Lady Emma's Campaign (6 page)

She took a step to the side to face the warden. “Lieutenant, I must insist that Captain Fletcher accompany me back to Cádiz. His treatment has been absolutely abominable, and I shall report this abuse to His Excellency, Henry Wellesley, as well as to Lord Wellington. I am aware of the rules governing the treatment of an officer, and I insist that the
parole d’honneur
be granted based on the courtesy of Captain Fletcher’s rank. And furthermore—”

“Emma. Stop,” Sidney said, taking another step to obstruct her view of the warden. His jaw was clenched, and he struggled to keep his voice calm. “This is our enemy’s domain. You do not have the advantage here.” He took her arm, leaning closer. “Such talk is dangerous. You must return to William.” A heaviness grew in Sidney’s gut. Emma had no idea how serious this situation was.

Emma pulled her arm from his grasp. The expression on her face was determined. “I shall not leave without you.”

Lieutenant Trenchard stepped around Sidney. “The mademoiselle is correct. She shall not leave, though I will do my best to ensure she is quite comfortable while she remains.”

Emma gasped.

Hot anger shot through Sidney’s chest, leaving him dizzy. He lunged at the warden, only to be seized by the guards. His own punishments had caused him a great deal of agony, but that was nothing compared to the anguish he felt at the idea that Emma would come to harm because of him. He strained and fought against the guards, but reinforcements arrived, and even the strength borne of panic could not free him from their restraints.

“How could I allow her to depart when I have finally been given the tool I have searched for? I do not think it will be difficult to extract information, Captain, when you would no doubt wish to keep the lady from harm.” The warden’s eyes bore into Sidney’s. “Do not fear,
mon ami
, I shall remain ever the gentleman—until you give me reason not to.” He lifted a curl that hung at Emma’s neck.

Emma jerked away, her eyes wide with fear. “
Monsieur!
”

“Do not touch her,” Sidney said through gritted teeth. He thrashed against the men holding his arms but was unable to break free. This man did not obey the rules of engagement. The warden was no gentleman. He acted on his own and was accountable to no one. The man’s obsession with the treasure and his belief that Sidney was concealing it from him had obliterated any honorable actions. Sidney’s fear of what the man might do—or allow others to do—to Emma caused him to see red. Digging deep, he clung to every bit of discipline drilled into him by the navy.

“
Oui
. I think she will be very effective, Captain.”

Emma’s heart pounded and her
knees felt weak. This was impossible. This lieutenant would be sorry for treating her this way when she returned with William and the ambassador and Lord Wellington and possibly the entire British army.

“I must leave now, Monsieur Trenchard,” she said, attempting to sound firm. “My escort is waiting.”

The warden smiled rather as a shark might before he took a bite, and Emma cringed. He called to a guard and spoke rapidly in French to him, ordering him to fetch the señorita. The guard saluted, hurried down the stairs, and disappeared through a doorway.

Emma took the opportunity to move toward the entrance. She was determined to rejoin her escort and find a way to get Sidney out of this horrible place. However, she had taken no more than three steps before Lieutenant Trenchard stopped her. He gripped her arm so tightly that tears sprung to her eyes.

“Monsieur, you are hurting me,” Emma said, stunned that the man would touch her in such a coarse manner. Her mouth went dry, her mind wavering between outrage and fear. She glanced once more toward where Sidney struggled to free himself. While she watched, one of the soldiers raised his musket and drove the butt into Sidney’s stomach. He groaned and bent over. The guard followed with another blow to the back of the head.

Emma’s mind raced. She must get Sidney away from this place. She was torn between running to him and running for help. She looked toward the entrance again, but her escort was nowhere in sight. Where there had been merely a few guards earlier, it seemed that every soldier in the garrison had begun to assemble at the gates. Some men distributed weapons, speaking excitedly. She heard the sounds of a commotion outside the fort—yelling and what she thought might be distant gunshots. Was her attempt to rescue Sidney the cause of all of this activity?

She was struggling to pull her arm from the warden’s painful grasp when she heard a woman’s voice.

“Captain Fletcher!” A young woman ran across the courtyard followed by the guard the warden had spoken to earlier. The woman wore traditional Spanish peasant clothing: A mantilla attached to her hair by a comb, and from it draped black lace which spread over her shoulders like a shawl. Her blouse was white cotton, her skirts full and colorful, and a red sash wrapped around her waist, accentuating her curvy figure.

The woman held on to Sidney’s arm and helped him to stand upright. She placed her hands on his shoulders, leaning her face close to his. The two of them spoke quickly to each other in Spanish before the woman was pulled away by a guard. Based on the familiar way she touched him and how they had spoken together, the woman and Sidney had a relationship that went beyond mere acquaintances. The thought shot a pang through Emma’s heart.

