Sharpe 3-Book Collection 2: Sharpe’s Havoc, Sharpe’s Eagle, Sharpe’s Gold. Bernard Cornwell

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      ‘I’m a soldier, ma’am,’ Sharpe said, ‘and I’m going.’

      And then he did not go because that evening, at dusk, Colonel Christopher returned.

      The Colonel was mounted on his black horse and dressed all in black. Dodd and Pendleton were the picquets on the Quinta’s driveway and when they saluted him Christopher just touched the ivory heel of his riding crop to one of the tasselled peaks of his bicorne hat. Luis, the servant, followed and the dust from their horses’ hooves drifted across the rills of fallen wisteria blossom that lined either side of the driveway. ‘It looks like lavender, don’t it?’ Christopher remarked to Sharpe. ‘They should try growing lavender here,’ he went on as he slid from the horse. ‘It would do well, don’t you think?’ He did not wait for an answer, but instead ran up the Quinta’s steps and held his hands wide for Kate. ‘My sweetest one!’

      Sharpe, left on the terrace, found himself staring at Luis. The servant raised an eyebrow as if in exasperation, then led the horses round to the back of the house. Sharpe stared across the darkening fields. Now that the sun was gone there was a bite in the air, a tendril of winter lingering into spring. ‘Sharpe!’ the Colonel’s voice called from inside the house. ‘Sharpe!’

      ‘Sir?’ Sharpe pushed through the half-open door.

      Christopher stood in front of the hall fire, the tails of his coat lifted to the heat. ‘Kate tells me you behaved yourself. Thank you for that.’ He saw the thunder on Sharpe’s face. ‘It is a jest, man, a jest. Have you no sense of humour? Kate, dearest, a glass of decent port would be more than welcome. I’m parched, fair parched. So, Sharpe, no French activity?’

      ‘They came close,’ Sharpe said curtly, ‘but not close enough.’

      ‘Not close enough? You’re fortunate in that, I should think. Kate tells me you are leaving.’

      ‘Tonight, sir.’

      ‘No, you’re not.’ Christopher took the glass of port from Kate and downed it in one. ‘That is delicious,’ he said, staring at the empty glass, ‘one of ours?’

      ‘Our best,’ Kate said.

      ‘Not too sweet. That’s the trick of a fine port, wouldn’t you agree, Sharpe? And I must say I’ve been surprised by the white port. More than drinkable! I always thought the stuff was execrable, a woman’s tipple at best, but Savages’ white is really very good. We must make more of it in the piping days of peace, don’t you think, dearest?’

      ‘If you say so,’ Kate said, smiling at her husband.

      ‘That was rather good, Sharpe, don’t you think? Pipes of port? Piping days of peace? A piping pun, I’d say.’ Christopher waited for Sharpe’s comment and, when none came, he scowled. ‘You’ll stay here, Lieutenant.’

      ‘Why’s that, sir?’ Sharpe asked.

      The question surprised Christopher. He had been expecting a more surly response and was not ready for a mildly voiced query. He frowned, thinking how to phrase his answer. ‘I am expecting developments, Sharpe,’ he said after a few heartbeats.

      ‘Developments, sir?’

      ‘It is by no means certain,’ Christopher went on, ‘that the war will be prolonged. We could, indeed, be on the very cusp of peace.’

      ‘That’s good, sir,’ Sharpe said in an even voice, ‘and that’s why we’re to stay here?’

      ‘You’re to stay here, Sharpe.’ There was asperity in Christopher’s voice now as he realized Sharpe’s neutral tone had been impudence. ‘And that applies to you too, Lieutenant.’ He spoke to Vicente who had come into the room with a small bow to Kate. ‘Things are poised,’ the Colonel went on, ‘precariously. If the French find British troops wandering around north of the Douro they’ll think we are breaking our word.’

      ‘My troops are not British,’ Vicente observed quietly.

      ‘The principle is the same!’ Christopher snapped. ‘We do not rock the boat. We do not jeopardize weeks of negotiation. If the thing can be resolved without more bloodshed then we must do all that we can to ensure that it is so resolved, and your contribution to that process is to stay here. And who the devil are those rogues down in the village?’

      ‘Rogues?’ Sharpe asked.

      ‘A score of men, armed to the teeth, staring at me as I rode through. So who the devil are they?’

      ‘Partisans,’ Sharpe said, ‘otherwise known as our allies.’

      Christopher did not like that jibe. ‘Idiots, more like,’ he snarled, ‘ready to upset the apple cart.’

      ‘And they’re led by a man you know,’ Sharpe went on, ‘Manuel Lopes.’

      ‘Lopes? Lopes?’ Christopher frowned, trying to remember. ‘Oh yes! The fellow who ran a flogging school for the few sons of the gentry in Bragança. Blustery sort of fellow, eh? Well, I’ll have a word with him in the morning. Tell him not to upset matters, and the same goes for you two. And that’ – he looked from Sharpe to Vicente – ‘is an order.’

      Sharpe did not argue. ‘Did you bring an answer from Captain Hogan?’ he asked instead.

      ‘I didn’t see Hogan. Left your letter at Cradock’s headquarters.’

      ‘And General Wellesley’s not here?’ Sharpe asked.

      ‘He is not,’ Christopher said, ‘but General Cradock is, and he commands, and he concurs with my decision that you stay here.’ The Colonel saw the frown on Sharpe’s face and opened a pouch at his belt from which he took a piece of paper that he handed to Sharpe. ‘There, Lieutenant,’ he said silkily, ‘in case you’re worried.’

      Sharpe unfolded the paper, which proved to be an order signed by General Cradock and addressed to Lieutenant Sharpe that placed him under Colonel Christopher’s command. Christopher had gulled the order from Cradock who had believed the Colonel’s assurance that he needed protection, though in truth it simply amused Christopher to have Sharpe put under his command. The order ended with the words ‘pro tem’, which puzzled Sharpe. ‘Pro tem, sir?’ he asked.

      ‘You never learned Latin, Sharpe?’

      ‘No, sir.’

      ‘Good God, where did you go to school? It means for the time being. Until, indeed, I am through with you, but you do agree, Lieutenant, that you are now strictly under my orders?’

      ‘Of course, sir.’

      ‘Keep the paper, Sharpe,’ Christopher said irritably when Sharpe tried to hand back General Cradock’s order, ‘it’s addressed to you, for God’s sake, and looking at it once in a while might remind you of your duty. Which is to obey my orders and stay here. If there is a truce then it won’t hurt our bargaining position to say we have troops established well north of the Douro, so you dig your heels in here and you stay very quiet. Now, if you’ll pardon me, gentlemen, I’d like some time with my wife.’

      Vicente bowed again and left, but Sharpe did not move. ‘You’ll be staying here with СКАЧАТЬ