“They taste good. That’s all I care about.” Mark’s teeth flashed splendidly white as he tore at a piece of the bird’s breast.
Coffee and pastries finished off their meal, and she was relieved he didn’t order a second bottle of wine. Throughout the meal she kept up a cheerful patter of conversation, with Mark only contributing now and again. Once the food was taken away, she found herself with nothing left to say. It was completely dark now, and she began worrying about how she would get back to the hospital.
“You’ve stopped laughing, my lovely girl.”
“Have I?”
“Mm.”
Her hand went up to brush a lock of hair from his forehead. He winced when she accidentally touched his wound. “That laceration needs attention,” she scolded. “Why didn’t you report to an orderly?”
“I couldn’t be bothered with all the fuss.”
“You haven’t even washed it properly. I could dress it for you, though.” She frowned. “Not here.”
“I took a room at Madame Roaux’s for tonight. It’s only a couple of streets away, but…”
“We’ll have to go there.” She would leave herself open to vicious gossip, or worse, if they got caught together, but the wound might become infected without proper attention. She couldn’t let him run the risk of septicemia.
His eyes narrowed. “Amy, you do realize what you’re suggesting?”
“Yes, but who’s to know?”
“If you got caught leaving—hell, you’d be ruined.”
“I’d rather risk it than let your wound remain undressed. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.”
“You’re too good for me, darling. I’m an unmitigated cad for letting you take such risks. I’ll walk you back to the hospital, but I don’t want to let you go just yet. You’re my lifeline to sanity.” He dragged trembling fingers through his hair.
“Bonne nuit, Capitaine, Mademoiselle,” Madame farewelled them at the door. Mark gabbled something back to her in French while Amy smiled.
Outside in the street, cold pebbled her arms with goosebumps as they strolled along keeping an arm’s length between them. Dozens of soldiers and civilians wandered around, even a few nurses from one of the British hospitals, so she began to feel safer.
The house occupied by Madame Roaux was narrow, double-storied, built out of dark stone, less than five minutes’ walk from the café. It stood in blackness, and as Amy followed Mark up a carpeted stairway, fear shivered along her spine.
What had possessed her to contemplate this madness? Why did Mark agree? Normally he would not have entertained such an idea, but after what he’d been through in the last few days, no wonder he didn’t want to be alone.
“Here we are.” He opened the door and propelled her forward with one hand in the small of her back. “Isn’t much, but it’s clean, and I wanted to get away from the army for a while.”
He struck a match and a lamp flared into light, throwing shadows against the walls. She glanced around the austere room. It contained only a wardrobe, dresser, and double bed. Whitewashed walls and dark matting did nothing to enhance the place.
“There’s a jug of water on the dresser,” he said, shrugging out of his uniform jacket.
No disinfectant. She poured water into a bowl so she could wet a flannel and bathe his wound. As she swung around, his arms snaked out and pulled her close.
“A few kisses first, my darling.”
“But, Mark—”
His lips silenced her protest, and as he arched her body into his she forgot about propriety because, dear God, it had been so long since she’d tasted his mouth. His tongue flicked and probed, deeper and deeper, until the fires of passion scorched along her veins.
“Amy, Amy…” He groaned the words against her throat. “My lovely girl, make me forget the horrors of Pozieres. Stay here with me, so I can sleep for an hour or so before I take you back to the hospital.”
“Mark, I…”
“Please, a few cuddles, that’s all. Slip your dress off so it won’t get creased, and I’ll keep my clothes on. Let me hold you, Amy. Your beauty can drive the bloody carnage of Pozieres out of my mind.”
She slipped out of her dress and lay on the bed beside him. He rested his head against her breast. “Let me sleep for an hour, and then I’ll take you back to the hospital. You’re so beautif…” He fell into an exhausted sleep and she lay there quietly, listening to his breathing, feeling the warmth of his body, inhaling his male scent. Love welled up in her heart. He wasn’t a coward, so why did he let some deeply buried secret from the past stop him from offering marriage? Other lives in jeopardy? Who did he mean? Could it possibly be Edwina?
