'I'm sorry to be so long,' she said.
'There's no hurry, Miss Piper.'
'What exactly did Captain Rawson say?'
'That he was anxious to speak with you.' Catto extended an arm to indicate the way. 'Come with me, if you will.'
'Thank you.'
They walked on in silence. Abigail was so pleased at the invitation that she placed complete trust in the man who had brought it to her. It was a long walk but she was untroubled by that. It gave her time to rehearse what she was going to say to Daniel.
Eventually, they reached the tent where Catto had spent the night. He pulled back the flap and gestured for her to enter. Expecting to see Daniel Rawson, Emily went in with a broad smile of her face. It soon vanished. The only things there were piles of assorted supplies. Before she could say a word, she felt hand covering her mouth to prevent her screaming. Charles Catto put the barrel of a pistol against her temple. His voice was low and caressing.
'I'm so glad to be alone with you at last, Miss Piper,' he said, inhaling her perfume. 'Captain Rawson is delayed at the moment but I'm confident that he'll be joining us in due course.'
CHAPTER TWELVE
Abigail Piper was petrified. The pistol was only resting gently against her temple but it seemed to be burrowing into her skull. Her whole head felt as if it were on fire. Charles Catto removed his hand from her mouth but, even without the threat of death, she would have been unable to speak. Her mouth was dry, her heart racing and her brain numb. She had been taken in completely by the man's appearance and polite manner. The promise of a meeting with Daniel Rawson had been dangled in front of her and she had never questioned it for a second. She squirmed as she recalled how gullible she had been. In entering the tent so willingly with a stranger, she had stepped into a nightmare.
'Do exactly as I say,' he told her, 'or I'll have no compunction about pulling the trigger. Do you understand?'
'Yes,' she croaked.
'Good.'
Keeping the pistol levelled at her, he stepped back to appraise Abigail properly. He flashed a smile of approval that sent shivers right through her. Catto gestured at a large wooden box and she moved across to sit on it, perching uneasily on the very edge. She eventually found the courage to ask a question.
'Who are you?'
'Someone who controls your destiny,' he said meaningfully.
'What do you have against me? Eve done you no harm.'
'You're about to do me a great deal of good, Miss Piper.'
'Must you point that gun at me?' she said nervously.
'Not if we come to an amicable agreement,' he replied. 'If you swear to make no attempt to escape, or even to cry out, then I'll stop waving this pistol at you. Should you do either of those things,' he added coldly, 'you'll be dead within a second.' He lowered the weapon and rested it against his thigh. Abigail relaxed slightly but remained fearful. 'There now — does that feel better?'
'Yes.'
'Do I have your word that you'll keep your side of the bargain?'
'Yes, you do.'
'Thank you.' He sat down on a box between her and the tent flap, blocking any sudden dash she might make. 'Then we can we make ourselves comfortable for a while and become more closely acquainted.'
'What are you going to do with me?'
'In the first instance, I shall take a stroll with you.'
'A stroll?' she echoed in surprise.
'Yes, Miss Piper. 'When a soldier and a young lady are seen walking together in camp, the natural assumption is that they are husband and wife or, at the very least, betrothed to each other. In short, nobody will challenge us. It all depends on your doing exactly what you are told, of course,' he went on, holding up the pistol. 'Open your mouth to call for help and it's the last thing you'll ever do.'
Abigail was bewildered. 'Why do you wish to walk with me?'
'Any red-blooded man would wish to do that. You are positively delightful. As it happens, though, I have a very special reason for desiring your company. And I know that you enjoy an evening stroll,' he said with a smirk. 'It was not so long ago that I saw you and Captain Rawson sauntering along beside a stream.'
Abigail quailed. His comment hit her with the force of a blow and she was stunned. Words tried to form themselves on her lips but no sound came out. Catto read her thoughts.
