The Soldier's Rebel Lover

‘I don’t think I could.’

He put his arm around her. ‘Try.’

She did because he wanted her to, without any expectation of success.

* * *

When she opened her eyes it was daylight, and the smell of coffee brewing on the trivet greeted her. Finlay, astonishingly clean-shaven, his hair damp, handed her a tin mug. ‘I have some good news,’ he said.

‘Let me guess, there has been an uprising in Pamplona and all the soldiers in the area have been recalled to suppress it.’

‘Now, that would be remarkably good news,’ he said, sitting down beside her and stretching his long legs out in front of him. ‘Mine isn’t quite in that category. How are you feeling?’

‘You let me sleep for the whole night.’

‘What little was left of it.’

Noticing that there was only one cup of coffee, Isabella handed Finlay the mug. ‘We can share,’ she said, when he looked as if he would refuse.

‘Thank you.’

He took a sip and handed it back. She took a sip, putting her mouth where his had been. He was watching her. She took another sip. His hand lingered on hers when she handed the mug back. His eyes lingered on her mouth. Her breath caught. Finlay sipped, placing his lips exactly where hers had been. Her heart bumped. She leaned towards him. He leaned towards her. He handed her the mug. His lips brushed hers. He tasted of coffee. She felt the sharp intake of his breath. He kissed her, slowly, his tongue licking along the inside of her lower lip. Then he handed her the mug. ‘You finish it.’

At least he did not walk away, or head off to tend to the horses. Isabella finished the coffee. ‘You haven’t told me the good news.’

‘I recognise this place. I’ve been here before, during the campaign. There’s a mountain pass we can follow, well away from the main routes, that will take us towards Vitoria, and from there we can head to San Sebastian.’

‘Vitoria. It was a very bloody battle for the English—British, I think.’

Finlay grimaced. ‘I confess, it’s not a place I’ve any yearning to see again.’

‘You have seen such terrible things. That day, when you opened my eyes to reality, when you told me what they would do to me if they caught me...’

‘I’m sorry I had to do that.’

‘I know you are,’ Isabella said, setting down the mug and touching his hand. ‘I know what it cost you to speak as you did, and I am very grateful. If you had been less blunt, I would have been less convinced. How do you do it, Finlay? How is it that you seem so—so divorced from what you have seen, what you have had to do? You are not a savage. You have a conscience, stronger than most, I think.’

‘If you’re talking about guilt, I have plenty of it.’ He frowned down at the dying fire. ‘You don’t think of it, not when you’re on active service. You think only of the next manoeuvre, the next battle. You can’t afford to look back. That way can lie madness—and I mean that.’ He glanced up at her, his eyes dark. ‘You must have heard something of what our men did after Burgos. Some of the atrocities. I was there in the aftermath, Isabella. There was no stopping them. The lust for blood, it wasn’t just revenge, it went deeper than that. It was as if some of them—it was as if they were possessed by an evil spirit. I sound like your Inquisition, but it’s the only way of describing it.’

‘Though, you never took part in such things,’ Isabella said. It was not a question. She was absolutely certain of it.

Finlay shook his head. ‘No, but my men did. I carry some of the blame.’

‘No!’

‘I was their commanding officer. I seem to remember you saying some such thing with regard to Estebe.’

‘I will always have that guilt as part of me. Is that what you mean?’

‘I won’t lie to you, that’s what I mean.’

‘Finlay, one of the things I like so much about you is that you don’t lie to me. Not even when you want to.’ She touched his hand again, and this time he turned it around to clasp her fingers. ‘You treat me as if I have a mind of my own.’

‘A very decided one,’ he said.

She smiled softly. ‘Like the Jock Upstart, I do not take kindly to being given orders. We are very alike in that way.’

‘Who’d have thought it?’ He raised her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss onto her palm, allowing his mouth to linger for a moment, warm on her skin. ‘We must go. We’ve a few days yet before we reach the coast, and the path is treacherous so we need to make the most of the daylight.’

* * *

They travelled all day, leading the horses over the roughest terrain, making slow but steady progress north. It was hard going, but Isabella made not a word of complaint, and though her steps flagged as dusk approached, she insisted on continuing for another mile, until darkness prevented them travelling further. Cheese and stale bread were all they had to eat, but she made no protest about this meagre fare, either.

There was sparse shelter provided by an overhanging rocky outcrop. ‘You take the blankets,’ Finlay said. ‘I’ll keep watch.’