Fortune's Bride (Heiress, Book Four)

by Roberta Gellis

  “No, I will go next door and make myself decent,” she replied, still smiling, not at all ill pleased with the flash of admiration she had seen. “Shall I tell Molly to bring in your bags so you can change to regimentals? You will wish to change for dinner if the general officers are invited, I expect.”

  Robert burst out laughing at a sudden vision of himself in full formal dress escorting Esmeralda in her present costume, then choked. “I beg your pardon,” he said, striving desperately for gravity. “I will change if you like, but I am not dining with Sir Arthur tonight. If you will give me the honor of your company, I will dine with you this evening. The staff is excused, as there is not room enough at the table for us and the general officers.”

  “I know just what you are thinking,” Esmeralda remarked, trying to look severe and failing lamentably because she thought it was funny, too, “However, it will not do. We cannot count on being alone with our little joke. If Lord Burghersh or one of the others should come in—”

  The mischievous sparkle in Robert’s eyes was quenched at once, and he stood away from the door. “Go and get dressed immediately,” he said.

  Esmeralda fled, embarrassed all over again as soon as the light teasing between them ended. She would have liked a few minutes to think over the implications of Robert’s manner from the beginning to the end of the incident, but she did not dare leave him alone with his thoughts. They might, of course, be greatly to her advantage, but they might also lean the other way, emphasizing the embarrassment and discomfort of sharing quarters with a woman with whom he was not genuinely intimate.

  Thus, Esmeralda tore off Robert’s shirt while she told Molly to go out and see if she could get an adequate dinner cooked for them somewhere, pulled on her one gown, and rushed back—only to find Robert stripped down to his breeches. This time it was Esmeralda’s gasp of surprise that drew attention, but when their eyes met, both burst out laughing.

  “Oh, I am so sorry,” Esmeralda cried. “I thought I had told you not to change. I have sent Molly out to bring in dinner. We will both be more comfortable here, I think, than trying to struggle through the crowds in the town. Shall I go?”

  “Not if you don’t mind seeing me put on a shirt,” Robert replied.

  Esmeralda smiled and moved toward a chair near the window. “I hope you do not think me shockingly bold,” she said, “but you know, after living in India all my life, I cannot really feel much dismayed by a bare upper body. Really, there is little of the male form with which I am not acquainted. The men working in Papa’s go-downs wore hardly anything at all.”

  “You should not have been in the go-downs,” Robert remarked. “I do not wish to speak ill of your father, particularly since he is dead, and even more because I have profited by his peculiarities in that you are very…” He hesitated and then, as if he had not left the sentence unfinished, went on, “But it was most improper. You will need to be more careful in England.”

  He turned away to rummage in his bag. Esmeralda forgot to reply while her eyes rested on his broad shoulders, then slid down his hard-muscled back to his narrow waist. She had done it before, but only when he was asleep or deeply absorbed in some task. This time he seemed to feel her gaze on him, and he turned back toward her, but in the split second it took Robert to look at her, Esmeralda was staring most innocently out the window.

  “I don’t think I am likely to be in the same situation in England,” she said blandly, and then when he did not answer, she grew nervous and retreated from the personal conversation to what she knew would interest him and put him at ease. “What did you mean when you said Sir Arthur was going to scold his general officers?” she asked.

  For the first time in his life, Robert had to exert considerable effort to focus his mind on a military subject. “The march,” he said vaguely, thinking that he must be more careful in the future. He kept seeing Merry in those provocative pantalets, damp with sweat, and clinging to her buttocks and thighs. With considerable haste, Robert pulled his shirt on and reached for his coat.

  “You’ll be too warm if you wear your coat,” Esmeralda commented innocently, her voice tinged with surprise, for Robert seldom wore more than a shirt during the heat of the day in their own quarters.

  Robert wondered irritably whether he should inform her of certain facts of life, but when his eyes met hers and saw the puzzled concern in them, the words froze in his throat.

  “What was wrong with the march?” Esmeralda asked.

  “Good God, didn’t you notice that about a third of the men fell out along the way?” he retorted.

