Fortune's Bride Part 22

Esmeralda should have saved her tears. What she had seen and endured thus far was child's play to what was to come. For some reason unknown even to his closest a.s.sociates, Sir John decided that forced marches were necessary. Since the draft animals were already on short rations-because it was impossible to obtain fodder in the barren, snow-covered country through which they were pa.s.sing-they began to drop in their tracks from exhaustion. As soon as an animal failed, it was shot, partly to keep it out of the hands of the French. Half the time Esmeralda rode with her eyes closed to escape seeing the pathetic corpses.

But soon there were more pathetic ones. The women and children who had been riding on the baggage wagons were the next to go. Inadequately clad and shod, some clung to their refuges until they froze to death. Others tried to follow the army, only to drop by the wayside, victims of fatigue and cold. One day-later Esmeralda calculated that it had been the afternoon of January 5, but at the time she had no idea of the date-she saw a woman fall near the top of a rise they were just beginning to ascend. More than half an hour later, when they pa.s.sed that spot, she was still there. Esmeralda told M'Guire to see if a short rest, riding instead of walking, would help her.

For her, it was too late. She had probably actually died on her feet, still struggling onward. M'Guire brought the reason for her struggle to Esmeralda with tears freezing on his cheeks.

"'Twas tryin' to suck, mistress," he said, choking, "an' her colder'n clay."

"Oh my G.o.d," Esmeralda whimpered, taking the infant and wrapping it in her furred cloak. "G.o.d have mercy on us all."

They did their best, although they dared not stop for more than a minute or two at a time. They had no milk or bread, of course, but Carlos cut a hunk of flesh from a still-quivering ox, and they pressed the blood into snow that Esmeralda melted by holding a tin cup between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. To this they added sugar, and Esmeralda dribbled the mixture into the baby's mouth, but its breathing was already very bad, and it died a few hours later while they were still struggling along the road. M'Guire did his best to bury it when the company of Guards stopped for a half hour of rest, digging through the snow to the frozen earth with his bayonet, The grave was very shallow, but at least the little corpse was not exposed to the carrion eaters.

They had not plumbed the depths of horror yet. Just before the dusk, Molly's mule failed. It had been the weakest of the three animals, but all of them looked at Boa Viagem and Luisa and saw that they, too, were nearing the end of their strength. M'Guire shot the mule, and they went forward, all on foot now, even Esmeralda. An hour later Carlos collapsed. Esmeralda dropped beside him with a cry of despair, but he had only fainted.

When roused, Carlos denied emphatically that he was sick, and this seemed true, for Esmeralda could feel no sign of fever, but she could not be content, and continued to question him until he confessed that he was nearly starving. He had been giving all his food, except the meat, which she would not eat, to Luisa. Her tears over the mother and baby barely dried, Esmeralda wept anew. What fodder they had was doled out unevenly, the larger portion to Boa Viagem. No one had questioned the division, not even Carlos, for it was known that mules were hardier than horses and could stand deprivation better. The only thing Esmeralda had forgotten was Carlos's devotion to Luisa and the effect on him the shooting of the draft animals would have.

"How stupid I am." Esmeralda sobbed. "Why should Luisa carry what we no longer need? M'Guire, get the packs off her. We can discard the dishes and the water bottles and most of the pots. Everything but the food, the blankets, and Captain Moreton's clothes can go."

Molly had sunk to the ground, her face gray and her breathing labored, but she began to push herself to her feet to help M'Guire, whose hands were clumsy with cold. Esmeralda shook her head and went to help him herself. She did not mind the work at all, but she was worried by Molly's quiescence. It was not like her to allow Esmeralda to work while she sat. Perhaps Molly, too, was nearing the end of her endurance.

They had just about finished piling everything that could possibly be discarded by the side of the road when a sergeant of the company with which they traveled came plodding back.

"Ye must move on, ma'am," he said. "I'm sore sorry, but ye must not stop to rest now. If yer servants canna keep up, they must stay."

"No, no," Esmeralda replied, "we are coming. I only stopped to lighten the load on the mule."

