Fortune's Bride (24 page)

The gentle assurance almost brought tears to Robert’s eyes
again, and he felt silly for being so emotional. Merry was just being herself.
What the devil had ever possessed him to mention the possibility of an
annulment back in Oporto? Why hadn’t he realized then how lovely she was and
how perfect? And then his conscience lashed him. Did he have the right to ask
Merry to follow the drum? But she seemed to love it. Or was that only another
instance of her not making a fuss?

Robert’s head whirled, and he knew he was too dizzy and too
sick to think straight. And he had forgotten all about his convivial companions
again. If they had been as drunk as he was, they would never have made it back
to Cazal da Sprega. Besides, he seemed to remember someone saying they intended
to return to the wine shop and finish the wine they had ordered. Oh God, they
would be in prime and plummy order this morning!

He looked with loathing at the liquid in the mug, but
decided that despite the smell it could not make him feel worse, even if it
were poison. Better if it was. If it killed him, at least his troubles would be
over. Taking a deep breath, he gulped at it.

Raw fire exploded in his mouth and throat as it went down,
and the breath he had taken whooshed out of him in an anguished moan. He
tensed, expecting a volcanic eruption from his stomach, but he really felt no
urge to bring up the hot lava he had swallowed. There were certainly
fireworks—Robert let out another huge breath almost expecting to see flames
spew from his mouth—but the fireworks seemed to be beneficent. Sighing like a
martyr, he closed his eyes and downed the rest of the fiery liquid.

Meanwhile, with shaking hands Esmeralda gathered up fresh
clothing for Robert, but she had difficulty fixing her mind to the task and
ended up with four stockings, two pairs of smalls, two coats, and no shirt or
breeches. She had to put everything down and begin again. It was ridiculous,
she thought, that Robert’s bare body should have so violent an effect on her.
She had seen him nearly naked before. It was true that the sight had always
affected her, but the experience of making love had heightened her reaction to
him almost unbearably. She had had a nearly irresistible impulse to touch him,
to run her lips and tongue over him as he had run his over her And he had
caught her looking at him twice! He would think her more abandoned than any
light-skirt.

And what had that apology meant? Was he sorry
only
about hurting her? If that were so, Esmeralda thought, she would have achieved
a state close to heaven. She knew, however, that she had cut him off before he
finished what he intended to say. Perhaps that had been wrong. Perhaps he would
have said what she wanted to hear, but perhaps he would have said just the
opposite. She had not dared take the chance.

Poor Robert, he had looked so ghastly. It was obvious he
could not think straight about anything. Later in the day he would feel better.
He would have a chance to consider the ramifications of what he had done and
also have a chance to adjust to the situation. After that, she would no longer
be able to avoid talking to him about the future. That thought was so sobering
that Esmeralda gathered up a full complement of clothing without any more
romantic tremors.

When she reentered the room Robert was still sitting on the
bed, but she saw the mug was empty and that his complexion had lost its earlier
green tinge. True, his eyes were tearing and he was breathing out as if he had
eaten something too hot for comfort, but all in all he looked better. He held
her gaze steadily only once. As soon as she blushed, hating herself for her
inability to keep her color steady, he dropped his eyes.

“I will come back as soon as I can,” he said. “I don’t think
there will be any more action for a day or two, and I will ask to be excused
from mess tonight.”

“It will be pleasant to have dinner together,” Esmeralda
ventured.

“Merry—” he began, flashing a glance at her and then biting
his lip. “No,” he went on, “you are quite right. We don’t have time to talk.
Will you send Molly for Carlos, please? I left my horse at the wine shop last
night, and I haven’t the faintest idea of how to get back there.”

“I can send him to fetch the horse so you can rest a few
minutes longer,” she suggested.

Robert hesitated, then said no. He didn’t dare shake his
head yet, although he did feel less as if it would fly off if he did. “The walk
will do me good, I think. I just hope someone had sense enough to unsaddle
Apollo and give him something to eat and drink.” He glanced up again
fleetingly, flushed, and reached for the pile of clothing Esmeralda was still
holding.