'That's correct,' he admitted. 'I was hiding in the bushes on the other side of that stream. I watched you both for some time. But I did not fire the shot at Captain Rawson,' he emphasised. 'Had I done so, he would no longer be alive. I'm renowned for my accuracy with a flintlock pistol. Please bear that in mind.'
'Who did shoot at Daniel — at Captain Rawson?' she asked.
'It was a foolish mistake.'
'He might have been killed.'
'There was also the danger that you might have been hit, Miss Piper, and that would have been a dreadful loss. The person who did fire that shot has been sternly admonished, believe me.'
'Why did he shoot?'
'He acted on impulse.'
'But why aim the gun at Captain Rawson?'
'That's a private matter,' he said blandly, 'and I don't think, in any case, that you'd care to know the details. It might damage your high opinion of the captain.'
'I doubt that,' she said, showing a little spirit at last. 'Captain Rawson is an officer, a gentleman and a hero. You'll answer to him for this outrageous behaviour.'
Catto was amused. 'Indeed?'
'I demand that you release me at once.'
'You're not exactly in a position to make any demands,' he said, holding up the pistol. 'Instead of issuing orders, your job is simply to obey them.'
'Who are you?' she cried.
'Oh, I'm not a very interesting topic for conversation, Miss Piper. You, on the other hand, certainly are. Since we have some time on our hands before we leave, perhaps you'd tell me a little about yourself. Evidently you come from a good family,' he went on, eyes roving all over her, 'and I can hear the breeding in your voice. Tell me who you are and how you came to befriend Captain Daniel Rawson.' When she refused to answer, his tone was menacing. 'I won't ask you again.'
Edward Marston
Soldier of Fortune
Though the Confederate army had stayed in their camp, they were not allowed a complete rest. Soldiers in the British regiments were drilled on open ground. When he had fought alongside Marshal Turenne in the French army, the Duke of Marlborough had been struck by the superior discipline of the troops. It was not only by virtue of greater numbers, better equipment and more powerful artillery that they held sway over all other European armies. French soldiers had been trained and drilled to a degree that gave them a considerable advantage over their enemies and helped them to achieve a long series of successive victories. Marlborough had taken note. Among the improvements he had made to the British army was his insistence on thorough preparation.
It depended to some extent on the lungs of his drill sergeants and, as far as Henry Welbeck was concerned, his commander had no cause for complaint. Welbeck's voice rang out like a roll of thunder. Never daring to put a foot out of line, his troops kept to the drum-calls and went briskly through their routines. Daniel felt a pang of regret as he observed how many were now missing from the ranks. When they were dismissed, the soldiers drifted past him and he had a friendly word with several of them. Welbeck eventually came over to him.
'You certainly put them through their paces,' said Daniel. 'That was a most impressive display, Henry.'
'You have to drive them hard or they lose discipline in battle. We have to remember that most of these men didn't want to join the army, Dan. They did so under compulsion or because they had some stupid idea of being heroes. Ha!' he exclaimed. 'A lot of these so-called heroes come from the gutter or from prison. We have the dregs of London inside those red uniforms.'
'Not any more,' argued Daniel. 'You've turned them into good soldiers and responsible human beings. You converted them, Henry.'
'You make me sound like a bloody chaplain.'
'Have you never considered taking holy orders?'
'I'd sooner eat horse shit!'
'I could just see you in a pulpit.'
'Then I'd probably be setting fire to it,' said Welbeck. 'You know my feelings about religion. It's a trick played on the innocent fools.'
'I don't regard myself as either innocent or foolish.'
'And I don't you regard you as a true Christian. Oh, I know you read your Bible and attend church parades but, then, the Devil can cite Scripture for his purposes.'
Daniel grinned. 'Are you calling me a devil?'
'Well, you're certainly no angel.'
'None of us is, Henry — we have blood on our hands.'
'That's another thing,' said Welbeck. 'One of the Ten Commandments forbids you to kill. How many times have you broken that particular commandment, Dan?'
'I'm not getting into a theological argument with you,' said Daniel amiably. 'I just wanted to give you advance warning. When we've got our breath back, it seems as if we're going to cross the Danube and lay siege to Rain.'
