Lucy Lane and the Lieutenant

by Helen Dickson

  ‘He may not mind his manners, but you must mind yours if you are to carry it off.’

  ‘Is he aware I have been given the assignment?’

  ‘No. I have to ask you about Miss Lane. Is she up to the task, do you think?’

  ‘I hope so. Lady Newbold and Lucy are...old friends.’

  ‘And you think that is enough?’

  ‘Miss Lane has courage and good sense. I can trust her, trust in her integrity. She is also reliable and will stay the course, I am sure.’

  ‘And she cares enough about Lady Newbold to help rescue her.’

  ‘I have yet to tell her it is Lady Newbold we are going to rescue.’

  Robert gave him a quizzical look. ‘And—is that likely to be a problem?’

  Nathan shook his head, swirling his brandy round his glass. ‘I don’t think so—not when I explain everything.’

  ‘That is something. I told you Lady Newbold was wounded when she was taken. Unfortunately we don’t know how badly. She may not make it to Lisbon unaided. We felt we had to suggest that you found a woman who is trustworthy, someone who would be up to the task. You cannot care single-handedly for an injured woman and an infant.’

  * * *

  Maria showed Lucy into a room that was low-ceilinged with pale blue curtains and bedspread. It was a charming, restful room and what delighted Lucy was the balcony overlooking terracotta roofs and the River Tagus.

  Hot water was brought and she bathed and changed into a lovely pale blue dress laid out for her by Maria. Lucy could not help giving a shiver of pleasure as she touched the soft material. Maria, quite rightly, thought she would appreciate disposing of her breeches, if just for one night.

  * * *

  For what was left of the day, they were entertained in a manner Lucy had not thought possible by strangers. Maria had met Sir Robert when her parents had taken her to London when she was a young woman. When Sir Robert had retired from the army after serving in India and later in Spain, and having become used to warmer climes, he and his wife and their three sons, all military men and serving with Wellington, had decided to settle in Lisbon. They still grieved for the loss of Harry, their youngest son, but they put on a brave face for their guests.

  Maria was as gracious and kind as she was witty and warm. Her light-hearted charm was infectious and Lucy felt the tension melt away with the laughter. The evening swept past in a relaxed and congenial atmosphere. In the presence of the older couple, whom he had known for many years, Nathan seemed at ease. While dining, Lucy even managed to remain calm beneath his unwavering stare.

  Nathan was the one who felt the bite of discomfort as he admired Lucy in the pale blue satin gown, the gentle sway of her hips as she walked ahead of him to the flower-decked terrace and the incredibly narrow curve of her waist.

  Sitting on the terrace with the cicadas chattering, breaking the stillness of the evening, Lucy felt she was in heaven as she sipped chilled wine and nibbled on olives and cheese.

  * * *

  Later, when Sir Robert and his wife rose to seek their bed, Nathan held back.

  ‘We have to talk.’ She met his gaze and nodded. Picking up a cashmere shawl Maria had left, Nathan went to where Lucy stood and draped it gently about her shoulders. ‘You’re shivering.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, drawing the shawl around her gratefully. ‘It has turned cold. I always imagined Portugal to be a hot country.’

  ‘And so it is in summer, when the sun bakes the plains into dust, but in winter it can be freezing.’

  It was a beautiful starlit night, and as Lucy strolled to the edge of the terrace her mood lightened. The moon was a great golden orb in the sky and the sounds of the town below hung on the air.

  ‘It’s a beautiful night,’ she commented.

  ‘So it is,’ Nathan agreed, watching her. ‘Would you like more wine?’

  ‘No, thank you. I drank enough over dinner. The food was delicious and your friends have made me feel very welcome. So,’ she said, turning to face him, ‘now we are in Portugal, perhaps you would like to tell me more about this assignment you have been given? I would like to know what is facing us. I have to know if all this is worth it—I sincerely hope it is because when I return to England nothing will be the same for me.’

