as the questions crowded her mind, each inquiry bringing her closer to tears.
Everything hinged on remembering the father of her child. If she could do that, then she could unravel the rest of this impenetrable web and finally see a glimmer of light. He was at the center of everything, but she couldn’t conjure up even a twinge of emotion or put a name to her feelings for him. Surely if she had loved him, she’d feel a deep sorrow, an instinctive sense of loss, even if she couldn’t envision his face. How was it possible to draw a complete blank when it came to the most important person in her life?
“How far away are we from the theater?” Jocelyn asked, tearing her mind away from the futile questions that threatened to overwhelm her.
“Not that far. It’s just down John Street, to the right.”
She peered down the length of the street as the cart laboriously turned the corner, hoping against hope she’d recognize the theater. Derek stopped in front of a squat brick building and turned to her, clearly expecting a reaction.
“This doesn’t look much like a theater,” Jocelyn said, deeply disappointed by the factory-like appearance of the place and her failure to recognize it.
“I think it was a brewery before it became a theater.”
Jocelyn wrinkled her nose. She’d imagined red velvet curtains and gilded balconies filled with beautifully dressed people who’d come to see a professionally mounted performance. This place probably boasted a makeshift stage and wooden benches.
“What was it like inside?” she asked.
“Not very impressive, I’m afraid. But the quality of the acting was top notch,” Derek assured her. “Does it look familiar?” he asked, his voice filled with hope.
Jocelyn shook her head. “No.”
“Have you been able to recall anything at all?” Derek asked as the cart moved away from the shut-up theater.
She’d experienced several flashbacks in the past few weeks, but they had all been scenes of ordinary life: kneading bread, washing linen, shopping for produce, walking with a basket slung over her arm, but she hadn’t seen anyone’s faces clearly. It was as if she had been completely alone, going about her life in a city full of people without truly belonging to anyone.
“Not anything that matters,” Jocelyn replied miserably. “Where to now?”
“There’s a tavern not far from here. Let’s get something to eat and then we’ll continue our tour of the city,” Derek suggested.
“All right.”
Ned’s Ale House was crowded. Derek found them a table in the corner and went up to the bar to order a drink—a tankard of ale for himself and a half-pint of cider for Jocelyn. She was hungry and tired, not having slept well last night in anticipation of today’s journey. As soon as Derek returned to the table, she took a long sip of cider, then excused herself to go to the necessary before ordering the food. Weaving through the crowd of mostly men, Jocelyn made her way toward the back door of the building. She was just about to push it open when the blue-eyed soldier she’d seen earlier stepped into her path, his back blocking her from Derek’s view.
“Good day, mistress,” he said, smiling down at her.
“Eh, good day,” Jocelyn replied. “Please excuse me.”
“Don’t you remember me?”
“I’m afraid I don’t,” she replied, wondering if she’d really met him in the past or he was just trying it on with her.
“It’s Robert. Robert Sykes.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Sykes, but you mistake me for someone else.”
He gave her an odd look but took a step back. “I’m sorry to have troubled you, ma’am.” He gave her a curt bow and allowed her to pass.
Jocelyn stepped out into the yard and hurried toward the privy, hoping the soldier wouldn’t follow her outside, where she’d be defenseless. Finishing her business in record time, thanks to the eye-watering stench inside the tiny outhouse, she returned to the dining room and made her way toward the table and Derek.
“Come have a drink with us, darlin’,” a handsome young soldier beckoned as she passed the bar. “Got a face like a thundercloud, yer man. We’ll show ye a better time,” he joked. His friend winked at her, and she couldn’t help smiling. They were just having a bit of fun.
“Do you know that man?” Derek asked, his narrowed gaze fixed on the soldier who’d invited her for a drink.
“No. He was just being cheeky.”
“Let’s get some food. I’m famished.”
“What’s good here?” Jocelyn asked.
“Roast beef and potatoes and turkey with chestnut stuffing. They serve it with cranberry