They repacked in frantic haste, the sergeant standing by and watching. It seemed to Esmeralda that if she had said Carlos or Molly could go no farther, the man might have forced her on without them. Carlos was no problem. With so much baggage discarded, he could ride Luisa until his strength was a little restored, but Molly... Esmeralda glanced at her fearfully from the corner of her eye and tears started to trickle down her face again. But all through the night, somehow, with little rests riding on Boa Viagem and Luisa, Molly managed to keep up. It was already faintly light when she moaned through gritted teeth and said, "Oi must stop. Oi'm sorry, ma'am. Ye've done yer best, but ye must leave me now."

Esmeralda, placing one foot in front of the other like a puppet without conscious volition, stopped and turned to look at her. Esmeralda was not crying anymore, not because there were no tears left but because her mind was so numb. There is a point beyond which horrors cannot be absorbed, and the scenes they had pa.s.sed, unable to help, had equaled and outdone the dead mother and child left behind. Even the Guardsmen were failing now, steady old soldiers falling out, some of them literally dropping dead on their feet.

"Put her up on Boa," she said dully.

It was not a good time for it, as she had dismounted only ten minutes before when the mare had stopped and stood trembling, obviously near foundering. Esmeralda had pulled Boa forward, and the horse had managed to walk with no weight on her, but she was still shaking and swaying. Luisa was in little better condition and was already carrying Carlos, who had fallen again and was obviously incapable of walking.

"'Tis not thit," Molly gasped. "'Tis th' baby comin'."

"No!" Esmeralda cried, jerked out of her numbness by a more personal horror. "Not here! Not now!"

But Molly had sunk to her knees and did not answer. M'Guire knelt beside her, tears running down his face. Wildly, Esmeralda stared around, but all she saw were splotches of dirty red on the clean white snow, marking the places where men lay exhausted, dying, or dead. There could be no help for them in this desolation, yet these were her people. Somehow she must find something, but she was so tired herself that she did not know for what to look. And a rising sense of horror and despair was making her even less capable because, no matter how dreadful the things were that she had seen and heard up to this point, she did not know the people who lay dead or too exhausted to move, slowly freezing. This was different. This was Molly. Could she even think of leaving Molly to bear her child in the freezing snow, to die with the infant in her arms?

The horror of that thought made Esmeralda's mind whirl. She would not willingly leave Molly, no, but she might be forced away. The Guards had their orders. Mrs. Moreton was to be brought safely to Corunna. As long as she kept up, no one questioned how, but if she dropped out someone would come seeking her. She had already been told she would not be permitted to wait for her servants, and she was sure that if she said her horse had failed, another would be found for her even if one of the officers had to walk. Molly groaned again, and M'Guire put his arms around her, crying, "Whut'll I do for ye?"

Again Esmeralda's eyes searched the landscape. The panic in M'Guire's voice was catching, and desperation focused her previously unseeing eyes. Down the slope, not far from the road, were the remains of a small house. Hide. The word came with sensible meaning. They could conceal themselves in the house until Molly's baby was born. Esmeralda was sorry for the anxiety she would cause the officers responsible for her, but that was insignificant compared with Molly being left behind.

"Can you carry her, M'Guire?" Esmeralda asked. "Look, down there, the house. I'll help if I can-"

But M'Guire had already picked up Molly and was staggering toward the haven Esmeralda had indicated. She followed, dragging Boa Viagem, fearing each step would be M'Guire's last. Although he was the strongest of them, he was also the only one who had walked every foot of the way. And he had put out the most effort of any of them, for in addition to walking, he had lifted each of the others on and off the horse and mule innumerable times.

He just barely made it, sinking exhausted on the doorstep, but with Esmeralda's help, Molly managed the few steps through the gaping doorway into the interior. The marauders had been there before them. Not a stick of furniture nor a door remained. Even the floorboards had been ripped up in some places, whether for firewood or in search of hidden valuables, Esmeralda did not know or care. She only noticed because the floor sagged crazily so that she and Molly nearly fell.

Having managed to ease Molly down without disaster, Esmeralda ran out again. M'Guire was lying where he had dropped, sobbing with effort and fear, for he loved his wife. Seeing his helplessness, Esmeralda hesitated, panic rising in her again. She pressed her hands to her mouth, trembling on the edge of collapse herself, but was saved by the sight of Carlos staggering toward her with his arms full of blankets, topped with a small white package-the baby linen.

