Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ginger hadn’t expected to feel so much guilt for spending the night with Noah after they were married—but her guilt had little to do with their behavior.
Or with how much she’d enjoyed the previous night.
Noah had slept in her arms for a few hours, then woken her to make love again before he’d left under the cloak of darkness.
He’d likely wanted to drown out his thoughts when the alcohol had worn off.
But standing in front of Captain Harold Young at the operating table in the hospital, she understood Noah’s behavior better.
Dr. Radford had pulled her into the surgery as soon as Ginger had arrived that morning.
She hadn’t even had the opportunity to do her daily debrief with Peter Osborne.
She hoped he wouldn’t be annoyed at having to wait.
Ginger felt sick. Captain Young’s face was disfigured, his jaw and nose broken in several places.
Dr. Radford had commented that he’d been lucky his attacker hadn’t blinded him.
His face, swollen and hideously puffy, didn’t reflect the story that Noah had relayed to her—that he’d tried to save Young from being killed.
And no one knew Noah had taken him to the hospital either.
How on earth could Noah be exonerated from participating in this?
One of Young’s arms had also been broken, and he’d suffered several cracked ribs. They’d reset the bone in his broken arm, and Dr. Radford was examining her work when he stirred from the anesthesia.
Ginger wiped the spittle from his torn lips, not wanting to see his broken teeth. How could Noah do this?
How could Noah do this and then spend the night in her arms?
She felt the taint of his crime on her skin.
This couldn’t be legal, no matter what Lord Helton had authorized him to do to find Victoria. She’d seen Noah kill before. And her brain had rationalized it because they’d been enemy soldiers, men who would kill her or him. Who were trying to kill them.
This felt different.
And yet Noah had claimed the nationalists would have killed him if he hadn’t.
Captain Young’s eyes were too swollen to open, but his lips moved.
Dr. Radford looked up sharply. “What’s that?”
Both women leaned closer to Captain Young. His words were a raspy gurgle. “Bennn … sonnn …”
Panic welled in Ginger’s throat. Young remembered.
Dr. Radford gave her a querying look. “Did you understand him?”
Lie.
She had to. She couldn’t very well tell Dr. Radford the truth. The doctor may not know who Noah was, but she could repeat his name to the authorities.
Ginger gulped down a breath, trying to think of a response. “No, it was a mumble.”
But Young wasn’t done attempting to communicate. “Bennnnsonnn …” The word sounded malformed coming from his swollen lips.
This time Dr. Radford understood. “Benthon?” She repeated the word as Young had pronounced it. Dr. Radford exchanged a look with Ginger and grabbed a notepad. She scribbled the word down. “Is this a name—no, don’t speak. Just give one nod if you can.”
Young nodded.
Fear crawled down Ginger’s back like a hundred baby spiders breaking free from the base of her neck. Young slipped out of consciousness again shortly after, but the damage was already done.
As the women left the operating theater, Dr. Radford stared at the name she’d written. “Poor man. I can’t imagine how much pain he must be in. I told you how an orderly found him on the steps of the hospital last night? Simply awful.”
“Quite. It’s a frightening time to be in Cairo.” Ginger’s throat was thick, and she swallowed a few times to clear it. “Did you still want me to do that test today?” She didn’t deserve it, given the circumstances.
“Oh, yes.” Dr. Radford’s face brightened, and she gave Ginger an eager smile. “I would. And, in fact, I thought it might be nice to go for tea together afterward. I know I’ve been pushing you quite hard, but it’s only because I see so much potential in you, Sister Whitman.”
Normally, Ginger would have felt pleased with the compliment. Dr. Radford didn’t seem like the type of woman who gave them lightly. “Thank you.” She had to gasp the words out. “You’re welcome to call me Ginger, if you’d like.”
“Only if you call me Jane.” She stopped in front of the door to her office, where she knew Peter Osborne waited. “I’d like us to be friends, Sis—Ginger. I know I’m a bit brash.”
The offer of friendship overwhelmed Ginger in a way she couldn’t quite understand.
She’d been desperately needing a friend since Beatrice had left, and her sisterly moment with Lucy the night before had only furthered that need.
But would Jane Radford hate her if she knew the activities Ginger was involved in?
She gave a wordless nod, smiling. Jane opened the door to her office, and Peter Osborne rose from his chair.
“Mr. Osborne.” Jane breezed into her office, dashing to gather a few files from her desk.
“I apologize for keeping Sister Whitman occupied this morning. We had an emergency that needed to be tended to first thing.”
Osborne removed his hat. “No trouble at all, Doctor.” He stood beside his chair, indicating that he wouldn’t continue speaking with Ginger until Dr. Radford had left.
Jane held the files in her hand. “I’ll be right down the hall, Sister Whitman. You can take the test directly after this.”
“Test?” Osborne asked as Jane shut the door.
Ginger settled into the chair across from him.
“Yes, a test to see if I can qualify to be trained in administering anesthesia.” She folded her hands in her lap.
“I’m sorry to say, Mr. Osborne, I don’t have any news to share.
I have made little progress on finding Mr. Mortimer since the polo match.
” She’d been forced to tell him about the debacle with Lady Hendricks the day before.
“I’m hoping Lady Hendricks will accept my offer to go to tea, but she hasn’t responded to my note yet.
Other than that, I was terribly busy studying last night. ”
Osborne cocked a brow at her. “Even when Colonel Benson snuck into your house near midnight?”
She froze. They are watching me. She tried not to squirm under his gaze. “Goodness, that’s quite an accusation.” She drew a shallow breath that did nothing to relieve the light-headedness she felt.
