Somehow Esmeralda managed to convince Sir John that, to a woman raised in India, the hardship endured by an officer's wife, particularly the wife of a staff officer, was minimal and that there was no need to feel uneasy about her comfort or safety. He found her so easy and delightful a companion, so eager a listener on any aspect of military life he felt suitable for discussion with a woman, that it became a custom for her to pour tea for his "family" of aides and other invited guests every evening she and Robert did not have another invitation.

Esmeralda could only hope that Robert would notice her popularity without perceiving the reasons for it, and her hopes were fulfilled. In fact, she very nearly played her game too well. Although he could not point a finger of blame at anything she did or said, Robert became so uneasy that he thought of sending her to England to remove her from the ardent attentions of his fellow officers. However, before he acted on the idea, it occurred to him that there would be many more men with even more insinuating manners in England and that he would not be there to recall Esmeralda's attention to himself. What was worse yet, he remembered that she had told him she had a competence to live on. She would not be dependent on his parents and therefore could not be controlled. It would be much better to keep her with him where he could keep an eye on her.

At this point Robert was struck by the oddity of his thoughts. Why should he feel it necessary to "keep an eye" on Merry, and why should he object to the attentions paid her? Did he feel she would dishonor him? Every instinct recoiled from such a notion, but Robert forced himself to examine her behavior objectively. His conclusion was that there was not a hint of any impropriety. In fact, now that he considered the matter he realized that Merry was careful never to be alone with any man other than himself. Then why should he care? What was troubling him? He felt a fool and resolved that, in fairness, there was nothing he could complain about to her. But he could not shake off his unhappiness.

Had the situation in Portugal been more satisfactory, Esmeralda might have attributed Robert's evident unevenness of temper to her activities. However, she was too convinced of her own lack of attractions and Robert's basic indifference to her. Thus, since he said nothing, even when he could not get a single dance with her or escort her to supper, she put his crossness down to his fury over the lack of progress in military operations. Moreover, there was good practical cause for Esmeralda's mistake. In his need to express his anger and confusion and at the same time avoid attacking Esmeralda, Robert spent all their time alone complaining about Dalrymple's political stupidity and military inertia.

Robert's complaints were justified. Despite the known intentions of the British government to send the army to the a.s.sistance of the Spanish rebels, Dalrymple had failed to inst.i.tute any of the basic moves toward forwarding this purpose. He had made no effort to survey the roads and discover the best routes by which to move the army to Spain, nor had he made any arrangements to supply the troops with food, clothing, or even powder and shot as they moved inland where the navy could not land stores from England. He had, in fact, paid so little attention to the army that discipline had been neglected and troops were away from their companies, drunk, sick, and disorderly. Instead he had dabbled in Portuguese politics, offending the junta until they complained hysterically to London.

Thus, when Dalrymple's bubble burst and he and Sir Harry Burrard were angrily summoned home to answer for promulgating the Convention of Cintra, a totally unprepared army was thrown into Sir John Moore's hands. From that moment Robert's complaints stopped, which only reinforced Esmeralda's despairing opinion that Robert either had not noticed the attentions other men paid her or had not cared. Certainly he gave no sign of jealousy.

With the dispatches Moore had received on October 6, giving him the command of the army had been orders to make up for Dalrymple's delays. When Esmeralda raised her brows at this statement, Robert admitted that was not what the orders said, but what they meant. In any case, Sir John was to get the army into Spain immediately, before winter made any campaign impossible. The first necessity, of course, was to restore discipline and determine how much of an army they actually had. Sir John was a hard worker, rising before dawn to write letters and reports and to make plans. His ADCs were kept on the run from sunup, sometimes until late into the night.

Within a week, Moore had the reorganization of the army well underway and turned his attention to how to move and supply it. Since Robert spoke Portuguese, he was logically one of those chosen to interview people to discover what roads would be best and where the countryside was most likely to provide food for the troops. However, all Robert discovered was that the Portuguese in Lisbon were totally, ignorant of the geography and agriculture of their own country.

This seemed so unlikely at first that Robert wondered whether it was his shaky command of the language that was causing misunderstandings. The doubt produced what Robert considered a brilliant idea. He asked permission from Sir John to use Esmeralda as a translator, since she was more fluent in Portuguese than he.

