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‘Ah, Robert. Everything go as planned?’
‘Yes, pretty much.’
‘The men will be pleased. That last barrel of salt pork was so rancid it could have been used as a weapon of terror. If we’d fired it at the French they’d have been in full retreat by now.’
Falconbridge smiled. ‘Maybe we should try it next time.’ He nodded towards the paper on the table. ‘Letter home, Tony?’
‘Yes. I’ve been meaning to do it for the past fortnight and never got the chance. I must get it finished before I go.’
‘Before you go where?’
‘The Sierra de Gredos. Ward has me lined up for a further meeting with El Cuchillo.’
The name of the guerrilla leader was well known. For some time he had been passing information to the English in exchange for guns. Since the intelligence provided had been reliable, General Ward was keen to maintain the relationship.
‘You’ll be gone for a couple of weeks then.’
‘I expect so.’
Falconbridge glanced towards the partially written letter. ‘I sometimes think war is hardest on those left behind.’
‘As a single man you haven’t got that worry.’
‘Nor would I seek it, notwithstanding your most excellent example.’
Brudenell shook his head. ‘I am hardly an excellent example. Indeed it has been so long since I saw my wife that she has likely forgotten what I look like.’
‘That must be hard.’
‘Not in the least. Ours was an arranged marriage with no choice offered to either party. I am quite sure that Claudia enjoys an agreeable lifestyle in London without being overly troubled by my absence.’
The tone was cheerful enough but Falconbridge glimpsed something very like bleakness in those startling blue eyes. Then it was gone. Privately he owned to surprise, for while he knew that his friend was married, he had only ever referred to the matter in the most general terms, until now. The subject was not one that Falconbridge would have chosen to discuss anyway. Even after all this time it was an aspect of the past that he preferred to forget.
It seemed he wasn’t going to be allowed that luxury as Brudenell continued,
‘Have you never been tempted to take the plunge?’
‘I almost did once but the lady cried off.’
‘I’m sorry to hear it.’
Falconbridge achieved a faint shrug. ‘Don’t be. It was undoubtedly a lucky escape. Ever since then I’ve preferred to take my pleasure where I find it.’
‘Very wise.’
‘You condemn matrimony then?’
‘Not so,’ said Brudenell, ‘though I would certainly caution against arranged matches.’
‘Advice I shall heed, I promise you.’
‘Of course, you might meet the right woman. Have you considered that?’
‘I’ve yet to meet any woman with whom I would wish to spend the rest of my life,’ replied Falconbridge. ‘The fair sex is charming but they are capricious and, in my experience, not to be trusted. Brief liaisons with women of a certain class are far more satisfactory.’
‘You are a cynic, my friend.’
‘No, I am a realist.’
What Brudenell might have said in response was never known because an adjutant appeared at the door. He looked at Falconbridge.
‘Beg pardon, Major, but General Ward requires your presence at once.’
‘Very well. I’ll attend him directly.’
As the adjutant departed, the two men exchanged glances. Falconbridge raised an eyebrow.
‘This should be interesting.’
‘A euphemism if ever I heard one,’ replied his companion.
‘Well, I’ll find out soon enough I expect.’
With that, Falconbridge ducked out of the room and was gone.
It was late afternoon of the following day before Sabrina and her companions crossed the Roman bridge over the Agueda River, and reached the rendezvous in the Castillo at Ciudad Rodrigo. After the siege in January that year, the French had been driven out by British troops. Capture of the town and the big artillery batteries on the Great Teson had opened up the eastern corridor for Wellington’s advance into Spain. The Castillo was a hive of activity. The guards at the gate of the fortress recognised the party in the wagon and sent word of their approach, so that by the time they drew to a halt in the courtyard Albermarle was waiting. The Colonel was in his mid-fifties and of just above the average height, but for all his grey hairs he was of an upright bearing and the blue eyes were sharp and astute. When he saw Sabrina his craggy face lit with a smile.
‘You’re late, my dear. I was getting worried.’
‘We had a damaged wheel, sir, and it took longer than expected to repair.’
‘Unfortunate, but these things happen. Any other trouble on the way?’
For a moment Major Falconbridge’s face swam into her memory. She pushed it aside.
‘No.’
‘Good.’ He eyed the oranges on the wagon. ‘And the guns?’
Sabrina nodded to Ramon. He pushed aside part of the top layer of fruit and lifted the sacking on which it rested to reveal the stocks of the Baker rifles beneath. Albermarle smiled.
