Chapter Seven
Following the French company without being detected was easy as they left a trail of horse dung and dust. They rode their cavalry horses into the ground and so they also left the smell of suppurating saddle-sores behind them.
'Smith, when do you think they will look for somewhere to hide for the day?' They were riding boot to boot and he was able to pitch his voice so quietly it was barely audible.
'I reckon just before dawn. They'll not want to be on the track when the sun comes up. I ain't surprised they're travelling at night. I'm going ahead, I'll be back before light. We needs to be clear where they are.'
They continued for another hour and then he noticed that the route ahead was becoming clearer – it would be dawn soon. Beau guided his horses off the route and into a small stony area behind some scrubby trees. The air was full of the scent of herbs and he inhaled appreciatively.
He pulled the reins over the stallion's head and dropped them. This was sufficient to keep the animal close as he had been trained not to wander off when his reins were trailing. All that was left to do was tether the other animal. He waited behind a tree for his companion to return.
How long would it take Jenkins to bring a company of English cavalry? It couldn't be infantry, they couldn't be here soon enough even if they marched in double time. He tensed. There was more than one horseman approaching so it couldn't be Smith. He ducked down behind the trees and backed to his horse. 'Quiet, old fellow, don't make a sound.' He snatched the reins and rested his gloved hand on the animal's nose.
A group of about a dozen mounted men appeared around the corner. It was just light enough to see that Smith wasn't with them, but he was certain they were not French. He was going to let them pass but on closer inspection he was convinced by their fierce appearance and healthy horses that they must be partisans. Of course, not all of the guerrillas fighting the French were prepared to work with the English.
He stepped into full view and greeted them in Spanish. 'Good morning to you, I am Silchester, I have news that might be of interest to you.' He had their full attention. 'I'm also looking for my brother, Lord Peregrine Sheldon, he has been missing somewhere in these hills since July.'
Immediately a ripple of something he didn't recognise travelled through the group. They all dismounted and one man, presumably the leader, walked up to him smiling broadly. He replied in the same tongue. 'You are the Duke of Silchester? We have your brother, Lord Peregrine, living with us. It's God's will that we have met you in this extraordinary fashion. I am Carlos, son of Don Pablo, and leader of this band.'
Beau gripped the man's outstretched hand fiercely and then embraced him. His throat was thick, he blinked furiously to clear his eyes and sent up a prayer to the Almighty for granting him his dearest wish.
'I knew Perry wasn't dead. Is he badly injured?'
Carlos laughed, the sound echoing off the cliffs that surrounded them. 'He is healthy, sir, but blind. He doesn't know who he is and will be shocked to discover he's an aristocrat.'
'Then how did you know it is he that I was looking for?' As soon as he asked he knew the question to be ridiculous. There was hardly likely to be more than one Englishman wandering about the place.
'The one thing he did know was that his name was Perry – so mystery solved. What was it you wish to tell us?'
He quickly explained about the French. 'Your man hasn't returned and we didn't any see French on our patrol. Only God Almighty knows where they might be hiding.'
'If you would kindly direct me to your village, I should like to go there immediately and be reunited with my sibling.'
'I shall do better than that, I shall take you myself. My men will go in search of the missing company.' He gave his orders briskly and all but one of them remounted and rode off. The remaining partisan was to wait and bring the cavalry to join the others wherever they might be.
Beau was not a fighting man, although he would do so if the lives of any of his loved ones or himself was at stake. He rather thought he had disappointed Carlos by not insisting on going in search of the French and joining in the attack that would follow.
'Tell me exactly how my brother came to be with you.' He listened and at the end of the story he knew that he and his family would be forever indebted to this man and his family. He was intrigued by the mention of the English girl and her mother who were apparently living happily in their midst.
'Why have they not returned to England?'
'They have nothing to go back to. They prefer to make their life with us and they are now part of our town. The Señora Appleby is to marry my father, Don Pablo.' He hesitated and when he spoke again there was sadness in his voice. 'I had hoped to marry Sofia, but she has set her sights on your brother and has no time for me.'
This was not good news. For Perry to have become entangled with someone who might be totally unsuitable could be a problem – but he was sure the matter could be smoothed over if sufficient money was involved.
*
Sofia scarcely knew what she had eaten that night, but all of it was delicious. She had drifted, always with Perry at her side, from one group to the next and everyone had congratulated her and wished her well.
He insisted on walking her home although she was quite capable of completing the journey without his assistance. She rather feared this was his nature, that by marrying him she would spend the rest of her life being taken care of, protected from the slightest injury, and not allowed to make decisions for herself.
'Perry, this is happening too fast. It's entirely my fault but could I ask you if we could postpone our nuptials for a while until we have had time to adjust to the new circumstances?'
'Absolutely not. You could be carrying my child – we shall be married at the earliest possible opportunity and I'll brook no disagreement on this matter.'
They had now reached her front door. 'Then I must just pray our priest does not arrive for several weeks as by then it will be clear if I am in the family way. If I am not then there is no necessity for us to marry at all. Good night, my lord.'
She skipped inside before he could react to her inflammatory statement and quickly slid the bolt across so he could not barge his way in. She stood quivering behind the door waiting for his assault. To her chagrin she could definitely hear him whistling as he walked away.
