Lady Emma's Campaign Read Online Free Page B

again. “Sir, we have come for your help. We believe Captain Fletcher is not dead.”
    Emma jolted, and she quickly set down the cup that she had been about to hand to William as her hand started to shake. She blinked and pressed her lips together to keep from crying out. Could the others hear her heart pommeling in her chest?
    Lieutenant Wellard continued, “When it was discovered that the numbers of French troops stationed at Cádiz were being reduced as more and more departed—”
    “Yes, to assist with the siege of Badajoz,” William interrupted. He nodded and rotated his hand, indicating for the lieutenant to speed up his account.
    “A relief army was sent to Tarifa to attack the French lines from the rear. We were part of the campaign under Sir Thomas Graham, and we found ourselves marching to Fort Matagorda on the Trocadero Peninsula near Cádiz. As the battle progressed, we were commanded to fall back to the town of Chiclana, tend to the wounded, and reassess our strategy. Captain Fletcher was unaccounted for and assumed either dead or captured.”
    “But I saw him taken.” Riley’s words burst forth in a rush he’d likely been holding back since his arrival. “Captain Fletcher was with me on the battlefield. He was covering my escape, sir, when he was cut off from the remainder of our company and relieved of his weapons. They surrounded him and took him into the French fort at gunpoint.”
    Emma’s stomach turned over. The image of Sidney struggling while being dragged by French soldiers into a building with metal armaments arose in her mind. She blinked, remembering herself, and returned to the task of serving the tea.
    “An inquiry was made, of course.” Lieutenant Wellard nodded his thanks to Emma as she handed him a cup and saucer. “But we were told there was no prisoner by that name.”
    Amelia pressed both hands to her mouth, and William put his arm around her shoulders. “And what of your new captain? Was he informed of this? Did he not investigate?” William bit off each question.
    Lieutenant Fairchild folded his arms in front of his chest and lowered his eyebrows. “The acting Captain Mitchell is . . . reluctant to look into the matter.”
    “You believe that he does not wish to locate Captain Fletcher, as it would not only reflect badly upon him for not doing so sooner but restore him to his former office of first lieutenant.” William’s scowl matched the lieutenant’s.
    “Sir, I cannot assume such a thing without being accused of disloyalty to my commanding officer,” Lieutenant Fairchild said. “However, if you were to assume it, I would not find myself inclined to argue with you.”
    Emma held her hand to her throat. Her mind swam, questions tumbling over one another. Was Sidney really alive? If so, was he injured? Ill? Had he been tortured? And why was there no record of his imprisonment? How was it possible that his own men could not find him?
    “We have even spoken to my uncle, the Duke of Southampton, who appealed to the Lords of the Admiralty for a more formal investigation to be opened,” said the tall, gangly Corporal Ashworth. “But without a ransom demand or evidence that he is indeed a prisoner, they declare that there is nothing they can do. We have run out of options. The commander of our fleet, Admiral Griffin, suggested that, as the matter cannot be officially pursued by the navy, we should speak to you.”
    Riley set his plate on the table next to him and leaned forward. “Captain Drake, we must return to Spain. We cannot abandon Captain Fletcher, and you are the only one who can rescue—Do you have access to a ship?”
    William’s agitation apparently became too much to contain. He rose and began to pace around the room.
    Emma wished propriety would allow her to join him.
    “Lieutenant Wellard”—William stopped and turned back toward them on the heel of his boot—“how long are you in port?”
    “At least a month, Captain.”
    William was silent a