Free Temptation by Leda Swann Page B

Even at this distance, Percy could see the tension in his bearing. Every muscle in his body looked as though it was on high alert, poised for action. “If you advance any further, it will be construed as an act of war.” For all they were a small party of men, it was abundantly clear they were in deadly earnest.
    Anstruther was not impressed by their threats. “I refuse to bow down to the ridiculous demands of a scruffy little would-be militia.”
    “I am warning you, we will take every measure necessary to defend ourselves against what we consider an act of aggression.”
    “I repeat, this is British territory, and I shall travel where I please.”
    “Then the blood of your men will be on your hands.” With that parting shot from their leader, the group of riders wheeled away and rode off.
    Percy watched them carefully as they rode away, the plume of dust that marked their passage disappearing every so often into the hollows of the undulating landscape.
    The veld was not as flat as it appeared at first sight, but marked with small rises and falls, almost unnoticeable to the casual observer.
    Percy had scarcely noticed the dips in the ground as he was walking, but watching the riders disappear and then reappear as they rode away made his belly feel as though he had eaten a plateful of live snakes for breakfast. “If you knew the country well, you could fit a whole regiment alongside the road within firing distance, and no one would suspect a thing,” he muttered uncomfortably to the sergeant-major walking alongside him.
    Even now they could be surrounded by enemies and walking straight into a trap, oblivious of the danger they faced. His instincts were telling him that something was very wrong.
    The sergeant-major caught the direction of his gaze and nodded. “You’re right. I don’t like it any more than you do. The whole thing smells a bit odd to me. I don’t trust them Boers further than I could kick ’em.”
    Sometimes all a soldier had to go on were his instincts. Percy swung on to the back of his horse. Despite the weeping blisters on his own feet, he’d been leading his mare all day to give her foot a rest, but her lameness seemed to have disappeared as quickly as it had developed. Shaking her reins, he encouraged her into a fast trot until he came level with the lieutenant-colonel.
    He saluted his superior officer. “Sir, would you like me and my men to ride ahead as a scouting party? That way we’ll be able to see any trouble that might be out there before the entire regiment is caught up in it.”
    Anstruther peered down his nose as if he were examining a speck of dung on his boot, and made a dismissive gesture with one hand. “The land is as flat my mother-in-law’s chest. If the Boers try anything foolish, we shall see them come riding up to us from a mile away.”
    “But—”
    Anstruther cut him off before he could finish pointing out that the ground was deceptively uneven. “Boers got you rattled, have they?” he asked condescendingly.
    Percy was too angry at the insinuation that he was a coward to reply.
    “There’s no need to worry about them,” Anstruther continued, quite oblivious to Percy’s fury. “They are like the toothless old collie dog I left in England—their bark is worse than their bite. They’ll soon learn we’re wise to their bluster.”
    “And if they take advantage of the uneven ground and attack?”
    “Then we fight them off. We have ten times their firepower. They are no match for a well-trained group of Englishmen.” He gave Percy a barely veiled look of disdain that indicated how little he thought of his junior officer’s fears. “Now, off into line with you.”
    Percy saluted slowly, wondering how he could convince the lieutenant-colonel that real danger lay ahead of them. As an English officer, he could not disobey a direct order from his commander, but every nerve in his body screamed that they were heading into a trap. “If you are quite sure that the