Fortune's Bride (13 page)

Esmeralda was not so certain of that, but she raised no objections
and, indeed, hoped it was true. Now that the basic tale was settled, she began
to ask Robert questions about the men she would meet, which he answered with as
much interest as she had in listening, realizing that he was clarifying to
himself facets of his fellow officers’ characteristics that were useful to
understand.

He had just said, “Burghersh is the best of fellows, but he
will not make a soldier,” when a sound of shouting came from behind them. An
expression of irritation crossed Robert’s face as he looked around. He hated to
have a conversation with Merry interrupted, but the noise did not diminish. He
turned his horse and, looking back just as he started off, laughed and warned
her, “And they are all top-of-the-trees, so, for God’s sake, take off that hat
before we see them.”

Esmeralda only waved gaily. She had never intended to allow
the elegant gentlemen of Sir Arthur’s staff to see her hat before they knew her
well enough to appreciate the joke rather than to think she was unaware of good
style. But actually, it might not have mattered if Esmeralda had worn it. It
was apparent that the gentlemen who had come to meet them were so surprised by
her quite ordinary appearance, her cultured voice, accent, and manners—all
undeniably British—that they probably would not have noticed. Quite clearly
Somerset had spread the word that Robert had married, with startling
suddenness, a completely destitute female about whom he had told their
commander some fantastic story. Considering Robert’s own breathtaking
appearance and his previous resistance to feminine charms, all had expected to
see a ravishing beauty, perhaps no better than she should be, who had sprung a
trap that proved irresistible.

The shock, which left the young men incapable of doing anything
beyond acknowledging Robert’s introductions, placed all the advantage in
Esmeralda’s hands. Thus, after the introductions, general greetings and remarks
had been exchanged, the party had sorted itself out somewhat, and Esmeralda
found herself beside Lord Burghersh. She seized her opportunity at once by
asking eagerly how the landing was progressing.

“I know that it cannot be easy on this dreadful coast,” she
said, making her eyes large. “I will never forget my terror when I saw the
cliffs and that huge surf.”

“You were shipwrecked?”

Lord Burghersh’s question did not imply disbelief. He had
heard of the shipwreck from Lord Fitzroy, and he now recognized Esmeralda as a
British gentlewoman. However, neither did his question express the shock and
sympathy that would ordinarily be extended to one who had passed through so
harrowing an experience. Although Lord Burghersh was quite young, as the scion
of a politically active, noble family—he was, in fact, cousin to General Henry
Fane—he had grown wary of manipulators.

“Yes,” Esmeralda said. “It was horrible. The whole voyage
was dreadful, storms alternating with awful calms, and then there was an
unbelievable storm, and the
Ranee
went down north of Oporto. Papa and I
were on our way home from India. He had been ill, and the climate became too
much for him.”

“India!” Burghersh exclaimed, “Moreton was in India for
years. D’you mean to say you
knew
him?”

“Yes, of course,” Esmeralda said with a faint smile. “I
admit my situation here in Portugal was appalling, but even so, I do not think
I could have brought myself to marry a person I did not know.” Her lips
twitched and she added mischievously, “Not even a person who looks like Robert.
But he was in Bombay several times. We met at Governor Duncan’s house at a ball
and became moderately well acquainted.”

“And your father…” His voice rose in a tentative question.

Esmeralda lowered her eyes and turned her head to look
fixedly between Boa Viagem’s ears. “He only survived the shipwreck by a few
days,” she said very softly. “He is buried in the village. As soon as it is
possible for me to do so, I will have his grave properly marked. But money is
such a problem, for no one would give Robert credit or—”

“Yes, we are having the same problem here,” the young man
said.

Then to change the subject, he added quickly, “And even if
we had money, I am afraid that victualing will be a problem.”

