Redemption of a Fallen Woman (12 page)

‘She must have been very beautiful.’

‘In truth she was, and yet, oddly, it was her hands I noticed first. They were unmistakably those of a lady yet they were so deft and gentle in tending my friend’s wound. It was after they’d patched him up that I began to look at the woman. Does that sound ludicrous?’

‘No. Under the circumstances it makes perfect sense.’

‘My friend had lost a lot of blood so they put him in their spare room until he was well enough to travel. I went to the house every day. The more I saw of Belén the more strongly I was attracted to her. She was not only pretty but also well-educated. We talked about all manner of things. She had a keen sense of humour too, and a strong spirit. It didn’t take me long to fall completely under her spell and to know that I wanted her to be my wife.’

Elena’s stomach knotted. ‘And so you spoke to her father.’

‘Yes. He could tell which way the wind was blowing and he had no objection to make. I wanted us to marry at once, but Belén particularly wished us to wait a little to allow certain members of her family to attend the wedding. It was only a matter of a fortnight and so I agreed.’ He took a deep breath. ‘In the interim the town came under attack, people were killed, businesses looted and many properties set alight, including the house where Belén and her father were living.’

Elena paled. ‘And they didn’t get out.’

‘The building burned like a torch and they were trapped on an upper floor.’

‘Madre de Dios.’

‘By the time I got there the place was an inferno. I tried to get in but the heat was too great. Minutes later the whole interior collapsed.’

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘I should have taken her away while I had the chance.’

‘It’s easy to be wise after the event.’

‘She trusted me and yet, when she needed me most, I failed her.’

‘You must not think like that. You were not to blame for what happened.’

‘And yet I cannot rid myself of guilt. When I think of the terror she must have felt before she died...’ He made a vague gesture with his hand. ‘The crowning irony was that I survived the war. For a long time I wished that I had not.’

‘Your death would not have changed anything, Harry.’

‘I know it, but I’d cheerfully have settled for oblivion.’ His gaze met and held hers. ‘You are not the only one who has stayed out of churches, my sweet.’

The implications resonated deeply and she had no difficulty in empathising with him. What kind of God permitted such things to happen? Not one with whom she had any affinity. Nor it seemed did the man beside her. Their conversation raised other questions too, that required an answer. Yet for the first time she feared to ask.

‘It is not easy to come to terms with the loss of those we love.’

‘No, it isn’t, but there is no use in clinging to the past. Eventually one has to let go and start to look ahead instead.’

‘Yet the scars remain, do they not?’

‘Yes, they remain with us, but they also fade with time.’ He paused. ‘After what happened I never expected to share my life with another human being, but fate took a hand in that. I’m glad it did.’

Her heart missed a beat. ‘Are you?’

‘I am daily more reconciled to my fate.’ He watched her closely. ‘Are you?’

‘I would like us to have a future, Harry.’

‘There is no reason why we should not.’

‘Except that I am no true wife to you. I’m sorry...’ She broke off awkwardly.

He took her gently by the shoulders. ‘I told you once that there was no hurry. That has not changed. When the time is right it will happen.’

‘Does the thought of me not disgust you?’

‘No, why on earth should it?’

Before she could reply they heard the sound of voices from below announcing the arrival of more visitors. Harry sighed. He would very much have liked to continue the conversation but clearly that wasn’t going to be possible for a while.

‘Have you seen enough?’ When she nodded he went on, ‘Let us go down, then.’

The descent was much easier and fifteen minutes later they were out in the open air again. By tacit consent they walked slowly towards the
Alcázar
, stopping briefly to let a carriage pass. It was a handsome equipage drawn by a pair of beautiful chestnut horses. As it passed, Elena glimpsed a crest on the door, although she did not recognise it, or the livery of the footman who rode on the step behind.

The vehicle had barely gone fifty yards before it came to an abrupt halt. The window was lowered and a man leaned out. He scrutinised them keenly for a moment and then his face lit in a beaming smile.