  “I did see a number of men along the road,” Esmeralda admitted, “but I am very ignorant of what is usual under these circumstances.”

  “Well, the troops are very raw,” Robert conceded, “but Sir Arthur felt that the officers were not sufficiently attentive, and he wishes them to know that he was not satisfied with the performance of the men. It did not really matter today and probably will not until we reach Leiria. After that, however, we may meet the French any time, and we cannot have a third of our forces lying along the roadside, complaining of the heat.”

  “Have you received definite information about where the French are?” she asked.

  “No, but that almost certainly means that they are not close,” Robert replied soothingly. “There is nothing to fear.”

  “I am not—” Esmeralda began, but her denial was interrupted by the sound of several pairs of boots on the stairs, which heralded a polite scratch on the door.

  “Come in,” Robert called, and grinned as he remembered that Merry had warned him they were not likely to be left alone for long.

  “I just thought I would let you know that it would be better to keep Mrs. Moreton off the street,” Lord Burghersh said immediately after greetings had been exchanged. Then he stared around the room and twisted up his face. “You are a lucky dog, Moreton,” he sighed. “You’re likely to be the only one who sleeps tonight. The rest of us will be too busy scratching.”

  The remark was fervently echoed by the others and led naturally enough to jokes about Robert having all sorts of unfair advantages. He responded to the teasing in his usual way, but he was aware of a very odd mixture of feelings. He felt guilty because he now realized why Esmeralda had been wearing that odd costume, she had been cleaning the room. Yet the knowledge that she had done it and made nothing of it, adapting so easily and uncomplainingly to each new situation, gave him a sense of satisfaction. It also aroused in him an uneasy indecisiveness regarding his once firm conviction that following the drum was no life for a woman. It certainly seemed to agree with Merry.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The march from Lavos to Lugar the next day was, for Esmeralda, much the same as that from Figueira to Lavos. For the men there were differences. A far stricter watch was kept by the officers all along the route, and fewer fell out of ranks. Problems in the quarters were much the same but were easier to deal with because of past experience, and Robert was much more cautious about entering rooms without announcing himself so there were no further embarrassing incidents, a little to Esmeralda’s regret. On August 10 they came to Leiria.

  This was a town of modest size rather than a village. Sir Arthur took over a decent inn, and all of the officers had clean and comfortable lodgings. The state of the men was not as good. When they had camped near villages, the people, either because they were truly glad to see the English or as a preventive measure, had been most hospitable. They had carried fruit out to the camps, oranges, melons, grapes, and figs, and even brought calves to be slaughtered to add to the salt meat and biscuit the men were issued. The townsfolk of Leiria were not so generous.

  There was a magazine of supplies in the town, collected by the Portuguese authorities for the sustenance of the troops. However, it was seized by General Freire, who then refused to share it with the English. He also refused to cooperate further with Sir Arthur, insisting that the English supply any Portuguese troops who followed the coast roa
d. Sir Arthur refused to do this, partly because he did not think it reasonable but also because he did not think most of the Portuguese troops reliable enough to be of much assistance. Eventually a compromise was reached. About two hundred sixty of the Portuguese cavalry and sixteen hundred infantry were to accompany the English under the command of Colonel Trant. The remainder of Freire’s army was to remain near Leiria to protect Sir Arthur’s rear.

  Robert was so busy and so furious that he had no time to ponder any personal concerns. He was aware only subliminally of the comfort Esmeralda brought him by providing for his physical needs and by listening sympathetically to the tirades it was not safe to express elsewhere. As one of the senior ADCs, it was Robert’s duty to soothe the younger men so that they would not show their true feelings even by cold looks or haughty manners and complicate or perhaps ruin Sir Arthur’s negotiations. Had Robert not had Esmeralda to confide in, he might have burst.

  Over the days of the march, owing partly to conversations with Robert, partly to her casual snippets of talk with the young officers, and partly to the tales and anecdotes she heard from Molly and her husband, Esmeralda had begun to identify with the army. Thus, her response to Robert became deeper and more sincere. The army became her army, and she encouraged Robert to tell her everything he could because of genuine interest rather than because she wished to please him.

