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D iana beamed at Inge as she came bounding up the shore. She rubbed her dog’s neck as she removed a seagull from her mouth. “ Sehr gut, Inge. Braver Hund !” She pointed back toward the beach. “ Hol !”

Inge took off, tail wagging, as glad to have some useful employment as Diana herself.

Taking in the vista—the blue sky overhead, the sparkling sea below, the verdant stretch of grass—she couldn’t help but laugh aloud. It was ironic that she felt happier here than in her brother’s gilded ballroom. But feel happier she did.

She was free !

She turned to young Benjamin. “Now, watch how I do it again. I know you’ll master the trick of it.”

She positioned the seagull on its back on the ground, wings outspread.

Placing one foot on each of its wings, she seized its legs in a firm grip.

She began to pull upward. “Move slowly. It’s important to use steady pressure.

If you jerk too hard, it won’t come away cleanly.

And… voila !” she exclaimed as the feet separated from the bird’s body, taking most of the feathers with them and exposing the breast meat.

“Cor!” Benjamin exclaimed. “I can’t get over how quick it goes. How’d you learn to do that, m’lady?”

She bent down to collect her handiwork. “My great-aunt taught me. There are a few ways to field dress a game bird, but that one is the easiest for me, given my arm.” She handed the top half of the bird to a German soldier, who nodded his thanks and began cutting the breast meat away from the head.

Another man picked up the legs and began peeling the skin back from the bird’s thighs.

An hour ago, it had occurred to Diana that the seabirds roosting on the nearby rocks were their most promising source of supper.

She pulled her fowling piece from her trunk and started picking them off, and a handful of soldiers promptly joined her.

Between them and Inge, they had settled into a smooth system, with a few men doing the shooting, a few helping to clean the birds, and others roasting the meat over the fire.

She smiled as Inge came trotting up the bluff, another seagull clutched in her mouth. “You try this one, Benja?—”

“Diana!” someone shouted.

She turned, surprised, to see Harrington sprinting toward her, his eyes wild. Alarmed, she looked around, searching for whatever danger he had apparently spotted.

She frowned. The sky was blue, and the sun was shining. She couldn’t see any armed assassins waiting at the top of the rise. Everything seemed… fine?

“Harrington?” she asked as he skidded to a stop. “What’s wrong?”

“What on earth are you doing?” he gasped.

She glanced around. Surely it was apparent? There were two dozen birds roasting over the fire, after all.

She was saved from having to answer by Benjamin. “She’s teaching me to field dress a seagull! You should have seen her—she pulled a shotgun right out of her trunk and took down a half dozen birds with her first shot!”

“They weren’t expecting it,” Diana demurred. “And they do roost closely together.”

“Inge’s been fetching the birds,” Benjamin continued. “We’ve all got jobs—Lieutenants Schneider and Bauer are doing the shooting. Gassner and Kleinendorst here are roasting the meat. And the rest of us are cleaning the birds!”

Harrington gaped at her. “You had a shotgun in your trunk ?”

“Well, of course.” She laughed. “I did mention that Aunt Griselda packed for me. Surely you did not imagine that she would send me off into the great world without a proper fowling piece.” She turned to Benjamin, holding out the gull Inge had just collected. “Go on. Give it another try.”

She watched him attempt to get into the proper position. “You must place your feet closer to the body of the bird,” she advised. “Closer… Yes, as close as you can get them. Good. Now pull up on the feet, slowly… That’s it, slow and steady now...”

Benjamin gave a cry of delight as the skin slipped away, revealing the breast meat beneath.

“Excellent!” Diana leaned down, peeling a few stray entrails off the bird and tossing them aside.

She smiled up at her husband, only to find him gawking at her. “What?” she asked, confused.

“How did you learn to do that?” he hissed.

She sighed. Really, this was starting to become tiresome. “Harrington. I need you to forget all that nonsense about the silk gowns and the seed pearls. None of that is me. I am going to explain this as clearly as I can.” She looked him steadily in the eyes. “I was raised by Aunt Griselda .”

She watched as comprehension flared in his eyes. His mouth fell open, and he took a staggering step back. “ Oh, my God ,” he said, pressing a hand to his heart. “You’re the perfect army wife!”

“Yes! I am!” She shook her head. “It’s about time that somebody noticed.”

His face was still full of consternation. “Look, Diana. This is wonderful, what you’ve done here?—”

She laughed, wrinkling her nose. “I’m not sure you’ll feel that way once dinner is served. The meat certainly doesn’t smell very good.” She raised a finger. “But it is plentiful!”

He dropped his voice low. “I need to speak with you.”

She studied him a beat. She wasn’t sure why he was so upset, but clearly he was. “All right.” She gestured to her hand, which was dirty from cleaning the game. “Give me a moment to?—”

“Lieutenant Astley, there you are.” Captain Bannister came striding up to the group. “Your wife has created a very efficient operation.”

Harrington straightened. “Yes, sir. Not that I am the least bit surprised.”

The captain’s eyes gleamed. “It appears you’ve chosen well for yourself. How did you find the Martello Tower?”

“There are about twenty men stationed there. No significant store of supplies. They’re nervous that we’ll eat them out of house and home.”

Captain Bannister nodded. “Apparently there’s a larger storehouse across the island. We’ll resupply from there tomorrow. But tonight”—he cast Diana an amused smile—“it looks like we’ll be dining on seagull. Which is where you come in, Lieutenant.”

Harrington’s brow furrowed. “Sir?”

“I’m given to understand that you’re one of the best shots in all of England,” the captain said. “I presume you brought a fowling piece with you?”

“I… Of course.”

Captain Bannister nodded toward a pile of luggage. “I had your trunk brought over. Get out there and shoot us some supper. We’ll need a good supply of birds, as we’ve over three hundred mouths to feed.”

Harrington inclined his head. “Yes, sir.”

He moved off toward the stack of trunks, but not before shooting Diana a pregnant look.

As her husband walked away, she wondered what he had wanted to discuss with her so urgently.

She had no idea. But she meant to find out. Tonight.