Ever since he had written to his parents, Robert had been living in dread of receiving a reply that demanded Merry be sent home. It had occurred to him that, if she were useful to British interests in Portugal, he would have a legitimate reason to delay her departure. In addition, Robert knew that Esmeralda had a fine patriotic fervor and was sincerely devoted to the welfare of the army. She would be delighted to be of use, as she had been that time she had translated for him about the use of boats in Porto Novo. Perhaps she would be sufficiently devoted to her task to overcome what he believed to be her disappointment at his transfer and protracted stay in Portugal.

In addition, Merry's work as a translator would mean they would be together much more. Busy as he had been, they had hardly seen each other since Sir John's appointment as commander. To Robert's mind, anything that forwarded the successful prosecution of the war was of greater importance than the inclinations and pleasures of any person.

Thus, although he was aware of his ulterior motives, Robert's conscience twinged only slightly.

Although Esmeralda's help did not really produce any better results than Robert had obtained on his own-the Portuguese were ignorant of the roads and available supplies in their countryside-she was so thrilled by being employed in a useful capacity that his remaining guilt was a.s.suaged. Moreover, he found her infinitely capable in many other ways. He discovered that she had a remarkably good head for business, far better than his. She could keep accounts and would certainly have made a better commissariat officer than those presently employed by the British army. Sir John, learning of Esmeralda's expanding activities, was at first slightly shocked, however, her enthusiasm disarmed him and prevented him from reprimanding Robert, and he very soon became accustomed to, and even depended on, her efficiency.

Thus, at the end of October, when the army began to move, it took very little to convince Sir John not to oppose Esmeralda's stated intention of traveling with them.

To Robert's surprise, he had received no answer to his letter home. At first he had felt only relief, a.s.suming that its arrival had been delayed and that he would have a reply in good time. Then, between the fact that he was busy and that Esmeralda seemed so content, he had almost forgotten having written. Finally it occurred to him that either his parents were showing their displeasure by refusing to answer him, or, what Robert preferred to believe, his letter had somehow been lost.

In either case, he was in a quandary. He could write again, giving a fuller explanation that would absolve Merry of anything other than misfortune, but it was really too late for an answer to his second letter to arrive before they moved. And without a direct invitation from his parents, Merry would be afraid to go alone to England. Perhaps since he did not speak Spanish or have any particular knowledge of Spain, it was his duty to ask for leave from Sir John to take his wife to safety, but Robert did not want to miss the campaign, and from day to day he delayed his request for leave.

Before Robert had come to a decision, Esmeralda had taken matters out of his hands. Quite casually on the day after the first units of the army had marched east, as if the question of whether she would be accompanying Sir John and his staff had long been settled, she had asked Sir John whether it would be necessary for her to hire servants or whether she could continue to use M'Guire and his wife. The phrasing of the question, implying as it did complete familiarity with an army on the move, did not invite expostulation on the difficulties and discomforts of the journey, and a few more exchanges settled everything. One man more or less in a unit could make little difference. Sir John wrote a request that M'Guire be detached to act as Robert's batman, and Esmeralda's continued presence became an accepted fact.

As the army struggled toward Spain, there were so many difficulties that the presence of a woman who made none sank into insignificance. Because of the insufficiency of the roads and supplies, Sir John was forced to divide his forces and send General Hope with five brigades of artillery and four regiments of infantry the long way around by Elvas to Badajoz and Espinar and so eventually to Salamanca, where Sir John and the remainder of the army would, hopefully, be waiting. Meanwhile, the British government had dispatched another fifteen thousand men under the command of Sir David Baird. These troops were to be put ash.o.r.e at Corunna and would move south through Galicia also to rendezvous with Moore at Salamanca.

It was all very easy on paper. However, the contract to provision the troops was not honored and the Portuguese outside of Lisbon refused to take either British government promissory notes or even paper money in exchange for supplies. This put a serious strain on the British army's exchequer and nearly wiped out the fund of gold and silver coins with which Robert had provided himself. Still, the march through Portugal was not too difficult. For Esmeralda in particular it was actually pleasant. She suffered none of the doubts and uncertainties that had plagued her when she first accompanied the army. She knew how to find her quarters and how to make them comfortable most efficiently. Carlos, Molly, and M'Guire knew their duties and worked well as a team. There was a good deal of rain and cold, but Robert had had the foresight to buy her a very warm fur-lined cloak, and a broad hat and oiled silk overgarment kept her reasonably dry.

