wine to fortify myself against this conversation,” Laurence said ruefully.
Thankfully, Temeraire was satisfied with some further explanation of what the theater and concerts might be, and the other attractions of a city; he turned his attention willingly to a discussion of the planned route for their patrol, which a runner had brought over that morning, and even inquired about the possibility of catching some fish for dinner. Laurence was glad to see him so recovered in spirit after the previous day’s misfortunes, and had just decided that he would take Roland to the town after all, if Temeraire did not object, when he saw her returning in the company of another captain: a woman.
He had been sitting upon Temeraire’s foreleg in what he was abruptly conscious was a state of disarray; he hurriedly climbed down on the far side so that he was briefly hidden by Temeraire’s body. There was no time to put back his coat, which was hung over a tree limb some distance away in any case, but he tucked his shirt back into his trousers and tied his neckcloth hastily back round his neck.
He came around to make his bow, and nearly stumbled as he saw her clearly; she was not unhandsome, but her face was marred badly by a scar that could only have been made by a sword; the left eye drooped a little at the corner where the blade had just missed it, and the flesh was drawn along an angry red line all the way down her face, fading to a thinner white scar along her neck. She was his own age, or perhaps a little older; the scar made it difficult to tell, but in any case she wore the triple bars which marked her as a senior captain, and a small gold medal of the Nile in her lapel.
“Laurence, is it?” she said, without waiting for any sort of introduction, while he was still busy striving to conceal his surprise. “I am Jane Roland, Excidium’s captain; I would take it as a personal favor if I might have Emily for the evening—if she can possibly be spared.” She glanced pointedly at the idle cadets and ensigns; her tone was sarcastic, and she was clearly offended.
“I beg your pardon,” Laurence said, realizing his mistake. “I had thought she wanted liberty to visit the town; I did not realize—” And here he barely caught himself; he was quite sure they were mother and daughter, not only because of the shared name but also a certain similarity of feature and expression, but he could not simply make the assumption. “Certainly you may have her,” he finished instead.
Hearing his explanation, Captain Roland unbent at once. “Ha! I see, what mischief you must have imagined her getting into,” she said; her laugh was curiously hearty and unfeminine. “Well, I promise I shan’t let her run wild, and to have her back by eight o’clock. Thank you; Excidium and I have not seen her in almost a year, and we are in danger of forgetting what she looks like.”
Laurence bowed and saw them off; Roland hurrying to keep up with her mother’s long, mannish stride, speaking the whole time in obvious excitement and enthusiasm, and waving her hand towards her friends as she went away. Watching them go, Laurence felt a little foolish; he had at last grown used to Captain Harcourt, and should have been able to draw the natural conclusion. Excidium was after all another Longwing; presumably he too insisted on a female captain just as did Lily, and with his many years of service, his captain could scarcely have avoided battle. Yet Laurence had to own he was surprised, and not a little shocked, to see a woman so cut about and so forward; Harcourt, his only other example of a female captain, was by no means missish, but she was still quite young and conscious of her early promotion, which perhaps made her less assured.
With the subject of marriage so fresh in his mind after his discussion with Temeraire, he also could not help wondering about Emily’s father; if marriage was an awkward proposition for a male aviator, it seemed nearly inconceivable for a female one. The only thing he could imagine was that Emily was natural-born, and as soon as the idea occurred to him he scolded himself to be entertaining such thoughts about a perfectly respectable woman he had just met.
But his involuntary guess proved entirely correct, in the event.