In and out of Coimbra

Jenny arrived breathlessly and scanned the makeshift parade grounds where the men were gathered to begin the morning's march. Who to trust? If that sweet Micheal Carty were around, he would have been perfect. Where was he? Where were the 95th? There was Joe Cavender hurrying to join the 60th, but he was too close to Gabriel Cotton. Probably no one in the 60th would do. Jenny cursed under her breath as she scanned the crowd.

The 5th of Foot - the newcomers to their Division, even if the oldest of the regiments represented, were used to this, and lined up without a hitch. They even had a girl on a pony to watch them. Williams, in the Light Company at the front of the 3/27th had an eye for the crowd, and saw Jenny Ross, Maggie's friend, who had looked after her...

He gave a piercing whistle, then looked blandly at the Corporal. "Just one second.... "

Jenny barely registered the whistle, being so accustomed to hearing them all day long, everywhere she went. But she recognized the man, Private Williams who had seemed friendly with Cotton and Maggie with the whole trial and flogging. She rushed over to speak to him.

"Private Williams, isn't it?" she asked, looking up at him anxiously.

"And you're Jenny, and what can I do for a fine girl like you." Williams did not move out of his place, but he wasn't averse to being seen with a pretty girl...

She did not spare him a smile at all, but she stared up at him with an unusual seriousness in her blue eyes, their color enhanced by the redness around them. "Will you give this to Gabriel Cotton?" she asked, holding out a piece of paper. "Not now - later. When you stop for a rest. Please?"

Williams frowned at her. Gabe Cotton was learning to read, but she shouldn't be writing him love letters. "It's from you?" he asked. "Not that it's my concern, but you will have to watch out for that Maggie..."

She opened her mouth to answer, but she hesitated a moment, shifting impatiently. "Yes, it's from me. Will you give it to him?"

"I will do so. First rest break, if I can. If he isn't sent off to the flanks." He looked at her, noticing the redness round her eyes. That could mean anything, but one thing it could mean would be a disaster from Cotton and Maggie. "Don't ... If you need help, I might be able to. Not saying I could, look you." Which might earn him a favour, later. "I'll do it, don't worry, Jenny lass."

"Thank you. Just give him the note, that's all. Later. Thank you." There was some relief in her eyes, but she immediately began looking around, rushed and distracted. "Thank you, Williams. Good bye."

"It's Owen, Owen Williams." He watched her go, puzzled and worried. This was going to cause Cotton a fair amount of trouble, he was sure. The Corporal had to nudge him to get him to straighten up again, with the note tucked inside a book in his pack.

Jenny dodged past the other people she knew, carefully avoiding them or pretending not to hear when they called her name. She spoke briefly to her friend Eliza Kane before heading back into town towards the church.

There were definitely too many places for a woman to disappear to, Newbury thought. He had walked down nearly every street and alley surrounding the market square, checking every place he could think where somebody might be able to hide. Where the devil could Miss Evans have gone?

"This is bloody hopeless," he muttered to himself, pulling his shako off to run a hand back through his hair. It might be bloody hopeless but he wasn't going to try catching up to the army until he had gone down every last street. If only it wasn't so hot.

Jenny had nearly reached the convent when she caught sight of a rifleman coming down the street. She thought for a moment that it was Cotton, but it was only Joe Newbury. What was he doing still in town? Feeling aprehensive, she ducked into the nearest shop, a stationers.

There were still few enough people on the street that it was possible to spot the flash of a vaguely-familiar face, just before a portly local moved to block his line of sight. Newbury frowned; that looked like Jenny Ross. What was she doing in town still?

Might's well find out. He pushed his shako back a bit on his head and headed toward the shop Jenny had gone into.

"That you, Jenny?" Newbury asked, cautiously entering the shop.

Well so much for that tactic. Jenny pretended to be absorbed in examining a ledger, flipping the pages and studying the spine. "Oh, hello, Joe dear. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be marching?"

Her eyes looked red. Newbury's frown deepened. Reddened eyes usually meant crying, or something close to it.

"Should be," he said. "I'm lookin' for Miss Evans instead, though. Ain't seen her, have you? Cotton's worried sick."

Her face was immediately guarded and sober. "I - I'm staying with her in Coimbra. But you should go before you're missed. You'll get into trouble."

They were both staying in Coimbra? That couldn't be right. "Army's already movin', they ain't gonna miss me," Newbury told her. He peered at her in undisguised confusion. "What's Miss Evans doin' stayin' behind, I'd've figgered she'd rather stay with Cotton?"

Jenny's frown bore a touch of defiance. "Well she's staying in Coimbra. But of course they're going to miss you, and they'll say you've deserted. You should hurry and catch up with them. Unless you have deserted."

That really couldn't be right.

"Why'n't she tell Cotton she was stayin'? He almost stayed behind hisself, for not knowin' where she'd got to." Newbury looked back out through the shop window, wondering where this 'convent' was at. "I ain't deserted, but I'd do it if it meant makin' sure Miss Evans is all right and gets back to the company, where she oughta be. Not like her, up and goin' off like she done."

"She sent him a note," Jenny said defensively. "He just... hasn't read it yet. She'll be all right. I'm here taking care of her, aren't I? She doesn't want to go back to the company."

Newbury shook his head. That didn't sound like Miss Evans at all.

"I don't believe that a bit. Where's she gone to, not like her to leave Cotton like that, without sayin' somethin' to him direct."

Jenny continued to frown, but she noticed that the shopkeeper was staring. It was obvious that neither of these customers was going to buy anything. She flashed him a smile as she took Newbury's arm and led him outside. "Come on. Let's not talk about it here."

Maggie was not asleep in the gloom, lying under the blankets. They were comforting. It seemed like years since she had slept in a bed - but even now, she was not sleeping in this one.

She could hear voices downstairs. One of the sisters and a more familiar woman's voice. She realized with relief that Jenny was back from delivering the note. But there was a man's voice too. A man with Jenny. Walking up the stairs. Coming to her room. Standing outside her door.

By now she was sitting up, the blankets clutched to her neck, and she jumped when he knocked on the door, her heart pounding. It was Jenny's sweet face that looked in, asking her something, but Maggie could just glimpse the man behind her. With simultaneous dismay and relief, she saw his rifle green and red.

"Gabe?"

"Er..." Newbury let her lead him outside and down the street, despite feeling more confused by her unwillingness to tell him just what the hell was going on.

In only a few minutes, they seemed to have gotten to the place Maggie was staying at. Newbury was annoyed with himself; he wouldn't have thought to check a place like this if he'd been left to search on his own.

It wasn't a surprise that she'd ask for Cotton immediately upon seeing his uniform. Newbury tried to smile. "No miss, it's Newbury." It wasn't, perhaps, the most reassuring thing to say but he didn't know what else to say.