The whirling world steadied. With the blankets to keep her warm, perhaps Molly and the baby would live. They were not starved. Molly would have milk. Hope renewed Esmeralda's strength, and she ran forward and seized the blankets and bundle from Carlos.

"Take Luisa and Boa around to the back where they cannot be seen from the road," she said to Carlos. "Then, if you can, help M'Guire inside-but it is more important that you keep yourself and the animals out of sight."

She did not take the time to explain. The need to hide Luisa and Boa Viagem was obvious. They might be seized by stragglers or even by legitimate authority to draw supply carts, not that they really would be of much use, owing to their condition. In any case, their presence would draw unwelcome attention to the house, and Carlos might even be recognized by a Guards officer searching for Esmeralda. M'Guire lying on the doorstep was less important. So many men littered the roadside that another body, seemingly collapsed seeking shelter, would hardly be noticed.

As she made her way past M'Guire into the house again, a new fear shook Esmeralda. Aside from helping her onto the blankets, she had not the faintest idea of what to do for Molly. But as it turned out, she had no time to do even what she intended. As she entered the room, Molly screamed, "Take the baby! Take it! 'Tis out!"

Esmeralda dropped everything and threw herself forward onto her knees. Molly had turned up her skirts, under which she was naked, and between her wide-spread thighs Esmeralda saw a tiny black head and narrow shoulders. Before she could think, her hands had gone out to support the little body. Even as she grasped it, the rest of it slithered out as Molly gave one last push, gasping with pain and effort and relief. For a moment, Esmeralda simply knelt where she was, paralyzed between wonder and terror and not knowing what to do, for the baby was still attached to its mother by a long slippery cord.

"Turn 't over," Molly whispered. "Turn 't over, head doon, 'n give 't a slap."

Fortunately Esmeralda was so numb that she obeyed. She was far too afraid of dropping the slippery little creature to think of much else, and it was just as well she was concentrating so hard on holding it, for she might have dropped it in disgust when it gagged up a mess of slime or in astonishment when after that it suddenly let out a l.u.s.ty squall.

"'Tis aloive," Molly breathed.

"Oh, it certainly is," Esmeralda a.s.sured her. "It's squirming like anything."

"Lay 't on me belly," Molly instructed, her voice growing stronger, 'nd pull me skirts over 't. Then ye'll need t' find a knife t' cut th' cord."

With mingled relief and regret, Esmeralda placed the baby as Molly had instructed and rose to her feet. It was a horribly ugly creature, red and wrinkled, with spidery limbs and a misshapen head, but it pulled at Esmeralda's heartstrings nonetheless. She felt dazed, and repeated to herself, "A knife. A knife," until the words suddenly took on meaning. "A knife," she said aloud, frightened again. "Where will I find a knife? We left all the cutlery by the road."

"For what do you want a knife, senhora?" Carlos asked in a trembling voice, staring at Esmeralda's hands.

"To cut the cord of Molly's baby," she said, smiling for the first time since they had begun this nightmare trek. "Don't be frightened by the blood, Carlos. Molly and the little boy are both alive."

"Thank G.o.d! Oh, thank G.o.d," came M'Guire's voice from behind her. "G.o.d bless ye, mistress, G.o.d bless ye. For whut ye done this day, I'll die for ye, so I will, I swear it."

"I would prefer it if you would stay alive for me, and for Molly, too," Esmeralda replied, still smiling, but even as she was speaking, a frown replaced the smile. "Do you have a knife?" she asked anxiously. "I think it is very important to cut the cord."

M'Guire shook his head and started to struggle to his feet. "Me bayonet-" he began, but Carlos was already holding out his knife.

Esmeralda took it almost reluctantly, alarmed again about being responsible for something which, if done wrong, would have dire consequences, she was sure. However, on returning to Molly, she found that the cord no longer trailed inside the new mother. There was a horrible mess on the floor to which it was attached. Esmeralda recoiled.

"'Tis th' afterbearing," Molly said. She sounded almost normal and had recovered sufficient strength to push herself a little distance from the worst soiled part of the floor. "Ye need not touch it. Jist pick up th' cord 'n cut it. Now toy a knot in it. Thin turn th' little un over 'n toy anither close 's iver ye can t' his belly. Whin ye're sure that's toight 'n sound, cut th' cord agin not far from it. Soon 's Oi cin find a bit o' silk threat, Oi'll toy 't off closer."