There was only one worry that prevented Esmeralda's contentment from being complete. Robert was not quite as happy as she. He was not overtly bad tempered or miserable, but there seemed to be a cloud over his sunny nature. Esmeralda tried to explain it away by attributing it to the difficulties in provisioning the army and news from Spain, all of which was bad. The junta of Corunna was totally uncooperative about a.s.sisting the British in any way. Unfortunately, Esmeralda could not convince herself that Robert's trouble really had anything to do with his duties. Too often there was doubt in his eyes or a frown on his brow when he was looking at her and did not know she was watching him.

Actually, Robert was more puzzled than unhappy, but he was not accustomed to feeling any doubts about life. From childhood he had been sure of what he wanted to do and the right way to do it. Now his relationship with Esmeralda was making him uncomfortable. At first it had been right. He had done his duty to succor a distressed British gentlewoman, and Merry had responded in a sensible way. But since then everything had become very complicated.

Why in the world had he permitted her to come? Two words from him to Sir John would have prevented her accompanying them, but he had said nothing. Why? Well, he knew the answer to that. He had wanted Merry to be with him. But why? He had never felt that kind of need for any person before in his life. When he had gone to school and later into the army, he had missed his family, but he had never manufactured reasons to keep them near. Over and over Robert raised the same questions and found no answer, until the afternoon of November 13 when they had reached Salamanca.

Directly after arriving at his headquarters, Sir John had written a long letter to Sir William Bentinck in Madrid, who was acting as minister from the British Court. He had described the difficulties facing the British forces and, under the circ.u.mstances, the impossibility of their achieving what the Spaniards seemed to expect of them. Then, worn out with worry as well as work, he had dismissed all but two of his staff and had lain down to s.n.a.t.c.h a few hours' sleep. Robert and Major Colborne were thus alone in the staff room.

Having finished his copy of Moore's letter, Colborne sighed. "It's d.a.m.ned unfair," he said. "Every time they give Sir John a command, it's already a lost cause."

Robert shook his head. "I hope they shoot Burrard and Dalrymple."

"What, shoot the white-haired boys of the Horse Guards? The absolute proof that seniority is the one and only qualification for command? No, they won't do that," Colborne retorted sardonically.

"Besides, Sir Arthur is involved, and he doesn't deserve to be blackened. He should never have signed that thing."

"He was ordered to sign it," Robert pointed out. "Anyway, once the opportunity of catching Junot while he was trying to control a rout was lost, getting the French out by convention was really best."

"Not with the provisions agreed to," Colborne said dryly, to which Robert shrugged. "Besides," he went on, "the Convention has nothing to do with our troubles right now. It's the d.a.m.ned Spaniards. For them, everything can be done manana. They want us to push ourselves between them and the French, but they won't supply us with food or transport, or tell us where the h.e.l.l they are or what they plan to do."

Robert shrugged again. "I've told Sir John he can't trust a word they say. It's not only stupid, it's dangerous to lie to a military ally. The Portuguese are sometimes d.a.m.ned ignorant, but they mostly mean well and they'll tell you they don't know. The Spanish are liars-well, not the people-it's the government."

"But we've got to have information about what's going on in the country..." Colborne let the words fade out. Robert knew what he was about to say as well as he did.

He rose a little stiffly, for they had been riding all morning, and moved to a more comfortable chair near the fire. A rather discouraged silence remained. Both men were very fond of Sir John and could see that he would be blamed if the army were defeated and forced to retreat. The Tory government, which disliked him on principle because he was a Whig, would not be willing to admit that they had been led down the garden path by Spanish lies. It would be politically expedient to make Sir John the scapegoat. Worse yet, he knew it, and it was draining his confidence.

After a few minutes Colborne yawned. Naturally, Robert echoed. They were both tired, too. Colborne blinked his eyes exaggeratedly and screwed up his face, then yawned again. If it had been night, he would have allowed himself to drowse in the chair, however, since it was afternoon and they had only just arrived, there was a good chance that messages or visitors would appear despite their having gone through a formal welcoming. It would not do, Colborne thought, to have the Spanish discover only two sleeping men in Sir John's office.

