arrested. Being as t'plaintiff were a lord's son, t'judge sentenced us all to hang.'
Concha paled. 'But you did not cheat the man. You only removed him from the premises on someone else's orders.'
'That made no odds and so I ended up in t'Fleet along wi' t'rest. Anyway, day before sentence were due to be carried out, a recruiting sergeant turned up at t'gaol. Seems army were short o' men. Anyhow, we were given a choice: take t'king's shilling or hang.'
'You were fortunate.'
'Aye, I was, though to be honest it didn't seem like that at first. After a while though I got a taste for army life and it weren't so bad.'
'You survived.'
'That I did, so I can't complain really.'
Elena wondered how he could speak so matter-of-factly about so hard a life. In comparison her upbringing had been one of unvarying comfort and ease. She'd had parents who loved her; she'd been given an education, food, clothing and every advantage. In that respect she'd been so much luckier than most. If the war hadn't come along she'd have been married to a nobleman and would have continued to live a life of luxury, quite unaware of how precarious existence could be. The war had provided a different kind of education and it had changed everything.
She wasn't alone in feeling sobered. Harry had listened in thoughtful silence too. Although he knew something of Jack's past he'd had no idea of the earlier details of the man's life, until now. It reinforced his own sense of how fortunate he'd been. Born into a life of privilege and plenty, he'd always taken it for granted. As he grew older he began to realise that other people lived very differently, but, until he'd joined the army, he had never encountered the reality at close quarters. At first he was horrified by the ignorance, coarseness and brutality he'd encountered among the rank and file, but acquaintance with Jack Hawkes had given him a deeper insight into why they were like it. Many of the regular soldiers were gaol fodder but most of them were not bad men. Jack was proof enough of that. Harry wasn't at all sure that he could have dealt with such adversity with that level of courage and determination.
They finished their meal and Elena collected the platters and cups and returned them to the tray. Then Jack got his feet.
'I'll take first watch tonight, my lord, if you'd like.'
Harry nodded. 'Concha, you'll join him. Elena and I will relieve you later.'
She experienced a momentary surprise but said nothing. Doubtless he had his reasons for doubling up on the watch. Jack didn't argue either.
'You're thinking what I'm thinking, then.'
'I expect so,' said Harry.
Elena intercepted the glance that passed between the two men. 'You expect trouble from our hosts?'
'Let's just say that it doesn't pay to get complacent,' replied Harry.
'You're right. It doesn't.'
'Regard it as a precaution only. In the meantime, let's get some rest.'
Elena nodded and went to investigate the hay loft. It was essentially a platform under the rafters and was reached by a ladder. However, though primitive, the place smelled sweet enough and the bed would at least be soft. After all, she had slept in far worse.
Having laid out the bedroll she removed her jacket and used it to improvise a pillow. Then she tugged off her boots and lay down, settling herself comfortably. A few minutes later Harry joined her. In the confined space his presence seemed even more imposing. Covertly she watched as he spread his blanket and then removed his own coat before stretching out beside her. However, he made no move in her direction. There had been no repetition of the brief intimate moment they had shared after the fiesta, and it occurred to her that it might well have been the wine talking that night. Once he was completely sober perhaps he found the thought of her less pleasing. No matter how much time had passed since the events in Badajoz, she was still soiled goods.
She closed her eyes, listening to the rain drumming on the roof, each particle of her being attuned to the man beside her. Her lips still bore the imprint of his kiss, her flesh remembered his touch. In those fleeting moments he had made her feel truly alive. What might he make her feel if she surrendered herself completely? If he took her, if he made her his, might not the evils of the past be expunged? Might she not