Ladies of Disgrace Box Set

by Vicki Hopkins

  “Well, I was, but after the maid left making my bed and straightening up my messes, I took my shirt off.” He smiled at Celia. “What are you doing here?”

  “You must make a kite for me, Stefan,” Celia demanded, pushing past him into the interior.

  “A kite? But—”

  “No buts, Lieutenant. We have all the makings here in the bag, plus two birches for the frame.” I shoved the bag in his direction.

  “So I see. Well, you might as well come in while I start my assigned task.”

  Stefan stepped aside as I entered and then closed the door behind me. He glanced at me with a warm smile, and I returned the sentiment happy to see him again. Celia interrupted the two of us.

  “Well, stop dilly-dallying, Stefan. We only have a couple of hours to fly it before dinner.” She thrust her hands on her hips.

  “All right then, let me see what components you have brought to do the job.”

  His hand delved into the bag and pulled out the rolled newspaper, glue, string, and pair of scissors. After examining the frame material, he approved.

  “These are super.”

  “Chosen by Carter,” I added. “Apparently, he is a kite expert too.”

  “All right then. Celia, are you helping? Choose two pages from the newspaper you’d like to use, and I’ll start building the frame.”

  I stood and watched with amusement as Stefan acted as the surgeon and Celia as the nurse, handing him the implements to make their flying paper with strings. The process looked curiously complicated with the sizing of the object, cutting the form, gluing it together, and adding a tail. The two had obviously done this before. The sight of brother and sister working together warmed my heart. After nearly thirty minutes of intense effort, the kite was ready.

  “You’re lucky there’s a strong breeze outdoors, Celia. Let’s go and try it out,” Stefan said. He flung open the door and limped outdoors, using his cane for support. “Now, sweetheart, you’re going to have to do all the running to get this up in the sky. I can’t help you this time because of my leg.”

  “Perhaps I can help,” I offered.

  “I can do it by myself,” she adamantly declared.

  “Remember what I told you, Celia. Run as fast as you can and let the string out bit by bit. When the wind catches it, make sure you hold on tight.”

  Not waiting for further instructions from her brother, Celia ran down the dirt road. On her first attempt, she almost caught the wind, but the kite took a nosedive into the dirt. Undeterred, she picked it up and started again.

  “That’s it, Celia!” Stefan yelled. “You’ve got it now.”

  She did. The kite ascended, and Celia halted her step, giving it more string. The tail wiggled back and forth as if it were waving at her in delight.

  “She’s very good at it, isn’t she?” Celia handled the task astonishing well.

  “It was our favorite activity back home,” Stefan replied.

  After he had made the remark, I noticed the smile fade from his face. Lines of sorrow crinkled his brow. As much as I empathized with his family’s loss of home and country, I could not comprehend the pain they must have felt.

  “Tell me about your home in Belgium, if it’s not too painful to talk about it.” Stefan’s eyes remained upon Celia, but I noticed his jaw tensed. He did not answer me straight away but kept watching his sister’s carefree playtime.

  “There is not too much to tell,” he announced in a strained tone. “We lived in Luxembourg. Luckily, Father had the sense to escape with Celia before the city came under siege.”

  “I’m so sorry, Stefan. I can’t imagine how horrible and frightening it must have been for them.” I paused as his painful countenance remained. “And for you, fighting at the front to save your country.”

  “Well, we’ve lost our country, but hopefully the war will be won.”

  “Yes, of course,” I agreed with enthusiasm. “And then you can return home.”

  “Yes, though I often wonder if I will have anything to go back to.”

  He turned his head and glanced at me for a few seconds. Suddenly I wondered if he had left behind someone he loved. It was foolish of me not to think he loved another woman. Nevertheless, I could not ask him such a prying question to satisfy my curiosity. The moment, at least for me, had become strangely awkward, and I put my attention upon Celia. To my delight, she continued to enjoy the kite until a strong gust of wind violently hit the paper. The strain upon the newspaper caused it to rip, sending it spiraling to the earth.

  “Stefan!”

  She screamed for her brother. He leaned on his cane and limped in her direction. Unable to come to her rescue as quickly as she would have liked, Celia stood in the dirt road scowling at the broken kite. When he came to her side, she stomped her feet.