Turning her head toward him immediately and raising her eyes
again, Esmeralda said even more softly, “Thank you. It is a difficult subject
for me to speak about.” Before he could reply she went on with deliberate
briskness, “I agree that victualing may be a problem. It is very dry at this
time of year so that I believe it to be impossible, in this area at least, for
a second crop to be sown, even though the weather may remain warm long enough
to ripen it. And my boy, Carlos, told me that the French had destroyed a good
part of the crops in the vicinity of Oporto by using the standing grain for
feed. I suppose we must assume that they would have done the same wherever they
were camped en masse. What is more, I know from personal experience that the
foraging spread at least fifteen or twenty miles out from the central
concentration of troops. In that area, the people, who are normally very
hospitable, have learned instead to be very clever in hiding anything they
have.”

Lord Burghersh made some noncommittal comment, but it could
not conceal his surprise at Esmeralda’s interest in and familiarity with the
subject. He had expected her to say “Too bad” or something similar, and then
choose another topic for conversation.

She smiled and said tentatively, “I hope you do not think
the subject unfeminine. Truly, my sympathy has been aroused for the people, and
I find myself most eager to hear any detail that, even at some space of time,
promises their relief.”

Whatever Burghersh thought, he could not fail to respond
with approval to a question phrased in those terms. And actually, he did not
think the subject unfeminine. Many women exhibited a fine military fervor. All
that had surprised him was Esmeralda’s grasp of the practical aspects involved,
and they spent the remainder of the ride in enthusiastic discussion. In fact,
they were so happily engaged that Robert had to speak several times before he
could get their attention. There was nothing at all in either Esmeralda’s
manner or Burghersh’s that could have roused any suspicion, even in the most
insanely jealous husband. Robert nonetheless felt a faint twinge of irritation,
and he had to remind himself that he did not own Esmeralda. She had a perfect
right to discuss anything she wished with anyone. But he found that reminder
only exacerbated his feelings so that he spoke quite sharply.

This drew a quiet apology from Esmeralda, and no outward
reaction from Burghersh at all, although inwardly he was somewhat surprised. He
had already realized that Esmeralda was thoroughly in love with her husband.
There was a slight change in her voice, a glow in her eyes that utterly
betrayed her every time his name came into the conversation.

Until Burghersh had heard the irritation in Robert’s voice,
however, he had been quite certain that the feeling could not be mutual. He and
Robert had often talked about Robert’s tour of duty in India, and Robert had
given no indication whatsoever of any interest in that country or any regret in
leaving it, aside from what he had learned and hoped still to learn in a
military sense.

“I must see about quarters for you, Merry, and then for the
men,” Robert pointed out. “This is an army camp, not a town. And I must hand
over the animals officially, although I’ll probably have to make sure they all
get into camp myself.” He turned to look at Lord Burghersh. “Who’s in charge of
quartering and commissariat?”

“Not I,” Burghersh exclaimed thankfully. “Ask Fitz. He’s
bound to know. No, never mind. You go back to your cattle herding, and I’ll see
about getting Mrs. Moreton settled and quarters assigned for your muleteers.”

For one moment it almost seemed to Esmeralda that Robert
would object and insist on seeing to her quartering himself, and her heart
leapt. However, he said nothing to Lord Burghersh, merely turned back to look
up at her, since she was still mounted, and asked, “Will that be all right,
Merry?”

She put out her hands to him to be helped down from Boa
Viagem and smiled. “You know that whatever suits you best will be perfectly
satisfactory to me,” she said.

“Well, to speak the truth,” Robert remarked with raised
brows, “I’d rather go with you and have a pleasant cup of tea, which is what I
suspect this lazy lout is planning, but Sir Arthur likes his orders carried to
completion. Don’t let this crew finish up all the supplies. They will tell you
the most pitiful tales of deprivation, but remember who comes first.”

It was not so easy to accommodate a gentlewoman in the
overcrowded conditions of a small village filled to bursting, and Esmeralda was
very glad Robert had been spared the trouble. At first, Lord Burghersh had
suggested that she move into the building Sir Arthur was using as his
headquarters, since it was the best and largest. Esmeralda was very reluctant
to stay there, as she intended to avoid notice by Sir Arthur insofar as it was
possible. If he did not recall that she was with the army, he was much less
likely to consider the situation to be growing dangerous and order her sent to
England.

