29 May; Recovering

"Aye." Maggie nodded, somewhat relieved that he was so understanding. She stepped down from the ladder again. "Take care of yourself, Joe." And she left him to eat his breakfast in peace.

"Always." His smile was less forced this time. It really was good of her to stop by.

One of the surgeon's assistants brought him his cup of tea and whistled appreciatively at the departing visitor. "Man, you get a lot of women! Didn't take you long to forget about that yellow-haired hussy. Glad you decided not to waste your time. But I thought that one there was with the captain's batman. Women, eh? Always changing their minds!"

Newbury glanced up from the oatcake he had been about to eat, a frown on his face. "That's Missus Cotton, aye. The hell you talkin' of?"

The man held up his hands. "Sorry, man. Didn't mean no offense by it."

Some of the flash of temper was already cooling. "What 'bout that yellow-haired lass, then?"

The man looked at him cautiously. "Didn't mean no offense about her neither. Just - she don't seem too grateful for your bruises and all, throwin' you over like that, so quick."

Grateful? And throwing... what? Newbury had a deepening feeling that he was missing something important, again. Maybe this was what Maggie had been talking about?

"She done what-all now?"

He hesitated. Clearly this was a delicate topic. "She gone off with a guards officer. Sorry, man. Thought you knew."

Newbury's gaze dropped to the oatcake in his hands. Suddenly his appetite had deserted him. He'd expected Jenny to find some place to lay low for awhile - which she'd been doing, even dressed as a boy, or so he'd thought.

"I do now," he muttered, torn between anger and disbelief. A Guards officer? Christ. There was no comparing with that. If it had at least been a regular redcoat, it might have been all right. But no...

"Sorry, man," he said again. "See, you're well shot of her. Don't let her spoil your breakfast."

"Aye..." he shrugged slightly and set the oatcake back into the basket with deliberate care. "Ain't nothin'. 'Bliged to you."

The man nodded and walked away.

A Guards officer. Those three words ran in a constant track around his head, frustrating him with the impossibility they presented. In a way, it was a sensible move, for there were few better to protect someone than an officer and even moreso an officer in that sort of fancy regiment. Newbury couldn't fault her for being practical. That didn't make it any harder to take, though.

He ate the orange and one of the oatcakes without really tasting either, then set the basket carefully aside so he might not accidentally knock it over in his sleep. The past couple of days had really been packed with unpleasant events, hadn't they? And it just kept getting better. Newbury blew out a long sigh and called for the surgeon. Some more laudanum was in order, even though the pain was already well-dulled. It would be better, he reasoned, to simply go back to sleep and let the rest of the day pass unseen. Hopefully everything would be better in the evening when the army stopped again.