“He wasn’t seen leaving until almost four in the morning.” Osborne leaned toward her, calm but clearly unrelenting in his accusation. He knew he’d caught her in a lie.
Ginger blinked at him, then scrambled to her feet. “I don’t see how that has anything to do with you, sir.”
Osborne caught her by the wrist, his grip strong. “Lady Virginia, you forget yourself. You swore an oath not only to me but to your country. I must insist on the truth from you.”
“You’ll release my hand.” Damn, but she wished she had the pistol he’d given her. Even though he offered no direct threat, she’d let herself get too comfortable around him, too trusting that he presented no harm.
“Then you’ll explain why you felt it necessary to lie to me. Colonel Benson visited your bedroom, yes?” His grey eyes were unflinchingly cold.
Osborne released her wrist and she rubbed it. She should take him to task for it. But the situation with Captain Young clouded her thoughts. She could tell Osborne about her marriage, but she’d previously told him she wasn’t close to Noah.
“You told me to make myself available to Colonel Benson to find out what he knew of the concession, and I did. I didn’t think that required me giving you any details that would only bring my reputation harm. I’ve told you the truth—”
“That you didn’t see him?”
She glared at him. “That he told me nothing of relevance to you. Unless you’d like to hear his declarations of love for me.”
“Maybe I would.” Osborne crossed his arms. “I’d certainly prefer that to your lies.” He stared down his nose at her. “We followed Colonel Benson to a nationalist meeting last evening. He disappeared after that, only to reappear—much to our surprise—outside your home.”
She gathered her shredded dignity from the floorboards. “I have nothing more to say about my interactions with Colonel Benson last night.”
Osborne gave her a disdainful look. “Don’t forget who you work for, Lady Virginia. Benson has been stalking me lately, trying to corner me. I don’t know what it is you told him, but I fear I was wrong in confiding anything to you. Get back to work.”
Her face burned as she left the office. She was utterly humiliated. Angry with Noah for putting her in such a compromising situation. He had been careless in his drunkenness. She was furious with herself for allowing it.
She’d known the CID watched her closely.
How foolish could she be?
Her expression must have reflected her distress as she opened the door to the office. Across the hall, Jane straightened, then gave her a concerned look.
Before Jane could say anything, Osborne came out behind her. “Excuse me, ladies.” He tipped his hat at Jane. “Good day.”
“Oh, Mr. Osborne, one question. The soldier who was brought in last night was attacked. He mentioned a name after surgery.” Jane held out her note.
“Benthon. Should I go to Cairo police or speak to the army? I’m not sure if the procedure is different here compared to the way we handled this sort of thing in Malta. ”
Oh, God, no. Ginger felt the blood drain from her face.
Osborne’s eyes swiveled to Ginger’s face, and he took the note from Jane.
“Benthon?” Despite the lisp Jane had given the name, Osborne was too bright not to be suspicious.
This time he didn’t bother to request a private audience.
“Nothing to tell me, Lady Virginia?” The rebuke in his voice was acidic.
“I forgot about this,” Ginger’s voice was an aching whisper, but she held herself with whatever last shred of pride she could.
Osborne gave Jane a pleasant smile. “Take me to the soldier. I’ll handle the situation myself.”
Damn him, damn him, damn him.
Ginger remained fixed in place as Jane and Osborne’s footsteps retreated down the hallway. She crumpled against the doorway to Jane’s office, bracing herself against the frame. She struggled to breathe, and tears stung her eyes. She wouldn’t cry, not here.
The worst part was that she didn’t even know which of them she was most angry with—Osborne or Noah.
At the sound of footsteps approaching once more, Ginger straightened. Her cheeks still flamed as Jane came to her side.
The surgeon appeared to see through her attempt at disguising her emotions. Jane bit her lower lip, then checked her wristwatch. The radium-painted dials glowed in the dark hallway. “Why don’t you take the test tomorrow? It’s been a trying morning.”
Truthfully, Ginger had no desire to take a test. She was too distracted. “I’m afraid I’m not quite myself at the moment.”
“I can see that.” Jane glanced down the hall. “I hope you don’t find it terribly intrusive of me to ask, but Mr. Osborne didn’t mistreat you, did he? I know how men in positions of authority can be, even pleasant ones like Mr. Osborne.”
Ginger was tempted to trust her with her struggles. But she hardly knew Jane. There was no telling how well she knew Osborne either. “Mr. Osborne was harsh, but, no, he didn’t mistreat me.” She gave Jane a curious look. “How is it you and Mr. Osborne are acquainted?”
“He was my patient.” Jane lowered her voice. “This past summer. He was quite emaciated when he was in the hospital, the poor man.”
“Your patient?” Ginger lifted a brow. Osborne was the picture of health. A bit on the thin side, perhaps, but she wouldn’t have imagined him being emaciated. “What was he in the hospital for?”
“He had been a prisoner of war after Kut—spent over a year in a POW camp and was finally released in a prisoner exchange late in the spring after the fall of Baghdad.” Jane folded her hands together.
“He’s quite admirable, given what he’s been through.
The poor men who were abandoned at the siege of Kut were left starving.
Mr. Osborne told me that the Indian men he commanded had to break the rules of their religion and eat horse meat to survive. ”
Ginger had followed the atrocities of Kut the year before.
The events that had unfolded there had been horrific and absolutely humiliating for the British.
She felt a twinge of guilt. She never would have imagined Osborne as having gone through such an ordeal.
Because of his current position, she’d imagined him as one of the more fortunate men during the war—the ones serving behind desks.
But perhaps he’d earned the current position due to his previous trials.
Whatever Osborne’s story was, Noah was right to be concerned about him.