‘The very best of surprises. Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.’
‘No thanks are necessary. It was my privilege.’
Sabrina didn’t know whether to laugh or cry and ended by doing both. He smiled gently.
‘You and your father must have a great deal to say to one another, so I’ll leave you for the time being.’
Unable to speak, she nodded, dashing tears from her eyes with a shaking hand. Her father put an arm about her shoulders and then looked at his deliverer.
‘Thank you, Major, for all that you have done. I am most grateful.’
‘An honour and a pleasure, sir.’ He bowed. ‘Your servant, Miss Huntley.’
With that he turned and left them. Sabrina stared at the empty doorway, her heart full.
* * *
Falconbridge’s mind was also agreeably preoccupied: Sabrina’s joy on being reunited with her father had given him a very real glow of pleasure. That he had been able to contribute to her happiness in some small way, gladdened him immeasurably.
On leaving them he had delivered his report to Wellington, informing him that the exchange of prisoners had taken place without a hitch. It was then that he learned of Ramon’s return and the safe delivery of the military plans. For a moment or two he wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. When his brain did assimilate the information, his overriding feeling was one of enormous relief. His lordship had no difficulty reading the expression.
‘You did well, Major Falconbridge. The information was every bit as valuable as I’d hoped.’
‘I am glad of it, sir.’
‘It would appear that your faith in that fellow Ramon was quite justified.’
‘I never doubted him, sir.’
‘The feeling would seem to be mutual.’
‘Sir?’
‘May I say that you have inspired an extraordinary degree of loyalty among your confederates on the Aranjuez mission. Quite apart from a detailed explanation about why he was delayed so long, the chap was also quite tediously emphatic that what occurred was none of your fault.’
‘Was he, sir?’
‘Damn it, man, with a dozen like him we needn’t have besieged Badajoz at all; we could have talked our way in.’
Falconbridge’s lips twitched. ‘I’m grateful for his support, sir.’
The hawk-like gaze held his. ‘Then perhaps you should go and tell him that yourself.’
‘I mean to, sir.’
‘Good. Do it soon, would you? Then perhaps I might be left alone to get on with the organisation of this campaign.’
Falconbridge left the room, aware that he was grinning quite inanely but unable to help it. He would have gone directly to speak with Sabrina but tact forbade it. She and her father needed time together.
* * *
Thus it was another two days before he presented himself at her door. It was opened by Jacinta who informed him that her mistress was in the garden.
‘It’s all right,’ he said as she made to accompany him, ‘I know the way.’
He walked through the salon and let himself out through the open French window, pausing a moment on the pathway among the brightly coloured beds. He saw her sitting on a stone bench by the fountain, apparently absorbed in a book. The sound of the water covered his footsteps until he was close. He paused, drinking in the details, realising that imagination had fallen well short of reality. The dusty and dishevelled companion of his travels was far removed from the feminine vision before him now. She was wearing a pretty pink gown that he had never seen before. It showed off to advantage the curve of a figure whose perfection he had glimpsed more intimately on other occasions. The golden curls were arranged in a knot on the crown of her head, and trailed artlessly over her neck and shoulders.
As if sensing that quiet scrutiny she looked up and saw him. Her cheeks paled, then flooded with warm colour. The book slid unheeded from her lap.
‘Robert.’ She rose to greet him, holding out her hands. ‘How glad I am that you have returned.’
He lost no time in possessing himself of the offering, holding her fingers in a familiar warm clasp as he returned her smile. Then he enquired after her father.
‘I hope he is in better health.’
‘He is much improved having had good food and plenty of rest. Of course, there is still some way to go yet, but I am sure that it will not be long before he is fully restored.’
‘Indeed I am happy to hear it.’
‘I cannot thank you enough for bringing him back to me.’
‘It was but a trifling service to escort him the last few miles home.’
‘Not trifling to me,’ she replied. ‘You cannot know what it meant.’
‘And I must thank Ramon. Lord Wellington told me of his return.’
‘Is it not wonderful? I cannot tell you how it felt to see him come back safe, and with the documents intact.’
He smiled. ‘I think I can imagine it.’
‘He went straight to see Lord Wellington and put the matter right. He felt it was the least he could do in view of his tardy arrival.’
‘His lordship informed me that Ramon spoke most eloquently on my behalf.’
‘I am quite sure he did.’ She was suddenly aware that he was still holding her hands. She really ought to free herself.
He drew her to the bench and sat down beside her. ‘I have wanted so much to speak with you,’ he went on. ‘I have missed your company these last two days.’
Her heart began to beat much faster. ‘Have you?’
‘More than I can say.’ He hesitated. ‘If I dared to, I would hope that you have also missed me, just a little.’
She smiled, regarding him askance. ‘Are you fishing for compliments?’
‘Absolutely. Is there any chance I might get one?’
‘No chance at all. Though I did miss you—a little.’
His eyes gleamed. ‘Only that?’
‘In truth, rather more than that.’
