as acceptable attentions to a lady in England might well be regarded as familiarity in Spain where interpretation was much stricter. When marriages were arranged here it was not unusual if the bride and groom didn’t meet until their wedding day.

That thought engendered others and he wondered what manner of man Elena’s betrothed had been that he would abandon a woman in that way. Did he know what he was losing? Had they even met? He could hardly ask her, but all the same his curiosity increased.

‘Tell me about your home,’ she went on. ‘In what part of England does it lie?’

‘The family seat is at Castonbury Park in Derbyshire. That’s roughly in the middle of the country.’

‘The Montague name is an old and respected one, I think.’

‘Our line goes back to the Norman Conquest. One of our ancestors came over with Duke William and was rewarded for his service with lands in England.’

‘Do you live in a castle, then?’

‘No, although there has been a house at Castonbury since the Middle Ages. The original one changed over time as bits were added to provide more living space. Eventually it was demolished to be replaced with the present house.’

‘It must be very grand.’

He smiled faintly. ‘Grand enough, I suppose.’

‘Do you live there all the time?’

‘No, I reside in London for the most part. My work requires it. I visit Castonbury only occasionally now.’

‘Your work is with the diplomatic service.’

‘That’s right. It’s how I was able to obtain letters of introduction to your uncle and so begin my investigations about Jamie.’

‘I wish you good fortune with that.’

‘Thank you. I …’ He broke off, seeing the familiar figure of Doña Inéz advancing down the path towards them.

Elena followed his gaze and her smile faded. Her aunt’s face suggested stern disapproval, but then it was habitual for her to look that way. Composing her own expression to impassivity, Elena waited.

Doña Inéz acknowledged Lord Henry with a curt nod and then turned to her niece. ‘You must come into the house directly, Elena. Sister Maria and Sister Angela are come to give you instruction. They have received special dispensation to do so and should not be kept waiting.’

Elena’s jaw tightened and she fought down the urge to refuse point blank and consign both the holy sisters and her aunt to perdition. However, to do so would be a serious mistake. She must continue to play along for now.

‘Very well,’ she replied. ‘I will come.’ Turning to her companion she added, ‘I hope you will excuse me, Lord Henry.’

‘Of course.’ He bowed politely, then watched the two women walk away. More than ever he felt sorry for Elena’s predicament, but unfortunately there was nothing he could do about it.

Elena maintained her impassive expression for the next hour as the two elderly nuns schooled her in preparation for entry into the convent. She kept her gaze lowered lest they should read the anger in her eyes. This wasn’t going to happen. Concha was right. Somehow they would find a way out.

Meanwhile, the nuns would almost certainly report back to her aunt so a meek and quiet demeanour seemed the best policy for now. If everyone thought she was becoming resigned to her fate, so much the better. Thus she sat without comment through a homily about the sins of pride and disobedience and the need for repentance and reparation through a life of abstinence and prayer. When at length it ended there was a detailed explanation of what would be required on admission to the holy order. That was followed by a period of compulsory prayer in which the nuns expressed the hope that she might be guided back to the path of righteousness for the salvation of her immortal soul. Elena bit her tongue. They knew, because her aunt had evidently told them, that her niece had no vocation for the religious life, but it seemed not to trouble them a whit. So far as they were concerned Elena was a fallen woman. All that mattered now was that she should comply with the wishes of her family and quietly disappear from public view. If they ever got her within the convent gates that would most assuredly happen. She gritted her teeth. Over her dead body …

When eventually it ended and she returned to her room she sent for Concha. The maid eyed her sympathetically.

‘I thought they’d never let you go. What could the old crones find to say that took so long?’

‘Don’t ask. I don’t want to insult your intelligence by repeating it.’

‘What now, Doña Elena?’

‘Can you get out of the house on some pretext or other?’

‘Of course.’

‘We need to purchase horses and have them in readiness somewhere close at hand. When we make our escape it will have to be fast and we daren’t risk taking the animals from my uncle’s stable.’

Concha grinned. ‘Leave it to me.’

‘All that remains, then, is to choose the hour. By the time these pious hypocrites realise what has happened we will be long gone.’

When Don Manuel returned home later that afternoon he sought Harry at once and found him ensconced in the library. On seeing his host enter, Harry laid aside the book he had been reading and got to his feet. Don Manuel smiled.

‘I have news which I hope will help you, Lord Henry.’

‘You have word of my brother?’

‘His name was indeed known to the Intelligence Service here. It seems that he was highly regarded by those with whom he had contact.’

Harry was quite able to believe it. Whatever Jamie had done, he had done well. ‘Did your contact know anything about my brother’s mission?’

‘Only that it was highly sensitive. However, I did discover that the Spanish cell at that time was run by a man called Pablo Garrido. Among those who worked for him was Xavier Sanchez.’

‘The person who was with my brother when the accident occurred. He must know exactly what happened. I should like above all things to speak with him and Garrido.’

‘The whereabouts of Sanchez are not known,’ replied Don Manuel. ‘As for Garrido, he retired from the service after the war and returned to his home in Seville. If you seek him you will have a long and dangerous journey.’

