Willa wondered how the other men in the obviously fierce fight on Gibraltar had fared. She would not want to have to treat their injuries, based on the state of Cullen’s fists.
Much later, she left the surgery and made her way to the marine officers’ mess to seek out Sergeant Claridge. She meant to demand every last detail of what had happened to Cullen…and where they’d found him.
Marine Sergeant Claridge raised his head at the sound of Willa walking toward the table he shared with the other officers in their mess. They’d apparently recently finished a hasty supper, their dirty plates and cups still stacked at the end of the table.
Her voice came out sounding too small in the large gunners’ part of the lower deck. The cannons were rolled back and latched down, the gun ports dark with their hinged coverings closed. The officers’ mess routinely ate off a table hinged between two guns and pulled down only for meals or card games. Absolutely everything on a Royal Navy ship was temporary so that the decks could literally be cleared for action. Even the small cabins of lower officers, including hers and Cullen’s, would have the partitions removed and stowed. Only the guns mattered during battle.
When there were lots of casualties, the whole cockpit area on the lower deck would be cleared to receive wounded men for amputations and bone-setting when possible.
Willa repeated her request, more loudly this time. “Who can tell me what happened today? Where did you find Dr. MacCloud? And does anyone know how he came to be beaten?” Finally, she sat down hard on a bench and buried her head in her hands. “Do we know who did this or why?”
“I do not have the authority to tell you without the permission of my captain and the ship’s captain.” Sergeant Claridge rose and came to her side, helped her to her feet and escorted her toward the top deck. Before they left, he motioned to one of his fellow officers to have their leader join them in Captain Still’s cabin.
Once they were clear of the lower deck and ascending toward the hatch opening, she turned to him and grasped one of his lapels. “Please, if you know, I must know before we go before the captain.”
“Mrs. MacCloud, you put me in a difficult place.” He stopped abruptly and lowered his head as if to muffle their conversation.
“I have to know. Was he…was he with Mrs. de Santis when you found him?”
The sergeant gave her an incredulous and then pitying look in the half light of the passageway. “I can assure you he was not. I can also tell you as a man who loves his wife and recognizes that same regard in another man, be content in the knowledge that you alone hold your husband’s regard.”
They stopped outside Captain Still’s cabin, and he tapped on the door. In spite of Sergeant Claridge’s kind assurances, bitter doubt still niggled at Willa’s senses and slid down her throat like a foul-tasting tonic.
Captain Still opened the door in his shirtsleeves. She could see several candles glowing on a side table and a book lying face-down on a comfortable, stuffed chair.
“I’m sorry, sir, to interrupt your evening, but Mrs. MacCloud is unsettled about the details of her husband’s attack.”
“Of course.” He motioned them in to the large table where charts were neatly stacked. Once they were seated, there was another tap at the door to the quarters. “Come.” Captain Still urged the newcomer to join them.
Sergeant Claridge’s commanding officer, Marine Captain John Woodall, ducked his head and came through the entryway.
Once they all sat at the table, there was a long, awkward silence. Willa suddenly felt more alone than in all her time with the Royal Navy. She didn’t want their pity, she wanted the truth, but she knew they probably would not give it to her. She was a woman. A sudden vision of Wills’ clothes neatly folded in her sea chest gave her courage and made her smile.
Captain Still extended a hand toward Marine Captain Woodall in a signal to begin the story.
“My men went to the governor’s house to see if anyone had information on where Dr. MacCloud might be. But when they got there, the lieutenant in charge of the garrison told us they’d found a naval officer assaulted and left at the cemetery outside the north city gates. They were about to send out messengers to the ships anchored in the bay to see if anyone had a missing officer.”
Captain Still interrupted Woodall. “I’m sorry, Mrs. MacCloud, but we’ve not been able to find anyone who knows what happened to your husband. And we have to set sail with the tide in the morning. Has the doctor awakened yet?”
“No.” Willa bowed her head before snapping back up to address the three men. “I cannot believe a man could endure such a vicious attack without anyone hearing or seeing anything. The island is not that big. Surely someone knows something.”
Captain Still spoke for all of them. “There have been some civil disturbances in Spain since the peace agreement. But you know as well as I do, Gibraltar has one of the largest British military presences in the world. I’ve asked the governor to forward a message to my attention on the Arethusa if any more details are uncovered concerning Dr. MacCloud’s attack. We’ve done all we can, Willa.” He reached out and covered her hand with his. “I