‘Is it possible?’

Elena looked quizzically at her companion. ‘A friend of yours, by any chance?’

‘He does look familiar I have to say.’

‘But you don’t recognise him.’

‘Not immediately,’ he admitted.

The carriage door opened and a man got out. Then he strode towards them. As he drew near his smile widened.

‘Harry Montague! I knew I was not mistaken.’

Recovering his wits and his memory, Harry returned the smile. ‘Villanueva! Of all people. This is a pleasant surprise.’

The two men shook hands warmly. Elena regarded the newcomer with interest. He was of an age with Harry and almost the same height. The face with its neat moustache and goatee beard was also strikingly handsome. His dress proclaimed him a nobleman. Harry performed the introductions.

‘May I present the Conde de Villanueva. Conde, this is my wife, Elena.’

The conde’s dark gaze swept her from head to foot, registering admiration. ‘An honour, my lady.’ He smiled. ‘Your husband is a fortunate man.’

‘I know it,’ said Harry.

‘It has been a long time, my friend. Too long.’

‘Yes, it has.’

‘May I ask what good fortune brings you to Sevilla?’

‘A matter of business.’

‘Do you stay long?’

‘I’m really not sure. Some days at least.’

‘That is excellent. My wife and I are holding a ball on Wednesday to celebrate our wedding anniversary. We would be honoured if you were able to attend.’

Elena knew Harry would decline. As he had said, they were here on business, and besides, all her gowns were in Madrid. She hadn’t anything suitable to wear and not enough time to have anything made. It was an impossible situation.

‘We’d be delighted, wouldn’t we, my dear?’

For a moment she couldn’t believe that she’d heard aright. Then, recollecting her manners, she summoned a gracious smile. ‘I can’t think of anything I’d like more.’

The conde beamed. ‘That’s settled, then. Here is my card—the direction is on it. I regret that I cannot stay to talk further but I am on my way to an appointment.’

‘Don’t let us delay you,’ said Harry.

‘Until Wednesday, then.’

With that the conde left them and a few moments later the carriage rolled away. ‘That was unexpected,’ said Harry. ‘I haven’t seen him since the end of the war.’

‘How did you meet him?’

‘By chance. He was an officer in the Spanish army and his men fought various actions in support of the British. He was a capable leader and a brave fighter.’

‘He obviously remembered you.’

‘I can recall him mentioning Andalucia, but not that his home was in Seville. It’s a happy accident at all events.’

‘Is it?’

‘He’s pleasant enough company. Besides, now you have a ball to look forward to.’

‘I’d look forward to it a lot more if my gowns were not in Madrid.’

‘Heavens, I’d forgotten that.’ He looked thoughtful. ‘We have a little time though, so I’m sure something can be contrived.’

Elena wished she could share his optimism.

Chapter Thirteen

I
n fact, Harry was as good as his word and, having made enquiries, took her to visit a reputable dressmaker. When patterns and fabrics had been discussed and Elena’s figure measured, the question of a delivery date arose. She opened her mouth to apologise for the short notice but Harry was before her.

‘My wife requires the gown on Wednesday afternoon. Kindly see that it is delivered to our lodgings.’ He gave the woman the direction and tossed a purse of coins onto the table. ‘Here is a little something on account. You will get the rest when the gown is finished.’

Elena blinked. She had never heard him sound so peremptory or so arrogant. His present mien fitted the words too, so that he looked and sounded liked the archetype of a haughty Spanish hidalgo. Nevertheless, it did not fail in achieving the desired effect. The dressmaker stared at the purse and then bestowed on him a fawning smile.

‘I thank you, Your Excellency. Certainly the dress will be ready on Wednesday afternoon.’

‘I’m quite sure of it,’ he replied.

The woman ushered them to the door with all ceremony and then bade them an almost reverent farewell. With that they left the premises.