‘No matter. It’s a chance and I must follow it.’

‘Then I think you will wish to depart quite soon.’

‘Tomorrow,’ said Harry. ‘The sooner I set off, the sooner I may learn what happened to my brother and obtain the proof I need.’

‘I anticipated as much. For that reason I have prepared this.’ His host took a small packet of documents from his coat pocket. ‘It contains a map which I think you will find useful, and a list of the most reputable inns in the larger towns along your route.’ He gave a deprecating smile. ‘I fear I cannot vouch for any of the other establishments you may find.’

Harry accepted the packet gratefully. ‘I can’t thank you enough for your help in this matter.’

‘It is my pleasure,’ replied Don Manuel.

‘I shall travel faster if I ride. My manservant will accompany me and we’ll take only the essentials with us. As for the rest …’

‘I shall arrange for your carriage and the rest of your luggage to be returned to Santander. From there it will be a simple matter to arrange the necessary transportation to England.’

‘That would be most kind. My driver and footman are reliable fellows but they don’t speak Spanish.’

‘I will provide all assistance to expedite the matter,’ said Don Manuel.

‘One day I hope to be able to return the favour.’

His host smiled. ‘If ever I need a favour I will know where to come.’

After his companion had left him, Harry paced the library floor and tried to order his thoughts. The evidence he needed was out there somewhere. Garrido would be able to shed light on Jamie’s mission and might even know where Sanchez could be found. That alone would make the journey worthwhile. Before he left he must write a letter to Giles and apprise him of developments. He resisted the urge to write to their father; it would be wrong to raise hopes in that quarter until he knew more. Given their parent’s fragile mental state it would be downright cruel. It might unbalance him even further, something Harry didn’t want to be responsible for. He knew he could trust to Giles’s discretion. He too might judge it better to keep quiet until Harry had spoken to Garrido. In spite of the obstacles still in his path, Harry experienced a sense of optimism. As Don Manuel had said, the journey to Seville would be long and arduous, but now that there was even a particle of hope, it must be undertaken.

Glancing around his attention fixed on a large desk across the room. He could already see ink and blotter so the chances were good that there would also be notepaper. A swift search revealed it to be the case. Accordingly he sat down and began to write his letter.

He was so preoccupied with his task that he failed to hear the door open. It was only when he heard a familiar voice that he realised he wasn’t alone.

‘I hope I’m not disturbing you, my lord. I just wanted to return this book but I can come back later if …’

He turned quickly to see Elena standing on the threshold. Her presence was so completely unexpected that it took him aback. Moreover, she had changed her gown for an elegant sprigged muslin creation which looked particularly fetching. Privately he thought she looked good enough to eat. With an effort he gathered his wits and rose quickly.

‘No, you’re not disturbing me.’ He gestured to the shelves along the walls. ‘Please, feel free.’

‘Thank you.’ She crossed the room and replaced the volume, then turned towards him. ‘I saw my uncle return to the house earlier. Has he made any progress in his enquiries about your brother?’

‘He brought good news.’ He gave her the gist of the conversation.

Her heartbeat quickened and, as she listened, the germ of an idea began to grow. ‘Then you will be leaving very soon, my lord.’

‘Tomorrow, early.’

‘I see.’

Harry regarded her steadily. ‘I wish that you had news as good to tell me.’

‘Alas, I do not.’

‘When do you …’

‘In two days’ time.’

‘That soon?’

‘My family is eager to see the matter concluded. I will do what I must, my lord.’

‘Yes.’ He didn’t make any attempt at consolation; nothing he could say would be of comfort to her now, given what was about to happen, and she certainly didn’t need platitudes. It sickened him to think of any young woman being forced into something so contrary to her desire, and saddened him to know he was powerless to prevent it.

‘I am glad that you have some news at last,’ she said. ‘I hope your journey will prove to be worth the effort.’

She smiled and he felt his throat tighten. In two days’ time she would be lost to the world for good, her youth and beauty shut away. He could only hope that, in time, she might somehow become reconciled to her lot, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t imagine how. His gaze followed her to the door. Then it opened and she was gone.

He sighed and returned to his letter. When it was finished he sanded and blotted the page and then sealed the document before writing the direction. His driver could take it back when he left. It would doubtless be just as fast as sending the missive any other way.

Having dealt with that, he directed his thoughts into other channels. First he needed to speak to Jack and make arrangements for the journey. They could lead a spare horse apiece to carry what they required. Saddlebags and a couple of small boxes would suffice. They’d need provisions, of course. Where possible they could make use of inns along the way; where it wasn’t they would camp. After years in the army it wouldn’t be any hardship. If it meant that he would finally learn the truth, Harry was prepared to take on whatever came.

Elena hurried off to her room, her mind buzzing with the details of that last conversation. As Lord Henry outlined his plans her own had finally taken shape. The result was mingled hope and excitement. If it worked she would be free. It had to work; she couldn’t afford doubt or fear. If she hoped to have a future, then this opportunity must be seized. On reaching the safety of her chamber she lost no time in communicating her plan to Concha. Her companion listened with quiet and smiling approval.

