Lucy Lane and the Lieutenant

He looked at her long and hard for a moment, then he said, ‘The past is a part of everyone, Lucy, and I know I will never be entirely free of my own. But you have my word. A working relationship it will be.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Now you have agreed to co-operate we have much to discuss.’

‘I expect we have. How long do I have before we go to Portugal?’

‘Two weeks at the most.’

Her heart flipped over. She had hoped for more time. ‘As little as that?’

‘I’m afraid so. You can ride?’

‘I can, but I haven’t for a while.’

‘Have you ever fired a pistol?’

She shook her head. ‘Will I have to?’

‘Maybe. I will try to teach you the basics before we leave.’

‘And Aunt Dora? She will be against my going. Provision must be made in—in case something happens to me.’

‘I promise that will all be taken care of before we leave.’

‘I would appreciate that. I’ve already decided to give up this house. Polly can go and live with Aunt Dora. One consolation is that Sarah looks after her as attentively as if she were her own mother. I’m sure she will appreciate another pair of hands to help her care for my aunt.’ She looked at Nathan as a more pressing issue occurred to her. ‘Another thing I feel I must mention is the outstanding bills. I would appreciate it if, perhaps, you could see your way to settling that particular problem.’

‘Leave it with me.’ Now he’d accomplished what he’d set out to achieve there was no time to lose. ‘I’ll leave you now,’ he said, striding to the door. ‘I’ll be back in the morning at eight o’clock. Your training will begin immediately. Get a good night’s sleep. You’re going to need it.’

* * *

As it got closer to the time when Nathan was to arrive, Lucy found she was becoming more and more nervous, which was ridiculous, considering she had been running her own affairs for over four years and making her own decisions. What was happening to her life? It seemed to be spiralling out of control. Everything was happening too fast.

More immediate was the problem of what she was going to wear. She rushed upstairs and surveyed her wardrobe. When she was ready she went down to the parlour and sat at her desk to wait, making a list of all the things she had to take care of before she left for Portugal.

Eventually her mind began to wander and she began thinking about Nathan. She knew he had been in Spain and that he had been wounded. There was so much more she would like to know. Was he married? Had he married Katherine? It seemed likely since she, too, had gone to Spain. But Lucy would not ask. The reason she was doing this was because, for some peculiar reason, only she could help him in his mission to do whatever it was—and because he had left her with no choice. But most of all she was doing it for the money.

But, she asked herself, finding it difficult to be honest with herself, to examine her feelings where Nathan was concerned. Was it solely for the money that she had agreed to go to Portugal with him, or was the temptation to be close to him once more just too hard for her to resist?

For so long she had tried not to think about him, burying her head in the pillows at night to muffle her sobs at the memory of those last loving times she’d had with him before he’d become distant, as if he had other, more important things on his mind. Of late these recollections were so real, so vivid. Like a storm they would not be halted, the crucifying memories crept inexorably back, back to that time when they had first met.

It had been a summer’s evening at a party given by a mutual friend. They’d met often after that and courted openly. She remembered the first time they had made love. Having walked into the countryside, they had lingered in a barn full of sweet-smelling hay and it had been so wonderful when he had kissed her, when he had held her in his arms, desiring her as much as she desired him. All their hitherto cautions and restrained behaviour had been swept away in a tide of wanting and she lost her virginity eagerly.

Hearing a knock on the outside door, giving herself a mental shake she set the pen aside and stood up. Adjusting the elbow-length sleeves and smoothing her skirt with the palms of her hands, she smiled. It was a pretty dress, pink and white sprigged with pretty flounces around the hem and with a modestly low bodice. She felt a nervous anticipation as she waited for Polly to show Nathan in.

He strode into the room, carrying a parcel beneath his arm. He was wearing a tan jacket and white-silk neckcloth, buckskin riding breeches and gleaming brown-leather boots. His dark hair was ruffled and fell over the top of the scar that ran beside his left eye to his cheek. It gave him a sardonic, mocking look when his face was in repose. Only laughter or a smile softened the rigour of the scar.

Despite this he was devilishly attractive to look at. Lucy’s pulse raced. She was unsure as to the cause—her handsome riding instructor or her fear of what was in store. He stopped a couple of yards in front of her, gazing at her with a half smile curling on his lips.

‘Are you ready to begin your training?’

‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’

His eyes passed over her. He shook his head. ‘That won’t do. Here,’ he said, handing her the parcel.

