There had been a moment, as Novus had unleashed his tirade, that Winter felt absurdly grateful she hadn’t abandoned her male disguise, as Bobby had. It wasn’t a feeling she was proud of. But Novus’ reaction was the one she’d always expected would follow discovery—if not the outright rape and murder that had been on Sergeant Davis’ mind—and though when he’d found out Janus had not lived up to her fears, she suspected that Janus was, as usual, exceptional. If the old-fashioned royal officers or traditionalists like Colonel d’Ivoire found out, she suspected a verbal explosion like Novus’ would be the least of her worries.

It’s all well and good for Bobby. As an officer in the Girls’ Own, she only has to answer to Winter. I have to work with the rest of the army . . .

“We’ll get rid of him,” Winter said, shaking her head to clear her brief reverie. “But he’s Royal Army, so we need to do this properly, or he’ll tie us in knots with regulations. I’ll have to write to Janus. We’ll see if he grins at me when I’ve got a letter from the commanding general backing me up.”

“I look forward to seeing his reaction, sir.”

*   *   *

Winter awoke to the sound of a whispered argument outside her tent.

The news that they were getting a decent meal in place of army rations had lent the camp a carnival atmosphere. While Winter hadn’t issued any alcohol, there were plenty of locals willing to remedy that deficiency. Trying to keep it out of the camp altogether would have been futile, so Winter passed the word for the sergeants to circulate and make sure nobody got more than tipsy. There was another march tomorrow, after all, and possibly a battle after that.

Even so, several competing choruses had kept up a running contest late into the night, alternating between patriotic anthems and the endless, bawdy camp songs that any group of soldiers seemed to generate spontaneously. Winter was fairly sure there was a bit of Abby’s “fraternization” going on as well, and that thought was almost enough to drive her from her tent in search of Jane. Instead she stayed put, going over regimental paperwork until her eyes drooped, then lying awake on her pallet, aware of every footstep nearby. If Jane was going to come back, after all, this would be a perfect time, and Winter kept expecting to hear the soft rustle of the tent flap and the murmur of her lover’s voice in her ear. Eventually she fell asleep, and dreamed of Jane’s lips on hers and Jane’s fingers sliding over her skin.