‘We have the opportunity now, Doña Elena. The rest is up to us.’

Elena nodded, feeling anticipation rising. For the first time since entering this house she felt real hope. She was more than ready for the coming adventure. Goodness alone knew what her unwitting accomplice was going to say when he found out; she would cross that bridge later. All that mattered now was escape and she knew exactly how it was to be done.

Chapter Four

The following morning Elena rose before dawn and dressed for her role. Surveying herself in the mirror afterwards she couldn’t repress a smile. Her aunts would have a fit if they could see her now, her figure shamelessly displayed by the masculine attire. It felt good though, comfortable and familiar after the restrictions of female clothing. She checked the priming of her pistol and then thrust the weapon into her belt beside her knife. The smaller blade slid into her boot. Then she sat down on the edge of the bed to wait, turning over in her mind every last detail of the plan.

Minutes crawled by like hours until three discreet taps on the door announced Concha’s return. Quickly Elena unlocked the door and let her in.

‘Well?’

‘The horses are ready and waiting, Doña Elena. I’ve packed the saddlebags with a change of clothes and a few other necessities. I couldn’t risk taking too much out of the house with me. We’ll have to buy provisions later.’

Elena nodded. ‘Did you meet any of the other servants?’

‘No, but they will be stirring soon. We need to make haste.’

‘You’ve done well. Get changed now while I find out what’s happening.’

Concha nodded and began to strip off her gown. Elena went to the door and, after listening carefully, opened it a crack. From the end of the corridor she could just make out the murmur of men’s voices. Then a door opened further down the passageway.

‘Is that everything?’

‘Aye, my lord. Groom’s bringing t’horses round directly. I’ll take these bags down now.’

A few moments later the English servant went past carrying saddlebags. Elena frowned; she had mistakenly assumed that Lord Henry would continue his journey by coach but of course it was quicker to ride. Easier too, given the state of the roads. She had no leisure to consider the implications because, as the servant disappeared from view, his master hove into sight and he was unmistakably dressed for riding. Elena’s heartbeat quickened. She could only hope he would forgive what she was about to do. When he had gone she turned back to Concha.

‘Now.’

The two women left the room and, closing the door silently after them, hurried along the passage to the chamber so recently vacated. Once inside they locked the door after them. Concha dragged the sheets off the bed. While she tied them together Elena went to the window and peered out. Then she breathed a sigh of relief. The lane below was deserted. Just now all attention would be on the front of the house from whence Lord Henry was leaving. Her aunts had said their farewells the previous evening and Don Fernando and Don Esteban never rose before ten. Her uncle would likely be the only one abroad because courtesy demanded he be present to see his guest depart. With a pounding heart she turned to her companion.

‘Come on, Concha. It’s now or never.’

They fastened one end of the makeshift rope to the central mullion and flung the rest out of the window. It snaked away down the wall and stopped a few feet clear of the bottom. Elena climbed over the sill and then, taking a firm grip on the sheet, began her descent. It was only a short distance to jump at the end and then she was standing in the lane. Moments later Concha joined her. They exchanged grins and then, together, they ran.

Another two minutes brought them to the waiting horses. Of necessity they had to keep to a steady pace until they were clear of the city and Elena had to resist the urge to look over her shoulder every five minutes. There was no reason to fear pursuit just yet. With luck it would be hours before their flight was discovered. Enquiries would reveal that they were seen heading west, but once clear of Madrid they would circle round and turn south instead. After that they would have to ride fast. Fortunately they were well used to that. If they could throw off their pursuers for long enough her family would likely wash their hands of the whole business. She and Concha would go to England. It was going to be a long and dangerous journey but, if things turned out as she’d planned, they wouldn’t have to do it alone.

Harry and Jack made good progress over the course of the day and, by evening, had covered about twenty miles. It might have been more but they’d stopped at midday to rest the horses, and thereafter had deliberately slackened the pace. With so many miles to cover it made no sense to push their mounts too hard, especially not in the heat of the day. Harry was glad it was not yet summer so the midday heat would not be too fierce.

They made their camp by a stream, and having attended to the animals’ needs, turned to their own. Don Manuel had been generous in providing them with provisions so they wouldn’t need to concern themselves with that for a while. Afterwards they could stop off en route to restock, even hunt if necessary.

‘Did you ever visit Seville before, my lord?’

‘No, but I understand it’s a beautiful city.’

‘I heard that too. It’ll be interesting to find out.’ Jack smiled wryly. ‘T’army didn’t allow time for much sightseeing.’

‘No, it didn’t.’

‘When I left Spain after t’war I never thought as how I’d be back one day.’

‘Nor I.’

‘Strange how things work out, isn’t it?’

Harry sighed. ‘Very strange. If there is a divine plan I’m damned if I know what it is.’

‘Well, I suppose if we don’t want local bandits to be part of t’plan we’d best keep a watch. I’ll take first one if you want to get some sleep, my lord.’

‘Very well. You can wake me at …’ Harry broke off, listening intently. Then he looked at his companion. ‘Do you hear it?’

