Miss Whittier Makes a List (35 page)

“
I know bett
er than you do!
”
she storm
ed back.
“
The British have their backs to the sea here and no one to depend on but themselves.
”

He pulled her furt
her into the house toward the stairs and gave her another shake for good measure.
“
One
would
t
hink you sympa
thized with those who destroy
our shipping and impress American citizens. I do not want to s
ee
your face again until the ambassador sails for
Holland
, Miss Whittier.
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”

With a sob, she ran up the stairs and into her room, slamming the door behind her.
She sat on the bed a moment to collect her thoughts, then h
urried to the window drapery, where she had hidden the
Bergeron
dispatch in the wide hem. It was still there. She flung open the window, but the Marine was long gone.
“
Drat!
”
she exclaimed and threw herself down on the bed. Somehow she would have to leave
the consulate again in the
morning
, this time with the dispa
tc
h, and take it to the cap
tain
.

She sa
t
up. Perhaps Adam could do it
. She went to the door, and turn
ed the handle, but it was locked. She po
und
ed on the door. No answer.
“
I was better treated by the British!
”
she shouted through the heavy oak paneling.

The house was silent. She went to
the
window again, looked down two fl
oors to the paving stones below,
and sighed. She lay down on
h
er
bed and curled herself into a l
ittle ball.

The m
orning brought breakfast on a tray, delivered
by a tight-lipped servant and followed by A
dam Winslow. The maid set the tr
ay on the table by the bed and Adam lifted the cloth that coveted it. He whistled and rolled his eyes a
t
her.

“
At least it is not bread and water, which I am sure is al
l the consul thinks thee
dese
rves,
”
he
observed as she ru
bbed the sleep from her eyes.
“
Ha
nna
h
, what is the matt
er with thee? I disre
member thee ever behaving like th
is on
Nantucket
.
”

She ignored him, eating her way steadily through the food on the t
font><
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ay, and looking around for more. When she could find none, she went to the drapery and pulled out the
Bergeron
dispa
tch
and slapped it in Adam
’
s hand.

“
We
have to get this to Captain Spark
.
”
she said.

“
I can assure that the consul has no intention of letting thee wander the streets of
Lisbon
again,
”
Adam told her.
“
And don
’
t get those tears in thy eyes and look so stubborn! Hannah, this is
s
till not our fight
”

“
How can thee say that?
”
she replied.
“
There is a traitor in the British gove
rn
ment
.
”

“
What is that to us?
”
he asked baldly, taking her by both hands.
“
Hannah, thee is behaving
like
a school miss.
”

She shook off his grip.
“
Thee will not help me, Adam Winslow?
”
she asked.

“
I will not help thee,
”
he replied.
“
We sail tomorrow morning for
Holland
, and then home.
”
He left the r
o
om then. In another moment, the key turned in the lock.

Her first impulse was to b
ang on the door, and rage and
scream
until her
voice
was raw, but
she
quickly discarded both ideas as unproductive in the extreme. All that remained was the window. She went to it again and opened it
wide, hoping that during the night the house had shrunk two floors and the ground underneath her window was flowerbeds of soft dirt instead opaving stones. Nothing had changed. If
anything, the ground looked fart
her away. This is not fair, she thought, resting her chin on her hands and staring out the window.

She noticed the
narrow
ledge that ran from her window to the next room, which had a balcony, and climbing ivy. It was a ma
tt
er of some twenty feet along the ledge, which was tenanted now with doves, cooing and puffing themselves up and strutting back and forth as though they strolled on a broad highway.

It wasn
’
t a moment that demanded deep thought, she decided as she stuck the dispatch down the front of her dress and climbed onto the window ledge. A moment
’
s thoughtful consideration would only lead to rejection of the plan as dangerous as it was foolhardy. I must seize the moment, she thought as she inched along the ledge, her eyes on the balcony, and not the ground. I must pretend I am in the rigging and not look down. At least the building does not sway. Oh,
the things I have done for thee,
Daniel Spark, she thought as she edged along. She reached for the balcony finally and pulled herself onto it.