She could not say this, of course, so she was greatly
relieved when Lord Burghersh himself realized that the house was not really
large enough to afford privacy and the constant coming and going of officers at
all hours would make it inconvenient for a lady. Eventually, a very small house
on the grounds, in which several of the ADCs had been staying, was cleared for
her. Gallantly, the young gentlemen made no complaint, but Esmeralda was
worried.

“Will my accompanying the troops always make this much
trouble?” she asked.

There was a brief silence that marked Lord Burghersh’s
shock, although his voice was expressionless when he said, “You intend to march
on into Portugal with us? Would it not be safer and more comfortable for you to
go back to England?”

“Safer, perhaps,” Esmeralda was forced to admit, “but not
more comfortable. You see, there is no question of ‘back to England’ for me. I
was born in India and do not believe I know a single person living in England.
I have never met Robert’s family, and I have none of my own. Lord Burghersh, I
assure you I am not a stranger to physical inconvenience, nor do I fear it, but
to be thrust upon the Earl and Countess of Moreton without Robert’s support
quite sinks my spirits.”

“But Mrs. Moreton,” Burghersh protested, “there may be far
more than inconvenience involved. There may soon be bullets and cannonballs
flying about.”

“Surely not into the base camp or headquarters,” Esmeralda
said quietly, completely unmoved.

“I hope not,” Burghersh replied, a trace of sharpness in his
voice indicating the impatience he felt with the stubbornness and ignorance of
women. “However, one can never be sure of the results of a battle. Camps and
even towns at a considerable distance have been overrun.”

Esmeralda raised eyes full of tears to him. “I am not
ignorant of the risks,” she whispered. “Please believe that there is a most
compelling reason for my desire to remain with the army. And please do not tell
Robert how unwise you think it to allow me to come. He is already too aware of
the dangers to which I may be exposed and also of the fact that Sir Arthur does
not approve, in general, of wives accompanying their husbands into a war zone.
I have promised that…that if I am too great an inconvenience on the march, I
will go without further protest, but I am very eager to remain as long as
possible.”

The tears that hung in Esmeralda’s lashes and the intensity
of her voice proclaimed the depth and violence of her emotion, and Burghersh
was impressed by the control that permitted her to speak coherently and
quietly. He could not imagine what had driven her to make the decision to stay,
but he no longer thought it a trivial exercise of female impulsiveness.

“I assure you I will not interfere, Mrs. Moreton,” he said,
“but I must warn you that when your husband tells Sir Arthur of this, I doubt
that Sir Arthur will permit it.”

“But I am sure Robert has already told him,” Esmeralda
interrupted. “He said he must tell Sir Arthur
everything
, and Sir Arthur
agreed that there was nothing else Robert could do. Why, he even was so kind as
to instruct Lord Fitzroy to make us a present of one hundred
cruzados
.”

Every word Esmeralda had said was literally true. However,
the implications of the whole, when put together, were patently false. This did
not trouble Esmeralda a whit. She took in the expression on Burghersh’s face—he
was looking down at her intently with his mouth slightly ajar—with considerable
satisfaction. She was certain that he now believed what she wished, that Sir
Arthur had given specific permission for her to go with the army for some
secret purpose. Thus, Burghersh would not utter to Robert any criticism of her
accompanying the troops.

Having seen her ruse work, Esmeralda promptly returned to
the problem that had started this discussion. “But all this bother,” she said.
“Is there no way in which I or my servant can make arrangements for my lodging
without troubling Robert or causing so much disruption?”

“Oh, certainly,” Burghersh replied. “Now that you are on the
rolls and the staff knows you will be with us, there will be provision made
without any fuss. I will make sure that the quartering officer sends an orderly
to show you to your lodging each day we move. And I must say, I am glad to hear
that you are already furnished with a servant. Can I send someone to find him?”

“I doubt it will be necessary,” Esmeralda said. “If I know
Carlos, he and Luisa are right outside the door.”

