For Love and Honor (2 page)

Chapter Two

P
IPPA NEVER THOUGHT
she could so intensely dislike someone as much as she did the arrogant young officer tasked with marching her to Lisbon.

He was a bully, like so many of them. Men, especially young ones, were hard-hearted and selfish. They didn’t understand her. No one did.

She had no trouble keeping up the bruising pace the officer had set. Her maid Lilly was not as fortunate. Lilly didn’t like to ride, another crime Pippa placed at the officer’s feet.

Oh, he was handsome with his dark hair and blue eyes that seemed to go right to the heart of a person. But Pippa’s experience was that the more handsome the man, the more conceited he was. And this Captain Duroy was probably the worst of the lot. Her father had warned her about those sorts of men. He’d told her they could be beasts.

She was so busy engaging her mind in a litany of dislikes about him, she was surprised when he broke out of the riding formation to bring his horse in step with hers.

She kept her gaze on the road ahead.

“How are you faring, Miss Nelson?” he asked. “Are you still put out with me?”

She bit her tongue to keep from answering him. She’d learned early on that men thrived on attention. If she kept silent, he would leave her alone. That’s what her father had advised her to do.

It was also easier to hide her own tongue-tiedness.

“I’m sorry about your books,” he continued as if she had spoken. “However, the French are breathing down our necks, and we must move you to Lisbon with all due haste.”

That was enough. Pippa had never been good at biting her tongue. It was her besetting sin. She had to speak her mind.

“We are traveling southward, Captain,” she informed him coolly. She knew what was going on. She’d grown up in diplomatic and military circles and she listened well. “The French are nowhere close to here.”

To her pleasure, his smile tightened.

“I have been around this war for a long time, sir,” she said. “Do not patronize me. We were perfectly safe to bring my books with me. What I sense is that you wish to be done with the care of me and hurry back to your command so that you don’t miss the fight. Am I wrong?”

“That is my purpose,” he conceded.

“Yes, well, your purpose was against mine.”

“And perhaps I understand you more than you believe.”

That provocative statement caught her attention. “I doubt that. If you did, you would not be taking me to a ship that will deliver me to England.”

“It’s your homeland, Miss Nelson. You will be safe there. We want to see you protected.”

“
Save
me from being
protected
,” she declared. “You are a man. You don’t know what it is like for a woman. My aunts and cousins have all these rules and are always lecturing me. I was born in Calcutta, raised in the Orient. When I return to England, I can’t go anywhere without permission and I must always watch my tongue. I say the wrong things. Even here, amongst the soldiers, I know they believe I’m odd.”

“They find you original,” he corrected. “And you shouldn’t let that bother you. My own mother is eccentric, independent and fiercely proud of it. There are women such as yourself in England. You just haven’t met them yet.”

“I doubt if I’ll
ever
meet one. England can never provide the freedom my father gives me,” she announced with a touch of defiance.

He appeared as if ready to challenge her statement, but then decided against it. Instead, he said, “I like your mare. She’s an Arabian breed.”

Pippa willingly changed the subject with him. “Tatiana is from Russia. A gift from one of my father’s friends.”

“Tatiana? What sort of a name is that for a horse?”

She was caught off guard by his criticism, but then thought she saw laughter in his eyes. He was teasing her . . . she thought. People rarely teased her.

“It’s the name of the fairy princess in
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
,” she said, and immediately regretted her words, realizing she sounded haughty. He was English. He would know the name. However, she had come off sounding superior and stiff.

Usually, at this moment, people would start to withdraw from her. Young men would frown, pout even. Young women would giggle at her. She never knew how to hit the right tone.

“I know who she is,” he said, without taking offense, “but a mare like that should have an English name.”

“Like what?” Pippa asked, still uncertain.

“Buttercup.”

“Like the flower?” Pippa frowned.

“And very English,” he answered.

“Oh, and what English name do you have for your horse?” she questioned, something that was always tight and distrustful inside of her unwinding a bit.

“Valiant. Very English.”

“Very heavy,” she answered.

“So is Tatiana.”

“But poetic,” she demurred.

“Valiant is poetic.”

“And a mouthful.”

“Says the woman who named her horse Tatiana.”

Pippa laughed, realizing the conversation had come full-circle back to her. Captain Duroy was very clever and entertaining—and she must beware. Her father had warned her of just his sort. Keep them at a distance.

