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Authors: Georgette Heyer
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lordship. ‘But you’d better get it done quickly. We shall break up from camp in a day or two.’
It was done two days later, in spite of the protests of Harry’s friends. Everyone of them took the gloomiest view of his future. They said he was a fool, before they had been presented to Juana; and after that, they said that from now on he would be sure to neglect his duty ‘You’re wrong, you’re entirely wrong!’ Harry answered, very bright-eyed these days, walking as though on springs. ‘I’ll stick to my duty. Why, how the devil can I support a wife if I don’t get preferment? You’ll see!’
But he was careful to explain it all to Juana. Sitting with his arm round her waist on the eve of their wedding-day, he told her what his duties were, how they would keep him often from her side, yet how impossible it would be for him to shirk the least part of them. She flamed suddenly, chest swelling, eyes flashing. ‘Do you think that I would permit you to neglect your duty?’ she demanded. ‘You are abominable, a villain! I am a de León!’ ‘Oho!’ said Harry, amused by this glimpse of his love’s fiery temper. ‘Little guerrera!’ ‘Oh!’ To be called a virago made her speechless. She would have boxed his ears had he not caught her hand, and held it. ‘It is not true!’
‘No, no! Una nina buena!’ he assured her, laughing at her.
‘No! I am not any longer a child, and you shall not mock at me. And I have not got a very bad temper. Not at all, Absolutamente no! I am—I am—’
‘Dolce como la miel,’ he suggested.
She regarded him suspiciously, saw the betraying quiver of a muscle at the corner of his mouth, and burst into a little crow of laughter. ‘Yes! Yes! Sweeter than honey when people are polite to me!’
He jerked her roughly into his arms, crushing the breath out of her. ‘Enamorada! amanta!’ he said huskily, covering her face with kisses.
She whispered: ‘Love me! Love me always!’ ‘Mientras viva! As long as life!’ he answered.
She nestled against his breast. ‘And I too, Enrique. Con toda mi alma, bien amado!’ Seeing him swept off his feet by this tempestuous passion, Harry’s friends accepted defeat, yet accounted him lost. There was very little for even the keenest duty-officer to do while the British troops continued to ravage Badajos, so that Harry’s vow not to neglect the least part of his work could not at once be put to the test. The inward glow in his narrowed eyes, a certain tautness of muscle, that consuming look of hunger he had, did not promise well for the brigade, thought his anxious friends. But they attended his wedding, putting good faces on the disaster; and even poor Johnston, that superb Rifleman, lying in his tent with a shattered arm, roused himself from his agony to send Harry a message of good luck. There were tragic gaps in the ranks of Harry’s friends, but still they mustered a good many, gathered about the upturned drum in the camp of the Connaught Rangers, those brave, drunken blackguards of old Picton’s. Overhead, a wind-tossed sky showed patches of blue between billows of white cloud. A strong sunlight beat down upon the deserted tents; the wind fluttered the priest’s stole, and the mantilla cast over Juana’s head. There was an unaccustomed silence in the camp, but from the walled town faint shots sounded from time to time, and the subdued murmur of tumult, hushed by distance. The troops inside Badajos were shooting at the pigeons that wheeled and circled round the Cathedral tower; the muted noise of an army let loose to enjoy itself made Juana’s sister shiver, and glance fearfully across the Rivillas stream to the bastioned walls. But, after all, there were two ways of looking at the sack of Badajos. ‘Well!’ said Paddy Aisy, brewing a strong potion of spiced wine in one of the camp-kettles, ‘now id’s all past and gone, and wasn’t it the divil’s own dthroll business, the taking that same place; and wasn’t
It was done two days later, in spite of the protests of Harry’s friends. Everyone of them took the gloomiest view of his future. They said he was a fool, before they had been presented to Juana; and after that, they said that from now on he would be sure to neglect his duty ‘You’re wrong, you’re entirely wrong!’ Harry answered, very bright-eyed these days, walking as though on springs. ‘I’ll stick to my duty. Why, how the devil can I support a wife if I don’t get preferment? You’ll see!’
But he was careful to explain it all to Juana. Sitting with his arm round her waist on the eve of their wedding-day, he told her what his duties were, how they would keep him often from her side, yet how impossible it would be for him to shirk the least part of them. She flamed suddenly, chest swelling, eyes flashing. ‘Do you think that I would permit you to neglect your duty?’ she demanded. ‘You are abominable, a villain! I am a de León!’ ‘Oho!’ said Harry, amused by this glimpse of his love’s fiery temper. ‘Little guerrera!’ ‘Oh!’ To be called a virago made her speechless. She would have boxed his ears had he not caught her hand, and held it. ‘It is not true!’
‘No, no! Una nina buena!’ he assured her, laughing at her.
‘No! I am not any longer a child, and you shall not mock at me. And I have not got a very bad temper. Not at all, Absolutamente no! I am—I am—’
‘Dolce como la miel,’ he suggested.
She regarded him suspiciously, saw the betraying quiver of a muscle at the corner of his mouth, and burst into a little crow of laughter. ‘Yes! Yes! Sweeter than honey when people are polite to me!’
He jerked her roughly into his arms, crushing the breath out of her. ‘Enamorada! amanta!’ he said huskily, covering her face with kisses.
She whispered: ‘Love me! Love me always!’ ‘Mientras viva! As long as life!’ he answered.
She nestled against his breast. ‘And I too, Enrique. Con toda mi alma, bien amado!’ Seeing him swept off his feet by this tempestuous passion, Harry’s friends accepted defeat, yet accounted him lost. There was very little for even the keenest duty-officer to do while the British troops continued to ravage Badajos, so that Harry’s vow not to neglect the least part of his work could not at once be put to the test. The inward glow in his narrowed eyes, a certain tautness of muscle, that consuming look of hunger he had, did not promise well for the brigade, thought his anxious friends. But they attended his wedding, putting good faces on the disaster; and even poor Johnston, that superb Rifleman, lying in his tent with a shattered arm, roused himself from his agony to send Harry a message of good luck. There were tragic gaps in the ranks of Harry’s friends, but still they mustered a good many, gathered about the upturned drum in the camp of the Connaught Rangers, those brave, drunken blackguards of old Picton’s. Overhead, a wind-tossed sky showed patches of blue between billows of white cloud. A strong sunlight beat down upon the deserted tents; the wind fluttered the priest’s stole, and the mantilla cast over Juana’s head. There was an unaccustomed silence in the camp, but from the walled town faint shots sounded from time to time, and the subdued murmur of tumult, hushed by distance. The troops inside Badajos were shooting at the pigeons that wheeled and circled round the Cathedral tower; the muted noise of an army let loose to enjoy itself made Juana’s sister shiver, and glance fearfully across the Rivillas stream to the bastioned walls. But, after all, there were two ways of looking at the sack of Badajos. ‘Well!’ said Paddy Aisy, brewing a strong potion of spiced wine in one of the camp-kettles, ‘now id’s all past and gone, and wasn’t it the divil’s own dthroll business, the taking that same place; and wasn’t
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