this worrying repartee.
“I’m not completely without charms, you know,” Captain Denning said, smiling down at her. She wondered how he managed to look so cool in his wool tunic. Her curls were limp, and there were embarrassing stains beneath her arms. The backs of her knees were moist with perspiration beneath her petticoats and the clinging cotton of her stockings, and she would have sold her soul for a cool drink.
“I never said you were, but I would ask you to respect my decision.”
“As you wish,” the captain said, and bowed to her stiffly. “Enjoy your afternoon, Mistress Sinclair.”
“I will.”
She watched as he walked away, his back straight and his red tunic like a bloody gash among the evergreens of the graveyard. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? She’d hoped the major might ask for a replacement, but he seemed pleased with the captain’s work and appeared to be a lot more forthcoming with him than he had ever been with Captain Palmer. Perhaps he responded to the captain’s brash and confident manner. Captain Denning never seemed to feel the slightest embarrassment, indecision, or regret.
He’s not human, Jocelyn concluded as she followed Major Radcliffe through the graveyard and toward the street. Mrs. Johnson fell into step with her. Her cheeks were red as apples, and she was perspiring freely in her black woolen gown.
“He’s a handsome devil,” she said wistfully.
“Who? The major?” Jocelyn asked. Mrs. Johnson was always friendly and kind, but she rarely made comments of a personal nature.
“The major is a handsome man, to be sure, but it was Captain Denning I was referring to. Why, if I were twenty years younger, I’d not let a man like that get away.”
Jocelyn stopped and stared at the woman, snapping her mouth shut when she realized it was hanging open.
Mrs. Johnson laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Do you think I was never young, Jocelyn?” she asked. “When I was a girl, the sight of a red tunic and beautiful eyes could always set my heart aflutter.”
“Was your husband a soldier, Mrs. Johnson?” Jocelyn asked.
“Indeed, he was, and I paid for it dearly,” Mrs. Johnson replied, her smile fading. “I lost my William less than two years after we were married. Didn’t even leave me a child to love.” She sighed. “Killed at the Battle of the Monongahela in fifty-five.”
“Did you never want to remarry?” Jocelyn asked, wondering if that was an indelicate question.
“I thought I might, in time, but my heart never let go. Every time a man showed an interest in me, I compared him to my William and found him lacking. And then, before I knew it, I was an old woman.”
“I’m sorry,” Jocelyn said.
“So am I. Don’t miss your chance at happiness, Jocelyn. Life only gives us a handful of opportunities; seize yours when it comes your way.”
“Are you saying Captain Denning is my opportunity?” Jocelyn asked, surprised by the turn the conversation had taken.
“I’m saying that you’re a lovely young woman who’s got her pick of admirers. The major isn’t indifferent to you either. It’s not his way to pursue a woman aggressively, but he’s smitten with you, the poor man.”
“How long have you worked for him?” Jocelyn asked, surprised that Mrs. Johnson seemed to know so much about the major’s feelings.
“I’ve been with him for more than three years now. Follow him wherever he goes, and he rewards my loyalty. I’ll have a comfortable life once I’m ready to stop working.”
“Where will you go?”
“I have a sister who lives near Philadelphia. I reckon I’ll go to her. I’m not overly fond of her husband, but I’ve got years yet. He may be good and dead by then,” Mrs. Johnson joked. Jocelyn didn’t think it was particularly funny to wish one’s sister’s husband dead, but then people became selfish in their loneliness. She could see how Mrs. Johnson might not want to share her sister.
Perhaps Captain Denning is just lonely, Jocelyn thought as she followed Mrs. Johnson into the kitchen once they arrived back at the house. She helped herself to a cup of ale and fanned her face with an old newspaper until she finally felt a little cooler. She had no great desire to go walking with Thomas, but he’d be waiting for her, and she had a few important tidbits to share with him this week.
Chapter 49
“Captain Denning worries me,” Jocelyn said. She had relayed the conversation with the captain to Thomas as they strolled along the Hudson River, trying