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His Counterfeit Condesa. Joanna FulfordЧитать онлайн книгу.

His Counterfeit Condesa - Joanna Fulford


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      ‘It has been four months now, but not a day passes when I don’t think of him.’

      ‘His capture was a severe blow to the army.’

      ‘I can’t bear to think of him languishing somewhere in a French prison. I cling to the hope that one day he will be freed and I shall see him again.’

      ‘When the war is over who knows what may happen?’

      She sighed. ‘I think that day is far off.’

      ‘I know how lonely you must be without him.’ He hesitated. ‘Did you never think about settling down?’

      ‘Marriage?’ She shook her head. ‘I have never been in one place long enough to form that kind of attachment.’

      ‘Just so, my dear, and it worries me.’

      ‘There is no need, sir, truly. Father took pains to ensure I was well provided for.’

      ‘It is a godfather’s privilege to be concerned,’ he replied.

      She returned his smile. ‘When I find another man like you I may consider settling down. In the meantime it is my duty to do my part for king and country.’

      ‘Are you sure, my dear?’

      ‘Quite sure.’ She paused, her gaze searching his face. ‘There’s something in the wind, isn’t there?’

      ‘Am I so transparent?’

      ‘I’ve known you a long time, sir.’

      ‘True. And you’re right. There is a mission in the offing.’

      ‘May I know what it is?’

      ‘Even I don’t have all the details yet. All I can tell you is that it is top level. I have a meeting in the morning with General Ward and Major Forbes.’

      ‘Major Forbes is one of Wellington’s leading intelligence officers.’

      ‘Yes, he is.’ He paused. ‘What is more, he has asked that you should be present at the briefing tomorrow.’

      Her astonishment was unfeigned. While she had undertaken several missions in the last year they were all low-key affairs involving relatively small risk. This appeared to be rather different. Curiosity vied with a strange feeling of unease. What kind of mission was it that required her involvement? What part would she be asked to play?

      For a long time after she retired that night she lay awake pondering what her godfather had said. It wasn’t just the business of the mysterious mission. It was the matter of her future. At some point the war would end and, God willing, her father might be released. However, conditions in French prisons were notoriously bad and she had to face the possibility that he might not survive. What then? Likely she would have no choice but to return to England. However, she had been independent too long ever to live by someone else’s rules. Her aunt meant well but the prospect of life in a small town held no charms. Besides, the only career open to a woman was marriage, an indescribably dull fate after a lifetime of adventure. Happily, that was one problem that wouldn’t affect her. She had learned early that, when it came to matters of the heart, what men said and what they meant were very different things.

      For an instant Captain Jack Denton’s image returned, along with its false smile and equally false assurances. Of course, she had been much younger then, barely fifteen. Having no mother or older sisters to advise her, she had been easy prey for a handsome face and polished manner. They had met at her first dance. Ten years older than she, Denton’s attentions had been flattering, and had awakened something inside her whose existence had remained unknown till then. He had recognised it at once. And he had been clever, careful not to move too fast yet leaving her in no doubt of his admiration. Smiles and soft looks and compliments developed into brief stolen meetings, always when her father or his friends were not by, and eventually a tender kiss. It had kindled the spark to a flame that lit her whole being. Utterly infatuated, she never questioned his sincerity or the depth of his feelings.

      She swallowed hard. No woman in her right mind would risk making that mistake again. Nor would any woman risk her reputation so foolishly. Her relationships with men were almost entirely professional now. On those occasions when she met them socially she was unfailingly courteous but also careful to keep them at arm’s length. It was better to be free and independent. The only person she could rely on was herself.

      In the meantime she must find out what Ward and Forbes were planning, and the only way to do that was to accompany her godfather tomorrow.

      Falconbridge lay on his cot, staring into the darkness, his mind too crowded with thoughts for sleep to take him. The meeting with General Ward was still vivid. Though his skills as an intelligence agent had been used many times on different missions, Falconbridge knew this one was different. If it succeeded it could change the whole course of the war, but the hazards were great for all sorts of reasons. It had been madness to agree to do it. The fact that Ward had given him a choice showed that he knew just how much he was asking. However, the offered inducement was also considerable—for an ambitious officer. Ward was fully aware of it, of course, and calculated accordingly. He knew his man. There was no knowing if this would work, but doing nothing was not an option. Had it involved only himself, Falconbridge would have taken on the challenge without demur, even knowing the risks were great. As it was…He had expressed his reservations in the strongest possible terms, and been ignored, of course. He thumped the pillow hard. The General had made up his mind and would not be deterred. It argued a degree of calculated ruthlessness that was almost enviable.

      The meeting was arranged for ten o’clock. Sabrina had dressed with care for the occasion, donning a smart primrose-yellow gown. Her hair was neatly arranged beneath a pretty straw bonnet. Having surveyed her reflection in the glass with a critical eye she decided the outfit would pass muster. She and Colonel Albermarle presented themselves at the appointed time. Knowing the army as she did, Sabrina had expected a lengthy wait, but to her surprise they were shown straight in.

      General Ward was seated behind the desk at the far end of a large room, and Major Forbes was standing beside him. Both men were poring over a map. As they entered Ward looked up.

      ‘Ah, Colonel Albermarle.’ As the Colonel came to attention, Ward rose from his seat and bowed to Sabrina. ‘Miss Huntley.’

      Sabrina returned the greeting and accepted the offer of a chair. For a moment there was silence and she saw the General exchange glances with Forbes. Then he drew a deep breath.

      ‘We have requested your presence today in order to put forward a proposition, Miss Huntley.’

      ‘A proposition, sir?’

      ‘Yes. One of the carrier pigeons recently returned bearing a coded message. In essence, the Spanish agent who sent it has obtained vital military documents concerning French troop movements. However, his responsibilities in Madrid make it impossible for him to deliver the information to us. Like everyone else in senior government positions he is watched, and cannot afford to do anything that might appear unusual. That means someone must go and collect the information from him.’

      Sabrina’s brow wrinkled for a moment. ‘But surely it would be equally suspicious, sir, if he were suddenly visited by a total stranger.’

      ‘Ordinarily it would. However, the gentleman’s wife is celebrating her birthday next week and he is holding a ball at his mansion near Aranjuez to mark the occasion. It is to be a lavish affair. Everyone who is anyone will be there. It will also provide a perfect opportunity to get hold of the information he has obtained.’

      She nodded slowly. ‘I can see that, but I confess to being at a loss as to my role in all this.’

      ‘Our agent is to impersonate this gentleman’s cousin, the Conde de Ordoñez y Casal. The real one lives on his estate in Extremadura. Apparently he prefers the pleasures of country life to those of the city and almost never goes there.’

      ‘But isn’t there a chance someone will know him and spot the deception?’

      ‘It’s


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