“Right, let’s see you fire and reload,” Stewart commanded. He took out his gold pocket watch. “I’ll time you.”
Vevina waited for him to count to three, and then she put in her powder, her ball, and took aim. Her first shot went straight through the heart. She repeated the entire process three more times, and then looked up at Stewart as he counted sixty seconds.
“Now do it on the ground,” he ordered impassively.
Vevina repeated the whole process, and again, she was able to get four shots in one minute. The bullets all went into the heart area, in spite of her being so low on the ground.
“Now do it kneeling,” Stewart orders.
As she did so, she heard him move behind her. Just as she was about to take aim and fire, he began screaming and banging a tin bucket he had brought with him as loudly as he could.
Vevina almost jumped, but she still hit the target, still in the heart. Stewart kept up the awful din as she reloaded and fired again.
Vevina almost laughed out loud as a few curious souls came over to see what the commotion was.
Vevina knew Stewart was trying to see if she could keep up her accuracy amid all the noise and pressure of the battlefield, and so far she was succeeding.
Though her arm was tired, and her shoulder ached from the kickback of the rifle butt, she shot at and hit the lethal areas marked out on the dummy.
Finally he told her to stop, and admitted, “I’m impressed. How did you learn?”
“I have a nimble set of fingers, and a good eye. We did lots of hunting, and the blare of the horn, the barking of the hounds is also pretty distracting. I just pay attention to what is important, and ignore everything else.”
“I take it you're as good with a pistol, then, but this time on a moving target, please,” Stewart asked, trying to find some flaw in her skills.
He had some large rocks which he threw up in the air, and after Vevina had loaded two pistols, she hit each one of them as they sailed past.
“Bayonet?” he asked softly, beginning to regret wasting his time putting her through her paces like a trained horse.
Vevina went up to the dummy, and cut, thrust and slashed through it like a professional.
“Let me guess, your mother taught you,” he said, rolling his eyes in dismay. He had tried to shame her into going home. Yet the remarkable young woman had definitely turned the table on his whole scheme.
Vevina laughed, “Well, you know how wild we Irish are!”
“I’m going to have to have a few words with that brother of yours about his disreputable sister,” Stewart said, concealing his laughter behind a grim scowl.
“Don’t blame him! I have nothing else to do all day, and besides there is pride in a job well done,” Vevina argued.
“You certainly do it well, all of it,” he praised openly.
“Any other tests for me, Major?”
“Yes, I haven’t seen you on a horse yet.”
“Bare back, or with a saddle?”
“Just to be cruel, my dear, bare back.”
Vevina smiled, knowing he probably thought she was accustomed to riding only with a ladies’ side saddle.
Vevina said teasingly, “And if I pass this test, what do I win?”
“You get to stay?” Stewart offered grudgingly.
“And if I lose?”
“You get to stay, but I get a kiss.”
Vevina’s heart soared, and she almost found herself wishing she lost this last battle of wills.
Stewart brought her a horse, and then removed the bridle. Vevina opened her mouth, but shut it again quickly. She would show him she could ride and control the horse perfectly even without a bridle. She took a run up, and managed to leap onto the huge beast without a stirrup.
Then she took her sabre and charged at the dummies, hacking them to pieces, swirling her horse around in different directions with her knees and the heels of her boots, so she could weave in and out at will.
She enjoyed the sensation of galloping, and was just going back to where Stewart waited, when a rabbit hopped out of its burrow, startling the horse.
The stallion reared back. Vevina managed to hold on with her knees, and one finger interlaced in the animal’s mane.
But it went back further a second time, and Vevina could feel herself falling. She was convinced the rocks in the road had gone right though her, as she landed with a thud and lay on the ground dazedly, but Vevina held tight to her sword.
As Stewart neared her, she thrust upwards, the blade swishing perilously close to his ornamental sash, and then she got to her feet.
“Another French man dead. That makes eighty-three, by my count.”
“But you fell off.”
“All right then, the rabbit won,” Vevina laughed, shaking her head before she sat back down on the ground and held her aching ribs.
“You must be very sore after that fall,” Stewart said quietly.
He knelt down beside her, and pulled up the back of her shirt to reveal some scrapes and bruises.
“Not too bad, but some patches are already darkening. Come back to the tent, and I’ll help you put on that wonderful ointment you made,” he offered.
He helped her carefully to her feet, and they walked in silence back to their quarters.
Once inside, Vevina removed her blouse with her back to Stewart, while he brought the bowl of arnica.
The warm fingers applied the soothing cream gently, and Vevina let out a sigh of relief and contentment.
“How is you nose now?” she asked softly. Without thinking, she turned to face him.
The sight of her magnificent breasts was almost more than Stewart could stand, and he longed to lay her down on the bed and make time stand still for both of them.