“Ah,” Burghersh remarked with relief, “you have a woman with
you also.”

Esmeralda burst out laughing. “I suppose you could say so,
but I fear Luisa would be a most unsatisfactory lady’s maid, for she has four
legs and very bad manners.” Then, seeing that Lord Burghersh looked troubled,
she said more soberly, “I imagine I shall be able to employ one of the
soldiers’ wives eventually, but I would like to leave that until I can discuss
it with Robert. I am very hardy and shall manage very well with only Carlos for
tonight.”

Satisfied with that assurance, Lord Burghersh prepared to
make his departure. Esmeralda, however, had not forgotten Robert’s parting joke
about not allowing his friends to eat up all the supplies. In fact, the
previous evening in Coimbra, he had urged her to purchase substantial quantities
of any delicacies she believed could survive the heat and transportation on
Luisa’s back without spoiling. Having also remembered what Robert said about
the unfortunate state of Sir Arthur’s table, Esmeralda was sure that he
intended these supplies all along as a treat for his friends.

Thus, she forestalled Lord Burghersh’s intended departure by
saying, “Truthfully, I am rather concerned for Captain Williams and Captain
Campbell and the others who were evicted to make room for me. Do you think they
would be willing to come to a small supper at about nine o’clock so I can tell
them how sorry I am? Nine o’clock should be time enough for Robert to wash and
have a short rest.”

Lord Burghersh had initially looked uneasy, but as soon as
Esmeralda mentioned that Robert would be present, he smiled broadly. “I shall
pass the word,” Burghersh promised, nodding encouragingly.

Esmeralda hoped his expression meant that he would also pass
along her explanation for remaining with them. If her expectations were correct,
neither she nor Robert would be pestered with repeated statements of surprise
or astonished questions. A seemingly indifferent acceptance of her presence by
his companions would, she was sure, go a long way toward calming Robert’s
doubts.

Fortunately, Esmeralda’s hope seemed to have been fulfilled.
The supper that evening was a great success, and no one gave even the smallest
indication of expecting that she would soon be leaving them. At first Robert
was teased unmercifully about being the only man in the world who could be
buried in manure and come out of the heap with a wedding bouquet. Soon,
however, the talk turned to more serious matters. Captain Campbell remarked
that he believed the disembarkation would be finished the next day.

“How many will we have ashore?” Robert asked.

“About eighty-seven hundred,” Campbell replied, “but it’s
been a devilish landing. Half the supplies were overturned and soaked in
seawater, and the horses got loose and went galloping up and down the beach. It
took hours to catch them.”

“Good God,” Robert exclaimed. “Did we lose any guns?”

“No, but we lost about fifty men, two of them MPs. That will
make a stink in England.”

“And that isn’t the worst of it,” Lord Fitzroy said angrily.
“Not that it has anything to do with the landing, but I don’t suppose you’ve
heard the Beau’s been superseded.”

“Oh, God damn it,” Robert groaned. “That’s just what I was
afraid of right from the beginning when I heard we were going to Spain. Damn
the Horse Guards! Damn them! For God’s sake, Campbell, couldn’t you manage to
get whomever they sent out drowned instead of a lot of useful soldiers?” Then
his face lightened for a moment. “Unless it is Sir John?” he asked hopefully.

“No such luck,” Somerset replied bitterly. “Don’t blame
Campbell. Our new commanders haven’t arrived yet. Sir Harry Burrard is coming
out from England, and Sir Hew Dalrymple’s coming up from Gibraltar.”

Robert closed his eyes for a minute as if he were in pain.
“Do any of you realize that the last action Burrard has seen was in America
back in seventy-nine?”

“No,” Captain Williams put in. “He was at Copenhagen.”

“So was I,” Robert snapped, “but he might just as well not
have been. I was talking about action. And Dalrymple was with the Duke of York
in Flanders.
That
was a brilliantly run campaign.”