For the space of several heartbeats his gaze searched her face. Then he did release her hands, but only in order to take her in his arms. The precipice yawned at her feet but now it induced no desire to draw back. Sabrina closed her eyes and leapt, relaxing against him, surrendering to the embrace, wanting this. Her entire being delighted in his nearness and in the familiar scents of leather and cedar, and the warmth of his lips on hers. Their touch engendered more erotic thoughts and blood became fire. Her mouth opened beneath his, soft and yielding inviting total possession. He tightened his hold and the kiss became deliciously intimate, but now there was no fear or revulsion, only a deep-seated feeling of belonging.
Eventually he released her and drew back a little, looking down into her face.
‘How many times I have wanted to do that.’
‘Have you?’
‘Ever since the night of the ball.’
A small pulse leapt in her throat. ‘Then it wasn’t just a ruse?’
‘A ruse?’ His brows drew together for a moment. ‘It may have begun that way, until I actually held you in my arms and kissed you. Then I realised that my feelings had grown deeper than even I had suspected.’ He sighed. ‘I had no expectation of their being returned, of course. You had made it clear that our relationship was to remain on solely professional lines.’
‘I was afraid that if I did not you would think…’
‘What?’ he prompted gently.
‘That you would think of me as Jack Denton once did. I could not bear to see you look at me like that.’
‘My dearest girl, I would never look at you that way. You are most precious to me.’ He drew her to his breast, pressing his lips to her hair. ‘I think I did not know how precious until I saw you in Machart’s clutches. The thought of any man doing you harm is intolerable. If I had my way you would never be harmed again.’
‘Nor would I see harm come to you,’ she replied.
‘I imagine that was not always the case.’
‘True. The first ti
me I met you I confess I could cheerfully have wrung your neck.’
‘Ah.’ He pulled back enough to look into her eyes. ‘And now?’
‘I have no wish to, even though this behaviour can hardly be described as professional.’
‘I’m afraid it’s about to become even less so.’
Without warning Sabrina was tipped back into the crook of his arm and for a while after that speech was impossible. When next he looked into her face all suggestion of laughter was gone.
‘In case I’m not making this plain enough, I love you to distraction and can think of nothing else.’
The green eyes danced. ‘That is shockingly unprofessional, sir, but I must tell you that the feeling is mutual.’
His heart performed a dangerously original exercise. ‘It’s clearly hopeless so there’s only one thing to be done.’
‘What do you suggest?’
‘Marry me.’
The words brought a sudden surge of joy so intense that for a moment it eradicated all else. Sabrina reached up and brought his face down towards hers for a long, lingering kiss. Then she drew back a little in her turn. ‘In case I’m not making this plain enough, the answer is yes.’
He grinned. ‘Would you do that again, please, for the sake of clarity?’
The matter was clarified several times more before they came up for air.
‘I would like us to be married as soon as possible,’ he said then, ‘but I know that there are other considerations.’ He paused, choosing his next words with care. ‘Perhaps you want time to get used to the idea of marriage. We have known each other only a short while.’
‘How long does it take to know your own heart?’ she replied.
‘I think I did not know mine until I met you.’
‘We have learned more about each other in those weeks than most people discover in years.’
‘Then you would not object to our marrying sooner rather than later?’
‘I want to be your wife, Robert. It cannot come soon enough for me.’
‘Nor for me, either.’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘I gave you a wedding ring once before, and with precious little ceremony as I recall.’
‘I still have it.’
‘I’ll give you a much finer one, set with diamonds perhaps.’
‘If you don’t mind, I’d like it to be the original. It has more significance to me than any diamonds ever could.’
‘Are you sure, Sabrina?’
‘Quite sure.’
‘So be it.’ He rose, bringing her gently with him. ‘May I speak to your father?’
She nodded. ‘It will doubtless come as a shock to him.’
‘Then we will allow him some time to get used to the idea.’ He grinned. ‘A little time, that is.’
Chapter Sixteen
The wedding was to be a simple ceremony performed by the chaplain before a small number of witnesses. Falconbridge arrived early with Brudenell, but found it impossible to sit still and wait. Instead, he paced slowly the length of the hallway outside the chapel to try to dissipate the knot of tension in his gut. He heard the clock strike the hour but there was still no sign of his bride. The knot in his gut tightened. Was it all going to happen again? He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, telling himself not to be a fool. Brudenell eyed him shrewdly.
‘She’ll be here, Robert.’
He forced a smile. ‘Yes, of course.’
‘It’s a bride’s privilege to be late on her wedding day.’
‘I know.’
‘Then stop wearing out those stones and let us go in.’
He nodded and they walked up the aisle to take their places. Around them the assembled guests smiled, but he saw only a blur of faces. His throat was dry. With an assumption of calm he was far from feeling he took his place with his friend. As he stood there he found himself praying silently.
It seemed an age that he remained there thus, but in reality only a minute or two, before they heard a noise behind them, gasps and murmuring voices. Both men glanced round and then remained thus, staring.
‘By heaven and all the saints,’ murmured Brudenell. ‘You lucky.’