The instructions were easier to give than to follow. Esmeralda found tying knots in the resilient, slimy cord no easy thing, and cutting it, even with Carlos's sharp knife, was not simple, either. The baby, who had quieted when placed on Molly's belly, began to squall again when Esmeralda handled him. Nonetheless, she could not help smiling once more as she struggled to follow Molly's directions. There was something very wonderful about the arrival of the new little creature in the world, despite the mess that surrounded it.

Molly had fallen asleep with the baby at her breast the moment Esmeralda handed him to her when she finished cutting the cord. For a minute or two, Esmeralda stood looking at her, knowing she should try to rouse her so that they would not fall too far behind and become stragglers themselves. But she could not find the strength. Her last reserves had been expended in acting as midwife. Orders or no orders, she could go no farther. She dragged two blankets over Molly, wrapped another around herself, and sank down into a blessed unconsciousness. Her last thought was that she would probably freeze to death, like the pathetic women and children they had seen, but she no longer cared.

Fortunately, despite his temporary collapse, M'Guire was not as exhausted as his wife or Esmeralda. He moved both women together and wrapped them up, brought Luisa and Boa Viagem into the house to add the heat of their bodies, and took up the broken floorboards with which he made a fire. Then he and Carlos huddled together under the remaining blanket, but M'Guire propped himself against the wall so that discomfort roused him as soon as the worst of his exhaustion had pa.s.sed.

It was late afternoon when he woke and shook the others awake. By then they were far behind their escort. Esmeralda should have been in despair, but the enforced rest had done her good, and she was able to think. The rear guard, she knew, was a full day behind the main body of the army. Thus, they were in no danger from the French until the rear guard pa.s.sed. The worst danger they would have to face were the renegades from their own army, but that might be reduced by attaching themselves to any company that was marching in reasonably good order. She handed Carlos his portion of food and sent him out to watch for such a group and in the meantime, suggested that M'Guire make another fire. They would eat and give all the remaining fodder to the animals.

"Wherever we are going cannot be far," she said. "Even Sir John cannot expect men to march for much more than twenty-four hours without rest."

This conclusion, reached more out of hope than out of reason, was quite correct. Before M'Guire had got his fire going, Carlos came running back to tell Esmeralda that he had seen a file of men in good order just coming over the rise. There was little to pack. M'Guire lifted Molly to Luisa's back, Esmeralda mounted Boa Viagem, and they came out to the side of the road and waited. When the company was close, Esmeralda rode forward and explained who she was and what had happened. The captain was courteous, but not enthusiastic. If they could keep up, he said, he would do his best for them.

Had any of them known how close they were to Lugo, where Sir John had halted the army, Esmeralda would not have bothered to wait for a company in good order and the captain would have been warmly welcoming in the hope of making a friend in high places. Still, they were all satisfied with the outcome when they arrived about an hour later. One more unpleasant task lay before Esmeralda-reporting herself to Colonel Wheatley. However, he was so glad to see her alive and well that his strictures on her foolishness were minimal.

Relieved of immediate problems and shrinking from any contemplation of the horrors she had seen, Esmeralda's mind reverted to its lodestar. Now she grieved at having parted from Robert in anger. She knew, wryly, that he probably had not realized she was angry, but she had a vague feeling that his hesitation before he left had been a silent appeal that she had not answered. She was worried about him, too, although she had no idea that he had been in great danger. From the vagueness of his answer when she had asked where he would be, she a.s.sumed that he was detailed to do observation or possibly act as liaison with the Spanish.

She knew, too, that it was pointless to ask for information about Robert at headquarters. Major Colborne was doubtless aware of where she had been quartered, or could find out, and Esmeralda trusted him to send her any news he had. Thus, to occupy her mind and also to accustom herself to an experience she expected to have, she offered to bathe Molly's little son that evening. The fire had warmed the room reasonably well, and she took the infant on her lap, dipped a cloth into a bowl of warm water, and started to uncover the child.

Esmeralda was aware, of course, of the impropriety of becoming involved too personally with servants, but she and Molly had been through too much together to worry about that. Thus, she did not hesitate to ask a question that handling the baby had brought to her mind. As she exposed one and then another small portion of the infant and cleaned it, she said, "Is it always so quick, Molly?"

