The Captain's Beloved

8 - Submitting to Interrogations

It was difficult to keep the smile off my face as I sat with Captain Thompson in the infirmary. His fever had not returned, and his vision had improved. Although he still suffered from topical pain caused by his skin condition, his memory appeared sharp as a horsewhip.

"You broke my heart, you know that?" Jules expressed his grief openly, giving no regard to the men listening to our conversation, including his cot mate, who behaved as if this was his love affair.

"It's true," Hugo said. "I have never seen Jules so distracted. Before you, boxing was his passion."

I glared at Hugo, but it did no good. He just grinned like a goon. "You're not being fair, Captain. There is more at stake here than your heart."

This had Jules puckering his lips, and the sudden urge to kiss those lips almost compelled me to behave inappropriately. "How could you know what it's like to be a man. If you did, you would know it is not in our nature to pronounce our feelings willy nilly."

I blinked at his admission. It was incredibly vulnerable of him to speak his truth in front of his mates. "I am not a man, of course, but I have spent enough time around them to empathize. And I understand the difficult position you're in. In fact, we are both in difficult positions."

"I agree. Yet, something brought you here. You must believe there is hope." He wore a look I could not describe. It may have been this hope he spoke of, and it may have been dread.

"Damned right there's hope!" Hugo's commandment had everyone within earshot blinking in his direction. "We may look like we only care about ourselves, but I have yet to meet a man who did not wish for a woman who understood him."

This produced a round of "Ayes", and I watched the men speak to each other as news of our intimate conversation spread.

"There is always a way forward, Jules. What is life but a series of complications to be worked out. If happiness came easy, it would not be so precious."

I spoke loud enough for my voice to carry through the infirmary, provoking another round of "Ayes", and a pronounced smirk appeared on Jules's face. "You have made that abundantly clear to me, Mistress Hayes. Although, I'm not sure how comfortable I am with carrying the weight of such lofty expectations."

"But imagine the accolades you would garner for your efforts," I said plainly. "You could lead the charge for others. What man would not want the ardent support and admiration of thousands of English women?"

This time, my sentiment prompted buoyant laughter. Perhaps, I did not know men as well as I thought.

"You have yourself a real dreamer, Jules!" Hugo sputtered out his comment between guffaws. I turned and yanked his bed linens up over his head. This brought on even more laughter, and Matron Orwell appeared a moment later at the foot of Hugo's bed, hands on hips, looking all possessed.