In and out of Coimbra

"Oh." Recovering from her surprise, relief and disappointment, she was bewildered and at a loss for words. Why was Newbury here? What had Jenny told him? What about Gabe - did he already know everything? She looked at them both apprehensively and slid lower into her bed.

Newbury felt stupid.

"Cotton wanted to keep lookin' for you," he said, not knowing how else to respond. "But Cap'n Vickery only gave him a little time for that, before he had to be back. Proper tore up, he is."

Now that he'd found her, he had no idea what he should do next.

Jenny gave him a sharp look. She had explained everything, or enough of what she thought he should know, as they had walked through the street. But he would go and stare without having anything helpful to say.

"Joe thought you would want to go back to the company, but I explained to him that... you wanted to stay here for a while," she said delicately. Maggie gave her a doleful look but nodded. "And I took your note. I gave it to Owen Williams. And he said he'd give it to Cotton later, when they take a rest." Maggie had been clear on that point. Any earlier and Cotton would be sure to return to town looking for her.

What was he supposed to do now? Newbury looked down at the floor for a moment.

"Don't s'pose you're up to goin' back to the column," he muttered lamely. "I'll sit outside, like. 'Til you're better."

Maggie looked appalled and ready to cry. Jenny gave Newbury a scandalized glare. Men! "Never mind that now, dear. You just rest for now and we'll worry about all of that later. You don't have to think about it now. Joe and I will go outside. And look! I brought you some strawberries." As if strawberries could fix so great a catastrophe in a woman's life. Maggie nodded in acknowledgement and stared at the basket of berries as Jenny ushered Newbury out of the room. As soon as the door was shut, she turned on him.

"Joe, she doesn't want to go back to the column! She doesn't even want to think of going back there! She thinks this is all her fault, just for being a woman in the midst of a heaving pack of bastard swine soldiers who are men." She had kept her demeanor calm and reassuring for Maggie, but now her rage threatened to boil over. As the only present representative of the male sex, Newbury was close to becoming the target of her rage.

What had he said? Newbury was confused again and he stared at Jenny in barely-disguised distress. "What's all her fault? What about Cotton? Safest place to be is with the Rifles, I'd thought."

But apparently he was wrong there. This whole mess was sign enough of that. Grimacing, he turned away and. unslinging his rifle, slumped down against the wall. If she wasn't going back to the company, neither was he.

"Safe?" Jenny cried. Then she caught herself and lowered her voice. "Safe? No one is safe, no woman is safe, not with the rifles or anyone else in that army." She stared at Newbury a moment, shaking her head and wondering if he actually was feeble-minded. But what about Cotton? She understood Maggie's feelings, her desire to hide away like an injured animal crawling into a cave to nurse its wounds. A weary and tired tone took over her voice, the rage leaving her empty as it dissipated. "I don't know. I don't know." She sat on the floor next to Newbury. "I don't know."

Bewildered by Jenny's comments, Newbury kept his gaze on the barrel fo his rifle, which rested across his knees. It was true enough, nobody was safe, not from that... he scowled and shook his head.

"Be here awhile, won't she," he said after a moment. It wasn't really a question. Days, probably. He'd have to get word to Cotton somehow.

"Yes. And then we're going to go back to Lisbon. Or somewhere that English ships are leaving this God-forsaken place. And we'll go home." She looked at Newbury wearily. The poor man was trying. He was a good man, really. "You should go. Catch up with the column. You can tell Cotton whatever you will, but Maggie doesn't want..." She trailed off.

"I'd rather stay," he said, unable to keep from feeling defeated. He didn't know what else he could do, especially if they were serious about going back to Lisbon and back to England. Though precisely why they would want to do that was beyond him. What was back in England worth going to?

"Who knows," Newbury added lamely after a moment. "Cotton might come back lookin' himself."

"I know. But... Maggie doesn't want him. I mean, she doesn't want..." How to explain it? The shame and guilt and sickened emptiness, the desire to be shut away from everyone and everything. Her reputation destroyed. But Maggie would do better than her. They would go to England, go to some place together and make a new start where no one knew them, either of them. "She doesn't want everyone to know. Looking at her like it's happening all over again, in their minds, blaming her. I shouldn't have brought you; she didn't want anyone to see her like that. I shouldn't have brought you." Her eyes were filling up with tears now.

Newbury frowned.

"She don't... well then she don't have to go back so soon. Better not to travel too far anyhow." He scowled at his rifle and tried to keep a hurt expression off his face. Like it or not, both women were part of the company and he felt responsible for them, having found out what had happened.

"If it weren't me who'd been brought, or found you, it'd probably not be good. You're talkin' for her an awful lot, and none of it sounds like anythin' she'd say in her normal state. I'm here and I'm stayin' here."

Jenny looked at him indignantly for a moment, but she was too tired to stay indignant for long. She became dismissive instead and answered only the last part of his speech. "She's not in her normal state." Idiot.

"Then I s'pose she ain't fit to decide where she goes next," Newbury said, a little more curtly than he intended. Really. It wasn't that difficult a concept to him. No matter who decided to talk for her, Miss Evans wasn't fit to go anywhere.

That made some sense, at least. "I suppose." She stood up and pretended to look out a window, wiping a hand across her face in a gesture that she hoped would look like weariness rather than tears. "I think... I'll go in and sit with her." And more than likely sleep, even on that severe wooden chair. Truth to tell, she was exhausted. "You do what you want."

Fine. Newbury simply shrugged and let his head rest back against the wall. Odds were that he'd fall asleep if he sat there long enough. That wouldn't be so bad, really. He'd wake up if anybody tried to get past him to Miss Evans' room.

Sighing, Newbury stretched his legs out and winced at the jab of pain in his side. He had almost forgotten about his still-healing wound.

Jenny gave him a miniscule smile, poor man, before she slipped into the room and quietly closed the door behind her.


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