Lucy took it and set it down on the table in front of the sofa. ‘What is it?’

‘Open it.’

Totally bewildered, she did as he asked. Dumbfounded, she stared at the contents, holding them up.

‘You would deck me out in these? But—I can’t possibly. Why, they’re indecent and inappropriate.’

He laughed. ‘You don’t know the difficulty I had getting these made for you. Every tailor thought me mad when I described what I wanted and no one believed that I desired to put them on a woman. I had to pay a goodly sum to have them made.’

Lucy continued to stare at them. ‘But—they’re men’s breeches. I am expected to wear these?’

He nodded, amused at her dismay. ‘Unless you prefer to be constantly tangled up in skirts. You must have worn breeches in some of your roles on stage.’

‘I have—but that was different. I was playing a part.’ Frowning, she continued to inspect the breeches. ‘I doubt they’re my size.’

‘I have a good memory, Lucy.’

She flushed, lowering her gaze so she didn’t have to see the knowing look in his eyes. ‘Four years is a long time. I’ve put on weight.’

‘In all the right places if my eyesight is to be believed. I assure you I had these made with all good intentions in mind. Do not fear that I’m making sport of you. You will find it easier and more comfortable to ride a horse wearing breeches. It’s more practical. As a woman you will attract attention—some of it unwelcome. For your own safety, it will be better if those we meet think you are a male to begin with.’

‘You’ll be telling me to cut off my hair next.’ When he didn’t say anything she glanced at him sharply. ‘You want me to cut my hair?’

He grinned. ‘You have beautiful hair, but you will not be as conspicuous with short hair. It’s—practical. It will soon grow.’

Lucy didn’t relish the idea of cropping her most prized asset, but perhaps he was right. She would attract less attention and it would be less trouble. ‘Very well. I’ll have Polly cut it before we leave.’ Shaking her head, she glanced dubiously at the breeches once more. ‘I’m becoming more confused by the hour. These breeches look awfully tight. I really don’t think they’re my size.’

‘They’ll do for the time being. Go and put them on. We’re wasting time. I want to assess your horsemanship and you cannot sit astride a horse in that dress—pretty though it is.’

Without further argument, Lucy left with the offending garments.

Feeling terribly self-conscious, she reappeared ten minutes later. The breeches, which disappeared into riding boots, were skin tight, showing off her long and perfectly shaped legs, the short jacket cut so high to reveal her attractive round derrière. Nathan admired the sight with glowing eyes, before cocking an eyebrow and ushering her outside.

* * *

The coach carried them north out of town and approached a pair of tall iron gates. A gatekeeper stepped out of the keeper’s cottage and after Nathan had spoken to the man they were permitted to pass. They swept along a curving drive with extensive lawns to the right and left of them. Lucy’s eyes became fixed on a large imposing house that appeared against a backdrop of sweeping parkland, rising to a height of three storeys. Evidently it was the property of a man of some consequence.

‘What a beautiful house,’ she murmured, unable to tear her eyes away from the twinkling expanse of mullioned windows. ‘Who does it belong to?’

‘A relative of mine. My uncle. He’s away in foreign parts at present.’

‘Is he a spy, as well?’

‘No,’ Nathan replied, helping her out of the coach. ‘He’s a gentleman. Come along. I’ll introduce you to your mount. We’ll ride out so you can get used to being back in the saddle. Tomorrow you will receive instruction on how to use a firearm—something small that is adaptable to a woman’s hand. You will have to learn how to use a dagger. I pray you never have to use either weapon, but it’s as well to be prepared for every eventuality.’

The stables were at the back of the house, a dozen stalls set around the stable yard. Most of them were occupied. Grooms and stable boys were going about their daily chores. Nathan was familiar to them and they greeted him in a friendly enough fashion. One of the grooms approached them, leading a chestnut mare.

‘Come and make friends. Her name is Jess and she’s as docile as the proverbial lamb.’

Lucy loved her. It was good to be back on a horse, to ride across the vast green acres of parkland. However, not having had the opportunity to ride for a long time, she was soon stiff. Nathan informed her she sat like a sack of potatoes and held the reins all wrong. She told him to take a flying leap and said she was going home. He told her she’d leave over his dead body. She said it was not a bad idea.

A look of sorely strained patience crossed his face as he caught her by the waist and lifted her down from the saddle after one particularly gruelling session. ‘God help me if I ever injure my back,’ he quipped.

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