A universal groan attested to the fact that most of the ADCs
had heard about the disaster in Flanders even though it had taken place
thirteen years earlier. It was a classic on how not to run a military
operation, the high-level officers and staff making merry with wine and women
in the cities while the men froze and starved in inadequate camps in exposed
positions until they were too weak and dispirited to fight. There was a
discouraged silence.

“Please pardon my ignorance,” Esmeralda said. “I have no
knowledge at all of what is standard military practice. Does that mean we are
to remain here until the new commanders arrive?”

Her question broke the gloom. Everyone looked more alert,
and all heads turned to Lord Fitzroy Somerset. He might have read the orders or
have information from Sir Arthur.

Somerset hesitated then shook his head. “There is no
standard practice, Mrs. Moreton, but I do not believe in this case that we will
remain here. It is not a good position.”

A babble of talk broke out that was overridden by Robert’s
voice saying, “If there aren’t specific orders, the Beau will move. I know him.
If he can get in a few licks before those deadweights arrive, he will.”

“But what the hell can we do with nine thousand men?” Lord
Burghersh asked.

The more experienced officers explained at length what could
be done with so small a force, but the question of whether Sir Arthur would
have considered their optimistic plans any better than pipe dreams never arose.
On August 5, before the disembarkation was completed, additional transports
were sighted. These carried nearly five thousand more men under the command of
General Sir Brent Spencer. Their arrival was most timely, for the landing
operations merely continued in full swing, more efficiently now and with less
loss of life and supplies.

The arrival of Spencer’s division was also a blessing to
Esmeralda personally. Although it was unavoidable that she be introduced to Sir
Arthur, she had fortunately been presented at tea time just before General
Spencer’s arrival was announced. Having been briefed on General Wellesley’s
character by Robert, Esmeralda was at first surprised by his appearance. The
admiration, bordering on awe with which Robert spoke of him had made her
imagine him a giant. On the contrary, Sir Arthur was shorter than her husband,
of no more than medium height, and spare rather than heavy. However, the fit of
his clothing showed him to have a wiry muscularity. Like the young men of his
staff—who, Esmeralda now realized, had copied his style—his lightly graying
brown hair was cut short.

He was, really, Esmeralda thought, a most ordinary-looking
man, except for the high-bridged, aquiline nose that dominated his rather long,
narrow-jawed face. And then her eyes met his, and all at once he was a giant.
The color, like Robert’s, was bright blue, but Robert’s eyes, whether smiling
or troubled, looked at you, not through you. Sir Arthur’s had such intensity
that one felt transfixed.

Fortunately, before Esmeralda could disgrace herself by stuttering
or dropping a curtsy like a gauche schoolgirl, Sir Arthur’s loud, whooping
laugh broke the tension, and he came forward with a flattering comment about
Robert’s luck in picking up so handsome and charming a parcel of flotsam on the
beach. Reminded by this gallant opening that Robert had told her Sir Arthur
greatly enjoyed a gentle flirtation and seeing that, however piercing his look
might be, there was genuine kindliness in it now, Esmeralda was able to respond
naturally to this opening sally and the later conversation.

The half hour Sir Arthur had found in which to examine
Robert’s bride and assure himself that the young man had not fallen victim to
some designing harpy passed most pleasantly. Although actually his doubts had
been laid to rest the moment he saw Esmeralda, Sir Arthur was a very thorough
man. He assured himself from reminiscences of India that she had, indeed, been
a resident for many years, and her enthusiastic response to his offer to write
to several Talbot and Connor families he knew in Ireland, among whom there was
a strong possibility of discovering her relatives, was a good indication that
her story was true.

Since these matters were Sir Arthur’s first concern and the
time he had to bestow on Esmeralda was limited, he never got around to any
discussion of her departure. Ordinarily, this subject would have occurred to
him at the time the ships were making ready to draw off, but on August 6 he was
deep in consultation with General Spencer and on the seventh, the day the
disembarkation was completed, he received a message from the Portuguese General
Freire, requesting a meeting at a nearby town. Such a minor problem as
Esmeralda faded out of Sir Arthur’s mind.