"How does Mrs. Moreton like your quarters?" he asked Robert, more for something to say to keep them awake than for any other reason. To his surprise, a black frown spread over Robert's face. "If she is not comfortable, I am sure we could find something better for her," Colborne added anxiously. "We are likely to be here for some time, a week or two, at least."

"Oh, Merry never makes a fuss," Robert replied, but the frown only grew more marked.

Colborne looked at him uneasily and said tentatively, "You are very fortunate to have found a wife like Mrs. Moreton. She is a woman of the greatest intelligence and easiest temper and has been of considerable a.s.sistance to me." Then he smiled and, trying to lift Robert's spirits, said, "I wish I had met her first."

"Apparently so does every man in the British army," Robert riposted sourly.

"Good G.o.d," Colborne exclaimed, "you can't think Mrs. Moreton has ever given the slightest-"

"No, no," Robert interrupted. "Merry's good as gold."

There was a pause, and Colborne finally said, "We've known each other a long time, Moreton. I don't want to intrude, but if there's anything I can do to help..."

"G.o.d d.a.m.n it!" Robert exploded. "How can I ask for help when I don't know what's wrong?"

But the very word "wrong" had been an admission, a confession of uneasiness and discomfort he had not openly avowed before now. The quiet intimacy of the situation and the knowledge of Colborne's complete trustworthiness were also inducements to the unburdening of Robert's heart. Before he knew what he was about to do, he had confessed the whole story, not only the actual events but his feelings and his confusion about the relationship.

Somewhere about the middle of the tale, Colborne had risen to his feet and walked over to lean on the mantelpiece and stare into the fire. When he moved, Robert hesitated, wondering if he was exposing overly personal matters and causing Colborne discomfort, but he needed desperately to talk to someone, and a single, rather m.u.f.fled word of encouragement started him off again. He found himself able to talk even more freely now that his friend's eyes were not on his face and was grateful, believing, because he wanted to believe, that that had been Colborne's intention in moving away.

In fact, although Colborne would gladly have spared Robert any embarra.s.sment, he had not been considering his comfort. He was thinking only of hiding his own expression because he was trying hard not to laugh.

Like all of Robert's friends, he was familiar with Robert's struggle to avoid female entanglements. A young man who does not wish to be loved obviously is not likely to fancy himself in love. Moreover, Robert's single-minded preoccupation with military matters had precluded interest in novels describing the tender pa.s.sions and the effects of love. All in all, Robert was totally ignorant of the subject. Having married as he did, without desire or even thinking of Esmeralda as other than "a distressed citizen", it had simply not occurred to him that he had fallen in love with her.

"So you see," Robert concluded, his voice both angry and exhausted, "I'm behaving in a completely irrational way. I can't imagine what's wrong with me."

"Nothing much," Colborne remarked after a little silence indicated that Robert had no more to say. "You're in love with your wife, that's all." His voice was quivering with suppressed mirth, but fortunately Robert was so stunned by this p.r.o.nouncement that he did not notice.

"But she isn't even pretty!" he exclaimed, voicing the only idea he had ever had about love, which was that it was engendered by feminine beauty. Then he added doubtfully, "Is she?"

It was too much for Colborne, who gasped and choked, "Not beautiful, perhaps, but very attractive and charming."

"Are you laughing at me?" Robert asked, standing up abruptly.

"I am very sorry," Colborne exclaimed. "I a.s.sure you I do not find your...er...problems amusing. It is only your...ah..."

But fortunately Robert was not attending to Colborne's rather lame excuses. Although he had been offended and had reacted automatically, that was a minor matter in comparison with a revelation that grew momentarily more astounding. He was not really as ignorant about love as Colborne thought. No man can avoid the effusions of his friends on the subject, whether or not he is interested. Robert simply had never a.s.sociated all the things he had been told with himself. However, stripped of the flowery language, which Robert still found embarra.s.sing, what they had said about a desire to be with, talk to, possess their beloveds applied very well to him and explained his reactions accurately.

