In Lisbon Market

Maggie had felt rather than heard Cotton's late hesitation, and she looked at the officer cautiously before venturing to say, "I've got his uniform here, as a matter of fact, if you want to see it, sir. I've just been mending the jacket."

Cotton didn't think the man had been a scout, but he also didn't think that he had been meant to answer that comment. The officer was a Colonel, and Cotton knew some officers could get very touchy if they thought you were speaking out of turn. He didn't want to risk it.

Though if it got much later, he'd have to help Maggie pack her things away. And he hoped the officer wasn't going to hang around too long; he wanted to make sure she'd be all right.

So - uniform recognition time. And this one was easy: only one Hussar regiment - it was clearly Hussar - had grey with red trim. Despite the woman's care, there was still that faint tinge of blood in patches and spots on the dolman. But now there were concern, and he shook out the jacket, looking at it. "It would have had a name on it - the officer's name. Did you see it, Miss Evans?"

"As a matter of fact I did, sir. I didn't take much notice." She reached across and pulled the jacket open. "Just there, see?"

By now, Edrington was not surprised, but he did wonder how much Padstowe knew. Damn. "He's held in the guard house? Thank you so much Ma'am. Now, coffee, and I'll take some tea, and... No matter. I'll come back for the coffee, by evening, or you can sell it. I'll take the tea though." He waited until he had it in a neat white package, which he pushed into his pocket. "Thank you Rifleman, Ma'am. Sorry to have interrupted."

Captain Padstowe was not going to be pleased to see him again, and this time he, Edrington, had to be far more conciliating.

{OOC - thank you and good night]

[And return to With the 62nd

'Miss'? What sort of an officer called a soldier's woman 'miss'? Yes, the soldier might be dead, but Maggie wasn't Quality, like the girls the officer was plainly used to.

'Miss' and 'Ma'am'? And apologising to them?

Strange of him. He'd bear keeping an eye on.

Maggie exchanged glances with Cotton and shrugged. When they had then exchanged money and goods, she began to pack up the stall, setting aside the coffee in case the colonel should come back.

"Oh, but I'd better hurry up and take that uniform! I hope he ain't missing a fancy dinner or something," she exclaimed. In spite of her earlier protestations against the French, she wanted her own French officer to be well dressed and presentable.


[ooc - good night!]

Cotton stowed his purchases away and began to help her pack up. "Many hands make light work, arter all," he said. "An' we'll be done quicker this way. D'you want me to walk with you?" He was not averse to the idea, but Maggie was her own woman.

"Thank you, Gable," she replied with genuine gratitude. "Yes, that would be kind. You sure you know the way?" she added with a grin.

"I think so, Maggie. Hope you'm feelin' a bit better, now." Crying women always made him feel a bit uncomfortable, but they generally like folks asking how they were, and Cotton did try to be polite, even if it didn't always work out that way.

She stopped smiling at that reminder, but gave him a little nod. Poor boy couldn't be blamed for not knowning when to let it go. Not that he really was a boy - he was older than herself - but men seemed to be perpetual boys. Even soldiers.

"Can't say I'm sorry to leave Lisbon," she said with a grimace as they walked. "Though I wish it were to be goin' home. I don't know when that'll happen."

Perkins was wandering the street looking a little lost when he saw the rifleman and young woman up ahead. He rushed to catch up with them.

"Scuse me, mate. D'ye know where I can find the quartermaster for the 62nd? Or the Medical Corps?"

Cotton turned as he heard a voice behind him. He saw a young lad in the uniform of the 95th, who looked relieved at finding someone he could ask directions of.

"Hello, there," he said. "The 62nd's Quartermaster? Well, if you don't mind tagging along, I'll take you there right after I've seen Maggie here safely home."

"Oh cheers, mate," Perkins said with a relieved grin. "Thought I'd be wanderin' the streets all night. And I don't think my boots would last that long," he added, lifting a foot to demonstrate. "Can I carry any of that, miss?" he offered, turning to Maggie. "If'n we're walkin' the same way."

"Thank you, you can," she replied smartly, unloading her stores into his arms with a laugh. "And you can call me Maggie. None of that 'miss', if you please."

Cotton grinned at the expression on the lad's face as Maggie dumped about half her stuff on the boy. "Don't swamp him, Maggie. Poor lad might change his mind about comin' with us, and go and get really lost."

He turned to the lad. "I'm Gabriel Cotton, by the way. 5/60th Rifles, and batman to Captain Vickery."

"Ben Perkins, 2/95th. I'd offer to shake hands, but...!" as he smiled at the rifleman above his heavy armload. "Cotton, did you say? I think I heard o' ye! Were you the one in the shooting competition with Dan Hagman?"

"Aye, that was me." He grinned as the lad indicated the load that Maggie had put into his arms. "He's a good shot, is Dan Hagman. I really didn't expect to win that."

He juggled with his own load, and hoped Maggie had managed to get a donkey, to carry it all when on the road.

"So you're another one of Mister Sharpe's men, are you?"

"Aye, I'm with Mister Sharpe. And now I really would like to shake your hand! Dan Hagman is a brilliant shot. You must be right well amazing! How long you been a rifleman?"

Cotton grinned at the lad's enthusiasm. "You can shake my hand when we've delivered Maggie and her wares safely home." He paused, thinking a moment before answering Perkin's question. "I been a rifleman for... four years now. No, five years this harvest-time. Much better than bein' a redcoat, I can tell ye. So how long have you worn the green jacket, then?"

"Three years," Perkins replied. "And how long you been in Lisbon? But say, are we nearly there? These boots are killing, and if its much further I need to stop for half a minute."

Maggie laughed at the lad's apologetic grin and took her packages back from his arms. "It's not far, but you go right ahead and do what you need to do."

"No, it's just round the corner and then you can sort your boots out afore we head to the 62nd's QM."

They turned the corner and Cotton let his burden down, careful of breaking anything. "I dunno how you get all this down the market, Maggie, I really don't."

"I use my feminine charms, of course," Maggie replied. "Thank you gentleman very kindly for being my packmules. Oh! And that uniform, can you take it, Gabe? If you're going that way? Thank you!"

"Of course I can, Maggie." Cotton took the bundle and turned to Perkins. "You comin' along-of me? I'll drop this lot off after we've got you sorted out."