  A tiny smile twisted one corner of his mouth although his eyes remained without warmth. ‘In what way?’

  She gave a brittle laugh. ‘My life, my career, everything I have worked for.’

  ‘You don’t have to work any more, Lucy.’ Nathan spoke quietly, watching her, making no attempt to move closer to her.

  ‘No, I suppose not. I’m glad you guaranteed payment before we left London. For my own peace of mind I feel better knowing Aunt Dora will be taken care of should anything happen to me.’

  ‘It has been taken care of. As you have seen for yourself a bank account has been opened in your aunt’s name and the amount I promised you has been deposited.’

  ‘Yes, I know. Thank you for that. So, tell me about this assignment and what it is that you expect of me. You have already told me we won’t be going into a war zone.’

  Without preamble, he said, ‘No. As you know a lady is missing. I have been ordered to find her and return her to her family.’

  She smiled. ‘You’re a soldier, Nathan, and a lady needs rescuing. Is that not what soldiers throughout history have done?’ Relieved that she wouldn’t have to face a regiment of French soldiers, her smile widened. ‘I hope it won’t be too difficult and I understand why you need a woman’s help. Do you know where to look for her?’

  He nodded. ‘Yes. That is not the problem.’

  ‘Then—what is it?’ She had a sudden feeling that she wouldn’t like what he was going to tell her. ‘Who is it you want me to help you to save? What is the lady’s name?’

  ‘It is Katherine, Lucy. It is Katherine who is missing.’

  The name fell between them like a cannonball. Lucy’s smiling face closed instantly. She gave the impression of not understanding what he was saying. Her feverishly glittering eyes were riveted on Nathan’s face, searching it desperately for some sign that she had not heard him correctly. But, no. She swallowed. ‘I see.’ Crushed by a deep hurt and disappointment, she turned her burning face away from him. ‘Nathan,’ she beseeched, ‘don’t ask that of me...not you!’

  Moving close to her and placing his finger gently on her cheek, he turned her face to his. His blue eyes slid towards her and trapped her in their burning gaze. ‘I do ask it of you because you are the one person who can help me.’

  A sudden revulsion seized her, making her oblivious to everything—where she was. ‘How can you of all people ask this of me?’

  ‘At this time nothing matters but rescuing Katherine. It is important that I find her, and if that meant recruiting you to help me, then so be it.’

  A sudden spasm of pain tore through Lucy. ‘You knew this all along. Little wonder you wouldn’t tell me. Had you done so you know I would never have agreed to it. You deceived me cruelly. I will never forgive you for this, Nathan,’ she said, her voice shaking. ‘Never.’

  ‘I regret that the deception was necessary.’

  ‘I realise now why you would not tell me of the woman’s identity in London.’

  He lifted his brows, as if silently asking her what she expected him to say.

  ‘I have no wish to revisit the past. Such things are best left.’

  ‘Not always. If they remain hidden, they can fester and become harmful. It’s easier to hide behind it than speak of what is painful. Whatever went wrong between you and Katherine is your affair. Although—I don’t think it is mere coincidence that she received the same cold treatment from you as I did.’

  Lucy listened with incredulity to his flow of calculated insult, delivered in a cordial, convers
ational tone. Was he mocking her, or was he trying to show her that the warmth of their relationship which had developed in the past had changed into a quiet, amiable contempt. If that was it, she thought, she could not bear it.

  She returned a non-committal look and lapsed into silence. Nathan was reluctant to press her on the past any further, for fear of alienating her altogether. But when he thought of the passion they had shared, the enjoyment they had found in each other, how could she suddenly have turned so cold on him four years ago?

  Lucy turned from him. ‘I—I heard Katherine had gone to Spain—about the same time as you did. Later I heard that she had married. Did—did you make her your wife?’ The question almost choked her to get it out, but she had to know. She dreaded what he would tell her.

  Nathan frowned. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Did you marry her, Nathan?’

  ‘No, I did not. Did you have reason to believe I would?’