'Why?'
'It's directly in our line of march.'
'That means I'll lose more of my men to the gravediggers.'
'Rain is not a big town, by all accounts. It shouldn't hold us up for long or cost us many lives. The other piece of news that might interest you is that Abigail Piper is leaving us tomorrow.'
'That calls for a celebration!' said Welbeck.
'You don't even know the young lady.'
'I know two things about her, Dan, and they both worry me. First, she's a woman. Second, she almost got you killed. Put it this way,' he went on as Daniel tried to protest, 'would you have gone walking alone outside the perimeter of the camp?'
'No, Henry.'
'Then she led you into danger.'
'Not deliberately,' said Daniel. 'Abigail was as much at risk as me so you could claim that I led her into danger.'
'You're as bad as each other. Good riddance to her, I say!'
'I'll take a rather fonder farewell than that.'
'Are you going to see her now?' Daniel nodded. 'Then I ought to come with you to stand guard. I know what fond farewells can do. I must have lost over a dozen men who went to wave off their sweethearts then never came back again.'
'There's no chance of my deserting, Henry. All that I intend to do is to wish her well on the journey. What harm is there in that?'
'Miss Piper is a woman and women are made of harm.'
'You malign the sex unjustly,' said Daniel, laughing at his friend's curt misogyny. 'But you won't be able to grumble about Abigail for much longer. This time tomorrow, she'll be miles from here.' He set off. 'I'll see you later, Henry.'
'Make sure you come without her,' Welbeck called after him.
Daniel had long ago divined the source of Welbeck's hatred of women. The sergeant came from a family that consisted of a tyrannical mother and three older sisters, all of whom made his life a misery. Outnumbered and too small to fight back, he had endured the persecution until he was old enough to run off to the army. Behind his loathing of the opposite sex was a lurking fear of them. While he would readily confront any foe in battle, Welbeck was quietly terrified of being left alone with a woman. In that respect, he and Daniel were worlds apart. His friend might flee from intimacy and hide behind his alleged contempt for women but Daniel always welcomed closeness.
After striding through the camp, he reached Abigail's tent and called out her name. It was Emily Greene who emerged to give him a token curtsey.
'Good afternoon, Captain Rawson,' she said.
'Hello, Emily. I was hoping to see your mistress.'
'She went off to your tent over an hour ago, sir.'
'Did she?' said Daniel in surprise. 'Then she must have lost her way. I was there most of the afternoon and saw no sign of her.'
'A soldier brought a message from you.'
'What message?'
'It was an invitation to join you,' said Emily, starting to worry. 'I helped Miss Abigail to get ready then the man took her off. He was a private from your regiment, Captain Rawson.'
'Well, I certainly never sent him.'
'Then who could he be?'
'That's exactly what I'm asking myself,' said Daniel, controlling his disquiet. 'It would have taken her no more than five minutes to reach my tent from here yet you say she's been gone for over an hour.'
'Yes, sir.'
'Did this man give a name?'
'No, Captain Rawson. He just passed on his message.'
'I'd never have sent a verbal invitation. I'd have done Miss Piper the courtesy of writing a short note to her. Let's go back to the start, Emily,' he advised. 'Describe this man as accurately as you can then tell me precisely what he said.'
Emily gulped. 'Do you think Miss Abigail is in trouble, sir?'
'I think we need to find her as quickly as possible,' said Daniel seriously. 'Now — what did this man look like?'
She could not believe it. Abigail Piper was surrounded by thousands of soldiers yet not one of them came to her aid. After being imprisoned in the tent for a while, she was forced to walk out on the arm of her captor. Before she did so, she let her handkerchief drop behind the box in the hope that it would be found and act as a clue to her disappearance. She prayed that the man beside her would make a mistake and arouse the suspicions of the sentries. It did not happen. Charles Catto had enough confidence to chat freely with the pickets as he and Abigail went past them. She could not understand why they did not recognise the distress she was in. Abigail was exuding fear and panic yet nobody seemed to notice. All that the men observed were her youthful beauty and her shapely figure.
