Amanda McCabe - A Stranger at Castonbury

‘Run, Catalina!’ the man shouted. ‘We must find shelter now.’

Catalina turned her head and saw it was the English doctor, leading a couple of the more mobile wounded soldiers from the burning camp.

‘But the others …’ she gasped.

‘Those who could flee have already gone,’ the doctor answered. ‘I fear the chaplain has been killed. The French are close in their pursuit. We must go, now .’

Catalina ran with him back towards the trees, where they found a hiding place in the shadows, their heads down as the shells flew overhead and they prayed the French armies wouldn’t find them. Once darkness gave them cover, they fled towards the village with the few other survivors.

Only the next morning, as they stumbled out onto the road to Seville, did she see to her horror that she had lost her precious sapphire ring….

‘So you are alive.’

Jamie opened his eyes to find a man standing over him, his features a blur from the light that streamed from the windows behind him. It was the first time he had heard anyone speak in that crisp English accent in days, ever since Sanchez had pulled him out of the river and slung him over the horse to find a hospital. They had ended in this house in a small village.

At first Jamie had been in such a strange dream state he was able to remember nothing at all. Only snatches of hazy memories, like a summer’s day in the Castonbury gardens and Catalina’s hand in his as they walked down the aisle. Gradually things became clearer, the pain sharper, and he cursed his damnable weakness. He had to finish what he had set out to do and get back to Catalina.

The man stepped back, and Jamie saw it was Lord Cawley, who had been his contact for secret work in Spain, the man who had sent him the letter requesting his assistance in the matter with the royal family.

There was surely only one thing he would be doing there.

Jamie gave a humourless laugh and pushed himself up against the pillows. ‘I hadn’t thought to see you so soon, Cawley.’

‘No? Why not? I came at once when Sanchez sent word you were injured. We feared you might have died.’

‘And thus you would get no more work out of me?’

‘You have been one of our best operatives, Hatherton,’ Cawley said. He pulled up a straight-backed wooden chair and sat down. His thin, lined face looked even harsher than usual. ‘These are perilous days. After the French are gone, we have to be sure Spain is once again a friendly ally for England. It is of vital importance.’

‘And you think King Ferdinand is the answer to that,’ Jamie said drily.

‘It is. He is not the finest choice, we admit, but he is the best option for now. Europe must have stability once Napoleon is gone. You are the best choice for such a vital and delicate operation.’

‘I fear I can no longer be of help to you,’ Jamie said.

‘No?’ Cawley tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair, watching Jamie steadily. ‘That is unfortunate. The timing could not be better for our scheme.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean that it is already rumoured you died in the river, tragically swept away. You could go undercover with no one the wiser.’ Cawley gestured around the quiet little white room. ‘No one knows where you are. And sadly your camp was destroyed by the French in the chaos after you departed.’

Jamie sat up straight, his muscles tense with alarm, his mind buzzing. Surely he had not just heard the man’s words right. ‘The camp was destroyed?’

‘Yes. You have not been told? Such a tragedy. So many lives lost, including the wounded and even women.’ Cawley reached inside his coat and withdrew a small scrap of blue-grey muslin. He unwrapped it to reveal a sapphire ring.

The gold was scratched and dirt was caught in the setting, but Jamie could see it was his mother’s ring. The one he had slipped onto Catalina’s finger. Wrapped in a torn shred of one of her work dresses.

‘This was found in the camp ruins,’ Cawley said. ‘Yours, I think. It has your family motto engraved inside.’

He tossed it across the room and Jamie caught it. Validus Superstes was indeed engraved on the inside. Catalina had vowed she would never take it off after their wedding. If it was here, in Cawley’s possession …

‘You gave it to someone?’ Cawley said quietly.

‘I can’t imagine you would have dropped it yourself.’

‘A lady named Catalina Moreno,’ Jamie answered, closing his fist around the ring as if that would bring her back to him. Even in that moment he could feel her slipping further and further away.

Cawley nodded. ‘The Spanish nurse. One of the lost, I fear.’

Lost . Catalina was lost, lost, lost. Those words echoed hollowly in his head, yet still he could not quite grasp them. She was the most vivid person he had ever known—how could she simply be gone, just like that?

A sharp pain shot through him, a jolt of purest, hottest grief. Then a cold numbness as if ice was slowly creeping around his heart.

‘Perhaps that is for the best,’ Cawley said. ‘Her brother was known to be a liberal, even though he has been long dead. She would only have stood in the way of what is best. And I would hate to see harm come to anyone in your family because you could not do your duty. I am sure you understand what I mean.’

Harm come to anyone in your family . Of course he knew what the man meant; it was a veiled threat pure and simple. Jamie tightened his hand on the ring until the edges of the stone cut into his flesh. He closed his eyes and let that ice cover him. It had to be better than the burn of grief, of knowing he would never see Catalina again and that he had not been there to save her when she needed him.

Yes—he had failed Catalina. And his family would be better off without him as well. Had he not run off and left them because he was unsure he could assume the responsibilities of a dukedom? Had he not already failed in his duty? At least he could protect them now by doing this task. And if he was lucky he would not return from it.

As if he sensed Jamie’s cold fury, Cawley rose from his chair and turned towards the door. ‘Everyone already believes you dead, Hatherton. It makes you the perfect one for this job. And when it’s over you can return to your family, knowing the service you did for your country. Send me word of your decision tomorrow.’

Then Jamie was alone. He closed his eyes and held on to the ring as if it was the last tether anchoring him to the real world. The last connection to his foolish dreams. Catalina was gone, and Cawley was right—it hardly mattered what happened to him now.

But first he had to do something for himself.

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