  His answer brought Lucy immense relief, but she did not show it. ‘I could see she meant something to you.’

  ‘We were friends, Lucy, good friends, nothing more than that. It is becoming clear that you read more into that friendship than there was.’

  Lucy turned to face him, her expression stiff and angry with memory. ‘You say that now. My eyes did not deceive me, Nathan.’

  ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘When we were together I never imagined you would look at another woman and in my wildest dreams I did not imagine that you would be blackguard enough to associate with a woman who was my closest friend, a woman of whom I was extremely fond. There was deep affection between Katherine and me. We shared the same ideals, hopes—and the same man, it seems,’ she said, unable to hide the bitterness she still felt. ‘I always thought she was honest, that her friendship was genuine. But I was wrong about her—about you.’

  ‘And you are sure of that are you, Lucy?’

  ‘Katherine was a beautiful woman—I am sure she still is, but how would I know, not having seen her since the morning I saw you leave her house—embracing her and bestowing a lover’s kiss on her cheek. I thought she had no man in her life, but of course she did. My betrothed. How you must have laughed as you played your little games behind my back.’

  ‘I never realised you had so little faith—or trust—in me.’

  His mind reeling, the magnitude of his error in not taking Lucy into his confidence that it was Katherine they were coming to Portugal to rescue was enormous, but even worse was the knowledge of what she must have suffered four years ago. Her pain and her vulnerability touched him more deeply than anything else could. But he remembered how she had turned her back on him and how he had left for the war an angry young man full of rage and hurt pride, and how she had almost destroyed his faith in women.

  Would either of them ever again experience that grand passion they had known together? There will never be anyone else for me. Those words she had once spoken were in his head. They tormented him, echoing through his brain as he tried to get on with his life.

  ‘You fool, Lucy. I went to see Katherine for the very best of reasons. What you saw was quite innocent.’

  ‘It was?’ She stared at him silently for a moment. ‘Are you telling me there was nothing between you?’

  ‘That is exactly what I am saying,’ he said firmly.

  ‘But there were rumours—cruel rumours that hurt me terribly. Mrs West—you will remember Mrs West—she told me the two of you had been meeting in secret—that you were often seen alone together on several occasions.’

  His expression hardened. ‘And on this you condemned me—and Katherine. Lucy, could you not see that Mrs West, the biggest vindictive busybody in London, bore a grudge against you—and Katherine.’

  Lucy stared at him in amazement. ‘Did she? I had no idea. But—why would she?’

  ‘You are attractive. Beautiful, talented—and worst of all, young. Mrs West didn’t find it difficult to dislike either of you.’

  Looking back, Lucy remembered how she had felt sorry for Mrs West, who had been an actress herself. She knew how much she had loved the theatre and had been loath to give it up when the parts dried up. Lucy realised Nathan was probably right and that Mrs West’s bitter jealousy had turned to deadly treachery.

  ‘But what about you, Nathan? Your behaviour towards me became different. You were distant, preoccupied. I knew you had something on your mind. We were to be married and yet the times we were together became less. I thought—I believed, all things considered, that it was all connected and that Mrs West was right. I thought you didn’t love me any more. I couldn’t bear it. I—I thought you would leave me. I couldn’t face it. And then when I actually saw you with Katherine, it was evident to me that Mrs West had been right all along and that you had both played me for a fool. What else was I to think?’

  ‘So you walked away.’ Nathan sighed, shaking his head. ‘It would seem you had forgotten that I was a military man about to go to war.’

  ‘Then why didn’t you talk to me about it?’ she cried. ‘I began to think I didn’t know you any more.’

  ‘And I thought you trusted me.’

  ‘How could I trust you when you were up to your eyes in deception? How were we supposed to have any kind of life together if you didn’t tell me what was going on?’ she demanded indignantly.

  ‘It was—difficult—I had a duty!’

  ‘One that apparently mattered to you more than I did.’