He noticed her change of mood. “What is it?”

She looked at him, at his easy good looks and the effortless way he rode. He was a horseman through and through. A dashing man. A dangerous one. A man much like the one who had run off with her mother.

“I don’t like you,” she said, speaking the words aloud to give them force.

He was taken aback. “Have I offended you?”

Pippa felt a bit ill to her stomach. Why had her father left her? Why was she dealing with this alone?

“Miss Nelson, is something the matter?”

She heard the concern in his voice and didn’t want to trust him. She grabbed hold of the first halfway reasonable excuse to push him away. “You are making me do what I do not wish to do. And you took my books.” She could hear herself, knew she sounded inane—and yet she must not let him close.

He didn’t speak right away, and that made her cross. “Have you nothing to say?” She dared him to fight back. Then she could blame him for something.

“I say that Medford knew what he was doing when he chose you to be my punishment.” With those cryptic words, he rose up the line to take his place . . . leaving her alone.

W
ILLIAM HAD A
desire to needle Pippa Nelson, and he didn’t understand why.

Perhaps it was because she gave off the air that she didn’t need a man.

Perhaps it was because she was an attractive woman who didn’t seem to notice him.

Or perhaps it was because she reminded him of his mother, a woman he greatly admired. She truly had an independent spirit.

So he kept his distance.

And it didn’t seem to bother her.

One of his men, Sergeant Larson, found a small inn for them for the night. As William was organizing the sleeping arrangements, Lilly, Miss Nelson’s maid, came to him with a question of when they would be expected to rise in the morning.

“Miss Pippa wishes to know,” Lilly said. She was a middle-aged woman with apple cheeks and a friendly spirit.

“Tell her an hour before dawn,” William answered.

“Very good, Captain.” She started to leave but then stopped. “I saw you talking to her earlier today. You made her laugh.”

“Is that so unusual?” William said.

Lilly took a step toward him, lowering her voice. “Her mother ran away with a Russian officer when Miss Pippa was ten. It’s a tender age for a girl. They all need their mothers. I wasn’t in Sir Hew’s employ then. He thought to keep Pippa for himself. He cares for his daughter, but he can be a selfish man, and he shut out many after his wife left. I think if he had his way, he’d insist that Miss Pippa be at his beck and call for the rest of his life.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“You made her laugh,” Lilly repeated. “I was hired by Miss Pippa’s aunt, Lady Romley, because she fears for her niece’s happiness. I’d begun to believe I’d arrived too late to save Miss Pippa, until I heard her laugh today. Please, don’t be offended when she wards you off. In his anger at his wife’s unfaithfulness, Sir Hew has put many strange notions in his daughter’s head. She feels she must always prove her faithfulness to him.”

“A father should want his daughter to go forward with her life,” William said.

“And I believe Miss Pippa’s is a loving nature. Sir Hew is not a loving man. But I’ve said too much. If I have trespassed on your good nature, forgive me.”

“No, Lilly, I appreciate this information.”

“I thought you would, Captain.”

William set sentries. He would check on them through the night. He turned in. He was usually a good sleeper, but he found that this night, thoughts of a brown-eyed, opinionated redhead kept him awake. So he was a bit groggy the next morning, and yet anxious to see Pippa Nelson.

However, when he strode into the inn’s dining room, Miss Nelson was not there. Instead, a tearful Lilly came running down the hall for him.

“What has she done now?” William asked. “Don’t tell me she refuses to come with us. I will go up and fetch her.”

“It’s worse than that, Captain,” Lilly said. “She’s not in her bed, and her horse is gone. The innkeeper tells me his son is missing his clothes. Miss Pippa has stolen them, and she’s left.”

Chapter Three

Y
ES, IT WAS
dangerous for a woman to be riding alone, but Pippa was determined to return to the British encampment. That was where her father had left her, and that was where he’d expect her to be. Besides, she would not return to London. She wouldn’t. It had become a matter of pride now. Or so she’d thought.

A small part of her realized that she could possibly be running from Captain Duroy and his disturbing presence. He knew how to slip past her guard. He threatened her sense of well-being in a way she didn’t quite understand.

So, it was time for daring action.

And daring women did not sit back and wait for others to make decisions.

