The Girl with the Make-Believe Husband

Page 36

“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.”

“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.

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