Stewart managed to stammer, “Fine,” before he insisted daringly, “You lost. I won the bet, and I’ll take that kiss now.”
Vevina’s eyes locked with his, and for an agonising moment Stewart thought she was about to walk away. Her eyes flicked over his face and she understood the raw desire in his eyes. Though she blushed, she stretched up to reach his mouth.
Go slowly, his mind told him, but his hands came up to cup her feminine fullness, and she gasped.
Stewart took advantage of her opened mouth to plunder the honey-soft cavern with his tongue. Vevina found herself clinging to him with an abandon she had never thought possible in herself.
“Vevina, you are so lovely,” he breathed, as he moved down her neck to her right shoulder, and then to the delicate pink tip of her breast.
Sensation flooded through Vevina, and she held his head to her while he teased the silky crest. Her legs began to shake, and Stewart knelt down, bringing her onto the floor with him, while he moved to taste her other breast, and her hands caressed his shoulders and chest longingly.
Stewart murmured into her skin, “You are so beautiful, beyond anything I've ever dreamt of,” as he turned his sensual attentions to her other breast.
Vevina’s body felt on fire, and she writhed under him in a tormented ecstasy of undefinable sensations. So this
But she also knew it was more than mere physical desire. Her whole universe was becoming centred around Stewart, and it was at once both completely fulfilling and dangerous.
“Stewart, I think we have to stop,” she whispered against his ear.
Stewart raised his head to look straight into her eyes. “Do you really want to, Vevina? Tell me the truth.”
Vevina couldn’t lie to him, but she couldn’t let this madness continue.
“I want you, but this isn’t the time or the place. Someone may come in at any moment. It’s broad daylight outside, in the middle of an army camp. Please, if you have any regard for my dignity or your own, we must stop,” Vevina managed to plead, before his mouth took hers in another blazing kiss.
“Say it again!” he murmured erotically as he teased her breasts until they throbbed achingly under the bold onslaught of his tongue and teeth.
&nbs
p; “Say you want me, Vevina,” Stewart urged, nibbling her earlobes while his hands quested lower, kneading her buttocks and thighs as he pulled her up against the full length of him.
“I want you, Stewart!” Vevina begged, no longer able to withstand the longings which burned inside her.
She was shocked at herself for giving in so easily, but she knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her. It was inevitable. All the moments they had spent together in the past weeks had all been leading up to this.
If Vevina insisted on staying at the camp, they were going to become lovers soon, in spite of all their attempts to resist the smouldering attraction they felt for each other.
Stewart’s hand slipped inside and far below the waistband of her trousers, his warm fingers seeking the feminine core of her unerringly. As Vevina uncontrollably arched up against him with a passionate cry, she decided there was no point in postponing their lovemaking any longer.
Vevina’s eyes were limpid violet pools of desire as her eyes searched Stewart’s blue ones, now almost black with passion, and she whispered urgently, “Please, love me now!”
Stewart needed no second invitation, and began to work at the fastenings of her trousers, while all the time his mouth feasted on her exposed flesh, and Vevina reached down for his throbbing desire.
But just as Stewart moved to take off his own clothes, and remove the rest of hers, they could hear the crunch of gravel, and footsteps approaching.
Stewart muttered shakily, “God, I nearly forgot myself,” as he pulled away from Vevina and practically ran out of the tent before anyone could look in and see Vevina half-naked and panting with desire.
“Ah, there you are, Major,” she heard Ensign Parks say. “Some important messages from Wellington just arrived via Cuidad Roderigo.”
Vevina listened as she dressed herself hurriedly.
“It says to withdraw from our position here within the next two days,” Ensign Parks explained, trying to sound casual, but Vevina could hear his worried tone.
“But that’s impossible," Stewart exclaimed. "After weeks of digging in here in case the French decided to march into Portugal, it's unthinkable to retreat.”
“I agree,” said Ensign Parks, sounding very relieved.
“Where did you day these messages came from?” Stewart asked, seemingly casually.
Vevina could hear the strain in his voice, and she went outside to stare up at him, her face hopefully devoid of longing for him.
Ensign Parks stated, “Hawkes got them from a messenger passing on his way back to Cuidad Roderigo.”
“I see. Send for Hawkes, will you? And can you also go through all of his personal luggage with two of the Provosts on duty.”
“Yes sir, I'll see to it directly, sir.”
As soon as Parks had gone, Vevina asserted, “You see, Stewart, there has to be something going on. Maybe it's just coincidence that Hawkes brought the message. Maybe he doesn’t know who I am, and is doing this just to get even with you over me. But I'm certain someone has bought him. Those messages must be fake.”
“Well, there's only one way to find out, and that it to send someone with a message to Wellington.”
