The colonel stared at her for a moment, then grunted something that might have been a response before turning back to Edward.
“Do you bring any news?” Edward asked.
“Do you?”
“I am afraid not, but Cecilia has been most helpful in my quest to regain my memory. We have traversed the town many times, searching for clues.”
Cecilia pasted a placid smile on her face.
Which Colonel Stubbs ignored. “I don’t see how you think to find clues here in New York. It’s the time in Connecticut that needs to be examined.”
“About that,” Edward said mildly, “I was wondering—did I have a uniform?”
“What?” The colonel’s voice was curt and distracted, and he was patently irritated by the abrupt change of subject.
“I had the strangest recollection this morning. It’s probably not even relevant, but as I was donning my coat, it occurred to me that I had not done so in quite a long time.”
The colonel just stared at him. “I don’t follow.”
“The coat at the hospital . . . This one, as a matter of fact,” Edward said, brushing his hand along his sleeve. “Where did it come from? It’s obviously mine, but I don’t think I had it with me.”
“I held it for you,” Stubbs said gruffly. “Wouldn’t do to be labeled a lobsterback in Connecticut.”
“Are they not loyal to the crown?” Cecilia inquired.
“Rebels are everywhere,” Stubbs said, shooting her an irritated look. “They are sprinkled like salt, and the very devil to excise.”
“Excise?” Cecilia echoed. It was a disturbing choice of words. She had not been in New York very long, but even she was able to discern that the political landscape was more complicated than the newspapers at home would have her believe. She was, and always would be, a proud British subject, but she could not help but see that the colonists had some legitimate grievances.
But before she could say anything further (not that she was intending to), she felt Edward’s hand on her leg under the table, its heavy weight cautioning her not to speak.
“I beg your pardon,” Cecilia murmured, casting her eyes obediently toward her lap. “I was not familiar with the term.”
It hurt to utter such a lie, but there was clearly some benefit in having the colonel think her somewhat less than brilliant. And the last thing she wanted was for him to think that she was not loyal to the crown.
“Might I inquire, then,” Edward asked, moving the conversation forward with smooth agility, “if my lack of a uniform in Connecticut means that I was there as a spy?”
“I wouldn’t say that,” the colonel huffed.
“What would you say?” Cecilia asked, biting her tongue when Edward’s hand tightened on her thigh again. But it was difficult to keep her mouth shut. The colonel was so aggravating, dropping bits of information here and there, never quite telling Edward what he needed to know.
“I beg your pardon,” she mumbled. Edward had turned to her with a cool glance, once again warning her not to interfere. She had to stop antagonizing Colonel Stubbs, and not just for Edward’s sake. The colonel knew Thomas as well, and though he had not proved helpful in her search thus far, he might in the future.
“Spying is such an unsavory word,” Colonel Stubbs said, nodding in reply to her apology. “Certainly nothing to discuss in front of a lady.”
“A scout, then,” Edward suggested. “Would that be a more accurate description?”
Stubbs grunted in the affirmative.
Edward’s lips pressed into a firm line that was oddly difficult to interpret. He did not look angry, at least not as angry as Cecilia was feeling. Rather, she had the impression that he was sifting through information in his mind, placing it in neat little piles for future reference. He had a very orderly way of looking at the world—a trait that must have made his memory deficit twice as difficult to bear.
“I realize,” Edward said, steepling his hands in a contemplative motion, “that you are in an extremely delicate position. But if you truly wish for me to remember the events of the last few months, you will need to help me recall them.” He leaned forward. “We are on the same side.”
“I have never doubted your loyalty,” the colonel said.
Edward nodded graciously.
“But nor can I feed you the information I wish to hear.”
“Are you saying you know what Edward was doing?” Cecilia cut in.
“Cecilia,” Edward said, his voice a soft warning.
Which she ignored. “If you know what he was doing, you must tell him,” she insisted. “It’s cruel of you not to. It could help him regain his memory.”
“Cecilia,” Edward said again, this time with bite.
But she could not keep silent. Ignoring Edward’s warning, she locked eyes with Colonel Stubbs and said, “Surely if you want him to remember what happened in Connecticut, you will tell him everything you know.”
The colonel met her stare with his own. “That is all very well and good, Mrs. Rokesby, but have you considered that anything I say could influence your husband’s recollections? I cannot afford to color his memories with information of my own that may or may not be accurate.”
“I—” Some of the fight left Cecilia as she realized the colonel had a point. But still, wasn’t Edward’s peace of mind worth something?
Stern lines formed at the corners of Edward’s mouth. “Allow me to apologize for my wife,” he said.
“No,” Cecilia said. “I will apologize for myself. I am sorry. It is difficult for me to see the situation from your point of view.”
“You want your husband to get well,” Colonel Stubbs said with surprising gentleness.
“I do,” she said fervently. “Even—”
Her heart stopped. Even if it meant her own downfall? She was living in a house of cards, and the moment Edward regained his memory, it was all over. She almost laughed at the bitter irony of it. She’d been arguing nonstop with the colonel, fighting for the one thing that would break her heart.
But she couldn’t help it. She wanted him to get well. She wanted it more than anything. More than— Her heart stopped. More than finding Thomas?
No. That could not be. Maybe she was just as bad as Colonel Stubbs, withholding facts that could help Edward get his memory back. But Thomas was her brother. Edward would understand.
Or so she kept telling herself.
“Cecilia?”
She heard Edward’s voice, coming to her as if through a long tunnel.
“Darling?” He took her hand, then started to rub it. “Are you all right? Your hands are like ice.”
Slowly she came back to the present, blinking as she took in Edward’s worried face.
“You sounded like you were choking,” he said.
She looked at the colonel, who was also regarding her with worry. “I’m sorry,” she said, realizing that the choking sound must have been a sob. “I don’t know what came over me.”