‘Aye, my lord. Riders, coming this way.’

‘They could be harmless, but keep your rifle handy until we find out.’

Harry scanned the road, staring intently into the gathering twilight. While banditry was rife he would have expected to be further from the city before experiencing any such problems. Most likely the two horsemen were just travellers like themselves.

‘They’re slowing down,’ said Jack. ‘Must’ve smelled t’smoke from our fire.’

‘Probably.’

The horses came into view round a bend in the road. There were only two. Harry let out the breath he had been holding.

‘Not a serious problem, I think.’

‘Aye, they may just ride on, my lord.’

‘Perhaps. Best to be sure though.’

‘As you say.’

However, as they drew nearer the riders turned off the road and approached the camp. Harry frowned.

‘Wait. Do they look familiar to you?’

‘Funny you should say that, my lord. I was just thinking t’same th …’ Jack broke off. Then as the riders reined in his eyes widened. ‘Blood and sand! What in hell’s name are they doing here?’

Being temporarily robbed of speech, Harry vouchsafed no reply. He thought he knew the answer already, and the ramifications were deeply disturbing. Mingled with that was another sensation that he didn’t want to examine too closely.

‘Looks like a mort o’ trouble, my lord.’

Harry found his voice. ‘Indeed.’

As far as he could see, trouble didn’t begin to cover it. Reading his expression correctly, Jack nodded.

‘Best take a firm line wi’ ‘em, I reckon.’

‘Absolutely.’

Harry watched as the two women dismounted and then, grim-faced, went to meet them.

Elena handed her horse’s reins to Concha and, taking a deep breath, watched the advancing figure. When she had plotted the details of their escape from Madrid her imagination had conveniently glossed over this scene. In those hopeful plans Lord Henry was most sympathetic and immediately acceded to her request. Now that the reality was upon her, she felt far less confident. In the first place Lord Henry looked distinctly forbidding, and, in the second, much larger than she remembered. His servant was no weakling either. He would do what his master ordered. She licked dry lips. What if his master decided to take her straight back? What if she had been entirely mistaken in him? Sweat started on the palms of her hands.

Further speculation was impossible because he was in front of her now, every last intimidating inch of him. Under the weight of that penetrating gaze any coherent thought became difficult. It swept her from head to toe, creating a frisson that was only partly to do with fear. Then it returned to her face and remained there. He came straight to the point.

‘You’ve run away.’

‘Yes. I’m sorry to spring this on you, my lord, but I had no choice.’

The grey eyes were steely. ‘To spring what on me, exactly?’

Her heart pounded. ‘Concha and I want to travel with you.’ Seeing his expression she hurried on. ‘We are both accomplished riders, we both know how to take care of ourselves and we’re used to rough living.’

‘I dare say. All the same …’

‘We won’t slow you down and we won’t be a nuisance.’

‘You cannot seriously imagine …’

‘All we ask is the protection of your company until we reach England.’

‘England! Now, look …’

‘I have a married sister who lives in Hertfordshire. She will help us, only first we have to get there.’

‘I’m not going to England, Elena, not for months yet.’

‘Of course not. First we will help you to discover the truth about your brother. Then we will go.’

‘Elena, you must see that it isn’t possible.’

There it was again, the familiar use of her name, yet it didn’t seem in any way disrespectful on his lips. Rather it afforded a glimmer of hope.

‘I will not go back, my lord.’

‘I wasn’t suggesting that you should, but nor is it fitting that you should attempt such a journey.’

‘If you do not help us, then we shall go on alone and face what comes.’

‘It’s too dangerous. Quite apart from the vagaries of the weather and the numerous natural obstacles you are likely to encounter, the mountains are full of brigands.’

‘It would be less dangerous with four,’ she replied. ‘Concha and I both shoot well.’

Harry felt winded, as though he had fallen from a great height and then landed between a rock and a hard place. Desperately he tried to marshal his thoughts. Elena wouldn’t go back and he didn’t blame her for it, but neither could he let her go on alone. Every masculine instinct forbade it. Yet the implications of their going on together were fraught with difficulty too. No matter what she said to the contrary, he would be responsible for the two women. It was a burden of care he could do without. Besides, his track record in that area was abysmal. Had he not already failed the woman who had trusted him most? Had he not also failed the man who had been his best friend? Their trust in him had been misplaced and both were dead. His jaw tightened. If he abandoned Elena and Concha now he would be adding two more to that score because they would likely perish before they ever saw Seville, never mind England. Conscience dictated that he couldn’t let that happen.

‘All right. You travel with us, but it will be on the condition that you take orders from me.’

‘Of course.’

‘I mean it, Elena. All our lives may depend on it.’

She nodded. ‘Very well.’

‘You will take your turn to keep watch, gather wood for the fire and cook when necessary. You will also look after your own mounts. Is that understood?’

Her expression was the epitome of meekness. ‘Clearly, my lord.’

‘Good.’

‘I’ll help Concha unsaddle our horses, then.’ She turned away and then paused, glancing back over her shoulder. ‘Thank you. You won’t regret this, I swear it.’

