‘Why do you want to take him away? I can take perfectly good care of him ‘ere,’ Bennet said.
Isabel looked around the stinking ward. The dead boy still lay unregarded on his mattress, his sightless eyes staring at the ceiling.
‘No! I can’t leave without you.’ She heard the rising hysteria in her voice as she looked down at Sebastian Alder. ‘You will die here. At Somerton House we can look after you properly. I can get the best doctors ... A nurse ...’
‘And why would a grand lady like you want to do that?’ Bennet sounded derisive.
‘Because,’ she lowered her voice, aware that their little contretemps was attracting attention, ‘your captain is the new Lord Somerton and he should be taken home where he can be looked after properly.’
‘What?’ Corporal Bennet stared at her and then down at his officer. ‘Is this lady stark, staring mad? I’ve known you since you was sixteen years old and you may be many things, but you ain’t no lord.’
Alder waved a hand. ‘I think you need to explain yourself, Lady Somerton, and then leave me in peace.’
‘It’s true, Captain Alder. Your father was James Kingsley, my late husband’s uncle.’
Bennet scoffed. ‘His father was the Reverend Alder of Little Benning in Cheshire and a right decent gentleman too.’
Isabel glared at the little man, tempted to rebuke him for his insolence.
‘The Reverend Alder was hisstepfather.’ She looked down at the wounded man. His eyes were open but unfocussed, and she wondered if he could even hear what she was saying. ‘According to my information, your mother married him when you were two years old. How many times must I repeat it? You are Lord Somerton’s heir.’
Alder frowned as if trying to reconcile what she was saying. He raised a hand and ran it across his eyes. ‘It sounds an incredible tale, but, Lady Somerton, I don’t have the strength to argue with you. If it means that you are intent on removing me to somewhere more pleasant than this charnel house, I can do no more than be much obliged.’
She crouched down beside him, instinctively straighteningthe blanket and the ruined jacket. ‘I know this is a shock. I promise you the full story when you are stronger. For now, we must get you away from this place.’
Sebastian Alder laid a grimy hand on her arm. ‘Do whatever you want with me, Lady Somerton. I am yours to command.’
‘What about me?’ Bennet protested.
‘Bennet comes too.’ Alder’s fingers closed on her sleeve, his voice now so weak she had to bend to hear him. ‘He’s been my batman for fifteen years now. I’m not leaving him.’
‘Of course.’ Isabel glanced at the little corporal. ‘Bennet comes too.’
She smiled at the new Lord Somerton and put her hand over his, gently laying it back on his chest. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be asleep or unconscious.
Rising to her feet, she beckoned Bragge and the coachmen who had pushed past the curtains, one carrying a stretcher. She prayed they were not too late. Even the most innocuous of wounds could kill if not treated properly and she needed the new Lord Somerton to live.
Chapter Two
Sebastian found himself once again on a dusty road in Portugal. Above him, distant black shapes circled in the colourless sky. Sebastian caught his breath, knowing only too well what those ominous birds portended. Somewhere, ahead of them, death had passed this way.
Beside him, his friend, Major Harry Dempster, put out his hand to catch Sebastian’s reins. ‘Alder... no!’
But Sebastian put his heels to his horse and charged ahead of the patrol. He heard the thundering of hooves as Dempster raced to catch him, but it was too late.
His horse shied at the sight of the first body lying sprawled in the roadway, the uniform of Colonel Aradeiras barely visible beneath the film of dust. This man had almost escaped, but they had caught him, a French sabre nearly decapitating his head in one clean slice.
Dempster was once more by his side, but Sebastian barely registered his presence.
‘Go back, Captain Alder,’ his senior officer ordered.
Numbly, Sebastian shook his head. He now knew what lay around the bend in the road, why the carrion birds circled above their heads.
Her father had sent a message to say Inez had left Lisbon with an armed party of his own handpicked men as an escort. In his lodgings, his landlady had prepared his bedchamber with flowers and clean linen, excited at the prospect of thesenhora’s arrival.
The wedding and their few precious days together had been a lifetime ago. Now, to a man, Colonel Aradeiras’ escort lay dead in the dusty road around the broken carriage, no match for the rifles and sabres of the French raiding party. The coach lay on its side, the horses dead in the traces.
Sebastian flung himself off his horse, running blindly towards the broken coach, and found it empty, the upholstery ripped no doubt in a frenzied search for gold.