Adam Winslow stared back at her from the other side of the glass. With a shake of his head, he opened the door onto the balcony.
“
Thee is certifiable, of course, and I suppose I am, too,
”
was all he said as he straddled the balcony railing and sta
rt
ed down the climbing ivy.
“
I will test it first and then thee should follow. If we are both hanged for aiding and abetting the enemy
,
I will make sure thee swings first so I can have the satisfaction of watching thy neck stretch!
”

He wouldn
’
t speak to her all the way to the hospital, but kept his eyes straight ahead. Not until they entered the sanctuary of All Saints did he make a sound, and then it was a sigh that went a
l
l the way to his toes as he stared at the rows and rows of wounded men from
Wellington
’
s last encounter with Marshals Soult and Ney. He took her hand then.
“
Hannah,
”
was a
l
l he could say as he tugged her closer.

She leaned against his shoulder.
“
Adam, doesn
’
t thee s
e
e? If we can help unmask a traitor in the British government,
perhaps
it wi
even the odds here in
Portugal
and
Spain
.
”

He nodded.
“
And there would not be so many wounded, eh, Hannah? Well, let
’
s get this dispatch to our captain and be done with it.
”

She hurried toward the lady chapel, squinting into the gloom as she saw the pallets of wounded there, each space filled. She frowned. The Marine corporal was nowhere in sight. Her mind filled with disquiet, she tiptoed to the pallet last occupied by her captain. Someone else lay there now.

Captain Spark was gone.

Her first fear was that he had died in the night, but she quickly discarded that notion. Anyone who could kiss like Captain Spark was
firmly
planted on the road to recovery. Her second thought was anger. So you could not wait to leave, she considered as she stared down at the pallet and its sleeping new occupant. This was replaced quickly by despair. They have shipped you out for
London
and a court martial, but I am not there.

With eyes that scarcely saw, she went back into the main chapel. Adam fo
ll
owed her. He touched her
arm
.
“
Is it
Holland
now?
”
he asked quietly.

She gave him a searching look that made him
turn
red and stare at his shoes.
“
Adam, where is thy backbone? We have to get to
England
! That
’
s all there is to it.
”

A brief conversation with the hospital steward confirmed her fear.
“
Oh, my, yes, he was shipped out on last night
’
s tide, miss,
”
the clerk assured her, looking down through bloodshot eyes at his endless list of dead, wounded, and misplaced.
“
Something about a court martial at the Admiralty in two weeks.
”
He chuckled, remembering.
“
Damned ... er, excuse me ... bless me if he wasn
’
t a bit exercised over being so rudely hauled up from his bed of pain. I do believe that was how he put it.
”

“
Then you have considerably cleaned up his conversation for my benefit.
”
she replied,
her voice crisp.
“
Has he sailed?
”

“
Yes, miss. You
’
re too late.
”

She left the building in a rage, to
o
angry to cry over this latest misfortune. She was at the bottom of the stair, fuming, before Adam caught up with her. He grabbed her and sat her down on the bottom step.

“
Hannah
,
thee is not fit for society!
”
he said, his demeanor more commanding than usual.
“
We
’
ll never get anywhere with thee in a total rage
.
”

He was right of course. She leaped to her feet and walked to the broad stone
banister
leading down from the church. She wanted to pound on something, but the only thing there was a
chestnut
horse, its reins looped over the carved marble flowerpot
.
She
turn
ed her face into its shoulder instead an
d cried,
standing there until she felt calm
enough to look at Adam again. Th
e animal was obliging in the extreme, wickering softly at her as she stood there.

“
He
is
a good horse, madam,
”
said a voice behind her.