The warden stepped closer. “Señorita, I have a companion for you. Please show her to your quarters.”

Numbness spread from Emma’s chest to her fingers. Her throat began to close, and she was having difficulty breathing. She did not want to follow this señorita anywhere. Her mind tumbled as she tried to grasp any sort of plan, but she came up with nothing.

The woman looked at Emma then back at Sidney. Cocking an eyebrow, she nodded and motioned for Emma to follow.

“No!” Emma yelled, trying to make her voice sound as if she were not on the verge of tears. “I will not remain here any longer. I—”

A pain erupted in her head, and Sidney yelled something that she did not understand. For a moment, Emma didn’t know what had happened. She spied her bonnet a foot away and realized that the warden had slapped her with enough force to knock it to the ground. She pressed her hands to her cheek, biting back tears and fighting the image of her father striking her mother in precisely the same manner. She picked up her bonnet, staring at it, wondering why her mind would not work properly.

The Spanish woman tugged on her arm urgently, pulling her toward the passageway on the other side of the courtyard.

Sidne
y
!
Emma turned back toward him. She didn’t even attempt to contain her tears now.

He continued to struggle with the guards who were pulling him back to the underground tunnels. “Emma,” he called. “You can trust Serena.”

She looked at the woman next to her. She was beautiful, and Sidney had called her by her Christian name. Emma’s tears flowed freely now. “Serena?”

“
Sí
.” Serena glanced back at the warden and, taking Emma’s hand, began to lead her quickly toward the stairs. “Come.
Que estará bien
. You will be all right.”

The warden followed. His expression twisted into a cruel sneer, no longer hiding behind a mask of civility.

Emma felt cold—and foolish. Had she truly thought she would be able to carry out such a thing? It had seemed so simple when she’d envisioned the amazing rescue and triumphant return to Cádiz. William would have been so proud. Sidney would have been so grateful. She was a fool, imagining he would have dropped to one knee and proposed as soon as they reached British soil. She had never dreamed the French would not follow the rules of polite society, but the bruises and cuts on Sidney’s face and the blow from Lieutenant Trenchard confirmed the reality—she had underestimated the true severity of the situation. The fear intensified at the thought that she may have placed Sidney in even more danger.

As Serena continued to pull Emma away from the courtyard, Emma fully grasped that she had made a botch of her rescue attempt, recklessly inserting herself into a situation where she had become a liability instead of an asset.

Sidney had said to trust Serena. Emma glanced toward her, studying her profile. If she had to guess, she would assume the young woman was close to her own age, perhaps a bit older. Beneath the black lace of her mantilla, thick, curling dark hair poured over her shoulders and surrounded a high cheek-boned face. Her features were bold and exotic: plump lips, long lashes, brown doe-eyes, and ivory skin. Next to her, Emma felt plain and dull.

Emma followed Serena, walking quickly down the dark passageway. She could hear the footsteps of the lieutenant behind her and hurried her pace. Serena tightened her hold, giving Emma a little tug when she stumbled over the rough stones.

Soldiers hurried past them, calling to each other in French, and Emma felt the tension in the air. Was this regular procedure in the fort? Or was something amiss?

Serena stopped in front of a heavy wooden door, pulling Emma to the side while the warden took a large key ring out of his pocket.

Emma attempted to replace her bonnet, but the warden’s blow had torn the ribbons, rendering it impossible to attach. She pulled her silk shawl closer around her shoulders, feeling even more vulnerable with her head bare.

Without warning, the explosions of gunfire sounded from outside the fort. Even muffled as it was in the passageway, it was deafening. Emma covered her ears.

Serena’s gaze darted around. Her eyes were shrewd and intelligent.

“The prison is under attack. This is our chance for escape,” Serena whispered. She looked pointedly at Emma, motioning toward the keys.

Emma squinted her eyes and shook her head, not understanding.

The warden opened the door, and the sounds of gunfire and men yelling hit Emma like a wave. The room’s small window high up on the wall was the source of the noise. Lieutenant Trenchard hurried between a bed and a small table to peer out the window.

Serena touched Emma’s hand, motioning again toward the ring of keys that hung forgotten in the door.
She wants me to get the keys!
Emma’s heart clenched in terror, but with her hands shaking and her pulse pounding in her ears, she turned her back to the room and attempted to extract the key from the lock as silently as she could.

A crash startled her, and she jumped away from the door, ducking from the blow the warden was sure to deliver. But when she turned, Emma screamed and quickly clapped her hand over her mouth. The lieutenant was lying upon the floor, bits of pottery around him. Serena knelt next to him, pulling off his uniform jacket.