Harry wished he could believe that.

As the two women led the horses away, Jack came to stand beside his master, regarding the scene quizzically.

‘They’re not leaving right way, then, my lord?’

‘They’re not leaving at all.’

Jack stared at him. ‘Does that mean what I think it does?’

‘Yes.’

‘Er, right.’

Harry’s eyes glinted. ‘You have some difficulty with that, perhaps?’

‘Oh, no, my lord, none at all.’

Chapter Five

Elena lay on her back looking up at the stars. For the first time in weeks she felt a real sense of optimism and contentment. She and Concha would get to England and they would have a future. Life was looking better than it had for a long time. They were going to have to tread warily around Lord Henry Montague for a while though. As she had hoped, he had done the gentlemanly thing. In that respect she had not mistaken her man. All the same it was clear that he wasn’t overjoyed about having two women along. No doubt he feared they would be a burden. He would learn the error of such thoughts in due course. She smiled to herself in the darkness.

Now that his face had imposed itself on her mind she was in no hurry to dismiss it. He was unlike any man she had ever met and he aroused her curiosity. Although he had told her a little about his home and his family there was so much more she would have liked to know. Was he married? Was there a wife waiting for him in England? It seemed likely. Such a man could have his pick of all the noble ladies in the land, but he did not seem to be a womaniser. His heart would not be easily won, but the woman who succeeded in doing that would have it for ever. She sighed. Once she had dreamed of something similar but the dream was ashes now. Her former betrothed might have had one of the oldest and most respected names in Spain but he had turned out to have feet of clay as well. With hindsight she suspected he could never have made her happy no matter how prestigious their marriage. Happiness now was not concerned with such things, only with reaching England and finding some pleasant spot where she might live in peace.

Harry leaned against a tree, listening, but apart from the gentle chirring of cicadas and the occasional rustling sound that betrayed a small animal in the grass, he heard nothing to disturb him. Having relieved Jack of the watch some time ago he could have expected a lengthy period of tedium. As it was he had plenty to occupy his mind. When he had set out for Spain he had anticipated difficulties, but nothing of this magnitude. All his concerns were centred on the past; never in a thousand years would he have imagined the advent of Elena Ruiz or the thoughts her presence would evoke. Since Badajoz his contact with women had been restricted to polite social intercourse and that by choice. All thoughts of romance were gone along with Belén. War lent intensity to love; since the future was uncertain there was always a sense of wanting to make the most of the present. At the same time was the hope that there would be a future, a home, a family. They’d made so many plans …

A twig snapped behind him, jerking him out of thought. He swung round, pointing the rifle in the direction of the sound. Then a familiar figure stepped out of the darkness.

‘Elena. What are you doing here?’

‘I have come to relieve you of the watch, of course.’

‘Oh.’ For a second or two he was completely taken aback. Then, as the recollection of their earlier conversation returned, he felt a twinge of guilt. Temporary consternation had caused him to speak rather more harshly than he’d intended. Besides, leaving a woman alone in open country in the middle of the night went right against the grain. ‘There’s no need.’

‘I think there is.’

‘We can discuss it tomorrow. You must be tired. You’ve had a long ride today.’

‘So have you,’ she replied. ‘Besides, we made an agreement, did we not?’

‘Well, yes, but …’

‘Then I think we should start as we mean to go on.’

For a moment he was silent, then reluctantly nodded. ‘Very well.’

‘Concha will take over from me later.’

In spite of himself he smiled. ‘You seem to be well organised.’

‘I have always found it helpful. Then everyone knows where they stand.’

‘Yes, quite.’ He paused. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then.’

‘Goodnight, my lord.’

He turned to go, then checked mid-stride. ‘Since we’re going to be spending a lot of time together we can dispense with formalities. My name is Harry.’

With that he left her. For a moment Elena stood staring after him, then smiled to herself.

‘Goodnight, Harry,’ she murmured.

On his return to camp Harry rolled himself in his blanket and settled down to sleep. However, in spite of fatigue it proved elusive. The thought of Elena alone in the darkness didn’t help, but it was clear she wasn’t going to be dissuaded. She’d been part of a guerrilla group for two years so he knew he could trust her with the job. The ground rules had just been established: she and Concha were not expecting any preferential treatment. They were comrades-in-arms and nothing more. It was undoubtedly the right decision. If this new-formed partnership was to succeed there could be no suggestion of flirtation or anything untoward. It would be better for all concerned if he continued to think of Elena as a nun. Better and safer. He sighed. If only she’d looked the part it would be easier. As it was, the nun had beauty enough to waken the dead and was disarmingly easy to talk to. No matter how he looked at it, the future seemed beset with difficulty.

They broke camp early the next day to make the most of the cool morning hours. Harry eased his horse alongside Elena’s, eyeing it critically.

‘Is that beast from your uncle’s stable by any chance?’ he asked.

‘No, it would have been too risky. Concha purchased them from a livery stable. She made the owner an offer he couldn’t refuse.’

‘I’ll wager he was delighted.’