She whirled around to stare at an elegantly
tall officer with more gold on
his shoulders and sleeves than probably was deposited in the whole U.S. Treasury.
His tanned face was in no way marr
ed by his beaked nose. He loo
ked like a man who could lead arm
ies, and
here sh
e was sobbing into his horse.

“
I am sorry, sir,
”
she managed, and scrubbed her hand across her eyes and backed away from his horse as though she had been attempting its theft.

He shook his head and sm
iled down at her, taking off his lofty hat.
“
Don
’
t worry, my
dear.
I have cried into
Copenhagen
a few times myself, and not so long ago.
”

His words were spoken quietly,
so none of the equally gold-braided men who followed him down the steps could
hear
.
“
May I introduce
Copenhagen
, Miss ... Miss ...
.
”

“
Hannah
Whittier
of
Nantucket
,
”
she said, and held out her hand shyly.

He took it in both his gloved hands.
“
You are a long way from home,
”
he said.

Her eyes teared again at his words and without saying anything else, he whipped out a handsome
monogrammed
handkerchief.
“
Perhaps
I should not have mentioned that, Miss Whittier,
”
he said while she blew her nose.
“
Obviously I don
’
t need to remind you of the miles between this dirty city and what I am sure is
a more pleasant existence. Here,
sit down.
”

He indicated the bottom step again and she sat, her eyes on his face. He dusted off the step and joined her, waving on the officers around him.
“
Gentlemen, find something to occupy yourselves, if you will. Miss
Whittier
, my name is
Wellesley
, Arthur Wellesley.
”

She heard Adam
’
s soft whistle behind her.
“
Mr. Wellesley?
”
she asked.

“
Not precisely. I command this ragtag
ar
my, my dear. I am the Viscount of
Wellington
.
”

“
Oh, my,
”
Hannah said, her eyes wide.
“
I didn
’
t mean to cry all over thy horse!
”

He threw back his head and laughed, and it was the most extraordinary laugh Hannah had ever heard, high-pitched and somewhat horselike itself.
Copenhagen
tossed his mane at the sound as though horse and master shared a conspiracy.

“
My dear, I am sure he will dry,
”
said
Wellington
.
“
Now tell me what is troubling you.
”

Adam tugged at her
ar
m.
“
Hannah, thee cannot bother this gentleman!
”

She shrugged off his hand.
“
Sir, I am perplexed at how difficult it is to do a good deed for the British.
”

Wellington
took off his gloves.
“
I
did not know it was so hard, my dear.
”

“
It
’
s no wonder thee lost the War for
Independence
,
”
she continued steadily, ignoring Adam, who had thrown up his hands and stalked up the steps to sit behind them, his head in his hands.
“
A
ll
I have been t
r
ying to do is help Captain Sir Daniel Spark—do you know him, sir?—get a dispatch from a French ship to
London
, and I am scotched at every
turn.”

Wellington
absorbed this bit of information without a blink.
“
I know the Spark family. Does he not command a commerce raider?
”

“
He did, but it
sa
nk in the harbor on
Terceira
. And now he has been sent to
London
for a court martial, and I still have the dispatch. He needs me, sir.
”

He looked at her.
“
I don
’
t doubt that for a moment, Miss
 
...
Whittier
, did you say? And are you a Quaker, miss?
”

“
I think I am
,
”
she replied, some doubt in her voice,
“
although I have not
been
acting precisely as a Quaker should lately. I mean, I
’
d like to murder the Lords of the Admiralty for being so pigheaded about this court ma
rt
ial. I mean, couldn
’
t it wait?
”

Wellington
laughed again.
“
I am sure you are not alone in your wish to see the First Lords to Hades
,
my dear. Show me the dispatch.
”

She took it from the front of her dress, but did not hold it out to him.
“
S
e
e here, sir, can I trust thee?
”
she asked.

One of the British officers standing close by laughed.
‘
That
’
s enough, Beresford.
”
the viscount m
ur
mured.
“
Obviously this little lady has been through a few trials for this dispatch.
”