Redemption of a Fallen Woman. Joanna Fulford
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to the door and, after listening carefully, opened it a crack. From the end of the corridor she could just make out the murmur of men’s voices. Then a door opened further down the passageway.
‘Is that everything?’
‘Aye, my lord. Groom’s bringing t’horses round directly. I’ll take these bags down now.’
A few moments later the English servant went past carrying saddlebags. Elena frowned; she had mistakenly assumed that Lord Henry would continue his journey by coach but of course it was quicker to ride. Easier too, given the state of the roads. She had no leisure to consider the implications because, as the servant disappeared from view, his master hove into sight and he was unmistakably dressed for riding. Elena’s heartbeat quickened. She could only hope he would forgive what she was about to do. When he had gone she turned back to Concha.
‘Now.’
The two women left the room and, closing the door silently after them, hurried along the passage to the chamber so recently vacated. Once inside they locked the door after them. Concha dragged the sheets off the bed. While she tied them together Elena went to the window and peered out. Then she breathed a sigh of relief. The lane below was deserted. Just now all attention would be on the front of the house from whence Lord Henry was leaving. Her aunts had said their farewells the previous evening and Don Fernando and Don Esteban never rose before ten. Her uncle would likely be the only one abroad because courtesy demanded he be present to see his guest depart. With a pounding heart she turned to her companion.
‘Come on, Concha. It’s now or never.’
They fastened one end of the makeshift rope to the central mullion and flung the rest out of the window. It snaked away down the wall and stopped a few feet clear of the bottom. Elena climbed over the sill and then, taking a firm grip on the sheet, began her descent. It was only a short distance to jump at the end and then she was standing in the lane. Moments later Concha joined her. They exchanged grins and then, together, they ran.
Another two minutes brought them to the waiting horses. Of necessity they had to keep to a steady pace until they were clear of the city and Elena had to resist the urge to look over her shoulder every five minutes. There was no reason to fear pursuit just yet. With luck it would be hours before their flight was discovered. Enquiries would reveal that they were seen heading west, but once clear of Madrid they would circle round and turn south instead. After that they would have to ride fast. Fortunately they were well used to that. If they could throw off their pursuers for long enough her family would likely wash their hands of the whole business. She and Concha would go to England. It was going to be a long and dangerous journey but, if things turned out as she’d planned, they wouldn’t have to do it alone.
Harry and Jack made good progress over the course of the day and, by evening, had covered about twenty miles. It might have been more but they’d stopped at midday to rest the horses, and thereafter had deliberately slackened the pace. With so many miles to cover it made no sense to push their mounts too hard, especially not in the heat of the day. Harry was glad it was not yet summer so the midday heat would not be too fierce.
They made their camp by a stream, and having attended to the animals’ needs, turned to their own. Don Manuel had been generous in providing them with provisions so they wouldn’t need to concern themselves with that for a while. Afterwards they could stop off en route to restock, even hunt if necessary.
‘Did you ever visit Seville before, my lord?’
‘No, but I understand it’s a beautiful city.’
‘I heard that too. It’ll be interesting to find out.’ Jack smiled wryly. ‘T’army didn’t allow time for much sightseeing.’
‘No, it didn’t.’
‘When I left Spain after t’war I never thought as how I’d be back one day.’
‘Nor I.’
‘Strange how things work out, isn’t it?’
Harry sighed. ‘Very strange. If there is a divine plan I’m damned if I know what it is.’
‘Well, I suppose if we don’t want local bandits to be part of t’plan we’d best keep a watch. I’ll take first one if you want to get some sleep, my lord.’
‘Very well. You can wake me at …’ Harry broke off, listening intently. Then he looked at his companion. ‘Do you hear it?’
‘Aye, my lord. Riders, coming this way.’
‘They could be harmless, but keep your rifle handy until we find out.’
Harry scanned the road, staring intently into the gathering twilight. While banditry was rife he would have expected to be further from the city before experiencing any such problems. Most likely the two horsemen were just travellers like themselves.
‘They’re slowing down,’ said Jack. ‘Must’ve smelled t’smoke from our fire.’
‘Probably.’
The horses came into view round a bend in the road. There were only two. Harry let out the breath he had been holding.
‘Not a serious problem, I think.’
‘Aye, they may just ride on, my lord.’
‘Perhaps. Best to be sure though.’
‘As you say.’
However, as they drew nearer the riders turned off the road and approached the camp. Harry frowned.
‘Wait. Do they look familiar to you?’
‘Funny you should say that, my lord. I was just thinking t’same th …’ Jack broke off. Then as the riders reined in his eyes widened. ‘Blood and sand! What in hell’s name are they doing here?’
Being temporarily robbed of speech, Harry vouchsafed no reply. He thought he knew the answer already, and the ramifications were deeply disturbing. Mingled with that was another sensation that he didn’t want to examine too closely.
‘Looks like a mort o’ trouble, my lord.’
Harry found his voice. ‘Indeed.’
As far as he could see, trouble didn’t begin to cover it. Reading his expression correctly, Jack nodded.
‘Best take a firm line wi’ ‘em, I reckon.’
‘Absolutely.’
Harry watched as the two women dismounted and then, grim-faced, went to meet them.
Elena handed her horse’s reins to Concha and, taking a deep breath, watched the advancing figure. When she had plotted the details of their escape from Madrid her imagination had conveniently glossed over this scene. In those hopeful plans Lord Henry was most sympathetic and immediately acceded to her request. Now that the reality was upon her, she felt far less confident. In the first place Lord Henry looked distinctly forbidding, and, in the second, much larger than she remembered. His servant was no weakling either. He would do what his master ordered. She licked dry lips. What if his master decided to take her straight back? What if she had been entirely mistaken in him? Sweat started on the palms of her hands.
Further speculation was impossible because he was in front of her now, every last intimidating inch of him. Under the weight of that penetrating gaze any coherent thought became difficult. It swept her from head to toe, creating a frisson that was only partly to do with fear. Then it returned to her face and remained there. He came straight to the point.
‘You’ve run away.’
‘Yes. I’m sorry to spring this on you, my lord, but I had no choice.’
The grey eyes were steely. ‘To spring what on me, exactly?’
Her heart pounded. ‘Concha and I want to travel with you.’ Seeing his expression she hurried on. ‘We are both accomplished riders, we both know how to take care of ourselves and we’re used to rough living.’
‘I