With a careless shrug, she pointedly thanked the innkeeper
'
s wife for her cooperation in the matter of the bath
and the laundry, hoping that Alex would take the point that her activities had
been innocently domestic. If he did, he made no reference to it as he escorted
her to the inn's parlor where the long refectory table was set for supper and
all his officers awaited them.
Ginny steeled herself to an uncomfortable meal in this
company, knowing that they would find her presence constraining. An officers'
mess was no place for a woman, or, at least, not for a woman who had no
services for sale. To her surprise, she found herself the center of attention.
She sat at Alex's right hand; Diccon, as a result of an adroit maneuver, sat on
her other side. The remainder of the company, from the rather austere Major
Bonha
m
down to the youngest and most
insignificant ensign, seemed to vie for her attention, hanging on her every
word. It took her a while to realize what was happening, until she realized
that these men, so long deprived of female company of their own class, were
responding to a woman as they would have done in then-own dining rooms in
happier times.
Ginny, who had never truly learned that a woman's place in
male company was to listen, flatter, and offer only the most uncontroversial
commonplace conversation, began to enjoy herself. She had never been in such a
situation before. At
h
er father's table, she had been the
daughter of the h
ouse
, allowed an unusual amount of
license certainly, but still expected to be very much subservient. At the
C
ourtneys' table, women did not speak at all unless
spoken to, and even men required the tacit permission of the matriarch to reply
for themselves. Now it seemed, she could say whatever she wished and was
attended to in the most flattering manner.
Alex, guessing what was going through her head, was
enormously amused. The commander was also pleased at the happy effect of her
company on his officers, who seemed more relaxed
than
they had done for quite some time. She had the good sense to avoid
politics, he noticed, and she also drank very
little
, placing her hand over her cup when an overzealous Diccon
attempted to press her to take more. Barely nineteen she might be, but
that
pretty head was well screwed onto those determined
shoulders. She would make a most worthy wife one of these days . . . But not
for the likes of Alexander Marshall who intended to play a major role in the
new England, once the fighting was done with and reconstruction could begin.
Such a devoted Royalist would never agree to throw in her lot with a man
ambitious to share in the governing of a land without a monarch.
These dismal reflections drew his eyebrows together in a deep
frown, and conversation round the table faltered. "Some
thing
troubles the colonel, it would seem," Ginny said
boldly.
"
I
beg your pardon?" Alex looked at her sharply. "Why should you say
such a thing?"
"
You
are frowning, sir, in a most fearsome manner
,"
she responded, taking a tiny sip of wine. "You must know how we
all tremble at the merest hint of your displeasure. It has thrown quite a pall
over us, wondering, as we are, who is unlucky enough to have earned your
disfavor."
There was a stunned silence as everyone waited for the
colonel's blistering tongue to lash the perpetrator of this
e
xtraordinary insolence.
Alex carved a slice of sirloin from the joint in front of
him
, then reached for the mustard. "You, as it
happens,
Mi
stress Courtney, were the subject of
my
though
ts," he said ev
e
ntua
ll
y. "And
you are right,
they
were not particularly pleasant
reflections." Calmly, he proceeded to eat his beef, and after a minute or
two conversation picked up again r
ound
the table.
"Am I not to know the content of these reflections,
sir?" Ginny inquired in a quiet and most polite tone.
Alex turned sideways and examined her thoughtfully. Was
m
ischief prompting this persistence? Did she want to
provoke him to a display of anger in front of his officers? Or was it simply
that natural teasing that she seemed so fond of? If that was the case, she
obviously hadn't realized that t
e
asing
a colonel in front of his men was not entirely appropriate. Of course, if he
pointed that out to her, she would just laugh, as he well knew, and accuse him
of being pompous and overly concerned with
h
is
dignity. Perhaps he was.
"I prefer to keep them to myself for the moment,"
he said neutrally. "It is getting late. Do you not think it would be
sensible for you to retire? You've had a long day."
"It is not good to go to bed on a full stomach"
Ginny said. "I would like to have a walk first, if the colonel
permits."
Alex hesitated, and Diccon said eagerly, "I would be
happy to accompany Mistress Courtney, sir."
In spite of himself, Alex smiled, remembering how puppy love
was by turns bewitching and heartrending. "Then do so, Diccon. But don't
keep her overlong from her bed."
Ginny looked at him indignantly. "Colonel, I am quite
capable of deciding for myself when to go to bed. I realize that I am your
prisoner, but your authority cannot extend to such personal matters."
Alex pushed back his chair and stood up. "Come with
me." Taking her by the arm, he ushered her ungently from the room, before
saying with tight-lipped impatience, "I
ha
v
e
told you once, Virginia, you may not
question my authority in public. You have been taking inordinate delight in
provoking me this evening, and I will not have it."
"I have offered the emperor
'
s consequence again," she said scornfully.
"If you think you have the right to tell me when to go to bed in public, I
will tell you in public that you do not have that right, and if your
consequence suffers as a result, then I am sorry for it."
They glared at each other in the narrow passageway, like two
dogs spoiling for a fight. Then Alex sighed. "Why must we always be at
odds in this childish manner?"
"It is your fault," Ginny accused him. "I have
done nothing."
"Except refuse to accept your position."
