'Red' is this week's Tuesday's Tales prompt, and so I have skipped to a short excerpt in chapter three of Vidal's Honor, my current Regency WIP.
As this is still in first draft any comments and suggestions will be apprecaited.
[It is in Viscount Lord Alastair Vidal's pov]
“You have information for me?” The ease with which the man had caught his attention bothered Vidal. Had this man done the same when the French soldiers arrived?”
“You seek the strange woman?”
The lip of the man’s cap shielded his face from scrutiny.
“You mean Phillipe’s cousin?”
“She’s no cousin of Phillipe’s.” A snort accompanied the shuffle of feet. “I don’t know who she is, but she’s not Spanish.
“And did you tell the French soldiers what you are telling me?” For the life of him Vidal failed to mask his contempt.
“Of course not! I wouldn’t do that.” Indignation won over caution and the man stepped in front of Vidal, his face red with fury.
“Then why tell me?”
“You are English. I heard the woman talking with Sancia, Phillipe’s wife, one day when I was passing her hut. The door was open, you see, and she did not speak like a true Spaniard.”
“Go on.” Vidal waited for his informer to continue. “She left before nightfall.”
The significance of this information did not escape Vidal. “How long ago?”
“Two nights ago. The French came the next day, and the following day Phillipe left.”
“You say you heard her talking,” Vidal said. “Did you ever see her?”
“As she left the village. She wasn’t alone. The men with her were not from this village, but Phillipe knew them.”
“She wore britches, waistcoat and boots.” He paused, his eyes unfocused in thought. “A cap,” he said. “She wore a cap, but it did not hide her hair well. She had golden hair. The colour of the sun just before sunset. No one round here has hair that colour.” With a nod the man looked at Vidal, his focus back on the present and not on the events of the last few days.