Hospital of Santa Clara, Coimbra

"Morning." Jenny got up from the bed and came into the entry hall to pour him some tea. "Look at that!" Bread and cheese! She was ready to devour them both, wondering how he had got them. Surely all their money was still on the table. "Here. Did you shoot these yourself?"

Newbury accepted the tea gratefully. "No. Well. Nearly had to bayonet the cheese to stop it running off, but didn't have to shoot 'em."

"Well you're an angel. Do you have a knife? Oh never mind, just break it and give me some, quick!"

He blushed at the praise. His fingers fumbled with the bread for a moment until he managed to split the loaf in half. For the cheese, he fished out his folding knife and carefully cut the wedge into slices.

"Almost a king's breakfast, this," he muttered.

"You're king enough for me," Jenny said, seizing a piece of the cheese. "This is my breakfast, dinner and supper for yesterday too. Today is already starting off better than that. And tomorrow... tomorrow you'll be leaving so there will be no more shooting breakfasts. I may have to go a-begging. Or have a sudden injury and need to be hospitalized with Maggie. At least they feed her there." She paused in her speech to eat a mouthful of bread, and then said more seriously, "I really don't know how we'll get all the way to Lisbon, though. I mean what we'll do for food. How long do you think it will take, walking?"

His blush darkened and he busied himself with breaking up his half of the bread. King enough...

"Could stay later than Saturday," he said, after swallowing a hunk of bread. "Til you're both ready to go off wherever you're goin'. It won't be a short walk back to Lisbon, neither. Took us... a week to march this far."

Newbury thought it was better if they both went back to the army, but Jenny's previous reactions to that question kept him from asking.

"Joe, you can't stay later than Saturday. What would they do to you? You could be - you would be taken for a deserter."

She was right but he was willing to risk it. He had been relieved to get Captain Vickery's permission ticket, of course, but...

"Ain't right, leaving you two alone," Newbury protested.

She touched his arm and looked at him with sincerity. "You've been more than kind already, Joe. But it's also not right for you to stay here if it means risking your life - and not for a brave or glorious death, but they'd hang you."

And again, she was right, much as he hated to admit. Newbury forced a shrug and set down his portion of barely-touched bread. Somehow he wasn't so hungry any more.

"Oughta go see how Miss Evans is doing?" He asked, not knowing how else to change the subject. He headed toward the door without really waiting for an answer, with his rifle slung from one shoulder. In truth, he was torn between staying with the two women and leaving to make it back to the column before he was honestly missed.

"Let me just grab my things. I don't think we should leave anything behind, just in case someone comes to the house." She grabbed her own piece of bread and devoured it as she stuffed her sewing back into her pack. She grabbed his bread and handed it back to him. "Put it in your pocket for later. You'll want it."


[Continuing here.]