"By G.o.d," Robert burst out, cutting across Colborne's flounderings, "you're right! I'm in love with Merry!" And then, to Colborne's great relief, he burst out laughing himself and sank back down into the chair from which he had jumped. "How ridiculous not to have known it," he went on, still chuckling, "but with one thing and another I've been so busy and had so much on my mind, and she grew on me slowly-"

"For G.o.d's sake!" Colborne gasped, struggling against renewed mirth, for though a man may laugh at himself he does not like to have others do so. "Will you please stop talking as if Mrs. Moreton is some kind of loathsome disease? I understand that because of the reasons for your marriage you would naturally avoid thinking of her in a romantic light, and that might become a habit. And G.o.d knows we've got enough to keep our minds busy with a chance of French reinforcements advancing and the Spaniards disappearing like smoke in the wind. It's not really so very odd that you should misunderstand a personal problem, but the expressions you use and the look on your face are comical, Moreton."

"Then laugh," Robert said, but he was frowning again.

"Now what's the matter?" Colborne asked, returning to the chair he had vacated and not laughing although he was still amused.

"Since you know so much, tell me how to get Merry to love me," Robert snapped.

"Don't be a fool," Colborne replied. "She must love you. I've never seen a girl that wouldn't follow you around like a dog if you so much as blinked an eye."

"Oh, yes," Robert snarled, "all the brainless little ninnies fresh out of the schoolroom. Merry's not a fool. You just pointed out that a pretty face isn't everything, and it's d.a.m.ned near all I've got."

"Don't underestimate yourself, Moreton. You aren't a fool either-"

"Yes, I am," Robert interrupted, "about everything but the army. And don't tell me I'm an earl's son and I have an easy competence with which to support a wife. I don't want to hear the reasons why a woman would marry. I know them, and they don't necessarily include love. And I know that Merry will never cheat on me, that she'll be loyal and agreeable, the best wife any man could ever have. But I want her to love me..."

"Why the devil do you think she doesn't love you?" Colborne asked, rather exasperated by Robert's doubts, considering his appearance and his advantages.

"She's too...too calm," Robert answered in a rather depressed voice, and went on to describe Esmeralda's seeming indifference to his going into action and to whether or not he spent his time with her.

"Well, she's a sensible woman," Colborne said, "and from the beginning she has known your profession."

But there was now a note of uncertainty in his voice. It did seem odd that a young woman in love should accept with so little protest the constant necessity of dining alone and, what was more, be so casual about the danger into which her husband was going.

"That's what I said," Robert rejoined, a little bitterly. "She's a sensible woman. What would she see in me?"

"Come, come, now you are talking nonsense," Colborne remonstrated, "and indulging, if you will forgive me for saying so, in self-pity." He hesitated, frowned, and then said, "You know, Moreton, I still think you are mistaken and that your wife does love you, but if she has resisted, does it not occur to you that it might be for her own protection?"

"Her own protection?" Robert echoed. "What the devil does that mean?"

"Simply that Mrs. Moreton is no less aware than you of the circ.u.mstances under which you married and...er...under which the marriage changed from one of convenience, to be dissolved as soon as possible, to a permanent arrangement. Might she not feel that you do not love her and might...er...give your affection elsewhere in the future? Under those circ.u.mstances, she would spare herself a great deal of pain if her own heart were not engaged."

"You mean Merry might expect me to be unfaithful to her?" Robert asked.

"Will you stop sounding like an idiot!" Colborne exclaimed, exasperated again. "You've got more brains than you want to admit. Use them. You married her out of pity. You consummated the marriage when you were drunk. You then did the honorable thing and offered permanence. What is there in that to imply more than a dutiful arrangement? Have you ever told her you loved her?"

"I must have," Robert said, but the truth was that he could not remember doing so. "After all, we-" He stopped abruptly as an officer entered to report that the first regiments were entering Salamanca, and after that, he and Major Colborne were too busy to resume the discussion.

Neither really wished to do so anyway. What had been said had sprung naturally from the time and place and their own fatigue, which had stripped away their usual defenses. Now Colborne could only thank G.o.d that he had not mortally offended Robert by his interference and his levity-although he still burst out laughing each time he thought of Robert's amazement at discovering he was in love with his wife, but he did that in privacy. And Robert, who had stopped short just as he had been about to describe the frequency and intensity of his lovemaking, realized that that would, indeed, have been going too far.

Chapter Twenty-Five.

