She shuddered. “It has eyes!”
Georg regarded her with a level gaze. “Yes, fish commonly do, like most living creatures. And a mouth, with teeth. And some gills. And fish bones.”
The girl whimpered. “You do not understand. I hate fish. They terrify me.”
“Fish terrify you.” He had come across, in a lifetime of campaigning, quite a few eccentric individuals, but none surpassed that female who sat across from him, who appeared about to burst into tears because of a perfectly grilled plate of trout.
It had been grilled over the open fire, and seasoned with garlic and herbs. It smelled so divine, his mouth watered.
“You have no idea.” She shuddered again. “When those dead fish eyes look at you, into every nook of your soul, sucking up every inch of you…it is the stuff nightmares are made of.” Her face took on a pasty hue.
Georg looked at her sharply. There was something about her behaviour now that did not seem to be artifice. For some inexplicable reason, she seemed truly terrified of fish.
Well, he supposed it was possible. He’d known a corporal who was not at all squeamish about facing theGrande Armeeon the battlefield, howitzers and all, looking death squarely in the face without blinking, yet was terrified to death of mice. He’d squealed very much like the girlhad, and climbed on top of a table, in his Hessian boots, because of a tiny mouse. Another could not abide spiders and insisted on shaking out his boots every morning out of fear one had fallen in. It had become an obsessive habit, somewhat inconvenient when they were in the thick of an engagement and he would suddenly order one of the infantrymen to help him pull off his boots to check for spiders. It was a mystery how the man had survived five battles, but survive them he did. He’d heard that some people were afraid of all sorts of things: tight spaces, vast spaces, heights, snakes, bees and what-not. Some fears were irrational and made no particular sense, and yet there they were.
Just when her face took on a distinctly green hue, he set down his fork. “Are you afraid of potatoes as well?”
He had to repeat the question twice before she finally shook her head.
“Excellent. I propose the following. You detest fish. Well, I detest potatoes.” He did not. He adored potatoes, particularly when they were fried in the pan, in sizzling butter, seasoned with parsley just like the ones on their plates. “How about we conduct an exchange?”
He picked up her plate, dropped her trout on his, and transferred his potatoes onto hers. Then he returned the plate to her. “There you are. You eat the potatoes, I eat the fish, and we both shall be content. Yes?”
She looked at him, blinking. She gingerly pierced one potato with her fork, inspecting it.
“It won’t attack you. I promise,” Georg said gently. “And if it does, I shall, most heroically, defend you. It is what we soldiers do.”
She sniffed. Then she nibbled at it carefully. As if deciding it was harmless, she ate a bit more, the entire forkful.Finally she pulled the plate towards her and dug in as if starving.
Georg watched, shaking his head.
For a good few minutes, there was blessed silence, and he dug into his own food.
After she’d cleared the plate, she took a tentative sip from her beer mug, and predictably, spluttered, coughed and pulled a face.
Georg repressed a smirk. He lifted a finger and ordered some tea for her, which the innkeeper promptly brought.
She poured in milk and three heaped spoonfuls of sugar, and stirred.
“Thank you.”
He gave a curt nod.
She set her spoon aside, as if reaching a resolution. “We are on the way to visit Lady Evangeline’s friend.”
He leaned forward. “Who?”
“Miss Philippa Cranwell.”
He ran the name through the infinite recesses of his mind, but it did not ring a bell. Whoever she was, he’d never heard of her. Although Cranwell, Cranwell… Wasn’t there some professor bearing that name?
He cocked an eyebrow. “An Englishwoman?”
She inclined her head and ran a finger around the tip of her spoon. “Indeed. She is Lady Evie’s childhood friend. Lady Evie had a sudden urge to visit her.”
“And how long have you been Lady Evie’s companion?”
“For about two years. Her brother hired me because Lady Evie was lonely.”