‘You’ve done well, my dear, as always.’ He eyed her dusty garments and then went on, ‘Lodgings have been arranged for you nearby. You’ll find Jacinta there with your things. When you’ve had a chance to bathe and change we’ll have dinner together.’
‘That sounds delightful, sir.’
‘Good. We’ll talk then.’
Sabrina rejoined him some time later, elegantly gowned in a sprigged muslin frock and with her hair neatly dressed. The meal was good and so far removed from the rations of the last few days that she ate with real enjoyment. Her companion kept the conversation to general topics but, knowing him of old, she sensed there was something on his mind. In this she was correct, though the matter was not broached until they had finished eating and were lingering over the remains of the wine. The colonel leaned back in his chair, surveying her keenly.
‘Have you thought any more about our last conversation, my dear?’
‘Yes, and my answer is the same.’
‘I thought it might be.’ He smiled gently. ‘Does England hold no charms for you then?’
‘I barely remember the place, much less my aunt’s family. It is kind of her to offer me a home but I would feel like a fish out of water. My life has revolved around the army. Father could have left me behind in England when he went abroad, but he chose not to and I’m glad of it.’
‘I have known your father a long time. John Huntley was always an unusual man, some might even say eccentric, but he is brave and honourable and I am proud to count him among my friends. He is also a very fine cartographer.’
‘Yes, he is, and it’s thanks to him that I have received such an unusual education. How many young women have been where I’ve been or done what I’ve done?’
He chuckled. ‘Precious few I imagine.’
‘I have sometimes thought that it might be pleasant to have a permanent home and to attend parties and balls and the like, but the bohemian life is not without its charms, too. I suppose the habit has become ingrained, even though Father is gone.’
‘You miss him, don’t you?’
‘It has been four months now, but not a day passes when I don’t think of him.’
‘His capture was a severe blow to the army.’
‘I can’t bear to think of him languishing somewhere in a French prison. I cling to the hope that one day he will be freed and I shall see him again.’
‘When the war is over who knows what may happen?’
She sighed. ‘I think that day is far off.’
‘I know how lonely you must be without him.’ He hesitated. ‘Did you never think about settling down?’
‘Marriage?’ She shook her head. ‘I have never been in one place long enough to form that kind of attachment.’
‘Just so, my dear, and it worries me.’
‘There is no need, sir, truly. Father took pains to ensure I was well provided for.’
‘It is a godfather’s privilege to be concerned,’ he replied.
She returned his smile. ‘When I find another man like you I may consider settling down. In the meantime it is my duty to do my part for king and country.’
‘Are you sure, my dear?’
‘Quite sure.’ She paused, her gaze searching his face. ‘There’s something in the wind, isn’t there?’
‘Am I so transparent?’
‘I’ve known you a long time, sir.’
‘True. And you’re right. There is a mission in the offing.’
‘May I know what it is?’
‘Even I don’t have all the details yet. All I can tell you is that it is top level. I have a meeting in the morning with General Ward and Major Forbes.’
‘Major Forbes is one of Wellington’s leading intelligence officers.’
‘Yes, he is.’ He paused. ‘What is more, he has asked that you should be present at the briefing tomorrow.’
Her astonishment was unfeigned. While she had undertaken several missions in the last year they were all low-key affairs involving relatively small risk. This appeared to be rather different. Curiosity vied with a strange feeling of unease. What kind of mission was it that required her involvement? What part would she be asked to play?
For a long time after she retired that night she lay awake pondering what her godfather had said. It wasn’t just the business of the mysterious mission. It was the matter of her future. At some point the war would end and, God willing, her father might be released. However, conditions in French prisons were notoriously bad and she had to face the possibility that he might not survive. What then? Likely she would have no choice but to return to England. However, she had been independent too long ever to live by someone else’s rules. Her aunt meant well but the prospect of life in a small town held no charms. Besides, the only career open to a woman was marriage, an indescribably dull fate after a lifetime of adventure. Happily, that was one problem that wouldn’t affect her. She had learned early that, when it came to matters of the heart, what men said and what they meant were very different things.
