Vidal's Honor (13 page)

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Before anyone moved, two men appeared leading a mule laden with several sacks, boxes, and a large net full of hay. Wordlessly they handed the reins to Vidal, and left as fast as they'd arrived.

“Vidal?” The sound of Honor's voice snapped him out of his astonishment. Why come all this way, allow Cedric to attempt to shoot Honor and then leave without her? He dropped to his knees once more.

“I'll follow them.” Juan's voice distracted him long enough to forbid such foolishness.

“What can you do on your own against so many armed men?”

“I said follow them, not attack them.”

“Makes no difference — they'll be on the watch for you.”

Juan transferred his glare from Vidal to Honor. “If she hadn't fallen none of this would have happened.”

“That strikes me that as either exceedingly foolish or arrogant. They were close enough behind us for them to shoot us in our sleep.” Vidal indicated Phillipe's body. “See what can be done for him.”

“Did you know about Cedric?” Turning his head to follow Juan's movements gave him time to assess the effect of the double shock Honor had suffered. He still wasn't sure if he could move her without creating more injury.

“Stay still,” he commanded before shaking his head. “No, I didn't know the agent's identity, but after we talked last night, I began to wonder. Dundas assured me they would arrest him the moment my ship left port. It seems Cedric gave him the slip.”

A string of curses, followed by the sound of tearing cloth caught Vidal's attention. He looked up in time to see Juan ripping a strip from the hem of Consuela's skirt and grinned at her outraged squawk. After a snapped response from Juan, they both crossed to attend to Phillipe where he lay.

“I'm not sure, but I think Phillipe is still alive.” The knowledge that Devlin's close friend and batman had betrayed Devlin gutted him. It was, he decided, a good thing he had to attend to Honor, otherwise he might have killed the man himself.

“Why?” Tears mingled with the blood that still trickled from the gash on her face. “It surprised me when I saw him standing so close to the earl's tent that morning.”

“Who?”

“Phillipe.” Her voice trembled and she drew in several deep breaths. “The earl's instructions seemed to take forever that morning, and I left our tent with the intention of waiting for Dev nearby. This was his last mission before we returned home. Did you know that?”

He did. She'd told him but had doubtlessly forgotten, so he remained silent, allowing Honor to carry on at her own pace He removed his jacket, folded it, and tucked it beneath her head. It no longer mattered where Cedric and his band of men were. With Phillipe shot and Honor unable to move due to her injuries and shock, they weren't going anywhere in the near future. He glanced up at the mountain peak. Unlike the previous one, this would not reveal a magical plateau with a huge calm blue lake that sparkled in the late September sun.

“We were planning to hold a large party to celebrate our third wedding anniversary.” Her voice broke and she clutched at his arm. With great care Vidal eased her into a sitting position and sighed when she didn't cry out with pain. He just hoped she hadn't broken any bones and guessed they'd soon find out when she tried to stand.

“I'm sure it would have been a splendid party.” For a moment he could almost hear the music in his head. Could hear the laughter of Dev's friends as they celebrated the anniversary. Instead—

No point going there; it would never happen. Right now, Honor sought comfort and so he wrapped his arms around her, allowing himself to wish for the moon.

“He tried to persuade me not to follow him to Spain.” The anguish in Honor's voice jolted him back to his surroundings.

“Now I don't know whether I was, in part, responsible for his death.”

Astonishment rendered Vidal speechless for several seconds before he could form a protest. “I don't know where you got that idea from, but I suggest you dismiss it from your mind immediately.”

“There was a terrible storm that night and we laughed. And told each other no one would hear us.”

He didn't want to know such details, didn't want to conjure up the image of Honor in Devlin's arms.

“I didn't pay attention at the time, beyond thinking about our departure for England the next evening, but there was an intensity about Dev—”

“What are you saying?” About to thrust her away from him to look into Honor's face, Vidal remembered her injuries in time to make the shift himself.

“I'm not sure but during the weeks after… something kept bothering me. I can't explain it,” she finished on an exasperated sigh. “There was something different about him that night.” She looked up at him now. “And the next morning when he left me, I'm sure he had a premonition we'd never see each other again.”

“Are you saying he rode out knowing they were waiting for him?”

Such an act of stupidity didn't sound like the Devlin of old.

“No,” she denied, “that's not what I'm saying. I remember thinking the meeting with Wellington was almost twice the normal length. I believe he knew of the increased danger of the mission assigned to him that morning.”

“Do you think Wellington told Devlin about Cedric?”

For a moment longer Honor clung to his arm, her forehead resting against his shoulder before pulling back. “No,” she said positively. “No, I cannot believe he would have entrusted me to Phillipe if he was aware of the connection between him and Cedric.” She sat up straight and winced with the pain. “Looking back, I'm sure Phillipe knew Cedric was not far behind you when you caught up with us.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because the day I left, he was furious with you for being late and made some comment about distracting the men who were tracking your every movement. That's why he sent me away with Tom and Harry.” The ghost of a smile tweaked the corner of her mouth up.

“How are you Mrs. Beaumont?” Juan's shadow reached them before his enquiry. “I am sorry, I thought you'd been careless and stumbled on some loose stones. It wasn't until your friend tried to rescue you I realised you'd become a victim of a rock-slide.”

While the apology was directed at Honor, Vidal accepted it was Juan's way of apologising for his harsh judgement before Phillipe's arrival upon the scene.

“Thank you. How is Phillipe?”

“He lives, how long for I cannot guess.”

Rather than attempt to move her head, she raised one hand in acknowledgement.

“How is she?” Juan directed his question at Vidal.

She watched Vidal shake his head and wondered whether he assumed she, too, was about to die.

“I hesitate to lift her in case she has broken some bones. She is in great pain, and I pray she has escaped any major catastrophe. When she can, Lady Beaumont will do her best to enable us to move somewhere less exposed.” Vidal offered her a reassuring smile then turned back to Juan. “Are you familiar enough with this area to know of any nearby caves or shelter we can move to?”

After a moment the Spaniard dropped down beside them. “About half-an-hour away there are some caves. Not big, you understand, but they will provide shelter. Do you think you can travel that far, Mrs. Beaumont?”

Not certain at all, Honor nodded. “I'll try.” She held out her hands and pressed her lips together when the men helped her up. The ground beneath her feet heaved and her surroundings swirled past like children dancing round a Maypole. She clung to both men until the swirling stopped and the pitching eased.

Even the thought of a hangman's noose waiting for her in England failed to destroy her determination to get home.