Once outside the perimeter, they took a leisurely stroll in the direction of some trees. Abigail was on tenterhooks. The farther away they went from the safety of the camp, the more rattled she became. The fact that she had no idea who her companion was and what designs he might have upon her, made it even worse. The man had given nothing away. He had interrogated her about her friendship with Daniel Rawson and was very pleased when she told him that she had left England solely in order to follow the captain. Encouraged by the man, she had found herself talking more candidly about her feelings than she had done to Daniel himself, admitting how those feelings had changed somewhat in the wake of the battle.
As long as she was in the camp, there had always been an outside chance that she would be missed then sought out. It was a thought that had sustained her throughout her incarceration in the tent with an armed man. In the event, nobody seemed aware that she had gone astray and she was now taken out of reach of any possible rescue. Approaching the copse, she suddenly stopped.
'Let me go,' she pleaded. 'Im no use to you.'
'On the contrary,' said Catto, 'you are of great use.'
'If it's money you want, I have some that I can give you.'
'I need a lot more than money from you, Miss Piper.'
'Where are we going?'
'Keep walking.'
'We're not supposed to be outside the boundary of the camp.'
'Keep walking,' he ordered, tightening his grip on her arm so that he could pull her forward. 'You've behaved yourself this far, Miss Piper. If you become obstructive, I shall get very angry.'
'I just want to know what's happening!' she exclaimed.
'We are going for a pleasant walk, that's all.'
'Where are you taking me?'
'Stop asking questions.'
'I want to know what's going on.'
'Come now, Miss Piper,' he said. 'You're an intelligent young lady. You must have worked it out by now. You're being kidnapped.'
Edward Marston
Soldier of Fortune
The search was systematic and wide-ranging. Organised by Daniel Rawson, teams of men scoured the camp in the fading light and looked into every tent and wagon. To his credit, Sergeant Henry Welbeck suppressed any comments he might have wished to make abou
t the troublesome nature of women and joined in the hunt with enthusiasm. Having investigated every inch of the route between the tent where Abigail Piper had been staying and Daniel's quarters, they broadened the search. When it failed to find any trace of the missing person, Daniel was baffled.
'Somebody must have seen her, Henry,' he said to Welbeck. 'She was the sort of young lady to turn heads.'
'More than heads, from what I gather,' murmured Welbeck.
'She simply has to be here.'
'Well, we can find neither hide nor hair of her, Dan. My guess is that she may no longer be in the camp.'
'Where else can she be?'
'I've been thinking about that description you gave me of the man who may have abducted her. The beard deceived me at the start until I realised that he might have grown it since we last saw him.'
'Who?'
'That skulking deserter,' said Welbeck. 'Private Will Curtis.'
Daniel started. 'Would he be bold enough to sneak back into the camp?' he asked, disturbed by the notion.
'He was bold enough to try to behead you, Dan, and — if my guess is right — he was daring enough to fire that shot at you. Curtis is as bold as brass. It was the first thing I noticed about the bugger.'
They were still speculating on what might have happened to Abigail when a corporal brought a man over to them who wore the uniform of the Dutch army.
'This is Private Berchem,' said the corporal. 'He's a blacksmith, sir. His English is poor but he thinks he can help us.'
'Can you?' asked Daniel, speaking to him in Dutch.
'I hope so, sir,' replied the man. 'I was shoeing a horse when they went past me. They were only yards away.'
'What did you see?'
'I saw a British soldier and a beautiful young lady. I wondered why they were so close to the Dutch camp. The last time I saw them, they went towards a large tent.'
'Did you see them go into it?' pressed Daniel.
'No, sir,' said the man. 'When you are hammering a horseshoe into place, you have to keep your eyes on what you are doing. But I fancy that they might have gone into the tent.'
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