For an instant Captain Jack Denton’s image returned, along with its false smile and equally false assurances. Of course, she had been much younger then, barely fifteen. Having no mother or older sisters to advise her, she had been easy prey for a handsome face and polished manner. They had met at her first dance. Ten years older than she, Denton’s attentions had been flattering, and had awakened something inside her whose existence had remained unknown till then. He had recognised it at once. And he had been clever, careful not to move too fast yet leaving her in no doubt of his admiration. Smiles and soft looks and compliments developed into brief stolen meetings, always when her father or his friends were not by, and eventually a tender kiss. It had kindled the spark to a flame that lit her whole being. Utterly infatuated, she never questioned his sincerity or the depth of his feelings.
She swallowed hard. No woman in her right mind would risk making that mistake again. Nor would any woman risk her reputation so foolishly. Her relationships with men were almost entirely professional now. On those occasions when she met them socially she was unfailingly courteous but also careful to keep them at arm’s length. It was better to be free and independent. The only person she could rely on was herself.
In the meantime she must find out what Ward and Forbes were planning, and the only way to do that was to accompany her godfather tomorrow.
Falconbridge lay on his cot, staring into the darkness, his mind too crowded with thoughts for sleep to take him. The meeting with General Ward was still vivid. Though his skills as an intelligence agent had been used many times on different missions, Falconbridge knew this one was different. If it succeeded it could change the whole course of the war, but the hazards were great for all sorts of reasons. It had been madness to agree to do it. The fact that Ward had given him a choice showed that he knew just how much he was asking. However, the offered inducement was also considerable—for an ambitious officer. Ward was fully aware of it, of course, and calculated accordingly. He knew his man. There was no knowing if this would work, but doing nothing was not an option. Had it involved only himself, Falconbridge would have taken on the challenge without demur, even knowing the risks were great. As it was…He had expressed his reservations in the strongest possible terms, and been ignored, of course. He thumped the pillow hard. The General had made up his mind and would not be deterred. It argued a degree of calculated ruthlessness that was almost enviable.
The meeting was arranged for ten o’clock. Sabrina had dressed with care for the occasion, donning a smart primrose-yellow gown. Her hair was neatly arranged beneath a pretty straw bonnet. Having surveyed her reflection in the glass with a critical eye she decided the outfit would pass muster. She and Colonel Albermarle presented themselves at the appointed time. Knowing the army as she did, Sabrina had expected a lengthy wait, but to her surprise they were shown straight in.
General Ward was seated behind the desk at the far end of a large room, and Major Forbes was standing beside him. Both men were poring over a map. As they entered Ward looked up.
‘Ah, Colonel Albermarle.’ As the Colonel came to attention, Ward rose from his seat and bowed to Sabrina. ‘Miss Huntley.’
Sabrina returned the greeting and accepted the offer of a chair. For a moment there was silence and she saw the General exchange glances with Forbes. Then he drew a deep breath.
‘We have requested your presence today in order to put forward a proposition, Miss Huntley.’
‘A proposition, sir?’
‘Yes. One of the carrier pigeons recently returned bearing a coded message. In essence, the Spanish agent who sent it has obtained vital military documents concerning French troop movements. However, his responsibilities in Madrid make it impossible for him to deliver the information to us. Like everyone else in senior government positions he is watched, and cannot afford to do anything that might appear unusual. That means someone must go and collect the information from him.’
Sabrina’s brow wrinkled for a moment. ‘But surely it would be equally suspicious, sir, if he were suddenly visited by a total stranger.’
‘Ordinarily it would. However, the gentleman’s wife is celebrating her birthday next week and he is holding a ball at his mansion near Aranjuez to mark the occasion. It is to be a lavish affair. Everyone who is anyone will be there. It will also provide a perfect opportunity to get hold of the information he has obtained.’
She nodded slowly. ‘I can see that, but I confess to being at a loss as to my role in all this.’
‘Our agent is to impersonate this gentleman’s cousin, the Conde de Ordoñez y Casal. The real one lives on his estate in Extremadura. Apparently he prefers the pleasures of country life to those of the city and almost never goes there.’
‘But isn’t there a chance someone will know him and spot the deception?’
‘It’s an outside chance but one we have to take,’ the General replied.
‘I still don’t understand how all this involves me.’
‘The Conde de Ordoñez is a married man. As such, his wife would certainly attend the ball with him. Our agent must therefore be so accompanied.’ Ward glanced at Forbes who nodded. ‘My informants tell me that Ordoñez’s wife is French and blonde. As I am sure you will appreciate, ma’am, there are not many blonde-haired women hereabouts, and even fewer who speak fluent French as well as their native tongue. Your skill in both languages is well known to us.’ He paused. ‘And you have helped us before.’