Elena stared at her companion, torn between incredulity and amusement. ‘That was outrageous.’

His expression was unrepentant. ‘It was intended to be.’

‘I’d like to ask how much was in that purse but I’m afraid you wouldn’t tell me.’

‘I’m afraid you’d be right.’

‘It is kind of you to do this. I appreciate it.’

‘Did you think I would let you go to the ball in rags, Cinderella?’

She laughed. ‘Perhaps not. All the same it was a generous gesture.’

‘Should not a husband buy his wife a gown?’

‘It’s a new thought for me. Up to now I’ve had to purchase my own.’

‘Do you think you might grow accustomed to the idea?’

‘I really believe I might.’

* * *

As there was no word from Garrido they spent the next two days exploring the city. Harry was an entertaining companion and Elena enjoyed his company. Indeed when she was with him it was hard to be aware of anyone else. He put himself completely at her disposal, a novelty for one who had until lately been so self-reliant. He was also quietly attentive to her every need. It was the first time in her adult life that a man had ever made her feel as if she mattered, and she found it an oddly agreeable sensation. In many ways it was a deferred courtship. He encouraged her to talk and listened carefully to what was said but was never censorious. It was surprisingly easy to confide in him. He made no demands or any attempt to initiate intimacy and when he did touch her, to offer his arm or to point something out for her attention or to put a hand in the small of her back and guide her gently through a doorway, it seemed natural and right. His nearness was exciting but never threatening and she relaxed and enjoyed being with him. The thought of the forthcoming ball filled her with pleasant anticipation since it would be the first time they had attended such a function together.

They had returned from a walk along the banks of the Guadalquivir when a message arrived for Harry. He opened it hurriedly and scanned the contents.

‘It’s from Garrido. He asks me to call upon him. Would you mind if I left you for a while?’

‘Not at all. Of course you must go.’

‘I shan’t be too long.’

‘I’ll still be here,’ she replied. ‘And, Harry...good luck.’

‘Thank you. I’m rather hoping for some luck myself.’

* * *

When he arrived at Garrido’s house he was admitted at once. His host rose to meet him with a smile.

‘You are prompt, my lord.’

‘It is a matter of considerable importance. I can do no other.’

Garrido bade him be seated and then poured two glasses of amontillado. He handed one to his guest and sat down in the chair opposite.

‘Since last we spoke I have made enquiries among my acquaintance in the service,’ he said. ‘From them I have news of Xavier Sanchez.’

Harry drew a deep breath, dreading to ask the question but knowing he must. ‘Is he still alive?’

‘Oh, yes, very much so.’ Garrido smiled. ‘Alive and currently living in Cádiz.’

Harry’s heart beat a little faster now. ‘Do you have his direction?’

His host reached into his coat pocket and took out a folded sheet of paper. ‘It is written here.’

Harry took it and glanced at the contents, struggling to repress emotion. The last piece of the puzzle was in his hand. All he had to do now was make use of the information and he would get the proof he sought. He would actually speak to the man who was with Jamie at the end. For a moment it was hard to speak.

‘I cannot thank you enough for your help in this matter, not only on my account but on behalf of my family too.’

‘I am very glad that I was able to help.’

‘Is Sanchez also retired from the service now?’

Garrido smiled faintly. ‘No, but then he is much younger than I.’

‘Is Cádiz his home town?’

‘Again, no. He comes from Valladolid, I believe.’

‘Then he is in Cádiz on business,’ said Harry.

‘I imagine so.’

‘I hope I shall not miss him.’

‘My understanding is that he’ll be there awhile yet.’

‘That’s good to hear.’ Harry’s mind was already moving ahead. ‘Besides, it is not so far to Cádiz.’

‘Will you leave at once?’

‘No. My wife and I have a social obligation to attend to first.’

Garrido looked genuinely surprised. ‘Your wife is with you as well?’

‘That’s right.’