Silently she gave it to him and fled, just barely biting
back an offer to help him dress. Had the offer come to her mind out of
kindness, she could have said the words. Unfortunately, Esmeralda knew her
motives were not in the least of such purity as kindness. Her desire to help
Robert dress had been born solely out of a most immodest lust, and she probably
would have been more hindrance than help in getting his clothing on.

It was dreadful. Esmeralda was well aware that she should be
ashamed of such raw sensuality, but she was not. She had not run away to put
temptation behind her but to prevent Robert from finding out what a coarse
wretch she was. The fear drove her not only down the stairs but out of the
house. Instead of sending Molly to wake Carlos, she went herself to the stable
and shook the boy, telling him to go up to the bedchamber to help Captain
Moreton dress if he needed help.

Then sternly admonishing herself, Esmeralda went to the
kitchen to tell Molly it was possible Robert would be back for dinner. They
were talking about what to buy that could be cooked and then kept for a day or
two without spoiling if he could not get leave after all, when his booted feet
came down the stairs. Esmeralda dropped the spoon with which she had been
fiddling and bent down to pick it up so that Molly could not see her face and
so her flush would seem to have a natural cause. It was dreadful to blush every
time she saw Robert or even expected to see him. Esmeralda wished miserably
that she could stop.

However, Robert did not come in. Although he felt a flicker
of disappointment and worry when Esmeralda did not appear even briefly to say
goodbye, he buried the emotions quickly under a determined effort to remember
enough about the wine shop to permit Carlos to find it. Robert knew his
physical condition was affecting both his emotions and his ability to reason,
and he was resolved not to think about Merry until he felt human again.

To his surprise, as soon as Carlos led him to the main
street of the town, he recognized the wine shop. He had the devil of a time
routing out his companions and bitterly regretted that he had not asked Molly
to make a gallon of her volcanic restorative. It was not that he felt well, his
head still pounded and occasionally his stomach made threatening noises, but he
was at least ambulatory and did not have to lean off his horse every few
minutes to vomit. Worse yet, the party that had remained in Óbidos was not in
much better condition.

Naturally, they were all late reporting to duty. Sir Arthur
glared and spoke very coldly, but Robert, who was the only one in any state to
notice, detected a definite twinkle in his eyes. Although he no longer indulged
in such behavior, Robert was well aware that Sir Arthur had been there before
them. There were tales of bacchanals during the early years of Wellesley’s
Indian service that made his ADCs’ celebration sound like a nursery tea.

Sir Arthur might not have been quite as understanding if he
had not had some good news just before his young gentlemen arrived. He had
learned that General Acland’s brigade was offshore and General Anstruther’s was
close behind, which meant four thousand men would be added to his force. This
was of considerable importance, since he had reason to believe that the
original estimates of the men available to Junot were too low. Better yet, both
brigades could be put ashore at Porto Novo at the mouth of the little river
Maceira only about ten miles south of where they were. To protect the landing,
the army would take up a position on the heights east of the mouth of the river
with headquarters in the largest village in the area, Vimeiro. With more than
eighteen thousand troops, five thousand of which had proved themselves in
action and all of whom were in high spirits, Sir Arthur felt his situation to
be good.

Some of the army was already in motion toward Vimeiro, but
there was work enough for the ADCs in transmitting Sir Arthur’s commands to the
remainder, making arrangements for the worst wounded who could not be moved and
for those who could be shipped home in the emptied transports, plus seeing that
the inexperienced commissary agents would have food and other necessities
available, setting up quarters for staff and line officers who would need to be
close to Sir Arthur—endless details. As the least disabled, Robert was busiest,
but he found that he had lost his ability to concentrate his mind on military
business to the exclusion of everything else.

The first thing he did as soon as he understood the
situation was to ask Sir Arthur’s permission to absent himself from the mess
dinner that evening. The second was to find M’Guire, arrange the loan of a
troop horse for him, and send him back to Caldas to see that Merry and the
others followed the army to Vimeiro. The third was to make sure Fitzroy
Somerset knew that Merry was on her way so that there would be quarters waiting
for them. Then and only then did he set about the errand upon which Sir Arthur
had sent him. True, there was no great urgency about the errand, but never
before in his military life had Robert set a personal consideration before even
the smallest duty. Now Robert understood very clearly why, aside from the
hardships they must undergo, Sir Arthur was so antagonistic to the idea of
wives accompanying their husbands into the field. And he also understood why
some officers would ignore their commanders’ displeasure. Despite pricks from
his conscience, which he soothed by reminding himself that he had several times
urged Merry to go to England and it was she who had begged to remain in
Portugal, he had not the slightest intention of parting with his wife unless
danger threatened.

