Page 16 of The Sweetest Season
After they’d tried the dessert, and Noel approved, Bea ventured, “You’re a war hero, they say.”
“They say a lot of things,” Noel observed.“I served up by the Canadian border and did what I could to annoy the British regulars and their allies—which suppose includes you.”
“I was in Paris by then,” she assured him, “and I must confess I wasn’t paying attention.”
He laughed.“Yes, it was a war everyone wishes to forget.But my main act of heroism was enduring captivity.”
“That’s heroic.”
“Heroism is sometimes a myth.They call me a hero, but only because there was a mistake made when I was taken.I was sent to Melville Island, which is near Halifax, along with a large number of other prisoners of war.Evidently there was an enlisted man also called Noel Forrest, and the soldiers in charge of recording all the information about incoming prisoners had put me down as him, and my uniform was so destroyed by that point that they couldn’t have noticed the emblems of rank even if they looked for them.
“I spent the first few weeks in rather, let’s say, damp quarters.There were so many prisoners that some were kept in the hold of an old ship anchored in the harbor…far enough out that it was no use jumping over the side and swimming, not with the chains we wore.It was February, and there’s no cold like ocean cold.Already wounded from the battle, I quickly took a fever and was delirious for days, and insensible for even longer.When I came to, I tried to explain that I was an officer, but they assumed I was lying to get better treatment.”
“It sounds like a nightmare!”
“That is a very close description, especially since I still had bouts of confusion, and I was sometimes sure I was dreaming.”
“How long were you held prisoner?”
“I was in the ship for a month, they tell me.It took the persistence of Mr Marley to set things straight.He never believed that his superior officer Noel Forrest had died on the battlefield, and he kept harrying the British command for details about all the prisoners taken during the battle we’d been in.He was the one who finally realized that there’d been an error in recording me as an enlisted man.To give credit, the British officer in charge of whole operation at Halifax was horrified when he learned what happened.Mistreatment of a fellow officer, matter of honor, and all that.I was treated very well from that point on.But my leg and my lungs have never been the same since.”
“And yet if you’d actually been that other soldier…”
“I’d have likely died within weeks.Death may treat all men equally, but armies rarely do.”
She paused, thinking of how a simple error in paperwork could have such consequences.“I’m so sorry to hear what you went through.You must never want to remember it.”
He said, “The ship I was first held in, which was more of a floating hulk, was called theNorthwind.”
Beatrice gasped.He’d named his house after the ship where he’d been imprisoned!The place where he’d gotten sick and perhaps nearly died.And while in confinement there, he must have endured some of the darkest moments of his life.
“Why would you do that?It would be like naming a child after an enemy.”
“A house isn’t a person,” he countered.“And I felt it was important to always acknowledge that time, so I’d never take anything for granted.”
“But you did get removed from the ship eventually, yes?”
“Yes.As an officer, I was granted privileges not offered to ordinary soldiers.A British major there had nominal charge of me—Major Hemming.His family was very welcoming, considering the situation.I had the freedom to walk the whole town, provided I didn’t attempt to escape.Not that I did much walking for a long time.I spent several months in that house, or very nearby.”
“I heard the officer who housed you had a daughter,” Bea said, more tentatively.
“Yes.”Now he laughed warmly.“Isabel is her name.A truly lovely girl.”
His whole face lit up when he said the name Isabel, and Beatrice suddenly didn’t want to hear any more.Noel had claimed her efforts in the kitchens had brought him back to health.If only she were lovely too.If only she could inspire that same elation.
Chapter 6
Christmas drew closer day byday, and Beatrice continued to work harder than ever at the shop.It was counterintuitive, but she most looked forward to Noel’s next challenge, so she could devise an entirely new treat.Though it should have felt like more work, it instead felt like a game.
She made a crème de cassis–laced sponge cake with cocoa dusted over the top.
He liked that.
She made a flaky pastry filled with a paste of toasted almonds and orange zest.
He liked that.
She made a torte with a strawberry and whipped cream center.