She had stolen the innkeeper’s son’s clothes to disguise herself as a boy. Since she was small-busted, she hoped wearing the lad’s loose-fitting shirt would be enough to let her pass as a male. She’d hidden the vibrant color of her hair by wrapping a white scarf around her head. She’d also taken her wide-brimmed hat to hide her freckles from the sun and passersby, but it had flown off her head in the night, and she’d not wanted to waste the time to search for it.

Pippa had a small stash of coins in a leather bag which she wore around her neck. She’d tucked a small dirk inside her riding boots. By her estimation, riding Tatiana at a good clip, she could return to the camp by late midday.

Mayhap her father was already there and wondering what had happened to her?

If he wasn’t, she’d just have to work her way around General Wellington. Perhaps in taking the desperate step of running away, the general would understand that she truly did not want to be packed off to England.

She hoped Captain Duroy would not pay a price for her decision, and it bothered her to think that he might.

The captain would come after her. Of course he would. That was why she had to be certain she outrode him.

What she hadn’t realized was how tired both she and Tatiana were. Her loyal mare tried to keep up the pace, but after traveling the day before neither of them had the energy to push hard.

Soon, they were walking.

The Spanish sun beat down on Pippa’s head. She could feel herself freckling. Right there was reason enough to not go to London. Her cousins called her freckles “spots,” a derogatory term if ever she’d heard one. Pippa liked the sun and hated all the fussing her aunts had made in trying to use creams to make her freckles fade.

She didn’t look at anyone she passed on the road. Nor did she dare stop. She pushed herself, and she pushed Tatiana—until she could push no more. By late morning, the heat and sun were too much for both her and her poor horse. She came to a small village. There was a well in the center of the town. She gave Tatiana water, ignoring the curious looks of the few people who were out on the street.

Pippa knew she was going to have to find food for herself and give Tatiana a rest, and she thought she had time. She’d chosen a different route from the one Captain Duroy had them travel the day before. She hoped that when he came after her, he’d think her silly enough to return by that route and so would miss stopping her before she reached the British camp.

A few inquiries directed her to a small inn on the edge of the village. Old men sat in the shade of a tree in the front yard. They watched her ride up and began speaking in low voices to each other. Pippa listened hard to hear if they recognized she was a woman. They didn’t. She was safe. They only admired her precious horse.

She tied Tatiana to a post and entered the inn, keeping her head down.

If the innkeeper inside, a rotund man with a weathered face, noticed her sex, he didn’t say. Instead, he took her money for hay for Tatiana and sent a lad out to feed the horse. He then went off to prepare Pippa’s request for soup and bread.

The inn appeared clean enough. She wasn’t the only one in the main room. There was a table of young men, workers actually, enjoying their wine. They didn’t seem to pay her any attention.

Just to be safe, she took a seat on the other side of the room from them and kept her scarf on her head. She yawned but didn’t feel a need to sleep. This was her grandest adventure. She was on her own. Completely.

Yes, there was danger, but she was not afraid. As she waited for her food, she thought of all the things her father had warned her against. This would certainly be one of them, but then here she was and she felt quite bold.

The innkeeper thought to bring her some cold chicken and cheese as well as the soup. Pippa fell upon the food. She didn’t think she’d ever been so hungry before. Outside the window, she could see Tatiana munching on her hay with the same energy Pippa had for her meal, and life felt good—until she saw Captain Duroy striding from the village.

He was just walking down the road, the sun shining off the silver buttons of his uniform. He was heading straight for the inn.

Panic erased her appetite.

The captain would know she was here. He’d recognize Tatiana immediately.

Pippa jumped up from her chair and ran out into the hall, almost knocking over the innkeeper. She raced down the hall and around a corner. There was a door. She opened it and discovered a small storage room. It was really little more than a pantry with slatted doors. Here was where the oils and wine, the onions, peppers, and olives were kept. Pippa squeezed herself inside and waited.

She didn’t have a plan other than the hope that Captain Duroy would believe she’d run off and perhaps she could go to Tatiana and escape.

And then she heard booted footsteps on the inn’s wooden floor. She held her breath.

Captain Duroy asked the innkeeper in very poor Spanish where the Englishwoman was.

The innkeeper sounded genuinely confused, not only by Captain Duroy’s Spanish but by his insistence that there was a woman in the inn. Then the captain asked if a young boy had entered the inn. Pippa wrapped her arms around her waist, waiting, praying, and fearing the innkeeper would give an honest answer.

Booted steps started walking in her direction. She closed her eyes, listening and hoping that the captain would walk right down the hall and not see her little hiding spot.