M’Guire arrived at Esmeralda’s lodging midmorning. Although
Robert had described the place as best he could, it had taken M’Guire some time
to find it, since he spoke no Portuguese. By then Esmeralda had finished the
shopping and Molly had finished cleaning Robert’s clothes. Both Molly and
Esmeralda asked eager questions concerning why they were going and where, but
aside from the name of the place, M’Guire knew nothing. The captain, he said,
had been in a tearing hurry and sharper tempered than usual. He had said no
more than that they must catch up with the army and get to a village called Vimeiro.

Esmeralda’s heart sank right down into her slippers, which
she ran to change to riding boots, but really she was too busy to spend much
time worrying. She had to pay for the lodging, write and send off a note to Dom
Aleixo with thanks and farewells, help Molly pack, make sure M’Guire and Carlos
did not load Luisa in such a way that fragile or perishable objects were under
heavy ones, and see to it that nothing was left behind.

It was not until they had passed Óbidos that she remembered
the attack of the previous day. As it came into her mind, she also remembered
that she had not yet confessed her spying to Robert, and she hesitated about
confiding in M’Guire. Second thoughts convinced her that she must tell Robert
for safety’s sake. Then she discovered that, despite Carlos’s limited English,
he had already managed to communicate both to Molly and M’Guire the most
exciting and important event that had taken place—at least, as far as he was
concerned—since Robert had agreed he could accompany the British. M’Guire
smiled shyly at Esmeralda and assured her that there was nothing to fear now.
Troops had been out to sweep the area and to spread the word of the English
victory. Any Frenchmen left behind had been happy to come out of hiding and go
along with the English because they knew they would certainly be tortured and
killed if they were found by the Portuguese.

Whether or not M’Guire was right, no one interfered with
their small party. They arrived quite safely in Vimeiro about five o’clock.
They had traveled unusually quickly because Molly and M’Guire had taken turns
riding the troop horse, with Carlos intermittently in front of them on the
saddle bow. Thus, no one had to walk the whole twenty or so miles, and one rest
period to allow the mule and horses to drink and Esmeralda to stretch her legs
was sufficient.

Although the whole area was a swarming mass of men and
animals by the time Esmeralda and her party arrived, there was less actual
confusion than there had been at Figueira. The largest house in the place had
already been commandeered for Sir Arthur. Orderlies and ADCs came and went.
Lord Fitzroy’s efficiency and attention to detail were already becoming a
byword, and because he had been on duty the preceding night, he was not half
dead like those who had accompanied Robert.

M’Guire got the direction of Captain Moreton’s quarters,
which were back-to-back with Sir Arthur’s, and in half an hour Molly and
Esmeralda were hard at work. Molly started dinner while Esmeralda went up to
look over their quarters, see whether they needed to be cleaned, and unpack
necessary items. To her relief, the large room seemed to be in perfect order,
and with great joy she saw there was a double bed. Holding her breath, she
pulled back the covers to inspect the sheets. They were not fresh, but that did
not matter. If there were no fresh sheets in the house, Esmeralda now had her
own. What was important was that they were not all spotted with blood, which
meant that the bed was probably not infested with fleas or bedbugs.

To her greater joy, she discovered that the one room was all
they had been allotted. Because Sir Arthur felt it was possible that the French
would attempt to interfere with the landing and in any case that there might be
renewed action at any time, he wanted his commanding line officers close by for
planning. Their rank entitled them to spacious quarters, and room had to be
available for their staffs also, thus, Sir Arthur’s ADCs were crammed in as
tightly as possible.

Esmeralda could not have been better pleased. Her one doubt
was what to do about Robert’s cot. Not to set it up, she was afraid, would be
too blatant an invitation; on the other hand, setting it up might be taken as a
signal that she was unwilling to share her bed with him. Then she thought that it
would sound reasonable if she said she considered it more important that
M’Guire get Boa Viagem and Luisa fed, watered, and rubbed down than to be
setting up a cot, which could be done later. And Molly had not really seen her
husband for several days. Surely it would be a kindness to dismiss her to
attend to him as soon as she had dinner at a stage where Esmeralda could watch
over it.

