Send Me Safely Back Again by Adrian Goldsworthy Page A

north from there, you will be moving through the heart of the French army. Major Velarde has gone to take a message to your Mr Pringle, telling him to take his men even farther north beyond the Tagus, where you will join him.’
    ‘And what of the stores we were sent to find?’ asked Williams.
    D’Urban could not decide whether the man was desperately unimaginative or trying to assert a stubborn independence. ‘As far as we can tell they were taken on the road to Madrid. Velarde will make more detailed enquiries at Badajoz, and assist in any other way.’
    ‘It is quite possible that the local authorities have already taken or destroyed them,’ added Baynes. ‘Or the French may have them. That would be regrettable, but you all have an opportunity to perform a great service to our allies and ourselves.’
    ‘Of course, we understand our duty,’ said Wickham. ‘Although I will regret being unable to assist you here.’
    ‘We shall miss you, of course.’ Privately Baynes could see little sign that Wickham had been or could be useful as part of their delegation. ‘But this is a task requiring a man of experience and rank.’
    Williams loathed the thought of being placed under Wickham’s command, but the army never gave a man choice over such things. The latter’s account of his flight from the battle and the loss of Hanley sounded plausible enough. In the confusion, there was every chance that a man might fall behind and could not be rescued. His instincts told him that Wickham was hiding something. Williams had hoped to gain a clearer account fromVelarde, but the Spanish officer had ridden for Badajoz before there was a chance to see him privately.
    ‘Travelling as part of the household of the Doña Margarita you should be able to pass unmolested by the enemy,’ continued Baynes. ‘Her late husband was the younger son of the Conde de Madrigal de las Altas Torres, one of the great families of old Castile. The war had already taken both of his two older brothers and made him the heir to the title and the estates.’
    Wickham’s interest became all the more evident, and he sat straight and eager on the folding camp stool he occupied.
    Williams was sceptical. ‘Does wealth bring safety even in the middle of a war?’
    ‘It never does any harm,’ chuckled Baynes. ‘At any time.’
    ‘Doña Margarita’s father-in-law is a very old man, as well as a wealthy and influential one,’ explained D’Urban. ‘His political inclinations remain unclear, but you can be sure that they will carry great weight. So he is courted by all sides, and his family treated well. Doña Margarita carries letters of protection signed by Joseph-Napoleon himself, as well as others bearing the seal of the Duke of Astorga, of General Palafox, and many other men of note in Spain. She can move almost at will throughout the country. A few weeks ago she resided in a family house in Toledo, in spite of the French occupation.’
    ‘Is she safe from marauders?’ asked Williams. ‘They may not trouble themselves to read any letters.’
    ‘She has her servant, who was an hussar in her husband’s regiment,’ replied Baynes, pleased at this sign of intelligence amid the suspicion. ‘But that is why you will be performing such a service by protecting the lady and that which she carries.’
    ‘The child?’ Williams had glimpsed the heavily veiled Spanish aristocrat only from a distance as she climbed down from her carriage and was ushered to a tent. It was clear that she was heavy with child, and that brought back memories of the terrifying hours back in the winter when Dobson’s daughter Jenny had given birth in a tumbledown shack. Williams, Jenny and Miss MacAndrews had been cut off when the army retreated. For thatnight Jane MacAndrews had taken charge, and ordered the nervously clumsy officer outside. To his immense relief the boy was born sound in limb and voice, and the mother survived the ordeal in robust health – so robust, indeed,