“It’s quite all right,” Colonel Stubbs said, much to Cecilia’s—and by the looks of it, Edward’s—surprise. “You are his wife. It is as God intended that you should put his welfare above all else.”
Cecilia allowed a moment to pass, then asked, “Are you married, Colonel Stubbs?”
“I was,” he said simply, and it was easy to know from his expression what he meant.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
The normally stoic colonel swallowed, and his eyes flashed with pain. “It was many years ago,” he said, “but I think of her every day.”
Impulsively, Cecilia reached out and covered his hand with hers. “I’m sure she knows,” she said.
The colonel gave a jerky nod, then made some sort of huff and puff of a noise as he regained his composure. Cecilia took her hand away; their moment of connection had passed, and anything longer would have been awkward.
“I must be going,” Colonel Stubbs said. He looked at Edward. “I hope you know that I do pray for the return of your memory. And not only because you may possess information that could be crucial to our cause. I do not know what it is like to be missing entire months, but I cannot imagine it sits well within one’s soul.”
Edward acknowledged this with a nod, and then they both stood.
“For what it’s worth, Captain Rokesby,” the colonel continued, “you were sent to Connecticut to gather information about their ports.”
Edward’s brow pulled together. “My cartographical skills are unremarkable.”
“I don’t think anyone was looking for maps, although that would certainly be useful.”
“Colonel?” Cecilia said, coming to her feet. When he turned to look at her she asked, “Was Edward meant to investigate something specific? Or was it more of a general fact-gathering excursion?”
“I’m afraid I cannot say.”
So it was something specific. That certainly made more sense.
“Thank you,” she said politely, and she bobbed into a curtsy.
He tipped his hat. “Ma’am, Captain Rokesby.”
Cecilia watched as Stubbs turned to go, but before he took a step he turned back. “Have you any news of your brother, Mrs. Rokesby?”
“No,” she said. “Major Wilkins has been most helpful, though. He had his man inspect the records at the hospital for me.”
“And?”
“Nothing, I’m afraid. There was no mention of him.”
The colonel nodded slowly. “If anyone would know how to find him, it would be Wilkins.”
“We go to Haarlem soon,” Cecilia said.
“Haarlem?” Stubbs looked over at Edward. “Why?”
“The infirmary,” Edward said. “We know that Thomas was injured. It’s possible he was brought there.”
“But surely he wouldn’t stay.”
“Someone might know of him,” Cecilia said. “It’s worth looking into.”
“Of course.” Colonel Stubbs nodded again, both at her and at Edward. “I wish you good luck with it.”
Cecilia watched him go, turning to Edward the moment the colonel exited to say, “I’m sorry.”
His brows rose.
“I shouldn’t have spoken. It was your place to question him, not mine.”
“Do not be concerned,” Edward said. “I was displeased at first, but you managed to turn the situation around. I had not realized he was a widower.”
“I do not know what made me inquire,” Cecilia confessed.
Edward gave her a smile and took her hand, patting it reassuringly. “Come, let us sit back down and eat. As you said, they do a fine breakfast here.”
Cecilia allowed him to lead her back to the table. She felt strangely shaky, unmoored. Food would help, she hoped. She’d always been the sort who needed a proper breakfast to face the day.
“I must say, though,” Edward mused as he took his seat across from her, “I rather liked having such a staunch champion.”
Cecilia looked up sharply at that. Champion seemed such an undeserved compliment.
“I don’t think you realize just how strong you are,” he said.
She swallowed. “Thank you.”
“Shall we go to Haarlem today?”
“Today?” She snapped to attention. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve been feeling much better. I think I’m up to a journey to the top of the island.”
“Only if you’re certain . . .”
“I’ll arrange for a carriage after breakfast.” He signaled to the innkeeper that they were ready for food, then turned back to her. “Let’s turn our attention to Thomas this morning. Quite honestly, I’m ready to take a break from my own sleuthing. At least for today.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I don’t expect that we will learn anything, but I could not live with myself if we did not at least try.”
“I agree. We should—ah! Bacon.” Edward’s entire face lit up when the innkeeper set a plate of toast and bacon in the center of the table. It was no longer hot, but that made little difference in the face of his now ferocious appetite.
“Honestly,” Edward said, crunching a piece with a decided lack of table manners, “is this not the finest thing you’ve ever tasted?”
“The finest?” she asked doubtfully.
He waved this off. “It’s bacon. How can anything in the world seem bleak when one is eating bacon?”
“An interesting philosophy.”
He gave her a cheeky grin. “It’s working for me right now.”
Cecilia gave in to his humor and reached for a piece of her own. If bacon truly equaled happiness, who was she to argue?
“You know,” she said with a partially full mouth. (If he could dispense with proper table manners, then by heaven, so could she.) “This actually isn’t very good bacon.”
“But you feel better, don’t you?”
Cecilia stopped chewing, tilted her head to the side, and considered this. “You’re right,” she had to admit.
Again with the impertinent smile. “I generally am.”
But as they cheerfully munched through their breakfast, she knew it wasn’t the bacon that was making her happy, it was the man across the table.
If only he was truly hers.
Chapter 13
I normally wait to receive a letter from you before writing my own, but as it has been several weeks since we last heard from you, Edward insists that we take the initiative and begin a missive. There is little to say, though. It is astonishing how much time we spend sitting about doing nothing. Or marching. But I assume you do not wish for a pageful of contemplations on the art and science of marching.
—from Thomas Harcourt to his sister Cecilia
Haarlem was exactly what Edward had expected.
The infirmary was just as rudimentary as Major Wilkins had warned, but thankfully most of the beds were vacant. As it was, Cecilia had been visibly horrified at the conditions.