“We have brought his trunk,” said the captain. “From Spain. Now the dust has settled things have been finding their way back to us. Though I dare say he’ll be surprised to see it.”

“He’s out,” she said.

“Oh?”

“He took the dog out. I can’t say when he’ll be back.”

“But he will not walk all day, I hope?”

“No,” she said. “No. He’ll be back before dinner.”

She led him through to the drawing room. The morning sun had been coming in the window for the last two hours and the air was warm, the room scented with the soft smell of itself—wood, old fabrics, the coal-breath of the fireplace.

“We were in the Peninsula together,” he said. “Shared billets in Lisbon. An onion loft, believe it or not.”

She nodded, her hands clasped in front of her apron.

“I wasn’t with him on the road to Corunna, worse luck. Broke my arm in Salamanca and found myself back in Lisbon again. I suppose he has told you all this. Old campaigners are fond of their stories.”

“He has not been well,” she said. “He was very bad when he came.”

“Yes?” he said. “Well, it is not to be wondered at. I wrote to him here but heard nothing back. Perhaps he was not well enough to write.”

“I expect not,” she said.

“But he is walking now. That must be a good sign.”

“It is,” she said.

“Yet I sense you would not declare him perfectly recovered. Not yet.”

“He cannot hear quite well,” said the housekeeper. “When he comes in you will need to speak clearly and let him see your face.”

“I wonder what that could have been,” said the captain. “The cause of it. He has been attended by an able doctor? We have a very good fellow at the depot. Luff. Looks after the colonel’s wife. She’s often indisposed.”

“He can hear well enough,” she said, “if you speak up a little.”

Lacroix was back in less than an hour. The housekeeper met him at the door. He had already seen the carriage. She gave him his visitor’s name, twice. He frowned. He was angry. Or not angry quite. He was irritable, ill at ease. She wondered if he was frightened.

She went with him to the door of the drawing room and stood aside as he went through. She expected to be told to bring something in, some refreshments, but he said nothing and shut the door behind him. She looked a while at the door then stepped closer to it. It was easy enough to hear them—the visitor speaking as she had advised him to. And it was her business, she thought, to know something of theirs. Certainly there was no one to catch her at it.