Katie’s Hero

by Cody Young

  Katie gazed at Michael, too, worried by his pallid face and his ragged breathing. “I keep telling him, but I don’t think he cares.”

  “He was like this after his accident. I was the only one at his bedside then. But it was you he spoke of.”

  “That’s not possible, ma’am … ”

  “Katie, don’t try to pretend any longer. He told me about that chance meeting in London and that he longed to know what had happened to you, so I made some inquiries on his behalf.”

  Katie’s heart ached as she let the doorframe hold her weight. Mrs. Mallory knew the whole story. And it was no coincidence that Katie had come to live at Farrenden Manor.

  “He didn’t need to trouble himself about me,” Katie said, the tears coming fast now. “I was a stranger to him. A foolish girl — ”

  “A Titian-haired beauty. That’s how he described you. Lit up by a terrible fire that blazed nearby. He told me that he took you in his arms and carried you down the stairs.”

  Katie nodded. “He saved my life.”

  “And he couldn’t forgive himself for leaving you scared and in pain.”

  “I didn’t expect him to stay,” Katie protested. She had wanted him to, though.

  “You have to remember, he was engaged to Connie at the time. Sometimes I think the only good thing to come out of his dreadful accident was that it scared that nasty woman away.”

  “You didn’t like her?”

  “No.” Mrs. Mallory’s lips pursed after she uttered that single syllable. “He deserved better.”

  Katie tried to blink away her tears. She needed to pull herself together.

  Mrs. Mallory turned to go. “So now you know. What you choose to do with the information is up to you. I only hope you will find the courage to act upon it, my dear, if his life is spared.”

  • • •

  Michael woke when the sunlight filtered into the room and touched his face. He turned his head, and saw her. She was lying asleep on the bed beside him. She lay on top of the eiderdown, and he was underneath, but they lay side by side. He reached out and pushed back some of the soft auburn curls, very gently, trying not to wake her. Her rosy lips parted a little, and she stirred but she did not wake.

  My beautiful Irish Kathleen.

  He lay for a long time watching her, wondering if he dared to kiss her but he knew she would wake if he tried such a thing. So he just lay there quietly, running over what he could remember of the last few hours. Had she really said that she loved him? Or was it just a dream brought on by the fever?

  Just then, her eyes opened and widened in surprise.

  “Forgive me, sir, I must have fallen asleep.” She sat up and started rubbing her eyes to try to hide her embarrassment.

  “Don’t apologize. It feels good to wake up with a pretty girl in my bed.”

  She flushed.

  Michael answered her with a smile. He knew she had no idea how good it felt. For many months, his first waking thoughts were on what the accident had taken from him. Today his thoughts were all for her.

  She got up and strolled to the window to adjust the curtains so the glare wouldn’t trouble him. She turned back, and he caught her eye. From the way she glanced away, he reckoned she was embarrassed. She had made those wild declarations of love, hadn’t she? And now she was regretting it?

  He ran a hand over his face in his anxiety, and felt a good growth of stubble. “How long have I been lying here?” he said in surprise.

  “Three days,” she told him. “We’ve all been beyond worried. I can’t tell you how glad I am to see a change in you, sir. The doctor looks by every morning and he’ll be pleased to see the improvement.”

  “You’ve been watching over me for three days?” Michael said, incredulously.

  She nodded. “Mrs. Jessop’s been taking care of the children so I could be up here with you. I always meant to be a nurse, back in Ireland, you see, so it seemed logical for me to do it. Dr. Larchwood showed me how to give you your injections.”

  Michael looked down and saw two little gauze dressings inside the crook of his elbow.

  “I’m grateful,” he said. His face burned a little at the thought of everything she must have done for him while he was ill. She stood by the bed like a novice nun, and with chaste, cool fingers, she touched his forehead.

  “You’re a little flushed but your fever’s gone now,” she said quietly as she adjusted his pillows. Her movements were quick and efficient — motherly even — but that wasn’t what he wanted. He caught hold of both her arms, and held her wrists tight. He needed to hear her say it out loud, or force himself to hear the truth.

  You said you were in love with me. Did you mean it?

  But something stopped him. It was difficult to broach the issue now, in the cold light of day. It was obvious she didn’t want to revisit the emotional outbursts of that feverish night. So instead, he resorted to flirting.

  “Since we’ve spent the night together, why don’t you give me a kiss?”

  “You’re obviously feeling better,” she said crisply.

  “I’d feel better still if I got a kiss,” he insisted, and kept tight hold of her wrists.

  His tactics didn’t work on Katie. He ought to have known that by now.

  “I have no intention of kissing you, sir. You haven’t brushed your teeth for three days, and you’re in desperate need of a shave,” she said. “Let me go so I can fetch you some hot water.”

  Reluctantly, he released her, and she went over to the washbasin to find his shaving things.

  “Katie?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “I keep thinking of things that happened while I was ill.”

  He saw her face blanch and she bit her lip, and he felt a pang of guilt. His intention was not to embarrass her.

  She brought the shaving things over and sat down on the bed to help him. She opened it up and smiled, and he realized she must have seen the little picture of Rita Hayworth that he kept tucked in there.