She sent M’Guire off with the animals at once and told him
that he need not come back unless she sent a message with Carlos. Nor did it
take long to get rid of Molly. Then she realized that, if she wanted privacy,
they would have to eat in the bedchamber. What would Robert think of that?
Would he accept the excuse that it was too hot in the kitchen? Would he notice
at once that the extra cot was not set up? Should she change from her riding
dress? Esmeralda hesitated, suddenly regretting that she had sent Molly away.
If only she had not, she could have arranged to be half-undressed when Robert
came up.

The thought was so pleasant and had so insidiously slipped
into her mind that Esmeralda was well on her way to devising another method of
achieving the same purpose before she realized how shocking it was. And just as
she became aware of how appallingly immoral her true nature was, Robert
appeared in the doorway. It was as if her guilty conscience had taken flesh to
reprimand her. Esmeralda gasped and stepped back.

“For God’s sake, Merry,” Robert said, “don’t be afraid of
me.”

“Oh, no,” she said breathlessly, “I’m not. Really, I’m not.
I was only startled. I was thinking about something.”

Those words were unwise because, of course, they brought
what
she had been thinking about clearly to mind and she blushed hotly. Robert was
distressed. For the first time a horrible notion leapt into his head. Had he
forced
Merry? He remembered now that she had cried for help several times. Had she
been screaming? It had sounded soft to him, ecstatic, but he had been so drunk!
He stood staring at her, appalled.

Frightened by his expression, Merry took a step forward.
“What is it?” she cried. “Robert, what’s wrong?”

“D-did I…? Merry…did I
force
you?”

Of all the questions he could have asked, that was the most
unwelcome, the most embarrassing, but Esmeralda knew she must answer. Yet if
she said no, she was a whore, and if she said yes, Robert would never come near
her again. Clearly stated in her mind, Esmeralda knew at once which was the
more dreadful to her and cast her reputation to the wind without a second
thought.

“No,” she said firmly, and then, trying to salvage
something, she added, “you are my husband, Robert. You have been so kind, have
done so much for me. How could I refuse?”

“That’s…” He tried to smile. “Well, I certainly am your
husband now. Annulment’s out. Right?” The last words were uncertain.

For a bare instant Esmeralda hesitated again. Then she said,
“Yes, I agree.”

She had tricked and manipulated her father for years without
a single qualm of conscience, but to do it to Robert, who was himself so
transparently honest, was horrible. With a few words, she could free him from a
burden that he did not seem to welcome. But Esmeralda knew that those few words
would be final. Robert would never think of making love to her again if he
believed annulment was still possible, and that would cause so great a strain
in their relationship as to make any continuance of it impossible.
Not yet
,
she thought as she spoke.
I can always offer him his freedom. I must try to
make a complete marriage work first
.

Although Robert was far from the most perceptive of men
where women were concerned, his sensitivity with regard to Esmeralda had been
greatly heightened because of his desire for her and his guilt about having
possibly mistreated her. The slight hesitation before she answered, which he
would not have noticed under other circumstances, was markedly apparent to him
in this case. He felt an odd sinking in his midsection, thinking that, even if
he had not forced her physically, she had had little choice, then or now. He
would make it up to her, he vowed to himself. He
would
make her happy.

His troubled expression wrung Esmeralda’s heart. She put out
her hand to him, saying, “Robert…”

He took the hand and drew on it, very gently, very
tentatively, as if he were afraid she would resist coming closer, or as if he
hoped she would resist. Esmeralda pushed that second thought out of her mind
and yielded to the hint of a pull, smiling up at him.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” Robert said, his voice as soft and
as uncertain as his grip.

“Is that what’s worrying you?” she asked hopefully. “Because
if it is, I wish you would forget about it. You must have noticed that I
survived.”

Her cheeks were pink again, but Robert saw with intense
relief that her eyes were amused. “Well,” he began with renewed confidence,
“it’s been on my mind, you see, because I…er…” The confidence trickled away as
Robert sought for what he considered proper words for what he wished to say.

“Yes?” Esmeralda asked encouragingly.