  ‘No. That is not true. You were the most important thing to me in the world. I had to protect you by keeping you out of what I was about to do. The two disparate halves of my life had begun to collide and at the time I had no idea what to do. There was evidence that Bonaparte presented a very real threat, that he was implementing plans to invade England. I had been recruited by English intelligence and I was being sent to France to spy against him. Telling you I was to leave you immediately after the wedding would change the whole picture for you and I did not assume you would be pleased to be left stranded in London.’

  ‘Had you so little faith in me that you thought I would not understand? You should have told me.’

  ‘I couldn’t. I was forbidden to tell anyone. Telling you about my assignment also meant placing the security of the whole secret web in your hands. It would have become another risk to all the other agents in the field. How was I to know you were convinced I was having an affair with Katherine? If you thought that then you should have confronted me with it, not run away.’

  ‘I had to. I was angry, humiliated and deeply hurt. I didn’t want to see either of you. I had to get away. Why didn’t you try to find me?’

  ‘Why?’ he said, arching a brow, his voice hardening. ‘May I remind you that I tried—as well you know—day after day. I wrote to you—sent you flowers, begged you to see me. You never did reply.’

  ‘You should have tried harder,’ she told him, feeling utterly wretched.

  ‘You went away and I had to go to France. I did not betray our love, Lucy. You did. If I’d known all this from the start and thought you would misconstrue the situation, I’d have set the matter straight. You did not give me the chance.’

  ‘No,’ she conceded. ‘I accept that.’

  Her voice was quiet with regret. This latest revelation turned everything on its head. At the time she had told herself that the bitterness that consumed her helped no one, least of all herself, but had tossed the thought aside, not wanting to think about it. Instead she had wrapped the pain, the grief of her loss and her anger about her like a blanket and found a strange comfort in it. Until now.

  Tears burned the backs of her eyes, and she said brokenly, ‘I was a fool, an angry misguided fool. Aunt Dora was right when she said I hide my feelings. It has become a habit with me and perhaps a defence, too.’

  ‘A defence against
what?’

  ‘Becoming hurt again. I realise now that I made a mistake about you and Katherine, but it wasn’t an unreasonable conclusion to jump to.’

  ‘Perhaps not. But there is no turning back the clock, no going back.’

  His words were meaningful, firmly, quietly spoken. In that moment Lucy knew Nathan had moved on with his life. The passionate lover had been absorbed into the rigidly autocratic figure of his rank. He was a man of strength and small pity. His face was proud, the face of a man hardened by military experience, mellowed only by the beautiful blue of his eyes.

  ‘No. Neither of us can do that.’

  ‘There’s been enough misunderstanding between us. I wouldn’t like you to think I misled you by anything I have done or said since our meeting in London.’

  He was referring to the intimate moments they had shared, Lucy was sure of that. But she wouldn’t allow him to see how deeply being in his arms once more, to feel his lips on hers, had affected her.

  ‘Why did Katherine go to Spain?’

  ‘To be with her husband—James Newbold—who you must know is the Duke of Londesborough’s son. You must have seen how it was between the two of them. He danced attendance on her at every event we attended.’

  ‘Yes—I do remember,’ she murmured lamely.

  ‘He was killed in action.’

  Lucy stared at him in horror and disbelief, seeing Nathan’s pain and how deeply the death of his friend had affected him in his eyes. ‘Oh—I didn’t know,’ she said, her heart heavy with his loss. ‘Katherine’s first husband was killed in action. That marriage had been of short duration, too. Poor Katherine—to lose two husbands in similar circumstances. I liked James. Who could not? He was very handsome. He—he did have an eye for Katherine.’

  ‘He loved her, Lucy.’ Turning from her, with his hands clasped behind his back, Nathan walked to the edge of the terrace, looking down past the twinkling lights of Lisbon to the Tagus, its waters shining silver in the moonlight. ‘I do understand what a sacrifice I am asking of you, I really do, but you and Katherine were friends once, good friends. If you value the friendship you once shared, then you must try to help me set her free—her and her son.’