“Ella, Ella.” Mixed up with the other unintelligible ravings, the Senior Sister’s name rang out, loud as a steeple bell.
Dear God, how could he? Minutes after asking her to stay with him, another woman’s name fell from his lips. Feeling defiled, she slipped out of bed. Fumbling around in the darkness, she somehow managed to slip on her dress. Giving small animal-like whimpers of distress, she felt her way down the darkened stairs.
A cold breeze slapped her heated skin as she struggled out into the night. How she made it back to the hospital, Amy would never know. Once in bed, she lay awake shedding bitter tears. She wasn’t a weak woman, so how could she let Mark repeatedly hurt her in the most shocking way, yet still come back for more? Burying her face in the pillow, she tried to block out the noise of her sobs. Slowly the hours ticked by, and she was glad when it was time to get up.
“You look terrible, Amy. Didn’t you sleep well?” If she heard the words once, she heard them a dozen times as she toyed with her breakfast. Three cups of tea made her feel slightly more human and able to commence work. Thank goodness for her patients and their needs. It was the only thing keeping her sane.
“There’s someone to see you.” Jane came up to Amy as she changed a dressing. “I’ll finish this off for you. Quickly. He’s waiting out in the back garden.”
“Mark?”
“Yes. Hurry before Ella catches him. You know what she’s like.”
Amy hesitated. The gall of him coming here, after what had happened in his billet last night. She never wanted to see him again.
“He said it was urgent,” Jane insisted. “Seemed really upset.” She grabbed the bandage out of Amy’s hand and gave her a gentle shove. “Sort out whatever problem you have with him while you still can.”
Slumped against a lichen-covered wall, Mark straightened up when he saw her.
“What do you want?” She attacked him straight away, hoping it would ease the raw throbbing hurt.
“Why did you leave me? For God’s sake, Amy. I planned to walk you back to the hospital.”
“You hurt me.”
“How?” He brushed his hand wearily across his forehead.
“You cried out for Ella.”
“What!”
“You held me in your arms and called out for Ella. How low and degraded do you think that made me feel?”
“I don’t know why I called out Ella’s name, but I swear there’s never been anything between us.”
“I’ve seen you flirting.”
“All right.” He threw his hands above his head. “I did flirt with her in the beginning, as a way of trying to stifle my feelings for you. It didn’t work, but I swear, nothing has ever happened between us. On my word of honor.”
Could she believe him? He sounded sincere, his eyes dark with anxiety and concern. “I believe you.” In three steps she closed the gap between them.
He gave her a quick kiss before stepping back. As she made to follow, he put even more distance between them.
“Not here, my darling. You never know who might be watching.”
“I don’t care.”
“Well, you should. You have your reputation to protect.”
“Frightened of scandal?”
“Not for myself. It could ruin your career. Ella’s waiting for a chance to
get something on you.”
“Why does it have to be like this, Mark, sneaking and skulking around? I hate it.”
“You think I don’t? Listen, I haven’t got much time before de-briefing with the big brass at HQ.” His mouth set into grim lines. “I’ve got the chance of a lift into Paris tomorrow, and a forty-eight-hour leave pass.” His mouth relaxed into a half smile. “I want you to come with me.”
“I don’t know.” She gnawed her lip dubiously. The need to be with him struggled against the fear of being caught.
“You should be able to get leave. You said they owed you time off, and there’s a lull in the fighting at the moment. I know I’m an unscrupulous cad, but I want us to spend some time together. I’ll arrange separate rooms, of course.”
Once she took this step, the dye was cast. There would be no turning back. No separate rooms, either. She would throw caution and everything else to the winds for this, probably her only chance to spend a decent amount of time with Mark, to taste his passion, before the carnage of the trenches gobbled them both.
“It’s not that I don’t want to go with you, but I’m sure Ella wouldn’t give me a leave pass.”
