Thinking about others helped to distract her from contemplating her own predicament. Her confrontation with Vendome had been truly harrowing. Amalia had never been looked at in such an unashamedly lecherous way. The memory of it was enough to give her a hot flush. She was at the mercy of a man who might have dark designs on her and she was completely vulnerable. Though she was no longer bound and gagged, she was being held in a tent with guards outside. Escape seemed impossible. Against two armed men, she stood no chance. Against the lustful Vendome — should he take advantage of her — she’d have no defence. Amalia had never felt so alone in all her life.
When she heard raised voices outside the tent, she drew back instinctively, afraid that someone was coming to get her. In fact, the guards were not interested in Amalia. They’d taken charge of someone else. The tent flap was opened and an attractive young woman was pushed roughly into the tent. Her hair was tousled, her dress torn and her arms wrapped protectively across her chest. Her large, brown eyes were pools of dread until they noticed Amalia. The newcomer stared at her in surprise.
‘Who are you?’ she asked.
Councils of war with his Dutch allies were often tedious affairs and the Duke of Marlborough approached them without enthusiasm, knowing that any strategy he recommended was likely to be criticised, amended and delayed. On this occasion, however, he found the Dutch generals in a more cooperative mood. This was largely due to the influence of their commander-in-chief, General Overkirk, who could always be relied upon to support Marlborough. When the meeting broke after comparatively short deliberation, Adam Cardonnel was pleased. He watched the last of them leave the tent.
‘Why can’t it be like that every time?’ he asked. ‘Everybody was of the same mind for once.’
‘It makes things so much easier,’ said Marlborough. ‘I was bracing myself for endless arguments over some trivial detail. Yet here we are with the whole matter settled.’
‘Then we need to deal with the correspondence, Your Grace.’
Marlborough grimaced. ‘Must we?’
‘I know we’re both tired but it has to be done.’
‘You’re right, Adam. Grand Pensionary Heinsius will expect an account of the latest developments — not that there’s much to report. Then there are dispatches to be sent to England.’
‘I think that we need to respond to General Vendome first.’
‘Why?’
‘You were too engrossed in the council of war to see the letter that was passed to me. It bears Vendome’s seal.’
‘Then let me see it,’ said Marlborough, taking it from him.
‘I think we both know what it will contain.’
‘You’re right,’ said the other, opening the letter and reading it. ‘An exchange is being offered.’
‘We can have Amalia Janssen in return for Captain Rawson.’
‘Yes, Adam — Daniel warned us that the offer would be made.’
‘What do we do, Your Grace?’
‘Well, we certainly won’t comply with the request.’
‘It’s impossible to do so,’ said Marlborough. ‘Daniel has already left camp.’ After thinking it through, he handed the letter to his secretary. ‘That must be our response,’ he went on. ‘Tell Vendome that we can’t consider his offer because Captain Rawson is unavailable. That will at least buy us some time.’
‘At least we know for certain where Miss Janssen is.’
Marlborough sighed. ‘I just hope that no harm has come to her.’
‘I was tricked,’ said Sophie Prunier, mournfully. ‘One of the officers befriended me and invited me to look at the camp. He was charming until we actually got here. Then I realised my mistake.’
‘What happened?’ asked Amalia.
‘I was taken to see the duc de Vendome.’
‘Yes, I met him as well.’
‘Then you’ll know what a beast the man is,’ Sophie told her. ‘It was he who tore my dress. The handsome young lieutenant who brought me here was acting on his commander’s orders. He had to provide a woman — and it turned out to be me.’
‘That’s disgusting!’
‘I come from a good family. They’d be horrified if they knew that I’d ended up here.’
‘Didn’t you tell them that you were visiting the camp?’
Sophie looked sheepish. ‘No,’ she admitted. ‘My parents are away. They would have objected and I was so pleased to be asked. I’d always wanted to see inside an army camp. How was I to know that it was all a ruse?’
‘The way you were deceived was cruel,’ said Amalia.
Sympathy welled up inside her. The sudden and unheralded arrival of Sophie Prunier had done something remarkable. It had taken Amalia’s mind off her own troubles. Instead, she was caught up in the plight of the Frenchwoman. Though she could not understand every word that Sophie said, there was no mistaking the look of fear on her face or the horror in her voice. Amalia had been abducted as a means of ensnaring Daniel Rawson. Sophie, on the other hand, was being held captive until Vendome chose to send for her. Having been alone with him, Amalia sensed that he’d be ruthless and malevolent.
‘My uncle was once the Mayor of Mons,’ resumed Sophie. ‘When the army passed through, he invited some of the officers to dinner. That’s how I came to meet Lieutenant Bouteron. He was so kind and attentive to me. It’s only now that I realise why.’ Taking out a handkerchief, she used it to wipe away her tears. ‘But I’m so selfish, Amalia,’ she said. ‘All that I can think about are my own troubles. You’re a prisoner as well. Who enticed you here?’
‘I was kidnapped.’
Sophie was startled. ‘That must have been terrifying for you.’
‘It was, Sophie.’
‘What exactly happened?’
‘To be honest, I’m not entirely sure.’
Amalia told her about the incident and about how she’d been smuggled out of the country by her abductors. Since she’d been bound, gagged and blindfolded most of the time, she was never quite sure where they were or how they’d eluded border patrols. The only violence she encountered was during the kidnap. From that point on, Amalia had not been maltreated in any way. It was a concession that helped to make her ordeal bearable.
‘Oh, you poor thing!’ said Sophie, putting a tender arm around her. ‘You’ve suffered far more than I have. I’m only here because of my own stupidity. Against your will, you were dragged here all the way from Amsterdam.’
‘My father will be sick with worry.’
‘I still don’t see why they picked on you, Amalia.’
‘It’s not me they want. They’re trying to capture a friend of mine in the British army. I’m simply a worm on the hook. When he knows where I am, you see, he’ll try to rescue me.’
‘How on earth could your friend do that?’ said Sophie, mystified. ‘Lieutenant Bouteron told me that they have 100,000 soldiers here. No man has a chance against those odds.’
‘No ordinary man, perhaps,’ agreed Amalia, warmed by the thought. ‘But then, Captain Rawson is far from ordinary.’
Shedding his uniform once more, Daniel had put on the coarser attire of a sutler, wearing a wide-brimmed hat that concealed some of his face. He borrowed the wagon that had once belonged to Ralph Higgins. Instead of travelling in a direct line to the French camp, thereby signalling his starting point, he went in a wide arc so that he could reach Braine l’Alleud from the south-west. His route took him past the ruins of the farm where he’d once hidden from a French patrol in a pigsty. The sight of the blackened remains served to stir up his anger at those responsible and to reinforce his determination to hunt them down.
For the moment, however, he had other concerns. Travelling alone through a country ravaged by war was always hazardous. Daniel had a dagger hidden beneath his coat and his sword was within easy reach under the seat. He hoped that he’d have to use neither of the weapons. The first part of the journey was uneventful. He even sold a few items in a village he passed through. It was when he was back out in open country that he encountered trouble. As the road dipped down an incline, a small forest appeared on his left. Out of the trees, moving at a leisurely pace, came two riders. When they got close, they waved their hands in a friendly greeting. Daniel replied with a smile and brought the wagon to a halt.