Emma could not move for the space of a breath. She stood, shocked, one hand gripping the key ring and the other pressed to her mouth.

Serena looked at her, raising her eyebrows and tilting her head in an expression that could only be described as irritation. “
Ayúdame.
Help me. For Captain Fletcher.” Then she went back to wrenching the unconscious man’s arm from his coat sleeve.

Emma finally regained her wits and closed the door. She stepped closer and, with her fingertips, gripped the cuff of the sleeve while Serena reached inside the jacket and pulled the warden’s arm, finally managing to bend his elbow. Emma shook the jacket, and the arm fell out, hitting the ground with a slap. She hurriedly pulled on the other sleeve, and once the jacket was free, Serena tore a long strip from a bed sheet, indicating for Emma to help her bind the man’s hands and feet. Emma gingerly pulled at the strips, not wanting to touch Lieutenant Trenchard’s wrists and certainly not his ankles. She might be trapped in a dirty prison, but she was still a lady.

Serena gave her another look of exasperation, blowing out her breath and flipping her hair out of her face.

The sounds of battle continued outside the fort, and soldiers ran down the passageway sporadically. Emma tried not to think about what would happen when someone discovered what they had done.

Serena took the keys, handed Emma the warden’s jacket and hat, then carefully opened the door and peered outside.

Emma rolled the jacket into a bundle and nervously watched Lieutenant Trenchard for any signs that he might awaken.

Finally, Serena darted out of the door, pulling Emma behind her. She turned the key in the lock and, without releasing Emma’s hand, walked quickly down the passageway.

When they emerged into the courtyard, chaos surrounded them. Soldiers fired weapons from the battlements above while more men ran to the gates with muskets or led horses from the stables near the main entrance. A few groups operated cannons, and Emma nearly collapsed in terror when the massive weapons fired.

Serena continued to pull her through the smoke and confusion toward the archway that led to the below-ground dungeon she’d been taken to when she’d first arrived.

Emma’s mind began to clear, and she focused on the task that had brought her to this terrible place: rescuing Sidney.

Once they reached the gate, Serena shoved a key into the lock, wiggling, twisting, and finally pulling it out and trying another.

Emma looked around, hoping they were not attracting any attention, but the fighting caused enough of a distraction that nobody seemed to notice the two women.

The gate finally opened on squeaking hinges. Emma grabbed the lantern and the tinderbox next to it before following Serena through the opening.

Serena closed and locked the gate while Emma set about lighting the lantern. She had only ever seen servants and men use a tinderbox, but she didn’t think it could be too difficult. Holding the u-shaped steel over the box, she struck it repeatedly with the flint. Nothing happened.

Serena joined her, and they moved away from the gate into the semidarkness of the stairwell.

Emma continued to strike the steel and was eventually rewarded with a spark or two, but she was unable to direct them into the chamber to ignite the tinder. Frustrated, she handed the tinderbox to Serena, whose efforts were equally unproductive.

The women looked at each other for a moment.

Serena glanced behind them at the dark stairway. She pressed her lips together, “I have not been in the dungeon. You can find Captain Fletcher in the dark?”

Emma nodded then shook her head. “I do not know.”

Serena’s eyes held Emma’s, her brows were knit together anxiously, but after a moment, her expression softened. She smiled encouragingly and took Emma’s hand again, but this time, it felt like a gesture of support rather than exasperation.

Emma led the way down the steep staircase, deeper into the darkness. Before long, she moved the bundle of the warden’s jacket into the crook of the arm that held Serena’s hand and began feeling her way, with her fingers upon the rough wall. Once they reached the pitch dark of the passageway, Emma walked blindly, testing the space before her with sliding feet. She wished she had remembered the passage more clearly, but the way had been shadowed and she’d been so anxious to find Sidney and bask in his gratitude for her rescue that she had not paid close attention to the number of doors they’d passed. Both girls jumped when something scurried across their feet, and Serena pressed closer to her.

“I think it is just a bit farther. I do not remember which door,” Emma whispered.

“We must hurry.” Serena’s voice shook slightly, betraying her anxiety.

Emma didn’t know what would happen if they were caught. The very idea of facing the lieutenant again made her chest feel tight. She ran her hand along the damp stone wall and stopped when she reached an outcropping that she thought must be a doorframe. Moving her fingers a bit farther, she touched a wooden board.

What if it was the wrong door? She had no idea what sort of things were hidden in the dungeon. And though she assumed it held only prisoners of war, the thought that she might accidentally release a Turk or Ashanti warrior or, even worse, a savage American into the dark hall with them terrified her.

Emma debated whether or not to try to open the door. She gripped Serena’s hand tightly for courage and ran her fingers over the rough wood, searching for the handle. She took a steadying breath and pressed her ear against the boards.