There was a moment when she could not hear his steps.

She opened her eyes—and then she saw his shadow outside the cupboard door.

He opened the door. “Hello, Miss Nelson.”

Pippa grabbed ahold of the shelving around her and braced her legs. “I’m not returning with you. I won’t go.”

“Oh, you will come with me,” he said, his voice frighteningly calm. “You don’t have a choice. Hmmmm, this is odd,” he said as if struck by some thought of fancy. “I believe we had this same conversation yesterday, did we not?”

“Yes, when you threatened violence against me.”

He laughed. “And obviously you didn’t believe I was a man of my word.”

Pippa gripped the shelves harder. “I shall create a terrible scene.”

“I’m certain of it.” He took a step into the storage room, reaching for her waist.

Pippa opened her mouth, ready to scream for help—when the sound of male French voices interrupted them.

Instantly the two of them were quiet.

The newcomers were shouting for the innkeeper in Spanish.

Captain Duroy moved into the storage room with her, closing the door behind them. The space was very tight. They were thigh-to-thigh, chest-to-chest.

“Who do you think it is?” she whispered.

He placed an arm across her as if to protect her. “Soldiers.” He listened a moment.

She strained to hear all she could, as well.

There were more booted steps. This wasn’t a small party of men. It sounded as if the inn was being invaded.

Pippa rose on her toes so she could speak in his ear. “I didn’t believe the French were this far south of our troops.”

“They aren’t supposed to be,” he answered. “How is your French?”

“As excellent as my Spanish. How is yours?”

“As terrible as my Greek, which is better than my Spanish,” he said. Only he would tease in this moment.

The men in the main room were officers. They complained of the march south, of the laziness of their men, and of how hungry they were. The order to the innkeeper was to keep the wine coming. They were thirsty men who had been long on the road.

Someone mentioned admiring the horse outside, and he was ordered to take it.

They couldn’t have Tatiana
. Pippa surged toward the door. Captain Duroy’s arms stopped her. He shook his head, warning her to be wise.

She leaned in against his chest, needing someone else’s strength right now. “What of your horse?”

“I don’t know.” He didn’t remove the arm he’d placed around her. “I left him in the village with some boys. I can only hope they’ve hidden him.”

Suddenly, Pippa’s grand adventure became frighteningly real.

The wool of his uniform jacket was rough against her cheek as she buried her face against it. Tatiana was all she had of what she valued. They’d already taken away her books.

She wanted to push Captain Duroy away, and yet she discovered she desperately needed him for support. He
did
understand.

The French were relaxing. Several of the men complained of their mission. They sounded confident that the English were not a threat and didn’t understand why they had to come this far south to meet troops that would not be needed.

Pippa whispered, “Do you understand some of what they are saying?”

Captain Duroy nodded grimly.

At that moment, the door to the storage room opened.

The captain clamped a hand over Pippa’s mouth as she started to gasp in surprise.

It was good that he had. The innkeeper had been the one to open the door. He raised a finger to his lips. Captain Duroy nodded.

The innkeeper reached in past them for some onions and a curing ham. He shut the door.

Pippa almost collapsed with relief, but it was short-lived. Suddenly, she began shaking. A hundred fears assailed her at once. They would be discovered. They could not stay here forever hiding. Her father would be furious if she was captured. She could not let them know who she was, but if she didn’t what would become of her? Her father had told her horrible stories of what the soldiers did to women—

“Don’t give in to your fear,” Captain Duroy ordered.

“How can I not?” she answered.

“Think of something else.”

“Like what?” Her mind was filled with nothing but the stories she’d been told. They would kill Captain Duroy. They would behead him right before her. They would behead her.

“What do you most enjoy?” he said. “Think on it. What is your favorite time of year, and what would you be doing?”

She shook her head.

“What is your favorite novel?” he persisted. “What book would you choose out of all of them?”

Pippa attempted to focus on her books.
Pamela
,
Robinson Crusoe
,
The Lady of the Lake
,
Castle Rackrent. . .

“Have you been to any plays? What of Shakespeare?” he continued, and then he made an exasperated sound, because speaking of Shakespeare reminded her of her beloved horse and he was aware of it.

Who knew what the French would do to her? The tears she’d been holding back escaped and ran down her cheeks.

She felt such a fool—

Her thoughts were cut short when Captain Duroy turned her face up to his, and brought his lips down over hers.