She laughed. ‘They’re not exactly bloodstock, are they? But then good looks aren’t everything.’

‘True enough.’ The horse was no longer uppermost in his mind; rather it was the way that laughter lit her face. It suited her. He thought he’d like to see her laugh more often. He couldn’t help noticing either that her current attire suited her very well too, confirming all his earlier notions about her figure. Nor did he miss the pistol in her belt.

‘I assume that isn’t for decoration.’

‘You assume correctly.’

‘Where did you learn to shoot?’

‘My father taught me. He thought it an essential part of my education.’ Elena gave him a sideways glance. ‘How do you come to speak Spanish so well?’

‘I spent many years in your country during the war.’

‘In the diplomatic service?’

‘In the army.’

She felt a sudden knot of tension in her stomach. ‘I see.’ Framing her next words carefully she went on, ‘You must have been involved in a lot of actions.’

‘Enough to last me a lifetime.’

‘War leaves a bitter legacy, does it not?’

The words were an uncanny echo of a former conversation, one that Harry would have preferred to forget.

‘It’s something I choose not to dwell on,’ he said.

She nodded. ‘Probably most of those who lived through it feel the same. Yet life can never be as it was before.’

‘We do the best we can.’

‘My sister has been lucky—Dolores, I mean. She has a good man and, now, three children.’

‘Her husband is English, I collect.’

‘Yes. He was a soldier too, a gentleman of means but not of high birth. They met at the start of the war. There was opposition to the match—Dolores was intended for a wealthy Spanish nobleman—but she wore our father down eventually. Our aunts never forgave either of them, of course.’

‘That doesn’t entirely surprise me.’

‘Are you married?’

‘No. I once hoped to be, but my fiancée died in the war.’

It was out almost before he’d realised, but then her question had caught him unawares. The answer awakened a host of painful memories. His jaw tightened. Belén had died because he’d failed her. If he’d followed his instinct and married her at once he could have taken her away and she would have been safe. The consequences of that decision haunted him still.

Elena surveyed him with quiet sympathy. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘So am I.’

She would have liked to know more but it was clearly dangerous ground and she had no wish to alienate him. He must have been very much in love. Indeed, it seemed he still grieved for the woman he had lost. She was aware of a sensation very like envy. Her betrothed had never cared like that, had not cared at all, in fact—only she hadn’t discovered it until she needed him most. The memory was bitter and she pushed it away. Harry Montague’s lady had been lucky in that respect at least.

‘My father died in the war.’

‘Your uncle mentioned the fact.’ As soon as the words were out he cursed mentally. He hadn’t meant to reveal any part of that private after-dinner conversation.

Elena kept her voice level. ‘Did he relate the circumstances?’

Harry hesitated, but decided it was pointless to lie. ‘Briefly, yes.’

‘I see.’ Although it was a difficult subject she was rather relieved that her uncle had been frank with him about her past. It would save further explanations. ‘Well, after what happened I could not stay in Badajoz.’

His heart leapt towards his throat. ‘Badajoz?’

‘Yes. My family home was there. Did not my uncle tell you that?’

‘No, he said only that it was soldiers who performed the outrage. I assumed they were French.’

‘Atrocities were not confined to any one military group,’ she replied. ‘It was British soldiers who ran amok in Badajoz and it was they who … Well, you know what happened.’

Harry shut his eyes for a moment to regain his equilibrium. He knew what had happened all right. Murder had stalked the streets then.

‘What occurred there is a matter of everlasting shame to my country,’ he replied.

‘I imagine you can understand why my family were so keen for me to enter a convent.’

‘Their view is not one I share.’

‘That is fortunate for me and I’m grateful.’

‘I wasn’t seeking your gratitude.’

‘You have it all the same.’ She shot him a sideways look. ‘I must apologise for embroiling you in my problems but in truth I could think of no other way out.’

‘I hope you won’t come to regret your decision. The journey is going to be long and hard.’

‘But the company is good.’

‘I’m glad that you think so.’ He could only hope she wouldn’t be disillusioned. Fortunately she knew relatively little about him and he wasn’t about to enlighten her further.

‘You would not have come on such a journey without a servant whom you trusted.’

Harry nodded. ‘You’re quite right. Jack Hawkes and I know each other well.’

‘He is a family retainer?’

‘Not exactly. He was once a member of my company. We served together during the war.’

‘And then you employed him afterwards.’

‘Just so.’

‘Had he no family, then?’

‘None that he knows of. The company was his family in the end.’

She nodded. ‘I can understand that. War creates a bond between men.’

It was an echo of his own former thought and he regarded her in surprise. ‘You speak knowledgeably.’

‘I have spent some time among fighting men.’

Curiosity increased. ‘The guerrilla force your uncle mentioned?’

‘That’s right. Does it shock you?’

‘I own to surprise. It’s not the role I would immediately have associated with you.’

‘It was that or the convent.’

‘But were you not engaged to be married?’

‘My betrothed broke off our engagement.’

Harry was conscious of having strayed onto dangerous ground. He sensed the hurt beneath the level tone and felt awkward. Clearly these were personal matters which he had no right to probe.