Falconbridge hardly heard him and could not have replied anyway, for he had no breath to do it. For a moment he was quite still, his gaze taking in every detail of the woman who walked towards him, leaning lightly on her father’s arm. She was exquisite, every detail perfect from the long-sleeved gown of white satin and lace, to the pearls adorning her ears and throat and the silk flowers nestling among her gold curls, to the small bouquet of red roses that she was carrying. His heart swelled with love and pride. Then, gathering his wits again, he stepped forwards to meet her.
From among the assembled guests Wellington surveyed the proceedings with a keen eye. ‘Damned handsome couple, what?’
Beside him Albermarle nodded. ‘Indeed they are, my lord.’
‘Good man, Falconbridge.’
‘Oh, unquestionably, my lord. I’ve always thought so.’
The ceremony was simple and short, a brief exchange of vows and the placing of the gold ring to bind them together as man and wife. Sabrina stole a look at the man who was now her husband and received an answering smile.
The chaplain smiled, too. ‘You may kiss the bride.’
Robert Falconbridge drew his wife close and for a moment looked down into her face. His heartbeat accelerated as he read the answer in her eyes. Then he bent his head and brought his mouth down on hers in a tender and lingering embrace.
Sabrina closed her eyes. For a moment she felt lightheaded, dislocated from reality. Yet the warmth of his hands was real enough, like the scent of leather and cedar wood from his uniform and the pressure of his lips on hers. Her blood tingled and, deep within, a flame kindled in her body’s core. Its glow remained even after he had drawn back. In shy confusion she became aware of voices raised in congratulation and good wishes. Then his hand closed around hers and squeezed it gently.
‘Come, Mrs Falconbridge.’
* * *
Colonel Albermarle had arranged for the wedding breakfast to be held in a private room adjoining the officers’ mess where they were joined by a larger group of friends and colleagues. Carried along on a wave of happiness Sabrina was yet keenly aware of the goodwill emanating from those gathered around them. Many were Falconbridge’s colleagues who had managed to arrange a few hours off duty and who thronged around to wish him well. Over his bride they were positively foolish, and she found herself the recipient of numerous compliments and gallantries.
Her husband smiled and, seeing he had no chance of claiming her for a while, turned his attention to Ramon who, with Luis and Jacinta, had been watching the proceedings with approbation. All three offered their congratulations. Luis blinked away a tear.
‘You must forgive me. I always cry at weddings.’
‘It is true,’ said Jacinta. ‘He does.’
Falconbridge grinned. ‘It is a tradition, I believe.’ Then, seeing his chance, he turned to Ramon. ‘There is something I would like to ask, if I may.’
The other man nodded. ‘You can ask.’
‘How did you persuade El Cuchillo to help us?’
For a moment Ramon was silent. Then he smiled faintly. ‘I called in a favour.’
‘I see. You’ve known him some time, I collect.’
‘We go back a long way, he and I. We grew up in the same village.’
‘Ah, you were old friends then.’
‘We were never friends. I might even say we detested each other. Certainly we had numerous fights when we were boys. By the time we were young men we each had a healthy respect for the other.’ Ramon paused. ‘Then, one day, his family’s house caught fire, trapping his mother and sister within. I had been working nearby and saw the smoke. When I went to investigate I heard the screams, so I broke in and managed to help them to safety.’
‘And so you and he became friends in the end, eh?’ said Luis.
Ramon smiled ruefully. ‘No, we were n
ever that exactly. All the same, he saw the rescue as divine intervention and believed himself obligated to me as a result. He went to the church and swore a sacred oath before the altar that one day he would repay the debt.’
Luis frowned. ‘How long ago was that?’
‘Twenty years.’
‘His memory is long.’
‘So is mine.’
‘How could you be sure that he would keep his word?’ asked Luis.
Jacinta met his eye with a level stare. ‘Time does not affect a sacred promise. To break it would dishonour himself and his family, and imperil his immortal soul.’
‘That is so,’ replied Ramon. ‘But, more than all of that, El Cuchillo hates the French as much as he loves a fight. He would never pass up such an opportunity.’
Falconbridge laughed. ‘Whatever his motivation, I am glad of it, believe me.’
Watching the little group from across the room, Sabrina smiled. In that moment it truly felt as if all her family were gathered again at last. It seemed, too, that happiness was infectious. All around her, laughter and banter flowed like wine. Even her father was smiling and doing his best to look cheerful, though she knew that inwardly he felt sad, too.
‘You need not worry for me,’ she said. ‘Truly I have married the best of men.’
He squeezed her hand. ‘I could not have parted with you had I not thought so, my dear.’
As soon as Sabrina had expressed her wish to marry, he had lost no time in speaking with Albermarle to find out all he could about his prospective son-in-law. The conversation had proved to be reassuring, rather than otherwise, and he had taken comfort from it. Sabrina’s obvious happiness and her new husband’s evident love and pride did much now to alleviate any lingering doubts.
For his part Falconbridge had taken as much time as he could to get to know his wife’s father and, when they did speak, to be as open and honest as possible. It had done him no disservice. Nor did he find John Huntley’s company in any way irksome. Both men were well travelled and well read and thus had enough common ground to be able to converse with ease. Though he yet detected some faint reserve in Huntley’s manner, he had every hope of their becoming the best of friends.
His Counterfeit Condesa (Historical Romance) Page 24