  As a result, Esmeralda’s indignation about the treatment they were receiving from Freire was sincere, but she was herself so happy that she could always see a small advantage here and there to ameliorate the problems Robert described. Her days were very full. Good fabrics were to be had to make gowns. Robert’s friends and many of the young officers from the regiments were very much at home in her apartment. Carlos was there to be taught both English and the fine points of being an excellent servant.

  Only two shadows clouded Esmeralda’s serene sky. One had existed from the beginning, how was she to make her marriage real? The other was new. As the army became more real to her, its purpose also became more real. The English were in Portugal to make war on the French. Men died in war. Too often now, when Esmeralda talked and laughed with the young men who sought comfort and entertainment in her quarters, a chill of fear would pass over her. And Robert… He, too, was flesh and blood. He, too, was vulnerable.

  Late in the evening of August 12, the second of Esmeralda’s clouds gathered substance and blotted out the brightness in her life. She knew that something important was about to happen because none of her usual guests showed up for tea and Robert was unusually late in returning after dinner, but she was at first fooled by Robert’s sparkling eyes and brilliant smile, especially since it was quite apparent that the gaiety was not owing to drink.

  “Something has gone right at last, I see,” she said. “Can you tell me?”

  “We are moving out tomorrow,” Robert replied, tossing his hat into the nearest chair. “And we will be rid of General Freire.”

  “I am delighted we will be shot of Freire.” Esmeralda laughed and shook her head. “But I cannot quite match your enthusiasm for leaving Leiria if we are to be again quartered in villages.” Nonetheless, she was smiling as brightly as he. If Robert was happy, a few fleas were nothing to Esmeralda.

  “Oh, you won’t be going—at least, not tomorrow,” Robert told her. “Sir Arthur is leaving most of the baggage train here until we have some definite news of the French.”

  It was lightly said as Robert walked toward the table where several bottles of wine and glasses stood ready, but Esmeralda caught a peculiar sidelong glance from him as he went by the chair in which she was sitting. She rose to her feet as he passed and barely prevented herself from catching at him. It was the look that held her back; she took warning from it and choked down the impulse to throw her arms around him and plead to be taken along. By now Esmeralda knew enough about military matters to understand that if Sir Arthur had decided to leave his baggage train behind, it was not just news of the French he expected to find, but their army.

  Fighting the terror that threatened to choke her, Esmeralda said, “You will not leave me for long, will you? I-I will be very eager for news.”

  Robert turned toward her, smiling. He had almost expected her to say, “Thank God,” or just, “Oh, very well.” Instead, her statement that she was eager for news gave him an intense pleasure that he did not understand, but he just accepted the warmth and gladness as part of the general feeling of joy Esmeralda produced in him. The clear thought in his mind was that Merry was the most perfect girl. She never made a fuss.

  “Perhaps I could come back tomorrow night,” Robert said. “We won’t have moved too far for me to ride in if I can get leave from Sir Arthur.”

  “Oh, please do, Robert,” Esmeralda cried. She was about to say she would be worried sick if he did not come, but she bit that back, remembering that she had resolved not to ask for any attention that if necessarily neglected would place a burden of guilt on him. Instead, she added, “And if there is no sign of the French, I could move forward with you in the morning, could I not?”

  “I suppose that would be safe enough,” Robert replied slowly, again feeling inordinately pleased, but then his conscience smote him. “But why should you? You will be more comfortable here.”

  “I was only joking about the bad accommodation in the villages, truly I was,” Esmeralda assured him, struggling to prevent a note of pleading from entering her voice. “If I move up, you see, I will still be in reach the following day…” She hesitated, unsure of how far it would be safe to go, and then said uncertainly, “Unless it would be too much trouble for you to ride back each night like that.”

  “No trouble at all.” Without analyzing the idea, he knew he would go as far as necessary to join Esmeralda.

