“Yes?”
“Whether you believe me or not, I cannot go back there.”
“I know.” Did she think him scoundrel enough to force her back again against her wishes? “As for believing, I hardly know anything anymore.”
They settled into silence, with Eliza reclining on the bed and Felton leaning against the door, until finally the curly-haired boy delivered their food.
When Felton resituated against the door, Eliza pulled the wobbly chair in front of him, then sank to the floor. “Our table.” She settled her plate on the edge of the chair seat and something of a gleam touched her eyes.
He did the same. They prayed, then started in on the warm collop, the chopped carrots, and the chunk of coarse bread and butter. The hunger pains slowly faded as he devoured the meal.
“Your chin.” With lips curved enough they might have been smiling, she pretended to wipe something from her face.
He mimicked her movements and wiped butter away with his finger. “I must be eating like quite the pauper.”
“You look quite the pauper.”
A laugh rumbled out. Silly, that he should laugh—or that she should laugh with him.
But she did. How startlingly the sound filled the chamber and chased away a thousand burdens. Was there ever a nicer sound? Was there ever anything more wonderful? Or healing? Or…so very, very beautiful?
Her cheeks colored, as if she knew his thoughts. She bit the edge of her lip and shook her head. “I should not have…have …”
“Been happy a moment?” He forked a strip of collop. “I think you should have. I think you should always be.”
“But Captain—”
“Would have wanted that.”
“You do not understand.”
“Don’t I?”
She bent her head. She lifted her fork again and forked more carrots, but tears dripped onto her plate.
How easy it would be to reach over the chair and stroke away her tears. ’Twould do no good though. She cried for the same reason he’d run to his path, and slammed his fists into the wall, and hid his face from all the world.
“Felton?”
“Hmm?”
“When do you leave?”
“Leave?”
She never looked up. More tears dotted her plate. “You need not worry for me. Captain taught me more than you think. I am not so very inept, and if you leave in the morning—”
“Leave?” His pulse quickened. “You think I intend to leave you here?”
“Where else,” she whispered, raising her eyes, “might I be left?”
“Your opinion of me must be very small.”
“No, Felton, I—”
“I would no sooner leave you here alone, with or without those men trying to injure you, then I would…I would …” He would have jumped to his feet and put distance between them had the chair not trapped his legs.
Her chin quivered. “Then you would what?”