  He took the little wooden box from her and closed it, firmly.

  “I only want to thank you, that’s all. Dr. Larchwood was difficult that first night, wasn’t he? And you made him stay, I think.”

  “I wanted the very best treatment for you, sir. I did what my conscience told me to do.”

  “Your conscience,” Michael said impatiently, “what about your heart?”

  He saw her eyes fill with tears, and she tried to look away. Michael scowled. Why couldn’t she say it? Why wouldn’t she repeat what she’d said to him that night now that he was awake and able to respond?

  • • •

  Katie went for a long walk down by the river. She needed to be alone with her thoughts. Yes, he had her heart, and now, he had the power to break it. What she felt for Michael was much deeper than any infatuation she had ever known before. This was real. She had thought she would die of heartbreak the night he nearly died in her arms.

  She walked further, knowing that back at the house he would be sitting up in bed with the children crowded around him. They would be swarming all over the bed, happy and excitable. Bob would get her chance to show off her new dress, and all four of them would be thrilled to see their “squadron leader.” Alfie would be talking about his inventions and George would be misunderstanding it all. Roy would be standing in the corner, taciturn on the surface, but happy all the same.

  She was in love with him, yes, but what kind of future could there be for two people as different as her and Michael?

  When she got back to the house, she decided to run herself a bath, recklessly ignoring the wartime guidelines to fill the tub only an inch or two deep. She let it fill up and up, and poured in a liberal amount of the bath crystals that she’d found in the back of the airing cupboard. After everything she had been through, she reckoned she deserved a good soak in a deep, foamy tub of hot water. But as she eased her body into the warm water and tried to relax, she could not dispel thoughts about what it might be like to love Michael �
� to really love him with her whole heart and her whole body. She took the small, precious piece of soap and used it liberally to wash away the troubles of the day, and all the time she wondered what it would be like to have his hands on her body. To feel his touch, his caress, instead of her own.

  Chapter Twenty

  Katie checked to see if the corridor was empty before going to his room each night, not wanting the children to see her. She knew this was wrong. He wasn’t ill any more, and the excuse that he might need her during the night was wearing a bit thin. Or rather, it had taken on an entirely different meaning.

  Of course, they hadn’t actually “consummated” their relationship. Katie still slept on top of the eiderdown, and Michael slept underneath. But it was different now. He would reach for her in the middle of the night, and they would kiss in the dark. His kisses left her weak with longing. Her desire to be close to him grew stronger all the time. The eiderdown barrier wouldn’t last much longer.

  “Katie! Is that you?” he called out.

  “Yes, it’s me,” she said softly. She closed the door behind her. He was already in bed, and looking so pleased to see her that she felt her heart lurch. This is wrong, this is all wrong. Feeling as guilty as sin itself, she hovered by the door.

  “Maybe you could turn the key tonight,” he suggested, “so the children don’t come in.”

  Katie was surprised. He had never asked for that before. But she did as he asked, and her fingers trembled as she turned the big heavy key in the door.

  I’m alone with him now, in a locked room.

  “Come here.”

  The space beside him on the bed beckoned to her, and so did his smile. No man should be allowed to have a smile like that, she thought. It must have won him dozens of admirers.

  “Don’t be shy,” he said.

  She nodded, but she couldn’t speak. In the light of the bedside lamp, Michael’s hair shone gold, and his eyes sparkled sapphire blue, for her. His aristocratic face was lean and handsome, and when he smiled again, she went weak.

  He stretched out his hand. She sat on the very edge of the bed, feeling ridiculous and awkward. She wore a soft, brushed cotton, white nightgown and fiddled with the ribbon at the front, “I’m wondering if I shouldn’t go back to my own room, tonight.”

  A flicker of concern crossed his face. “I thought you quite liked being here with me?”

  She put a hand to her chest. Her heart was beating much too fast. “You know I do.”

  “One more night, Katie. Just stay with me one more night.”

  “Mrs. Jessop knows.”

  “I don’t care,” he said.

  Katie closed her eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by a yearning to be held tightly in his arms. “Lord Farrenden, I — ” she began.

  “Sweetheart! We are long past that!” He reached for her, impatiently, and pulled her close. His mouth was on hers and she trembled and gave in to his demanding kisses. She let him push her down on the pillows and kiss her throat, she let him fondle her breasts only to kiss her mouth again, deeper, harder as if he would bruise her lips, but then softer, sweeter, and more gentle than ever.

  “You know I’m not a virgin,” she said hesitantly, waiting for his reaction.

  He stopped touching and stroking, and met her gaze instead.

  “Katie, even if it had not been for that night we never talk about, I would have guessed. You have a knowing look about you.”

  She bit her lip. “Is that so?”

  “Yes. I’d say that you have known pleasure at the hands of a man, but you have also known great pain.”

  He had hit a nerve and it was raw. She began to tremble. So this is what it felt like to have someone look into your soul.

  He continued. “You trusted Tom, and then he hurt you.”

  She nodded.

  “He was the reason you left,” Michael said, watching her face without wavering, as if he was trying to read her reactions. “Katie, did you have to hide what he had done to you?”