"Quick?" Molly repeated, looking up from the supper she was preparing.

"The birthing," Esmeralda explained. "It could not have been fifteen or twenty minutes between the time you told us the baby was coming and when it was born."

Molly laughed. "No, ma'am, 'twasn't so quick as 't seemed. Th' pains started whin th' mule fell, but loight they were, 'n Oi kept hopin' they'd stop, as sometoimes happens, or thit we'd git where we was goin' before 't came."

Esmeralda's eyes were round with astonishment. "You mean you walked all night-while you were in labor? Oh, Molly, I'm sorry I didn't notice. I was-" Suddenly the horrors she had deliberately excluded from her mind surfaced. "All those people," she whispered, "the soldiers, the women-" Unconsciously, she wrapped the linen protectively around the infant in her lap and caught him up in her arms. "The children." A sob caught her voice. "The poor little children..."

"'Tis no use thinkin' o' thit," Molly said sharply. "'Twas noon o' yoor doin' nor o' moine. 'Nd walkin's good fer birthin'." Then her lips tightened. "But from whut wuz we runnin'? We niver saw iny inimy. Oh, as Oi have th' hope o' hivin, so Oi hope thit th' giniral rode up 'n doon th' road 'nd saw whut we saw- 'Nd Oi hope he roides thit road feriver in h.e.l.l, seein' those babe's froze 'nd th' little 'uns limpin', leavin' b.l.o.o.d.y tracks 'n th' snow." Her voice began to shake, and she stopped abruptly.

There was nothing Esmeralda could say. She liked Sir John, who had been very kind to her personally, and up until now Robert respected his military ability, but she had seen too much to utter plat.i.tudes about necessity.

"Oi big yer pardon, ma'am," Molly said softly. "'Tisn't me place t' say sich things t' ye, but 't would've bin me lyin' there if no fer ye."

"And if not for you," Esmeralda said, forcing a smile, "I would be very frightened and very ignorant about many things I need to know. And I would not have had the pleasure of meeting-good gracious, Molly, have you decided what to call him?"

"Kivin, 'tis his father's name." Molly turned from the fire and smiled as the infant, who had been making little whimpering sounds despite Esmeralda's rocking him in her arms, began to squall loudly again. She held out one arm for him while she bared a breast, then sat down and offered it to the blindly seeking mouth. The babe suckled eagerly, strongly, and Molly smiled again. "He's strong," she said. Then the smile faded and her eyes shadowed. "Whoile ye were wit th' colonel, we had 'im baptized-jist...jist in case."

"Nothing will happen to Kevin," Esmeralda said firmly. "Colonel Wheatley told me that we will be here for several days. We have plenty of food now, and blankets, and Luisa and Boa will be rested. We will-"

Her voice cut off, and her breath drew in sharply as a fist pounded on the door and a voice called, "Are these Mrs. Moreton's quarters?"

Chapter Thirty.

"Robert!" Esmeralda shrieked, leaping up and rus.h.i.+ng to the door, "Robert, is that you?"

The door flung open, and they fell into each other's arms, Robert saying thickly, "Oh, Merry, Merry, I never meant you to suffer so. I never meant you to see-"

While Esmeralda, not paying the slightest attention, cried, "Oh, you're safe, you're safe. You must be so tired-"

The disjointed e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns went on for a little while until Robert said, "Merry, I love you. I love you so. I've tried to find a sensible way of telling you, but there's no time."

Both statements shocked Esmeralda into silence. She stood staring up into Robert's face, her big eyes wide, incapable of any reply because joy and despair were struggling so violently inside her. She had been given the crowning perfection of her life in one phrase and what amounted, in her opinion, to a death sentence in the next. Robert loved her. It was more than she had ever dreamed, but if there was no time and they must continue the march that night, she really did not expect that any of them would survive.

"It's all right, my dear," Robert said, pulling her tight against him. "I know I've probably shocked you. I always seem to burst out with things that should be introduced slowly and carefully. I don't expect you to be in love with me this moment-"

Molly had done the best she could by moving into a dark corner and turning her back. She knew she should not be present, witnessing this nakedly emotional moment, but there was nowhere for her to go except out into the stable shed at the back. Had she been alone, she would have slipped out gladly, but she would not take her infant into the cold unless she were actually ordered to do so.