‘More fool him,’ he replied.

The words carried no discernible trace of irony. Elena eyed him askance, momentarily taken aback. At the same time the memory she had tried to suppress resurfaced. It ought not to have hurt any more, and she was disconcerted to discover that it did. With an effort she kept her tone neutral.

‘It would have shamed him to marry me.’

‘Why? You had been through a dreadful experience and you did what you thought you had to afterwards.’

‘Yes, but I was dishonoured all the same. He was very polite but he made it quite clear that marriage was out of the question.’ She lifted her chin. ‘I realised then that he felt nothing for me at all.’

The scene was still horribly vivid, the details etched on her memory. The Barilla family estate was outside the city, but Jose had come to find Elena when news of the rioting troops reached him. His shock on seeing the destruction they had wreaked was plain, but it was as nothing when he understood what had happened to her father, and to the female members of the household. Elena had been so relieved to see him that she hadn’t considered what might lie beneath his evident abhorrence. More than anything she wanted him to take her in his arms, to make her feel safe. However, on entering the vandalised salón where she waited, he left a yard of space between them and made no attempt to close the gap.

‘I should have been here to protect you,’ he said.

‘They would have killed you, Jose.’

‘Better that than such dishonour.’

‘The dishonour is not yours,’ she replied. ‘It belongs to those who committed the deed.’

‘Yet the taint can never be expunged.’ He let out a long breath. ‘I imagine that you intend to follow your sisters to the convent.’

Elena frowned. ‘Why should you imagine that?’

He stared at her. ‘But surely, after what has happened there can be no other choice.’

A cold lump settled deeper in her stomach. ‘No other choice?’

‘You must see that we cannot marry now. It is impossible.’

‘Is it?’

‘Elena, there may be consequences to the events that took place here.’

‘You mean I may have conceived a child.’

He winced. ‘It is a possibility. You must know that.’

‘I will know soon enough.’ She paused. ‘And if there is not a child?’

He shook his head. ‘After such a violation I cannot consider … I have my family to think of. You must see that.’

‘I do see. I think I’m truly seeing for the first time.’

He ignored the implication and stolidly maintained the calm, reasonable tone. ‘The wisest course for you now is to enter a convent. You have become soiled goods. No man of good family can marry you after what has happened.’

Elena felt as though she had been turned to stone. It couldn’t be happening. This stranger could not be Jose; he only looked like him. She wanted to shake him, to scream, to weep, to plead with him not to abandon her but she did none of those things, knowing that it would be useless. Gathering the shredded remains of pride she lifted her chin.

‘You’re right, of course. I was foolish to think anything else.’

He nodded. ‘I wish it had been otherwise, Elena, from the bottom of my heart.’

‘Your heart? If you possess one at all it was never mine.’

‘Elena, I …’

‘Go, Jose. Just go.’

For a moment he looked as though he were about to answer but then thought better of it. Instead he had turned away and walked out of her life for good….

‘He felt nothing for me,’ she repeated.

Harry regarded her steadily. ‘In that case you were well rid of him.’

‘So I think, now.’

He hesitated, but the urge to know overcame reticence. ‘Were you in love with him?’

‘I thought I was. He was young, handsome, wealthy, educated, amusing—all the things a young woman could want in a suitor.’ She smiled wryly. ‘I see now that I was in love with the idea of him. Of course I was younger then and very naive. It never occurred to me to look beneath the superficial charm. I accepted it all at face value.’

‘We’ve all done that at some point in our lives.’

‘It is painful to discover that the idol has feet of clay.’

‘There must have been other admirers since.’

Her expression grew cool. ‘I have not sought them.’

Again he could have kicked himself. ‘Forgive me. That was confoundedly tactless. It’s just that a woman like you would always excite admiration.’

‘My time was spent planning ambushes and fighting. Romance played no part in it.’

‘I didn’t mean to imply anything untoward.’ He paused. ‘You might have got yourself killed.’

‘At the time I didn’t care. But, as it turned out, I never suffered any serious injury. It was as though I bore a charmed life.’

‘I’m glad of it.’

Again the tone was sincere. Moreover, he was not critical of her actions and nor was he judgemental. After the opprobrium she had suffered of late it was a pleasant and unexpected change. But then he was unexpected in so many ways. It occurred to her to wonder then what might have happened if she had met such a man when she was younger, before the war had changed her life for ever. For a brief instant she had a glimpse of something that was beyond all former dreams of romance. It was followed by a sensation of sadness and loss. Her throat tightened. Such happiness as that was afforded to few, and it certainly didn’t include her.

They stopped at midday to rest their mounts and then, having eaten and taken a short siesta, resumed their journey. It was late afternoon when they heard other horses approaching, a large group riding fast. Elena’s stomach lurched and she darted a look at Concha. The other woman’s face revealed the same misgivings. Jack Hawkes looked at his master.

‘Should we pull off t’road and let ‘em pass, my lord?’

‘Yes, and let’s hope that passing is their intention.’

