A Stranger at Castonbury(11)

She glanced back to find Hugh Webster smiling at her. ‘Mrs Moreno, I must talk to you....’

The strange, prickling feeling he always inspired in her shivered down her spine. She was not entirely sure why she disliked the man so much, but she did. She shook her head and said, ‘Not now, Captain Webster. I must go.’

And she looked back to Jamie to see that he had glimpsed her too. He made his way to her side through the crowd, and his handsome face looked so very solemn.

‘You are moving out today?’ she said.

‘I must ride out within the hour,’ he answered. He took her arm and led her around to the line of trees behind the camp, where they had so often walked together before. Grey clouds were gathering on the horizon to block out the sunlight, as if to echo her sudden feeling of dread.

‘But where are you going?’ she asked, holding on to his hand.

‘I am not sure yet. But I will write to you soon, and tell you where to meet me.’ Jamie’s arms suddenly came around her, pulling her close, and she shut her eyes to memorise the way he felt, his scent, everything about him. About this moment. She felt everything rushing in on them, faster than she had expected. Jamie was leaving. And even if—when—he did come back, there would be so much for them to work on, to try and understand.

‘Will you be careful?’ she whispered.

‘Of course. If you will as well.’

Catalina gave a choked laugh. ‘I am not the one hurtling into battle.’

‘We will be together again soon, I promise. You must not worry, no matter what you hear of what is happening.’ Jamie sounded confident, as confident as the smile he gave her, but still Catalina was so unsure.

She nodded and tried to give him a smile in return. ‘Yes, we must. You have promised to show me Castonbury.’

He kissed her hard, as if he couldn’t bear to let her go even as she clung to him.

‘Until we meet again, my Catalina,’ he said with one more kiss. And then he let her go and he was gone.

And Catalina sank to her knees, unable to hold back her tears.





Chapter Three

Jamie stood on the muddy banks of the Bidasoa river and examined its rough currents as the rain that had been threatening to come down all morning now beat at his head. He wiped the drops from his eyes and tried to look across to the other side, but the storm was too thick and grey.

‘What do you think, Señor Hatherton?’ he heard Xavier Sanchez say.

He turned to face the Spaniard, who stood several safer feet back with the horses. Xavier was one of the Spanish agents working for the British government and had been Jamie’s contact on many previous errands. He was usually a brave man, but today his dark eyes were cautious as he peered out at the river from under his sodden hat.

Jamie turned back to the water. His instructions had been clear; he had to get to Toulouse before the regiment and rendezvous with their Spanish contacts. He had to cross the river to do that, just as the rest of the army would soon have to do, and time was of the essence.

And the sooner he finished this job, the sooner he would be able to return to Catalina...and the sooner they could start a real life together.

‘We need to move closer to Toulouse as soon as possible,’ Jamie said. ‘And you must carry word back to camp of an “accident” so we can separate.’

‘But the river, señor...’

‘We are travelling light,’ Jamie said. And he was a strong swimmer from long days on the lake at Castonbury with his siblings. ‘I need to move today. You can follow on later, as we planned.’

Sanchez looked doubtful, but he nodded. ‘I will follow with the horses soon, Señor Hatherton.’

Jamie stripped off his coat and boots and tucked them then into the saddlebags. He carefully waded into the water that rushed up over the banks. It was freezing cold, swollen by the rain, and his legs went numb as the currents swirled around them. When the water reached his waist, he took a breath and dived deep.

The cold closed over him like a thousand knives, but he pushed away the pain and kept swimming. He couldn’t see anything around him, just swirls of grey and brown. He could only push towards where he knew the opposite bank lay. The deception of his accident had suddenly become all too real.

He was moving strongly, the only thought in his mind his goal. Suddenly a strong current jolted him like a blow to the midsection. It caught him and tossed him around, pushing him even as he fought against it. He felt himself being swept inexorably downstream, twisted and turned.