She had also tried not to hear, but it was impossible. Thus, though she did her best to concentrate on suckling her baby, Robert's ringing declaration of love forced itself on her. She missed the end of the sentence, spoken more softly, but she also heard his last statement, which was so silly that a hiccup of laughter escaped her before she could stifle it.

The sound checked Robert's speech, and he turned affronted eyes in its direction. "It must be the baby," Esmeralda said quickly. "Molly had a baby, a little son, early this morning."

Robert stared at her, forgetting in his amazement even the delicate matter of his pa.s.sion and Esmeralda's reaction to it. "How? Where? A baby! You mean she...er...produced a baby! On the road!"

Desperately Esmeralda bit her lips. This was no time to laugh. "Come upstairs, Robert," she gabbled. "Molly must watch the supper. I am sure you must be starved as well as soaking wet. I have your clothes. Do come up."

He followed docilely, still too stunned to protest, and as soon as they were in the loft room, Esmeralda ensured further silence by throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him, murmuring when their lips finally parted, "Oh, Robert, I do love you. I have always loved you."

"Have you?" he asked delightedly. "That's what Colborne said, but I thought you would have too much sense to love a fool like me."

Rendered speechless again by another violent urge to laugh simultaneous with a desire to weep over Robert's modesty, Esmeralda bent her head and pressed her face against his chest.

He kissed the top of her head, and then said, "I don't think you ought to stand with your nose buried in my coat. I can't imagine how I smell, I'm too used to it, but it must be awful."

That remark released Esmeralda's pent-up mirth, and she kissed him again. "I cannot believe I smell any better. We can only heat water in very small quant.i.ties because I discarded all the large pots to lighten Luisa's..." Her voice faded, as reference to the deadly trek they had just finished reminded her that Robert had said there was no time.

Robert's arms went around her protectively. "I'm sorry," he murmured, "I'm sorry, my love. I could kill myself for being so stupidly selfish, for keeping you with me at such a cost. You must hate me for exposing you to-"

"I will never hate you for anything, Robert, never, but..." Tears rose in her eyes. "Must we go on tonight? Must we really? Is there no way-?"

"Tonight! Of course not. Whatever put that into your head?"

"You said there was no time."

He touched her face, running an index finger along the hollow that had not been in her cheek when they left Salamanca. "I meant there was no time for me to court you, to show what I feel instead of just saying it. But I do love you, Merry. You've become the center of my whole life. I hope you don't mind if the flowers and pretty things come after the declaration rather than before. I swear you won't be cheated of them."

Esmeralda laughed again. "I never cared for that and never will. I can-"

She stopped. She had been about to say she could buy all the pretty things she wanted, but realized that this was still not the right time to mention that she was very, very rich. Robert had had enough shocks for one day. He must be even more physically exhausted than she was-he certainly looked it. And to confess about the money right after he said he loved her would make it sound as if she had been deliberately concealing the information all this time out of lack of trust.

"But that's all nonsense," she went on hurriedly. "How long can you stay? Can you eat with me? Will you have time to sleep for a while?"

Robert had been looking slightly puzzled. He felt there was something more to that aborted "I can-" that Merry's quick change of subject was a cover over something she was hiding. He was about to revert to the words, more interested in those than in inessentials like eating, but her last question diverted him. A slow smile curved his lips.

"I am a bit short on sleep," he admitted, "but that isn't what I want time in bed for."

"There isn't any bed," Esmeralda murmured, burying her face in his coat again.

She felt ridiculously shy, far more like a virgin bride on her wedding night than an experienced married woman. Robert's confession of love had somehow made a tremendous difference. He held her against him, feeling her tremble, and then lifted her face and kissed her very gently.

"No, and it's cold, and we're both filthy and tired," he said. "I want you very much, but not this way, my darling, not in a dirty huddle where we can't even take off our clothes."

"Oh, Robert-" she began to protest.

He put his fingers gently over her lips. "No. I'm sending you on ahead of the army tomorrow, Merry. I don't often pull rank and influence, but I've done it. It's less than sixty miles to Corunna, and I've got a carriage and horses-"