‘It is a long and hard journey from Madrid. Most women would hesitate to undertake it.’

‘She is not like most women,’ said Harry.

‘Indeed not. She must be remarkable.’

‘Yes, she is.’ As he said it Harry recognised the words for truth. ‘All the same she is glad to have a few days’ break in town.’

‘I can imagine.’ Garrido smiled. ‘Pray convey my respects to the lady.’

‘I’ll do that.’

Harry rose from his chair and the two men shook hands warmly.

‘If ever you return to Sevilla I hope you will call upon me,’ said Garrido.

‘I’ll make a point of it,
señor
.’

With that Harry took his leave. He barely noticed the journey back; his mind was elsewhere. He wanted to tell Elena his news. Even though he’d been gone barely an hour he realised he’d missed her. Already she had become so much a part of everyday life that it was hard to recall a time when she hadn’t been there. Now that he thought about it the years since Belén had been a void that he’d tried to fill with work and the dreary social round. Somehow, without his being aware of it, the void was gone and with it all sense of dreariness. There hadn’t been a dull day since first he met Elena.

She was waiting for him in the private parlour and rose eagerly to meet him, her expression both anxious and hopeful at once.

‘Well?’

He handed her the sheet of paper that Garrido had given him earlier. She took it and scanned the contents, then gave him a quizzical look. Harry grinned.

‘It’s Xavier Sanchez’s direction.’

For a moment she stared at him; then her face lit in a dazzling smile. ‘Oh, Harry, that’s wonderful.’ Impulsively she crossed the intervening space and hugged him. ‘I’m so pleased for you.’

He lifted her off the floor and swung her round. ‘Isn’t it marvellous? I never hoped for so much.’

‘Cádiz is not that far.’

‘You’re right.’ He gave her a resounding kiss and set her down. ‘It is not above eighty miles. With luck we can be there in a week.’

Feeling a little breathless now and keenly aware of the hands still spanning her waist, she tried to concentrate.

‘Do you want to leave straight away? I mean, we can forgo the ball if you’d rather. I’m sure the conde would understand.’

‘By no means. This news should be celebrated.’

‘I think it should.’

He looked into her face and his expression became more intense. Then, slowly, he bent closer and his mouth met hers in a gentler and altogether more intimate embrace. Elena leaned towards him, sliding her arms round his neck. His hold tightened and he drew her against him, seeking her response. Instinctively her mouth opened beneath his, her tongue flirting lightly with his.

A familiar heat flared in his groin. It shocked him to realise just how badly he wanted her; wanted to undress her, take her to bed and make love to her all afternoon. Imagination only increased desire and heightened arousal.

With a real effort of will he drew back knowing he couldn’t afford to take this any further; that to do so would undo everything he had achieved over the past few weeks. Elena wasn’t ready for a display of unbridled passion. She needed tenderness and patience. Besides, he had no right to make her his when he hadn’t yet told her the whole truth. He felt ashamed of his reticence now. She was beginning to trust him without having any idea of what she was really doing. Once again the knowledge of her vulnerability only enhanced his guilt. There was only one right course of action now.

Elena felt him draw away mentally as well as physically, but her dominant emotion was disappointment rather than relief. His kiss filled her with new and wonderful sensations and she had not wanted him to stop. On the contrary her imagination had supplied a series of images that were decidedly titillating. However, it seemed that Harry wasn’t yet prepared to take things to a different level. He had denied feeling disgust about her past, and part of him did desire her, she was sure of that, but he couldn’t bring himself to go beyond the occasional kiss. What astonished her most of all was that she did want him to, that she wanted to trust him.

‘Elena, there’s something I need to tell you.’

His voice drew her out of her reverie. ‘Oh?’

Her bright, expectant gaze made him feel worse. Most of all he dreaded the altered expression in her eyes that he knew must follow this conversation.

‘You might want to sit down.’