Robert was relieved when Major Colborne showed no inclination to return to the subject of his relationship with Merry. He did not believe he needed any more advice. Once the initial shock of feeling an absolute fool was over, he began to perceive the reasons for his blindness and to understand them. Understanding brought relief. He no longer felt such an insensitive a.s.s, and he was able to apply his brains to the realities of the situation.

His first instinct was to rush to their quarters and tell Merry about the revelation that had come to him. He now thought it very possible that Colborne had been right and Merry had been guarding her heart against future hurt. Robert was well aware of the frequency with which husbands found women more to their taste than those they had married for money or family. Thus, if he told Merry he loved her, she would surely drop her defenses and love him. However, an ADC could not leave until dismissed, and once Sir John woke, Robert was fully employed until it was time to dress for dinner.

Naturally, since most of his employment required physical rather than mental activity, Robert continued to think of his own affairs while he carried out his superior officer's orders. It soon occurred to him that to make the announcement he had been considering would be more likely to induce contempt than love in Merry. What would she think of a man who did not even know when he was in love? And with his own wife, at that. Even Colborne had laughed despite the fact that he understood that Robert had more important things on his mind than love. And to say that to Merry was impossible. It would more likely make her very angry than make her love him. Robert did not know much about women, but he knew that the majority of them regarded love as the most important thing in life.

This conclusion left him momentarily discouraged, but once Robert started to use his brains, they worked very well. Besides, he soon found a military a.n.a.logy to help him. If you can't take a place by a.s.sault and it is imperative that you take it, you besiege it. Since it was too dangerous simply to tell Merry he already loved her and win her by shock tactics, he could show her he was falling in love with her and break down her resistance.

Robert was satisfied with this decision because it not only provided for all eventualities but also because he could foresee a period of relative inactivity during which he would have leisure to court his wife. Once the divisions that had accompanied Sir John were settled-a matter of a few days, he thought-there would be about a week or ten days more to wait for Hope's and Baird's contingents. During that time, he could ask for a few days' leave and devote himself completely to Merry. The idea was extremely pleasant, but when he began to plan how to court her, he realized he had a new problem.

Although he'd never used them in the past, Robert did know the correct moves. In addition to a distinguishing attention, one made little gifts, flowers, for example, at first, then trinkets like a pretty brooch or jeweled hair combs. But this was not London, where he could order nosegays. Nor could he purchase jewels. There might be a jeweler or two in Salamanca, but Robert doubted they would be willing to give him credit or take English paper money in exchange for gold and gems.

Now Robert blamed himself for accepting Merry's filled ball cards so tamely. As her husband, he had a right to as many dances as he wanted. In fact, if there were to be another ball, he would be sure to write his name across the whole card at once. That would be a clear way to demonstrate his feelings. However, there were not likely to be any more b.a.l.l.s.

Sir John, although sweeter tempered than Sir Arthur, was not gregarious in the same way. Sir John was more p.r.o.ne to excellent dinners in a select male company, followed by good talk over fine wine. In any case, Sir John was scarcely in the mood for b.a.l.l.s. Thus, Robert was puzzled as to just how to go about showing Merry what he felt, but it was a pleasant subject to ponder. Moreover, Merry seemed even more than usually cheerful and content, so he was not impatient about getting on with his wooing-after all, he was not being denied the physical pleasures that accrued to an accepted lover. But those physical pleasures proved to Robert that he must, indeed, make an effort. Alert now to more than Merry's overt pleasure, he discovered that among all her sighs and little cries there was no word of love, at least not while he was in a condition to listen. However, it was just as well that he was able to contain his eagerness to win Merry's love without real anguish because the military situation did not resolve itself as quickly as Robert had expected.

First, General Anstruther misunderstood his orders and detained some of the troops at Almeida. Then, General Baird, who had finally managed to get the head of his columns as far as Astorga, received the unpleasant news that there was no Spanish army between his mere nine thousand men and the tens of thousands of French under Soult and Lefebvre. To continue his march toward Salamanca would bring him right across the front of the French forces. Baird sent word of his situation to Moore and halted at Astorga, preparing to retreat to Corunna if Soult or Lefebvre moved in his direction.

