Soldier of Fortune

'Why is that, sir?'

'It seems that they were solely responsible for winning the battle. At least, that is the story that the Margrave of Baden is putting about and I, for one, find it downright insulting.'

'It's downright false!' said Daniel with feeling. 'We had already weakened the enemy considerably before the Austrians even joined the fray. Our cannon had spread chaos among the French on top of the hill and we'd accounted for dozens of the Bavarians behind the lower ramparts. Let's give credit where it's due.'

'Let's give credit where it's due,' repeated Marlborough with emphasis. 'You're our linguist, Daniel. We'll have to get you to translate that into German so that Adam can write it down and offer it to our ally, the Margrave of Baden, as a motto.' His smile was replaced by a frown. 'This battle is in the past now and we must look to the future. Towns ahead of us will already have been told that we are on the way and will be working hard to improve their defences. There will be sieges ahead.'

'Then we need heavier cannon, Your Grace,' said Daniel. 'We'll face stronger fortifications than the Schellenberg offered us. The guns we captured are no bigger than our own. What we require is a proper siege train.'

'It would have been too onerous to drag it all this way.'

'And it would have slowed us right down,' said Cardonnel.

'Besides which,' added Marlborough, 'we had assurances from Emperor Leopold that he would provide us with heavy artillery.'

'Does he still intend to do so, Your Grace?' asked Daniel.

'I sincerely hope so.'

'We've saved his capital for him. The French had every intention of marching on Vienna and driving him out. The least that the Emperor can do is to supply us with what we need.'

'I've made that point explicitly in all my despatches to him.'

Cardonnel was waspish. 'Let us hope that he puts more trust in your despatches, Your Grace, than in those from his commander-in-chief. You may be fortunate to get a mention in the latter.'

'History will judge me more fairly than Baden has done.'

'The miracle is that he agreed to attack,' said Daniel. 'Look at his military record, Your Grace. He's a master of defence. That's how he built his reputation — by sitting behind trenches and ramparts while the enemy fell to his musket fire. Mounting an attack is a new experience for him and the novelty of it has gone to his head.'

'I think you're being too kind to him,' said Cardonnel.

'Those who fought in the battle know who won it, sir.'

'That's all that matters to me,' said Marlborough. 'But let's turn to a less contentious topic, shall we?' he continued. 'I thought you'd like to know that I've made arrangements for Abigail Piper's return.'

'Thank you, Your Grace,' said Daniel. 'It's very kind of you to find time for something so trivial when you have far weightier matters on your mind.'

'I'd never regard a daughter of Sir Nicholas Piper as trivial.'

'The word was perhaps ill-chosen.'

'Given the effect you appear to have had on the family, it would not have been surprising if both sisters had been impelled to follow you across the North Sea.'

'One is more than enough, Your Grace,' said Daniel, grimacing.

'Two would have been a case of gilding the lily.'

'That's not quite how I would have put it.'

Marlborough laughed. 'No, I'm sure.'

'When will Abigail leave?' 'Tomorrow.'

'That was quick, Your Grace.'

'I'm sending a small detachment back to Holland. Abigail and her maid can travel with them. We need have no qualms about safety.'

'I shall make a point of seeing her before she goes.'

'And so will I,' said Marlborough cheerfully. 'She's a delightful young lady who would decorate any assembly but she is hopelessly out of place on a military campaign. I'd not wish this experience on any daughter of mine, I know that. Yes,' he decided, 'I fancy that Abigail will be very happy to depart.'

Edward Marston

Soldier of Fortune

Emily Greene burst out laughing and clapped her hands in gratitude.

'We really are leaving tomorrow?' she said.

'I had it from the Duke himself.'

'That's wonderful news!'

'There'll be some packing to do,' said Abigail.

'Everything is already packed. I've been hoping for this moment.'

'Has it been such a trial for you, Emily?'

'Yes,' said the other, 'but I've tried not to show it. I feel like a fish out of water, Miss Abigail. It's been awful.' She gave a hollow laugh. 'I've learnt one thing — I could never marry a soldier.'

'You prefer to save yourself for a sailor,' taunted Abigail.

'That would be even worse!'

They were still laughing when a man's voice interrupted them.

'Miss Piper?' he called from outside the tent. 'Is that you?' 'Who is it?' she asked.

'I have a message from Captain Rawson for you.'

'Then let's hear it.'

Abigail ducked out of the tent to be met by Charles Catto with an innocuous smile. Noting the bandage around his head, she felt immediate sympathy.

'Were you wounded in the battle?'

'Yes, Miss Piper,' he replied, 'but I came off lightly. My name is Private Curtis and I have the supreme honour to serve in His Grace, Duke of Marlborough's regiment, the 24 ^th Foot.'

'And you've brought a message from Captain Rawson?'

'He sends his compliments and asks if you would be kind enough to join him for a while.'

'I'd be glad to,' she said, a hand going to her hair as the breeze teased at it. 'Excuse me for a few moments.'

'Take as much time as you wish, Miss Piper.'

Abigail went back into the tent and reached for a mirror. Having heard the invitation, Emily wanted her to look at her best for the visit. She brushed Abigail's hair then burrowed in a satchel to find a bottle of her mistress's favourite perfume. Emily made several small adjustments to Abigail's dress before she was satisfied. It was minutes before preparations were complete. When she stepped out of the tent, Abigail found her escort waiting patiently.

'I'm sorry to be so long,' she said.

'There's no hurry, Miss Piper.'

'What exactly did Captain Rawson say?'

'That he was anxious to speak with you.' Catto extended an arm to indicate the way. 'Come with me, if you will.'

'Thank you.'

They walked on in silence. Abigail was so pleased at the invitation that she placed complete trust in the man who had brought it to her. It was a long walk but she was untroubled by that. It gave her time to rehearse what she was going to say to Daniel.

Eventually, they reached the tent where Catto had spent the night. He pulled back the flap and gestured for her to enter. Expecting to see Daniel Rawson, Emily went in with a broad smile of her face. It soon vanished. The only things there were piles of assorted supplies. Before she could say a word, she felt hand covering her mouth to prevent her screaming. Charles Catto put the barrel of a pistol against her temple. His voice was low and caressing.

'I'm so glad to be alone with you at last, Miss Piper,' he said, inhaling her perfume. 'Captain Rawson is delayed at the moment but I'm confident that he'll be joining us in due course.'

CHAPTER TWELVE

Abigail Piper was petrified. The pistol was only resting gently against her temple but it seemed to be burrowing into her skull. Her whole head felt as if it were on fire. Charles Catto removed his hand from her mouth but, even without the threat of death, she would have been unable to speak. Her mouth was dry, her heart racing and her brain numb. She had been taken in completely by the man's appearance and polite manner. The promise of a meeting with Daniel Rawson had been dangled in front of her and she had never questioned it for a second. She squirmed as she recalled how gullible she had been. In entering the tent so willingly with a stranger, she had stepped into a nightmare.