Jack glanced at the women. ‘Do you think it might be …’

‘I don’t know but I expect we’re about to find out.’

They had no sooner reined aside than the oncoming group swept around the bend. Harry counted a dozen riders; depressing odds if they were local brigands. His jaw tightened. The leading horsemen saw them and he heard a shout. There could be no doubt now that they were the target. The thunder of hooves came closer. His hand moved towards the Baker rifle in the saddle boot, then paused. Had he and Jack been alone he wouldn’t have hesitated, but the women’s presence made him reluctant to draw fire.

‘What do you want to do, my lord?’

‘Nothing, yet,’ he replied.

Before they could say more, the oncoming riders were upon them. In moments the little group was surrounded and a dozen pistols trained in their direction. Judging from their stony expressions, the bearers would very much have liked to use the weapons and clearly wouldn’t hesitate if given the order. Then, through the swirling dust, Harry recognised the man who led them. Don Manuel reined in a few yards away.

‘Did you really think to get away with this, my lord?’ He glowered at Elena. ‘Or you either?’

Elena’s stomach wallowed. This was rapidly assuming the proportions of a nightmare. She had miscalculated badly to assume that her uncle would wash his hands of her, and now innocent people were caught up in her botched plan. She directed an agonised glance at Harry but he failed to see it: his attention was focused squarely on her uncle.

‘I can explain, señor.’

Don Manuel regarded him with cold contempt. ‘I’m not interested in your explanation. I welcomed you in good faith and gave you all possible assistance. In return you have betrayed my hospitality in the basest way possible, and you have brought dishonour to my house.’

‘I understand why you might think so, but the situation is not what it seems.’

‘The situation is perfectly clear, my lord. I can only lament that a man of your rank and birth should have stooped to such subterfuge.’

Harry held on to his temper. ‘There was no subterfuge here.’

‘Do not compound your crime with falsehood.’

‘I resent both those suggestions, señor.’

‘You resent? It is I who am the injured party here and you who have violated my trust.’

Unable to remain silent any longer, Elena interjected. ‘No. He was not to blame.’

Don Manuel glared at her. ‘Lies won’t save him. He will learn what it means to besmirch the noble name of Urbieta.’

‘What do you mean to do?’

‘He and his treacherous henchman will hang from yonder tree. When it is done you will be delivered directly to the convent and your name will never be mentioned in my house again.’ Don Manuel turned to his servants. ‘Bind these men.’

She stared at him in appalled disbelief. However, it became horribly clear that her uncle meant every word. Under his flinty gaze, four of his men dismounted and advanced on Harry and Jack. Despite strong resistance, they were dragged from their horses and manhandled across the intervening space to be brought before their judge. Sick with dread now Elena flung herself off her own mount and ran to stand with them.

‘They are innocent. They had no knowledge of my intended escape. I used their departure to cover my own. It was only later when they were embarked upon their journey that Concha and I came up with them.’

The maid nodded. ‘It is true, señor.’

Don Manual directed a quelling glance her way. ‘Silence, wench! You are as complicit as the rest and you will be punished accordingly. Were you a man I’d have you hanged. As it is you may count yourself fortunate to be let off with a flogging.’

Concha paled but she did not lower her gaze.

‘She was obeying my orders,’ said Elena. ‘No blame attaches to her either. If your anger must fall on someone, let it fall on me. Lord Henry did not wish to take us along with him but he would not abandon us either. He had no choice but to do what he did.’

‘He should have brought you back at once.’

‘I did not wish to return and he would not force me to do so.’

‘I can well imagine he would not. No doubt he had other plans for a slut such as you.’

A muscle jumped in Harry’s jaw. ‘You are insulting, señor. I will not permit such imputations to be made.’

‘Can you deny that it was part of your scheme?’

‘I certainly do deny it. My intention was to escort the lady to England in accordance with her wishes, and that is all.’

Elena glanced at Harry and then met her uncle’s gaze. ‘He’s telling the truth.’

‘He is, señor,’ said Concha, ‘though you flog me for saying so.’

Don Manuel scowled at them but made no immediate reply. Elena’s heart pounded in her breast.

‘The fault is mine, Uncle. I swear this on my parents’ graves.’

‘Even if Lord Henry was not the instigator of the plan,’ said Don Manuel, ‘he has been instrumental in bringing dishonour to the family name.’

Harry’s eyes glinted. ‘If you seek satisfaction, señor, you may have it.’

‘No,’ said Elena. ‘I would not have any bloodshed on my account.’

‘Have no fear. I would not sully my blade in so sordid a matter,’ replied her uncle. ‘Yet this dishonour must be expunged.’ He fixed Harry with a gimlet stare. ‘If your intentions are honourable as you claim, my lord, then you will prove it.’

‘How may I do so?’

‘By taking my niece to wife. You shall marry her this very day. If not I shall have you and your servant hanged and she will go to the cloister.’

The pronouncement was met with dumbfounded silence. Elena’s cheeks went paper-white.

‘Uncle, this is not …’

‘Enough! Which is it to be, my lord?’

Harry knew there was only one possible answer now and he gave it.

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