“Don’t let her know you’re coming with me. Say you’re meeting those friends of yours in Paris. Go above her head if you have to. You’ve got Major Vincent eating out of your hand.”
She managed a small laugh. “I have not.”
“Please, think of it, my darling. Forty-eight hours together, just the two of us. In Paris we can blend into the crowds, stroll along the street arm in arm, have a kiss or cuddle without worrying about someone seeing us. Paris, the city of love. We’ll be just two lovers amongst thousands of others.”
“Sounds wonderful. I’m a bit worried about leaving Millie, though. She’s been, well, strange since Dick died.”
“She’ll be all right. Jane can look after her while you’re away. I still say you should see Major Vincent about having her sent home.”
“No, she’s a good nurse; it’s all she’s got, now Dick’s gone. She still does her job well, so everyone is prepared to turn a blind eye to her strange ways.”
“Ella wouldn’t turn a blind eye to it.”
“I know, but she’s too busy with Colonel Justice to worry about Millie. I don’t know what she sees in that man.”
“Money and influence, the ultimate goal for some women.” Mark’s mouth twisted with bitterness.
“Not all women are out for what they can get from a man. You could be a pauper and it wouldn’t matter to me.”
“You’re different, Sister Amy.” He gave a sad little smile. “You’re one in a million, and if I had a scrap of chivalry in me I’d walk away from you.”
“While there’s breath in my body, I’ll never be free of you, Mark.”
His face contorted into a bleak mask. “You’re the only light I have in my life,” he admitted, his voice hoarse, ragged. “The only thing keeping me sane amongst all this horror.”
“Mark!”
“Sometimes I think it would be better if I stopped fighting and let the Somme swallow me up.”
“Stop it.” She grasped his ice-cold hand and rubbed it between her own. “You’re frightening me.”
He shook his head as if trying to clear it. “Sorry.”
“When and where shall I meet you?”
“Outside Madame Burgoyne’s, 0900 hours.”
“I’ll be there.”
After Mark left, she hurried off to find Major Vincent but was shocked to find he had gone to one of the English field hospitals for a few days. Nothing else for it but to confront Ella.
“I know it is short notice, but could I have a forty-eight-hour leave pass from tomorrow?”
When the Senior Sister said nothing, Amy babbled on. “I’ve got a chance for a lift into Paris, thought I could catch up with my New Zealand friend Kathleen. I’ve got time owing.”
Ella gazed at her intensely for a moment, her lips thinned, but her voice sounded the same as always. “I suppose so. They tell me we’ll be quiet for the next few days.”
“I can have the pass?”
“Yes, yes, but I’m too busy at the moment to write it out. Pick it up in the morning before you leave, 0800 hours.”
“Thank you. Thank you very much.”
Amy hurried away. It had been easier than she thought. Ella did not know she was meeting Mark. Had she done so, she would have locked her up and thrown away the key. What an awful woman, having an affair with Colonel Justice yet still lusting after Mark.
“I don’t like it,” Jane said when Amy told her. “Ella’s not so busy she couldn’t spare a couple of minutes to write out a leave pass. She’s never been known for her generosity before, particularly toward you.”
“She did surprise me. Actually, I sometimes think Ella hates me.”
“She does. You should have got that leave pass signed. I wouldn’t put it past her to refuse you permission at the last minute.”
****
At 0800 hours Amy walked into Ella’s office. By 0815 hours she started to worry. Ella, with all her faults, was a stickler for punctuality. By 0830 she became frantic. If she didn’t leave now, there wouldn’t be enough time to walk to Madame Burgoyne’s. Had Ella done it on purpose? She remembered Jane’s caustic comments. I’m going anyway. I’m not missing out on a chance to spend time with Mark. She waited another couple of minutes, debating the ramifications of her actions, then left.
The staff car waited for her. Mark and an English major sat in the back, leaving the front passenger seat free for her. The driver gave her a friendly grin as he opened the door and took her small case.