  A tear ran down her face. “He got me pregnant, but he wouldn’t marry me. He was too far above me.”

  “He was too far above you?” Michael said with a raised eyebrow and a hint of irony in his voice.

  “Yes. He wanted nothing to do with me when he found out about the child.”

  “And so you came to England to have your baby.”

  She almost begged him not to ask her anymore.

  Michael hesitated, and then he held her face cupped in his hands, and leaned forward to kiss away the tears. “Tell me,” he whispered.

  “I don’t talk about it. That’s how I get by.”

  He was undaunted. “You risked living in London with all the bombing to keep it a secret?”

  “I had no choice.”

  “Your family, your parents — they wouldn’t help you?”

  “I couldn’t tell them.”

  “But didn’t you want to tell your mother? If you had found the courage to tell her, maybe she would have understood.”

  “Not my mam. She didn’t want to know, and my father would have beaten me black and blue.”

  He swore gently under his breath. “I see. So you had to tell people you were coming to England to do nursing,” he said. “Or at least that’s the tale I got from Marjory Mallory.”

  “Yes. But the first nursing I ever did was for you.”

  He smiled and gave her a kiss.

  She sighed. “I found the address of a place that helps stupid girls like me, and I went there. It wasn’t a nice place, but I was grateful. I stayed there until … ” she knew that her voice was very shaky now.

  “Until your child was born and given away?”

  She couldn’t answer him. She didn’t want to say the words. Saying the words meant accepting the truth.

  “I want to help get your baby back, Katie. I know you will have signed papers and you probably imagine all is lost, but with money and a really good lawyer — ”

  “No!” She stopped him, touching her hand to his mouth, shaking her head. The words he meant so kindly pierced her heart. “She was never adopted.”

  His eyes met hers, as he began to understand. “Something went wrong?”

  “She was born too early, she was too little … ”

  “Oh, Katie,” he gathered her back into his arms, and she sobbed freely now. He held her tight, and tried to offer her some comfort. “I wanted to stay, you know. I wanted to stay and hold your hand. And I could have — we were bombed in.”

  “Nobody thought less of you for going. I was just a stranger to you, sir.”

  “You needed me.”

  They were holding hands tightly now.

  His blue eyes were full of heartfelt apology. “I don’t know why I didn’t stay. Fear, embarrassment, I suppose. Never seen a woman give birth before. Plenty of horses, of course, but never a woman.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Michael.”

  “It does. I thought a lot about it afterwards, I wondered what had happened.”

  “It was awful. You were better off out of it.”

  “You were so scared — I could see the fear in your eyes. I ran away from it, and that was cowardly. I hated myself for it.”

  “She was born about three hours after you left. And she lived only an hour more.”

  “I wish I’d seen her.”

  His words gutted her with their sincerity, and Katie lost her heart in the pain of the memory. Tears came fast now, tumbling down her cheeks. “She tried to open her eyes, Michael, she tried. She fell asleep in my arms. She looked like a little angel.”

  Michael wrapped his arms around her, and held her tight. “I’m so sorry. I thought it was the man you grieved for, not the child. If only I could give you another little girl,” he said. He kissed her forehead and cradled her while she let out some of the grief she had held so close to her heart.

  It was a few moments before it sunk in, what he had told her. She turned and looked up at him. “No kiddies, then, for you? No heir for
all of this?”

  “No.” His voice sounded empty and hollow.

  “It seems so unfair, that you should lose that hope along with everything else.”

  “Yes, it does,” he said. But she noticed, for the first time, that he spoke of this loss with no anger, no rage, and no bitterness. They held each other for a long time, listening to their collective breathing. Finally, Michael turned her face toward his, and his blue eyes were very intense. “If you wanted to, Katie, we could comfort each other.”

  She didn’t answer straight away. She stared back into his clear blue eyes and felt as if she knew at last why she was here, and what had brought them together. “Perhaps we could,” she said. “I’ll do anything you want.”

  He paused, gazing at her. In his eyes she saw hope, and longing, and tender compassion, but he didn’t move. Finally he spoke, as if it wasn’t easy to find the right words.

  “You’ve been crying,” he said. “It would be wrong of me to take advantage of you now. Go to sleep, my darling. But tomorrow morning, when we wake, I’ll ask you again. If you still want to, we could try.”

  She let out a breath and her tension began to ease. It seemed right that they should wait, and she nestled against him, enjoying his warmth. He knew everything about her and he still held her and kissed her hair. For the first time in ages, it seemed easy to set all her troubles aside and drift away into sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Michael lay awake for a long time, wondering if he’d said the right thing. He heard the clock striking midnight, and then he thought he heard it strike one, and after that he must have dozed off. He awoke with a start when he heard a noise downstairs. Maybe it was a rat. He’d have to speak to Jessop about it tomorrow morning. He lay awake, listening keenly, until he heard another distant crash. Someone had knocked something over. Something metal.

  It sounded like an intruder.

  Katie was in a deep sleep beside him, so he didn’t wake her. He reached for his dressing gown and hauled it on, then maneuvered himself into his chair as quietly as he could, and went to investigate.