“I…ah…I hope I have not…er…given you a…a distaste…a
permanent distaste…”

“Oh dear,” Esmeralda said, and then feeling Robert stiffen
slightly, and his grip on her hand, which had tightened, loosen again, she said
quickly, “No. Oh, Robert, I don’t know how to answer you, not because I don’t
know what I wish to say but because I don’t know the way to say it. My mama
died before I was old enough to have the proper mode of response explained to
me.”

“The proper mode of response,” Robert repeated in a much
more natural voice. “What the devil does that mean?”

“I am not very sure,” Esmeralda replied doubtfully. “Are
there not correct ways, I mean ladylike ways, of responding? I obtained a book
of manners to learn the correct modes for entertaining when I was in India, and
it had pages and pages of proper responses, even one for marriage, but not
for…oh dear, I…I would not wish to seem coarse or…or to shock you.”

Robert burst out laughing. If Merry didn’t wish to shock
him, she could not intend to refuse him. He had no experience at all with
“ladies”, but, from what he had heard from other men and the plays he had seen,
he knew that refusal was always proper and modest. Only acceptance could be
shocking.

“Well,
I
can’t tell you the proper mode.” He
chuckled. “My mama never explained it to me, either.” He hesitated, and then
went on, much more seriously, “And to tell the truth I don’t care what mode you
use so long as…so long as you say yes…I mean, so long as you say you are
willing to be my wife.”

He seemed so earnest and sincere that Esmeralda’s heart
leapt with joy. “Yes, indeed, I am willing,” she replied eagerly. Then she
giggled. “And it is most fortunate that we have come to this agreement just
now, because we have only been assigned a single bedchamber. It would have been
very awkward… I did not know how to explain to M’Guire so…so…”

Robert pulled her closer. “It may not be exactly correct,
but I like your mode very much,” he murmured, and kissed her.

For a very little while Esmeralda remained passive, but she
found the embrace so much to her taste that she soon attempted to wrap her arms
around Robert. She had forgotten that she was holding a basting spoon, which
rapped him smartly on the ear as she brought her arms up. He lifted his head in
surprise.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with fright
because Robert might have thought the blow deliberate.

“Now that,” he said, chuckling, “I can say outright, was not
the proper mode.”

Esmeralda’s expression changed from fright to laughter. “I
am not so sure,” she remarked merrily. “It seems appropriate, now that I think
about it. If a gentleman assaults a maid in the kitchen, a rap with a spoon—”

Robert interrupted her by seizing her and kissing her again.
This time she dropped the spoon, and it fell to the stone floor with a loud
clatter. He released her, uttered an exaggerated sigh, and took a step
backward.

“I take your point. Not in the kitchen.” Then he looked
around with surprise. “What are you doing here anyway? Where’s Molly?”

“I sent her away.” Esmeralda’s color rose at this
confession, and she continued quickly, “I…we had to talk privately, and the
only place to be private would have been the bedchamber if Molly was in the
kitchen.”

“You
are
afraid of me,” Robert said with a worried
frown.

“Yes, but not of what you think,” Esmeralda put in hastily.
“Robert, we have been joking about the proper mode, and in a way it is funny,
of course. Perhaps people should be able to express freely what they feel,
but…but a free expression in some cases might give…give a wrong impression. I
am
afraid, but of seeming too bold, or—”

“Too bold?” Robert took her up on that at once. “Never mind
what other people might think. I am as ignorant as you are of proper maidenly
behavior. I want to know—I
have
to know—did you hate what I did or did
you enjoy it?”

But Esmeralda could not bring herself to answer his question
directly. Instead she stepped closer, put her arms around his neck, and lifted
her face to be kissed, murmuring, “I also thought that Molly would like to be
with M’Guire.”

Robert understood what she meant and accepted her gesture
with pleasure, even though she had not answered in words. The embrace lasted
some considerable time, as he explored not only her mouth but her ears and neck
with his lips. He received enough encouragement that no doubts of Esmeralda’s
pleasure were raised in his mind, for she kissed whatever part of him was
available when he was not occupying her lips with his own. He was just
insinuating his hand under her chin so that he could unbutton the front of her
riding dress when voices sounded outside. They jumped apart, both flushed with
embarrassment.