Dark Angel by Tracy Grant Read Free Book Online Page A

with their commanding officer."
    Caroline, who had barely had time to realize that the danger was past, felt a moment of alarm. No foraging parties had visited Acquera since she and Emily had arrived, but Adela had given her a vivid picture of the horrors to be faced. She stepped forward. "You can't go anywhere until that wound is bandaged." The wound was on Adam's right side, away from the light of the window, and it was difficult to judge the extent of the damage.
    "It's only a scratch," Adam assured her. "Believe me, I've been wounded enough times to know what's serious and what isn't. If you can spare me a cloth of some sort I shall do very well. Then you'd better get Emily. The two of you will have to come with us, it won't be safe in the cottage. Hawkins, have a look at the street and see how the land lies."
    Once again gripped by the calm that had sustained her through the scene with the French soldiers, Caroline took a towel from the chest in the corner which held her few dishes. She gave it to Adam and set the gun down on the table, then hurried into the back room. Emily was sitting on the pallet where she slept, arms clasped about her knees, eyes fixed on the door. At Caroline's entrance she ran forward and hugged her mother's legs.
    "It's all right, querida," Caroline said, stroking her daughter's hair. "There are French soldiers in the village, but Mr. Durward has a plan to make us safe. You can help by being very quiet, no matter what he says."
    Emily nodded. She had, Caroline feared, a quite unwarranted faith in her mother's ability to protect her.
    By the time they returned to the outer room, Adam was standing near the door conferring with Hawkins. He must have contrived a bandage, for the cloth was gone, but his coat, which he had put on again, concealed the wound. "Hawkins and I will walk on either side of you," he told Caroline. "I don't anticipate trouble." He looked down at Emily and smiled. "Quite an adventure, isn't it? A lot of grown men acting like foolish boys."
    An answering smile lit Emily's dark eyes. Caroline moved forward and lifted Emily into her arms, breaking the contact between Adam and her daughter. If Adam noticed her abrupt intervention he gave no sign of it. He opened the door and glanced out, then nodded and walked into the street. Holding tightly to Emily, Caroline moved after him.
    Bright light and rapid movement assaulted her senses. The air was thick with the sound of French voices bawling orders and Spanish voices protesting, with the smell of gunpowder and spilt wine. Dust flew in her eyes and filled her nostrils. Emily's arms tightened convulsively about her neck. Caroline gathered her closer, one hand behind her head, as if she could shield Emily from the scene round them. Every instinct screamed that they should run away, not walk into this chaos.
    There was a sudden firm touch at her waist. Caroline realized Adam had put an arm around her. "Steady," he said, guiding her forward. "It looks worse than it is."
    The pressure of his arm was solid and reassuring, but his hand felt hot, almost feverish. Caroline looked quickly at him, wondering if the wound was causing him more trouble than he had admitted. Adam smiled. At that smile, Caroline felt a strange confidence surge through her. Eyes fixed straight ahead, she moved forward within the shelter of his arm, aware of Emily's trembling and the pounding of her own heart. They were engulfed by noise and confusion. The sound of footsteps, the neighing of horses, and the crash of heavy objects being thrown against the cobblestones blended in a nightmarish din. Frightened animals darted across the road, dark streaks of movement. Villagers stumbled by, but Caroline could scarcely recognize faces. If she let herself think about anything but putting one foot in front of the other she would lose what self-control she had left.
    When they reached Adela's cottage, Caroline turned her gaze from the road. The door was shut and there was no sign