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Bedwyn who was riding toward them, presumably on his way to the inn at the other end of the village. Why was he still in Heybridge? She would have expected him to be several hours along on his journey home by now.
    He spotted them as his horse drew level with the beech tree and touched his whip to his hat. He
did
look extremely powerful on horseback, as she had expected, even though he was not wearing his uniform. He was not a man she would want to cross, she thought. He looked dour and humorless. He looked like a man who never smiled. But she must not be unkind. He had called on her twice. He had offered to help her in any way he could.
    He hesitated and then drew his horse to a halt. He turned back toward the vicarage, dismounted, looped the reins over the garden fence, and came striding into the churchyard. Eve felt both startled and dismayed. She wanted nothing more to do with him. She disliked him, though she was honest enough with herself to realize that her only reason for doing so was that he was the one who had brought her the devastating news.
    She introduced the two gentlemen.
    “It was Colonel Bedwyn,” she explained to the vicar, “who brought word of Percy's death yesterday. He was Percy's commanding officer.”
    “A tragic business,” the Reverend Puddle said. “His passing is a dreadful loss for Miss Morris and for the whole neighborhood. We have been planning a memorial service for tomorrow afternoon. Will you still be here, sir?”
    “I have been delayed by the illness of my batman,” the colonel explained. “He has contracted a head cold since our return to Britain. I do not know quite when we will be on our way.”
    The vicar murmured words of sympathy. Colonel Bedwyn looked at Eve and she felt the urge to take a step back. He had a piercing, very direct gaze. She pitied his men and was glad that Percy, although his subordinate, had at least been an officer.
    “A memorial service?” he said.
    She nodded. “Unfortunately,” she said, “I do not have his body to bury. But he grew up here. Most of my neighbors and friends remember him well. He was my brother. There is a need for some ceremony, some official good-bye.”
    He nodded his understanding.
    “We have been discussing whom to ask to give the eulogy,” the vicar explained. “I came here after Captain Morris left and would not do a creditable job of it myself.”
    The colonel's black stare was still on Eve.
    “Perhaps,” he said, “it would be appropriate if I spoke a few words, ma'am. Your neighbors should know what a courageous cavalry officer the Percival Morris they remember turned into and how bravely he fought for his country.”
    “That is an extraordinarily generous offer, sir,” the Reverend Puddle said.
    “You would stay one more day?” Eve frowned. “You would do that for me, Colonel?”
    He inclined his head. “I gave my solemn word, ma'am.”
    To protect her. It had broken her heart as she lay awake last night to realize that Percy had been plagued with very justifiable fears of what his death was going to mean to her. But what had he thought Colonel Bedwyn could do for her? He had been, she supposed, beyond rational thought.
    “Thank you,” she said. “That would be very good of you.”
    He nodded and finally looked away from her to take his leave of the Reverend Puddle. A moment later he was striding away to mount his horse again.
    “A formidable gentleman,” the vicar observed.
    “Yes,” Eve agreed. Also, very clearly, a man of his word. She realized that his offer to help her this morning and his offer now to stay an extra day in order to deliver a eulogy at Percy's memorial service tomorrow had nothing to do with simple kindness. His life had been saved and he felt himself in Percy's debt. He had given Percy his word that he would protect her, and in the absence of any other way of serving her, he would stay to say uplifting things about Percy for her comfort and her neighbors' edification.
    She was