“A couple of home truths,” Julian said. “Long overdue.”
“That'll do it every time,” Gabriel observed placidly, offering the wineskin. “Doesn't like to be told she's wrong. It was the same with the baron… particularly if he was wrong.” He chuckled, turning in his saddle to observe the progress of the mule train behind them. “I suggest we get off the road well before sundown. There's some tricky spots coming up, and I'd not relish a dusk ambush.”
“Those scoundrels you picked look ready for anything.” Julian handed back the skin with a nod of thanks.
“Maybe… but there's no point taking foolish chances.”
“I agree. We'll stop at the next village with a hostelry of some kind.”
“Won't be much, at best,” Gabriel said. “Not in these parts.”
They rode without any sign of Tamsyn for another half hour. Julian tried to conceal his anxiety since Gabriel clearly didn't seem to feel any. He told himself he had every right to lash out at her as severely as he chose. She'd forced him to leave his brigade at the most inopportune juncture. It had been one of the hardest things he'd ever done. Wellington had marched a detachment of men into Badajos and erected a gallows in the central square. Men had been tried for looting and hanged. It had brought the rest of his demoralized army straggling out of the city and back to the camp, where their officers had somehow to put them back together again. It was a dreadful time for a commanding officer to leave his brigade, even in the competent hands of the newly promoted Tim O'Connor ably assisted by the rest of his staff
So Julian had been in a vile temper that morning when they left Elvas and he hadn't missed the opportunity to chastise the cause of his grievance. For some reason though, anger at his exploitation didn't preclude worrying about her safety, and he couldn't deny the surge of relief when she reappeared, cantering toward them.
“There's a pueblo up ahead, about three miles,” she said, offering the fruits of her reconnaissance. “It's not much, but there's stabling for the animals and a stone byre where we could store the goods. It would be hard to mount a surprise attack on it, and it could probably be guarded safely with just two pickets; so if we have several watches, everyone should be able to get a few hours sleep.” She addressed her remarks to Gabriel and avoided the colonel's eye.
“What kind of shelter does it have for the rest of us?” Julian asked neutrally.
Tamsyn shrugged. “The farmer offered his barn and hayloft. It'll be cleaner than his cottage, which was crawling with vermin.”
The colonel nodded. They had their own provisions and needed only shelter from the cold mountain nights. He glanced at her; noting that she was still looking rather crestfallen. It surprised him that she should have taken his harshness so much to heart; it didn't seem to jibe with the manipulative brigand he knew her to be.
However, she deserved whatever treatment he chose to mete out.
“You will oblige me in future by not disappearing in that fashion,” he said shortly.
“I didn't seem to be very welcome here.”
“Do you expect to be?” He stared ahead down the path, his mouth hard. “Thanks to you, I've had to leave my men in the worst possible circumstances.”
Tamsyn nibbled her lip unhappily, then said, “I'll try to make the journey and… and later… pleasant for you.”
Julian shot her a look of total disbelief Her anxious returning gaze was candid and ingenuous. She really didn't understand what she was doing to him? Where had she come from? How could anyone possibly reach adulthood so devoid of a sense of ordinary social responsibility? He took a deep breath and attempted a lesson that he felt was doomed to failure.
“Your compensations, my dear Tamsyn, are certainly pleasant, but that is not the point. You can't manipulate people and events to your own ends and then calmly offer your body and its admittedly manifold charms and expect that to make everything all right.”
“But it's only for six months.”
Total failure! He shook his head and gave up. “There's no point talking about it. I'm stuck with the situation, and I'll do what I contracted to do. If we can get through the next six months with simple civility, I'll consider it a major achievement.”
Tamsyn fell in beside him and rode in thoughtful silence until they reached the village. It seemed obvious to her that six months of the colonel's time… a mere hiatus in his life… wouldn't have a faring effect on his future, whereas in the scheme of her own life, those six months could mean everything. It was obvious to her, but totally lost on the colonel.
The village folk crowded out of their cottages when the procession entered the pueblo, bisected by the mountain path as its single street. Ragged children ran onto the path, shouting and waving, black-clad women stood in doorways, shawls drawn over their mouths and noses, black eyes watchful above. Men appeared in the gateways to small malodorous farmyards where scrawny chickens scratched in the dirt fighting for scraps with grubby goats.
A stream trickled down the mountainside into the middle of the pueblo where a rough dam had been built, forming a deep pool to provide the village's water supply.
Tamsyn hailed a man rather more prosperous looking than the others, standing in the doorway of a relatively substantial cottage. “He's the village elder,” she explained. “It's his barn and byre we can use… for a consideration, of course.”
Gabriel dismounted and went over to him.
“He won't negotiate with me,” Tamsyn explained to the colonel, “because I'm dressed like a woman. If I'd been dressed as a partisan, he would have treated me as an equal.”
Julian merely raised an eyebrow and shrugged.
“At least a riding habit is easier to wear than a dress,” Tamsyn persevered, trying to elicit some conversational response. “I'm wearing britches underneath, so it feels almost normal. But it's still a disadvantage in situations like this.”
“Get used to it,” he advised as he'd done once before, choosing to respond to her light observations as if they were complaints. “Women don't act like men in English society… or not if they wish to be accepted.”
Tamsyn gave up trying to conciliate. “The baron considered Cecile to be his equal in everything,” she said fiercely.
Julian looked politely incredulous. “Then he was a very unusual man.” He swung to the ground and lifted Tamsyn down before she could leap with her usual agility from Cesar's great height. He closed his mind to the feel of her body in his hands, to the scent of her skin, which made his head spin with voluptuous memory.
“Women also allow men to assist them with certain actions, like mounting and dismounting, alighting from carriages, and taking their seats,” he informed her with the air of a conscientious tutor, setting her firmly on her feet.
“Oh, pah!” Tamsyn said disgustedly. “There's nothing the matter with my legs.”
“No, but you must learn to pretend that you go along with the myth of the gentler sex and show that you appreciate the little gentlemanly courtesies.”
Tamsyn's expression was one of acute distaste, and Julian began to enjoy himself “Unless, of course, you'd prefer to forget the whole thing,” he added nonchalantly.
Tamsyn stuck her tongue out at him in a childish gesture that somehow expressed exactly how she felt. The colonel laughed, infuriating her even more, and strolled over to where Gabriel and the farmer were concluding their negotiations. He stood slapping his gloves into the palm of one hand, looking around the village, assessing its strategic advantages.
“If we post pickets at either end of the street, we should be safe from marauders approaching conventionally.”
“Aye, but there's always the way down from above, Gabriel said, glancing up at the mountainside towering above the village. “We'll need to guard the byre itself I'll take the first watch with three of the men. You take the second… if it's all right with you,” he added, almost as an afterthought.