“Sister Smithfield, I’d like you to meet Major Douglas,” Mark made the introductions formally.
“Good morning, sirs,” she replied stiffly. “Thank you for offering me a lift.”
“My pleasure.” Major Douglas’ upper-class accent somehow grated in the confines of the car. “You didn’t tell me our passenger would be a beautiful young lady. Selfish dog, Mark. I suppose you wanted to keep her all to yourself.”
“I heard Sister Smithfield needed a lift to Paris,” Mark replied curtly. “Knowing you had a spare seat and wouldn’t mind, I offered.”
“I would have minded if she’d been a straight-laced old dragon. How about having dinner with me tonight?”
“Sorry, sir, I’ve made other arrangements.”
“Tomorrow?”
“For God’s sake, Ashley,” Mark snapped. “You think every pretty woman in France is fair game for you.”
“They are.”
“What would Jennifer say?”
“Nothing. She knew my reputation when she married me. It’s a marriage of convenience, as you well know. She wanted a title, I had to beget legal heirs—a suitable arrangement all round.”
Amy’s stomach curdled with distaste, to think people could enter into marriage for such cynical reasons. She clenched her teeth so as not to tell Major Douglas exactly how reprehensible he was. Did Mark too think of marriage as a commodity to be bartered and sold to the highest bidder? He belonged to the same social circle as Major Douglas and Colonel Clive Jamieson. Icy fingers played up and down her spine. Could she be nothing more than a plaything for him? A mere diversion until the war ended and he could go back to doing whatever he did before it all started?
I have to believe it’s more or I’ll go out of my mind. She wanted him to hold her right now, to kiss away her fears and say how much he loved her even if he couldn’t or wouldn’t offer marriage. He didn’t, of course. He jHHust sat in the back of the car as silent and unbending as the Sphinx. By the time they reached Paris, her head ached so badly she thought it might explode.
“Where would you like to be dropped off, Sister?” Major Douglas asked.
“The Ritz,” Mark said. “I’m staying there. Sister Smithfield can telephone her friends to pick her up.”
“Yes, thank you, Captain Tremayne. That sounds an ideal arrangement,” she agreed sti
ffly.
After Major Douglas drove off, Amy rounded on Mark. “Sister Smithfield indeed! You made me feel like an inconvenient piece of luggage.”
“What did you want me to do? Tell him we planned to spend time together?”
“Why not? It would have been the honest thing to do.”
“He and I used to move in the same social circle.”
“Well, excuse me. We couldn’t possibly have your exalted name bandied around with a mere nurse, now, could we?”
“You’re being foolish. I was thinking of you.”
“I’m sure you were,” she spat.
“Amy, please, let’s not argue.”
He took her by the elbow and guided her through the impressive entrance foyer.
“We’re staying here?” she squeaked.
“Yes, nothing but the best for my lovely Amy.”
“But…” Such luxury. She had never seen anything like it.
The main color scheme for the suite of rooms Mark booked for her was blue, white, and gray. White muslin curtains fluttered at the open window. An enormous brass bed covered with a blue quilted counterpane stood in the middle of the room. The fitted cupboards appeared spacious, and Amy giggled nervously as she glanced at her small case.
“They’ve turned one of the floors into a hospital for wounded French officers,” he said, shrugging out of his jacket. “I’ll ring for some tea to be sent up, and then I’ll go to my room and change.”
“Thank you. I have a headache.” Between guilt from not getting a leave pass signed by Ella and the company of a despicable creature like Major Douglas, it was no wonder her head felt ready to split wide open.
“I thought you might have. You’ve been rubbing your forehead every so often. What’s wrong, darling?”
“I don’t know.”
“I suppose Ashley upset you.”
“Yes. How could a man speak about his marriage in such a cold-blooded way?”
“Forget him. He’s always been a self-centered, unscrupulous cad, only son of doting, filthy-rich parents. His father is an Earl, so you can imagine what he stands to inherit.”
A Rose in No-Man's Land Page 11
