Free Lady Emma's Campaign by Jennifer Moore Page B

Emma’s hurried words. “Where is the warden? Are you harmed? Are you alone?” He attempted to speak calmly through his confusion.
    “Serena . . . hit him. On the head, and then we bound his hands and feet. I do not know how long it will be until he wakes up.”
    “Where is Serena?” Sidney asked.
    “I am here,” Serena answered.
    “And Jim?” He turned blindly toward her voice.
    “I believe he is in his cell. We must release him. And we must hurry. You can light the lantern?”
    Sidney felt something pressed against his chest. He released Emma’s hand and took what he recognized to be a tinderbox. “Is there tinder in here?”
    “Bits of cloth,” Emma said. “But it is difficult to . . .” her words trailed off as Sidney struck the flint and shook a shower of sparks into the chamber. He blew softly until a small flame grew, and he hurriedly lit the lantern.
    “Much better,” he said once he could see the women. He was, at the same time, overjoyed at this chance of escape and terrified as the full magnitude of the situation settled upon him. Emma and Serena had both risked their lives for him and placed their own into his hands. He could not allow anyone to hurt them, and recapture was not an option. He set the lantern upon the floor then quickly slid his arms into the warden’s jacket and placed the bicorn hat upon his head to complete the disguise. The French uniforms with their silly tri-colored rosettes and plumes were utterly ridiculous.
    He picked up the lantern and looked between the two women. He could see the fear in their eyes and spoke lightly, hoping to set them at ease. “Well, one could certainly not ask for lovelier rescuers, although in the future when I describe our gallant escape, my ego may demand that I embellish my role somewhat.”
    His own naval jacket lay carefully folded in a corner of his cell. He snatched it, handed it to Emma, pocketed the tinderbox, and led the women out into the passageway.
    They followed the tunnel as it wound back toward the stairs, and Sidney commented, “I cannot believe you navigated your way in the dark.”
    “It was Emma who found you,” Serena said, and Sidney felt a glow of pride, as an elder brother naturally would, he told himself.
    Once they reached the staircase, Serena handed him the keys, and he quickly opened the gate, following Serena’s instructions to Jim’s cell. He knew he would never be able to navigate the Spanish countryside without Jim’s help.
    In the French uniform, Sidney was able to move through the fort unnoticed. Although he kept his eyes straight ahead, Sidney scanned the courtyard for any threat. He was conscious of each man that passed and how he would defend himself and Emma and Serena if they were stopped. When they turned a corner, he glanced at his companions. Serena’s face was tight with worry, but Emma looked terrified. Her gloved hands clenched the jacket she held pressed against her chest, and her eyes darted nervously around.
    He smiled and lifted his brows, hoping he looked encouraging.
    Sidney leaned back around the corner and surveyed the courtyard behind them. He tried not to allow his surprise to show as he observed the soldiers running and yelling throughout the fort. The British army would never allow its troops to behave in such a way. Discipline was key. Each man knew his duty and moved to his position in an orderly fashion. Even though Sidney was an enemy wearing a poorly fitting uniform jacket and leading two women through the stronghold, none of the French soldiers spared him a glance, making him grateful for the shoddy French training.
    When they found Jim’s cell, Sidney glanced through the barred window in the door as he turned the key in the lock. Jim sat on his cot and raised his head when the door opened. If the man felt any surprise at seeing Sidney dressed in a French uniform, accompanied by two ladies, he did not show it. The fact that he simply stood, put on his red regimental