“But it’s too dangerous. You would have to tell him everything. You might get into trouble, which might be exactly what Samuel is counting on!”
“It can’t be helped. I’ll pick three men to go at dawn. The French hate morning duties, so they’ll have a better chance of getting through then.”
“I want to go.”
“You! Vevina, are you mad?”
She held up one hand to forestall his tirade. “Listen to me before you lose your temper. I’m the logical person to send. I know all about the situation here. I can explain it to Wellington myself!”
“But the ride! It’s is over forty miles there, and you’re a woman. What if someone attacked you?”
“Send me with one of the men, and we can pretend we are husband and wife, two ordinary Spaniards out hunting,” Vevina reasoned.
“Forgive my quibbling with your plan, my dear, but with your auburn hair, and fair skin, you don’t look very Spanish.”
“I'll alter my appearance, I promise. Please, Stewart let me go. I want to do something to help, to prove my loyalty so I can get back for my family what your brother has stolen.”
Stewart ground his teeth at the mention of his brother coveting Vevina’s land, but worse still, stealing what he longed to possess, Vevina herself.
Samuel had to be stopped. And Vevina’s plan offered him the opportunity he had looked for all day, to send Vevina back to England, though he would hate himself for doing so once she was gone.
“All right, you make your preparations, I’ll pick my men. You will go in the morning to see Wellington, and we will make some sort of coded arrangement known only to ourselves. If Samuel is sending false messages by dispatch and through the telegraph, we’ll have to make sure the real ones don’t get through to him.”
Vevina gazed up at him, longing to thank him for trusting her, yet unable to find the right words. The flush of passion was still on his cheek, and apparent in the set of his jaw. Their eyes locked for what seemed an eternity.
“Stewart?” she said softly.
He almost reached for her, then shook his head, breaking the spell between them.
“I have to deal with Hawkes, my deat. I’ll see you later, I promise.”
Stewart reached up to stoke a stray curl back from her cheek, and then Vevina was alone in front of the tent, and almost upset at the prospect of going to Wellington's HQ, even though she knew this was the very chance she had been waiting for, to prove Samuel the traitor and restore her family's honor.
Chapter Sixteen
Once Stewart had gone, Vevina wondered how she could keep her word and disguise herself while she rode the forty miles to Wellington's headquarters to see the Duke and try to confirm all her suspicions about Samuel Fitzgerald being a traitor and spy for the French.
She turned back into the tent, and rummaged around in Stewart’s kit until she found his boot polish. Then she went to the kitchen tent, and searched for some walnuts. She was able to find a dozen, and steamed them up into some viscous liquid, which she then soaked on a cloth and applied to her face, throat and hands. She looked in Stewart’s mirror, and saw she looked as brown as a nut.
Delighted, she then patiently cut off several inches of her hair. No longer did it hang down over her shapely shoulders in shimmering waves. Now it fell to just below her ears, and curled riotously around her soft features in a mass of luxurious ringlets any London beauty would have envied.
She experimented with the boot polish, and it looked as though it would cover her glowing auburn well. But of course if it rained, some if it would come off, so she hunted for a broad brimmed hat, and secured a fine grey skirt and white blouse by going around the camp and bartering for them. She also obtained a long black woollen cloak, and a broad leather belt.
She took the two pistols Stewart had given her for practice and loaded them, and was just trying on her outfit, and tying up her hair in ribbon and piling it under her hat when Martha came in for a chat.
“Viv, I'm guessn' you’re up to summat. Are you going somewhere?” Martha asked worriedly.
“Whatever gave you that idea?” Vevina asked with wide-eyed innocence.
“You’re done up in fancy clothes, not breeches, and I can see the pistols under that cloak you be wearing. Is it summat dangerous you be doing for the Major?” Martha guessed.
Vevina nodded.
“Then ‘ere, you take this, for all the medicine and help you’ve given me and Jack and the little’un. I picked it up off a body around Christmas time, on account of it were so pretty.”
She held out a small deadly looking silver dagger. Vevina took it reluctantly, and only then because she didn’t want to reject the gift. She decided she could always give it to Bob as a token of all he had taught her about knives in the past month that they had shared the c
amp kitchen.
But Martha changed Vevina’s mind about the value of the gift as she explained, “You wear it in your boot, or get a couple of pieces of cloth and tie it to your leg. I got one here, see,” she said, pulling up her skirt to her thighs. “Just in case a man tries to attack ye, ye can stab him and run. I sharpened it for ye and all,” Martha said proudly.
In the face of her earnest expression, Vevina did not have the heart to refuse. What Martha had said made sense. Together they tore up some strips of fabric to make a small pouch for it down the inside of Vevina’s boot.
Scars Upon Her Heart (The Scars of The Heart Series) Page 13