Then, in the middle of the night of November 15, Sir John was wakened with an urgent message from General Pignatelli, the governor of the province. His hasty letter informed Sir John that the French army had entered Valladolid. Worse yet, Pignatelli had fled the province, leaving the people without leadership or even authority to resist the French. Nor could Sir John obtain any intelligence about the numbers or positions of the French in the vicinity.

Under the circ.u.mstances, Sir John felt he had no recourse but to warn the junta of Salamanca that if the French pushed forward, he would be forced to retreat to Ciudad Rodrigo. However, Sir John's staff and general officers protested these plans hotly. Encouraged by this support, Sir John sent out the senior members of his staff-Robert among them-with strong patrols to try to obtain some reliable information.

The result of these investigations set to rest the immediate alarm. It was not a French army that had entered Valladolid but only one corps of Lefebvre's hussars, and they had withdrawn to Palencia the very next day. This fact did not really diminish the seriousness of the situation, nonetheless, Moore sent orders to Hope to hurry forward if he could do so without danger and instructed Baird to a.s.semble all his troops at Astorga while an attempt was made to find out more surely where the French were and what they intended.

By November 23 all the troops directly under Moore's command were a.s.sembled in and around Salamanca, Hope's men were moving with all the speed they could make, and Sir John had written to Baird to urge him also to combine forces at Salamanca. At the moment, there was little for the staff to do but run errands, and the weather suddenly turned clear and unseasonably warm. On the morning of the twenty-fourth Robert asked for five days' leave. Not only was his request granted but, to his surprise, he was told he had better start that very day.

Robert had been racking his brains for a method of courtship that did not require b.a.l.l.s to show distinguishing attention-or gifts to show the attentions were serious. He had once or twice found a free hour to spend with his wife and tried to change his ordinary manner to one that he considered romantic. But when he sighed, Merry had disconcertingly looked up from the accounts she was doing and asked what disaster had now befallen them; and when he had managed to catch her in an infrequent idle moment-actually she was mending his socks-and attempted to look soulful, she had made him laugh by asking whether she was undone somewhere.

It was also very difficult, Robert found, to be romantic when he expected a knock on the door at any moment to call him to duty and where the small apartment that had been a.s.signed to them was full of military paraphernalia, which somehow made him feel silly and a little guilty when he tried to act like a lover. These minor irritations brought to his mind the fact that, aside from the few days on the road from Oporto to Figueira, he and Merry had never really been alone. There had always been the pressure of his duties and the casual interruptions of his fellow ADCs.

Suddenly Robert realized that what he needed to do was to go back to the beginning. The ideal situation in which to court Merry was one that would recall their first meeting, but this time he would display his admiration for her instead of treating her like a scarcely endurable burden. On his leave, they could stay in country inns, where he and Merry would have only each other for company and entertainment. They could picnic by the roadside as they did before, except that now he would not be exhausted by his responsibilities. So when he was told he could go, he rushed back to their quarters and asked Esmeralda if she would like to spend five days exploring the attractive mountain areas not far to the south of Salamanca.

"Oh, yes," Esmeralda cried. "I didn't think any country could be as dull as the plains in India, but really this part of Spain is."

"And do you think we could just forget the army for a while and pretend we're ordinary people doing a tour?" Robert asked.

This question astonished Esmeralda so much that she was incapable of replying to it aside from stammering a simple yes.

It was inconceivable to Esmeralda that Robert should deliberately put aside military concerns, and her amazement held her immovable for a little while after he advised her to provide a picnic lunch and pack only a few changes of clothing because they would be staying at very simple places. She racked her brains for a reason, but nothing logical came to mind, and she was forced back to her old device of enjoying while she could whatever came. Nor, after they were mounted, could she determine anything from Robert's manner when she asked where they were going.

"I don't know," he said lightly. "There aren't any French to the west or south, so we can take any road in those directions. Aside from Ciudad Rodrigo and Bejar, there's nothing but villages on the order of small, smaller, and minuscule. Maybe they aren't even large enough to have an inn, but I think Tamames might. Anyway, any big farm will give us supper and a bed, although there might be more than straw in the mattress."

Esmeralda laughed dutifully, acknowledging that the fleas in Spain were just as lively as those in Portugal. "As long as we don't go to Ciudad Rodrigo," she said. "It seems a shame to waste our time on a place we've already seen."