"And I shall continue to do so. I should tell you,
Colonel, that I am not one of your unfortunate ensigns, and you do not
intimidate me in the least." Ginny punctuated this statement with a short,
firm nod, ignoring the mocking voice of conscience pointing out that that was
not entirely the truth.
"Then perhaps I should do something about that. It seems
to me, my dear Virginia, that you stand in sore need of a little
intimidation." Alex spoke with soft menace, and Ginny stepped backward
involuntarily, coming up against the hard and impenetrable wall at her back.
Alex stepped in front of her; he did not touch her, but he was so close, she
could feel the heat of his body, the warmth of his breath on her cheek.
"
You are going to bed," he said.
"And you are going now! I will give you just one chance to do so on your
own two feet." He stood aside, motioning with his hand to the stairs.
Ginny's heart thudded in her chest, her face flushed with
fury and the mortifying knowledge that she could not defy him, for to do so
would only bring acute humiliation. Head high, she twitched aside her skirts
and marched past him, up the stairs to the little chamber under the eaves.
Alex, instead of returning to the dining room, slammed out of
the inn, furious with himself for that cheap victory
over
a
matter so trivial. She had the power
to get under his
skin
, to nettle him so thoroughly with
her damn challenges
and
her total disregard for his
authority that he found hi
m
s
e
lf
behaving in a manner that made him feel simply rediculous. Neither of them had
come out of that stupid tangle with any dignity, and it had been totally
unnecessary. H
e
was going to have to learn to fight
only the battles that were worth fighting.
Ginny, standing at the little casement looking down on the
darkened stableyard, was having remarkably similar thoughts. Why did they
behave like that? There was more
th
an
enough conflict inherent in their situation without
m
aking mountains out of molehills. It was only his
authoritative manner that drove her to make those ridiculous, unnecessary
challenges, and he could not really help that manner, not after so many years
of command. She was going to have to learn to provoke him only when it would
serve a useful purpose. Now, she was banished abovestairs without having had
the opportunity to talk with the landlady again. If she had simply laughed at
Alex's injunction and gone for a walk with Diccon, it would have been easy
enough to find an excuse to visit the kitchen without him. The aide-de-camp
didn't strike her as at all suspicious by nature.
Disconsolately, Ginny prepared for bed with little hope of
sleeping. It was a warm night, and the heat hung heavy in the airless little
room. Perhaps this was another mistake, and she should have accepted the shared
bed downstairs. If she and Alex hadn't squabbled, she probably would not have
been sleeping in it anyway . . .
The scratching at her door was so faint that for a moment she
was not certain she had heard anything. But it came again, unmistakably.
Slipping to the floor, she crept across the room, and lifted the heavy wooden
latch to open
t
he door a crack. Goodwife Brown stood
outside, a finger to her lips. Silently, Ginny pulled the door wide, and the
woman slipped inside.
" 'Tis madness," she whispered, "under their
very noses, but when the world's gone stark staring mad, what's to be: done? I
had thought you would return to the kitchen before retiring.
''
"I had intended doing so,
"
Ginny replied, with a ruefu
l
smile, "but fell foul of the colonel and found myself
banished."
The innkeeper's wife nodded, then went over to the casement
and stood against the wall, peering down. "There are guards at every
door," she muttered, then suddenly swung round on Ginny. "What
business do you have with the red fox?"
"A message from the king," Ginny said succinctly.
"The innkeeper
'
s wife in Ro
m
sey told me to seek out the red fox. He will help me
deliver it."
"Aye." Goodwife Brown nodded again. "You have
more than your word, mistress?"
Ginny went over to the roll of baggage, felt through it, and
drew out King Charles's document. The goodwife received it with the same
reverence as the landlady at Romsey. "The red fox will bear your message.
You cannot go yourself. If you escape, there will be reprisals, and we'll not
be responsible for causing the suffering of others."
"
You
think Colonel Marshall would punish the town if I were found to be gone?"
Ginny frowned, certain that the woman was wrong.
"Why should he be any different from any of the others?
We'd all be questioned, at the very least."
That much Ginny could believe. "How, then, am I to give
the king's message to the red fox?"
"Tomorrow, at church. When you receive the Host. If you
follow the sidesman, it will be arranged that you are without escort at the
communion rail." The goodwife went to the door, then froze, her hand on
the latch, at the sound of booted feet on the wooden attic stairs.
"The colonel," Ginny breathed, knowing that tread
full well. Her eyes darted around the room, confirming what she already knew.
There was no possible hiding place in the sparsely furnished chamber. They
would have to bluff it out. "My thanks, goodwife," she said loudly,
as the footsteps
hal
ted outside the door. "You have
been most kind."
Goodwife Brown, catching on rapidly, opened the door, saying
over her shoulder, "It was nothing, mistress. I am g
l
ad to hear that you are not indisposed. Oh, Colonel. I
beg pardon, I'm sure." She looked credibly startled at the broad
figure
standing with one hand raised,
clearly about to knock on the door. Before Alex could say anything, however,
she had hurried past him and was moving down the stairs with a light speed that
seemed incongruous with her ample girth.
Alex stepped into the room. "What business did the
g
oodwife have with you?"
"She very kindly came to inquire after me, wondering if
mayhap I was indisposed, having retired so soon after supper. You
understand?" Somehow, she managed to sound still aggrieved, turning back
to the tumbled bed where the twisted sheets bore ample witness
to
her tossings and turnings.