Somewhat bemused now she settled herself in a chair nearby. ‘Harry, what is it? Something you learned from Señor Garrido?’

‘No.’ He only wished it were that simple. ‘It’s nothing to do with that.’

‘What, then?’

Before he could reply there was a knock at the door. Mentally stifling a curse he bade the caller enter. It was the
patrón
and he was bearing a bouquet of hothouse flowers.

‘These were delivered a few minutes ago,’ he explained.

‘By whom?’ demanded Harry.

‘A servant brought them
, señor
. He said to tell you that they come with the compliments of the Conde and Condesa de Villanueva.’

‘Indeed.’

‘Sí, señor.’
The
patrón
beamed. ‘Where do you wish me to put them?’

Harry bit back the response that came first to mind. ‘On the table.’

When the man had complied Harry dismissed him. Elena rose and went to examine the flowers.

‘They’re beautiful. What a very kind attention.’

‘Yes, isn’t it?’

Something in his voice jarred a little. ‘Harry? Is something the matter?’

He summoned a smile. ‘Of course not. And you’re right. It is kind.’

Elena relaxed again. ‘Do you know, I can’t recall the last time I saw flowers like these. Is not the scent delicious?’

‘It certainly is.’

He moved closer and surveyed the bouquet, privately wondering if the condesa even knew of its existence. All he could see in his mind’s eye was the handsome face of his erstwhile colleague and the way in which he had looked at Elena before. The image caused an unexpected and unwonted emotion. That the man should take the further liberty of expressing his admiration in this way was breathtaking arrogance. He took a deep breath and mentally counted to ten. Then he felt ashamed of his response. It didn’t matter. Why on earth was he overreacting to something so trivial? Let Elena enjoy the flowers.

She looked up. ‘What was it you were going to tell me, before we were interrupted?’

‘Nothing that won’t keep,’ he replied.

As soon as he’d said it he wished he hadn’t. He needed to tell her the truth. Yet the moment had been lost and he felt rattled besides.

Elena regarded him quizzically. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Indeed.’ He paused. ‘Perhaps we should ask Concha to find a container for those flowers. Otherwise they’ll wither.’

‘Now you’re changing the subject.’

For a few moments he was silent but under the weight of that steady gaze it was impossible to pretend. Elena was too perceptive to be easily deceived and he didn’t want to deceive her in any case.

‘It’s something I’ve wanted to say but didn’t know how.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘It concerns Belén, or rather the circumstances surrounding that tale.’ He hesitated. ‘What I’ve told you thus far is all true, but one detail is missing.’

‘What detail?’

Harry steeled himself. ‘The place where these events occurred was Badajoz.’

Elena was completely still, staring at him in appalled disbelief. ‘Badajoz?’ Then the implications began to dawn. ‘Then you must have been among the British troops who...’

‘I was among the British troops who besieged the town, and afterwards I was among the officers who tried to stop the looting.’

Disbelief vied with slow-burning anger. ‘Why did you not tell me this before?’

‘I wanted to but somehow the right moment never came along.’

‘The right moment?’

He sighed. ‘I know. There never could be a right moment for such a disclosure.’

‘Yet we have discussed this subject before. There were opportunities to tell me.’

‘In truth I did not know how.’

‘But now you do?’ Her heart thumped unpleasantly hard. This man was her husband, the man she most wanted to trust. How could he have waited so long to tell her?

‘If you are prepared to hear it,’ he replied.

A part of her wanted to fling the suggestion back in his teeth, but, in a more rational area of her mind, she knew that she needed to hear him. All the same this dilatoriness hurt beyond measure.

‘Very well.’

The icy tone was at distinct variance with the burning anger and hurt he saw in her eyes and he cursed his tardiness. He should have said something long ago. Perhaps if he had got it out into the open earlier they might have been better able to deal with it. From the start she had tried to be open with him, to face the things she knew to be difficult. Yet what had been his response?
Let’s pretend it didn’t happen.