Page 8 of A Lady's Heart Deceived
“But what?” replied Hugh.
Maggie took a deep breath. “He is adamant that the army has no record of Robert. It’s as if he never existed.”
“That’s outrageous. Of course, he existed. It’s not your fault that the army can’t do its job and maintain its records,” huffed Hugh. “Don’t tell me this Captain Denford has closed your case because if he has, I won’t have it. After all that you have suffered, you deserve some answers.”
Maggie wiped at her tears. She was at a loss as to where next she should look for clues as to Robert’s life. “The captain said he will carry on with his investigations and let me know of his progress. But I am not sure if he is going to succeed in finding anything else. Or if indeed there is any point. Do you remember when I told you that Robert’s note said he was leaving on the HMSVille de Paris?”
Hugh nodded. “Yes, I recall him mentioning that in his letter. The ship was sailing late the next evening, which is why he couldn’t come to see you before he left.”
She had been in a terrible state at the time, fearful of never seeing her fiancé again. Her fears had been well grounded. “Well, Captain Denford explained that when the ship sailed to Ostend, he was on board. And it didn’t leave for Europe in April; it went in May. Though the captain did agree that it was possible Robert could have left England on another boat.”
The more she thought about it, the more sense that particular explanation made. With hundreds of soldiers all leaving England at the same time, it would have been easy enough for men to have gotten mixed up and put on the wrong ship. And if that was the case, then service records may also have been misplaced.
All of it was such a mess, and there was only one thing of which she was certain: without Robert’s army history, she couldn’t commission the statue. She felt honor bound to acknowledge his sacrifice. To render him the respect he was due.
Hugh pulled her into a fatherly embrace, holding her tight. He brushed a kiss on her forehead as she rested her cheek against his chest. “I know this might sound harsh, but you must continue the fight to uncover what happened to Robert. The bible teaches us that through the truth we are set free. And while it may cause you pain, you will find a way through the heartache and eventually come to peace.”
Her father had always pressed upon his children both the practical as well as the faith-based side of the church’s teachings. As the Bishop of London, Hugh was a powerful man in the Church of England. He was also very down to earth. His Sunday sermons at St. Paul’s Cathedral were well attended. Calm words of advice were his strength. Maggie would need to draw on them if she was going to see this through to the end.
“If nothing else, I have to find a way to prove that he was real. To honor his memory,” she said.
Maggie raised her head and met her father’s gaze. A comforting smile sat on his lips. “The British Army is not the only place where records of men are kept. I would suggest that we turn to the church. If Robert was indeed born in the city of Coventry, then his baptism should be noted somewhere in the local church registers. And so would the details of his family.”
Maggie sighed. It may very well end up being yet another wild-goose chase, but it could give her some answers.
And, mercifully, an end to all this uncertainty.
No one expected her to spend the rest of her days mourning Robert. Over the past year, that thought had slowly become stronger in her mind. Commissioning a statue of him had been a major part of Maggie’s efforts find a way forward. She would forever grieve Robert, but even he wouldn’t have wanted her to waste the rest of her years pining for something she couldn’t have.Wouldn’t he?
“You are right, Papa. If I can’t find Robert’s service history, then I should try to find his birth record. If I am fortunate, I might even be able to locate an address for his family. It would be good to be able to send them my condolences. That’s something which is well overdue.”
Robert and Maggie’s courtship had been so sudden, they hadn’t had the opportunity to travel north to meet the Taylor family and inform them of their betrothal—although she assumed Robert would have written to his family and made mention of her before he shipped out to war.
But the prospect of spending yet more endless hours writing and receiving letters from the various church authorities in Coventry didn’t hold much appeal. Maggie was tired of the long, drawn-out saga.
“What would you say if I decided to travel up to Coventry? I could follow things up much quicker than if I just wrote to various people,” she said.
Her father’s gaze shifted to a sudden noise which came from behind her. Maggie turned to see the family dog, King, bounding into the garden. Tail wagging, he made a beeline for her.
She dropped to her knees and gave him a friendly pat, scratching behind his fluffy ears. “Hello, boy. I didn’t see you before I left this morning.”
King’s tail bounced on the ground, an obvious sign he was enjoying the attention. He was a large, whirlwind of a dog, and Maggie loved him.
“There was a big beef bone from last night’s supper with the church choir; the cook gave it to him. I don’t think he moved until every last lick of meat was gone,” said Hugh.
Maggie gave King one last pat before getting to her feet. The blissful dog scampered away in the direction of the garden beds and a nearby lilac bush, which was his favorite.
“So, what do you think, Papa?” she asked, returning to the subject at hand.
“I think you might be in too much haste. If Captain Denford said he would keep looking, then I suggest you let him finish his work. Give it a week or so, and then follow things up with him. You have been waiting to hear back from the army for many months now, so a few more days won’t make any difference.”
She hated it when her father made such good sense. Maggie was all for throwing a couple of gowns into a bag and jumping onboard the next mail coach headed out of London.
Hugh was, of course, right. She shouldn’t be in such a hurry. Captain Denford may yet uncover the information she was seeking, and then the need for a long journey to Coventry would be rendered futile. Patience would have to be her virtue for a little while longer.
“I will wait to hear from the captain. But if he is unsuccessful, I ask that you to consider letting me go.”
Her father nodded. “You have a deal. If nothing comes of Captain Denford’s work, I shall give serious thought as to who will accompany you to Coventry. Who knows? The army might be keen to close the matter and be willing to lend you the captain’s personal services.”
