After the Skirmish

Newbury balanced two bowls of stew and his mug of tea carefully, picking his way over the rough ground. His mission to deliver one of the bowls to Cotton was a risky one, insofar as he was afraid he might drop one of the bowls or the mug.

"Evenin' sir," Newbury greeted when he saw Captain Vickery. He wasn't able to salute because of what he was carrying, but he squared his shoulders up in an approximation of attention. "Miss Evans, Cotton," he added and held out one of the bowls. "Hunkerin' down for another evenin' in this wonderful countryside?"

"Evenin', sir," Cotton said, twisting round as much as he could and tugging at the peak of his shako in preference to attempting to salute while helping pitch a tent. "Joe, if one of them bowl is for me, just put it down out of the way some'rs afore you drop it."

"Good evening, lads. And lasses. I didn't mean to interrupt anything. Should I come back later?" Vickery was smiling as he spoke; there was no censure in his words.

Grinning, Newbury set one of the bowls down, well out of the way. "Ain't interruptin', sir. Just the evenin' meal trolley rollin' by."

Maggie let out a shaky breath. She was a bit embarrassed to speak to the captain in front of anyone else, but she also did not want to delay her thanks. She stepped closer to him so she might speak quietly, though she was painfully aware that it would make her bruises and cuts more visible in the fading light.

"Captain," she said quietly, dropping her red eyes, "I just want to say... well I know you was the one - you were the one what sent the money, and me donkey..." Why did her speech and her accent become so low when she spoke to an officer? "And - I got them, in Coimbra. And they helped a lot. So... thank you." She looked up at him hesitantly and attempted a smile.

"You're welcome, Miss Evans," Vickery said, taking in the bruises and bloodshot eyes as he looked at her. "I was happy to help, and I only wish I could have done more."

She found her heart was pounding. She still was not used to talking with the captain, Gabe's captain, and she was always afraid she would say the wrong thing and get herself and Cotton in trouble. But at the same time, he was kind, very kind, and if he had not been a gentleman, she felt she would have liked to kiss him on the cheek.

She exhaled. "Thank you. Sorry... I know... I'm sorry if I caused any trouble. For you or Gabe or Joe here - Joe was real helpful and I'm - we were so glad he..." She stopped, uncertain of how much Vickery knew or ought to know. It was obvious that Joe had stayed behind on purpose, and it was also obivous that it wasn't due to his injury. However... "Thank you for letting him stay behind. And for sending that priest, who brought your note and... just, thank you."

"That's quite all right, Maggie," he replied before glancing at the half-erected tent. "I think I shall let you get on with it and come back later. I will only be in your way if I hang around."

She nodded and dipped another curtsey for good measure, feeling relieved to have gotten that speech over with.

Cotton grinned into the tent canvas as Captain Vickery nodded and touched his hat to Maggie before going to find something else to do.

"He don't bite, lass, I promise," he said, turning his head to see her better.

"Not this time anyway," she replied, returning to the task at hand. "Joe, will you pull that end tighter? I need to redo this one now."

Newbury quickly set the mug and his own bowl of stew down so he could do as directed. "Not unless you're one of his lads and do somethin' wrong," he said, chuckling.

She attacked the peg with renewed vigor. "I hope you didn't get in trouble, Joe. This all right now, Gabe?" She examined the stretch of the tent with a critical eye.

"Looks all right to me, anyhow, lass," Cotton said, kicking a little at the bottom of the pole to straighten it up.

She handed him his bowl. "Do you need to get the captain's supper now? Do you have time to eat?"

"Trouble? Nope, not me," Newbury affirmed. No trouble, except from the sawbones. "Grab your stew, Cotton, while it's hot."

Jenny arrived carrying yet another pair of bowls, in time to hear Maggie's words. "I think the captain's eating with the men. He donated some onions and things to their pot. Oh, you've all already got some. Joe?" She gave him a private questioning look.

"'Course I've got time to eat. There's times we'll just put extra in our own pot and he'll have the same. Makes things go further, sometimes, that." He grinned.

"And apparently he's got lots of extra," she answered with a knowing grin. "Lots extra vegetables, at any rate, God bless him."

"Well I'll just go give this extra bowl to Sarah Palmer," Jenny said, giving Newbury another significant look. "Joe, have you seen the Palmers around?"

The Palmers... he had spent half the day wondering how best he might approach the two. Newbury frowned slightly. "No, not yet."

"Well... I'll be back in a bit." She had to give someone the spare bowl anyway. She smiled at Maggie and departed.


[going here]

Cotton looked between Newbury and Jenny curiously, but couldn't work out what was going on between them. "Reckon this here tent'll hold herself up by now?" he said instead.

"I think so. Sit down!" Maggie coaxed, reaching up to tug at his hand.

He grinned, and sat. "Well, looks like it ain't goin' to go, which is a blessin'."