  They discussed the route the army would take and the fact that he and Esmeralda would have to be on the road just at dawn to be certain that Robert would arrive at Sir Arthur’s headquarters, wherever it might be, by the time his commanding officer might want him. A number of practical complications arose from Robert’s spending his nights apart from the other ADCs, but he soon found a reason for his eagerness to involve himself in so much trouble.

  “It will be much easier for me, too, if I ride down with you in the morning,” Esmeralda had just assured him, laughingly. “That way I will have the whole day to get the fleas out of the place instead of only a few hours, and you will not return to find me most improperly clad.”

  Robert laughed, too, but a disconcerting vision of Esmeralda in pantalets rose again in his mind. He blanked out the vision most firmly. Of course, he told himself, it is perfectly reasonable to look forward to decent lodgings. An hour’s ride is well worth a full night’s sleep and an escape from scratching all the next day.

  In any event, Robert did not take Esmeralda with him the next day. There was no place for her to stay. Sir Arthur himself had found nothing better than a miserable mud hut, and when Robert left, the staff had been settling down to sleep—if it could be called sleep—under a nearby tree.

  “They called me all the names they could think of when I got permission to come back,” he said, laughing. “Sir Arthur wasn’t pleased, but he conceded that it was necessary to reassure you that all was well, so long as I was on duty by six.”

  “I won’t mind staying wherever Sir Arthur was,” Esmeralda offered. “We have the cots, and I can load Luisa with food. Molly would follow me, too, I’m sure.”

  Robert shook his head firmly, insisting that the place was not fit for her. She did not argue, only lowered her eyes to her hands, which were tightly clasped in her lap. Somehow Robert could not say the words he had planned, which were that in a few days, as soon as they found a satisfactory place to camp, the whole baggage train would follow since it would be necessary to bring supplies. Instead, he laughed and told her that he was growing addicted to the fleshpots of Leiria himself and would come for her the next night if it were possible.

  As he said it, he wond
ered if he were mad. It would mean riding twenty miles in the dark after a full day of scouting the road ahead and riding up and down the line of march with messages and reprimands from Wellesley to his line officers. But Merry’s beautiful eyes had risen to his, glowing with gratitude when she said she knew she was being ridiculous and that he must not put himself to so much trouble to satisfy her whim. So Robert laughed again and said not to worry about that.

  They reached Alcobaça on August 14 and learned that a brigade of the French army under Thomières had been there until the preceding day and that General Delaborde was somewhere to the south in the area of Óbidos with a weak division. Clearly the French were drawing together and would make contact within a day or two.

  Robert was aware of an unaccustomed dichotomy in his emotions when he heard these reports. Normally the information that action was near thrilled him. After a battle, when he saw the dead and, more particularly, the wounded, he felt regrets, but beforehand he thought only of the excitement, of the thunder of the guns and the exhilaration of riding with messages and seeing the results of the troop move­ments. This time he also felt a sharp pang of disappointment. Perhaps it would be unwise to bring Merry so close to the action.

  Almost immediately Robert banished the disappointing doubts. Merry would not be near the action at all. Thomières was no longer in the area. Óbidos was over seventeen miles south of Alcobaça. Surely she would be in no more danger staying in Alcobaça than in Leiria. If they retreated—and Robert did not really believe that any retreat would be necessary, the troops were in good condition, morale was high, and Sir Arthur had not yet lost a battle—Merry would be well in advance of retrograde movement. Thus, it would be perfectly safe to bring her to Alcobaça.

  When Robert again asked permission to return to Leiria, Sir Arthur looked at him most peculiarly, however, since there were several other officers in the room, he did not comment cynically about Robert’s being surprisingly attentive for a husband engaged in a marriage of convenience, which he might have done had they been alone. Nor did he make any objection to the request because Robert had been waiting that morning with the other ADCs when Sir Arthur had finished shaving and been ready to give orders. In fact, Sir Arthur was beginning to believe that what had started as an act of duty had turned into a love affair. A romantic himself, although he kept his soft heart very well hidden, Sir Arthur felt considerable empathy with his handsome young ADC. If he wished to spend a last night with his love, why not?