  “It broke,” she snarled. “Darn wind!”

  I glanced off to the left and saw it had landed among the poppies and headed in its direction. A few moments later, I recovered the broken masterpiece and brought it back to its creators.

  “Well, I don’t think it can be fixed,” I said, handing it to Stefan.

  “Yep, ripped the paper.” He scrutinized it. “I’m afraid we’ll need more materials to fix it, Celia.”

  “Oh, that’s okay.” A slight pout pushed out her lower lip. “I had fun while it lasted.”

  He put his hand on her shoulder. “You’re a good sport.”

  “Maybe we can do it another time?” Her eyes lit up at the thought.

  “Yes, that’s fine with me. Next breezy day come up to the cottage, and we’ll try it again.”

  Celia tugged on my arm.

  “Can we go home now? My tummy is growling.”

  Her change from anger to hunger amused me, reminding me how flexible and changeable children can be. A part of me wished I could return to those happy and carefree days of childhood.

  “Yes. It’s time for an afternoon snack before dinner,” I said.

  “Don’t go.” Stefan interrupted. “I have some cheese and bread in the cottage. Why don’t you both come in and have a bite to eat?”

  “I better not,” I swiftly replied. The anticipation of Florence’s disapproval hindered my acceptance. “Celia, if you’d like to stay here with your brother, I’ll have the car come get you both for dinner. Would you like that?”

  “Oh, yes.” She gripped Stefan’s hand. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  “No, of course not. Run along inside while I say goodbye to Lady Grace.”

  “Okay.”

  Celia did not hesitate to sprint back to the cottage, leaving us alone for a few moments. In truth, I didn’t want to leave. Being in Stefan’s presence exhilarated me.

  “Thank you for bringing her here to fly a kite. That was thoughtful of you.”

  “Well, it was her idea.” I dismissed the notion that I held any responsibility. “To be honest, I enjoyed watching the two of you together. She’s an extraordinary girl.”

  Unexpectedly, he tenderly took my hand in his and held it. “Your hospitality to our family has allowed us to heal in more ways than one.”

  When he touched me, a warmth of adoration filled my entire body. My eyes lowered to his lips that I yearned to taste for hours on end. Moreover, an extraordinary urge to embrace him caused me to tremble. Afraid I would act upon the scandalous desires, I tugged my hand away from his and held it in my other.

  “I should go,” I said, stepping back. “Florence will wonder why I’m not tending to Percy this afternoon.” Indeed, she would wonder, because I had neglected my son today to enjoy the company of another man who was not his father.

  Stefan shoved his free hand in his pockets as if he needed to keep it in check. “Well then, I’ll see you later for dinner.”

  “Yes, dinner.” After smiling softly, I turned and walked down the road to the manor house. My feet felt as if they were walking on clouds while continuing to enjoy the sensation of his hand in mine.

  Upon my return, I saw Flor
ence gazing out the parlor window. By the sour look on her face, she had been looking for my return. As soon as she saw my approach, the curtain fell back into place. A rush of embarrassment over the inappropriate sentiments my heart entertained caused my stomach to knot. With Florence’s uncanny ability to see right through me, I attempted to rein in every emotion that would expose my feelings to my mother-in-law. When I entered the door, she stood in the foyer, waiting for me like a predator.

  “Where’s Celia?”

  At least she didn’t accost me straightaway about spending time with Stefan. “She wanted to stay with her brother until dinner, so I agreed.” Not wishing to remain any longer, I stepped past Florence to head upstairs, thinking I had skirted the brunt of her displeasure. In my haste to leave, she gripped my forearm, halting me in my place. Her fingers harshly clutched my flesh.

  “You are spending too much time with that young man, and I don’t like it.” She huffed. Her eyes narrowed into accusatory slits. “Your husband is putting his life on the line at the front while you run off and fly kites with a stranger.”

  “It was a simple activity to give Celia a moment of joy. In fact, it was the first time I had seen the lieutenant laugh since he arrived.”

  “Nevertheless, it’s inappropriate,” she sternly reiterated.

  “Laughter, they say, is good medicine for the injured. Bringing the refugees here to our home is more than giving them shelter, Florence. It’s our duty to help heal their souls as well.”

  Surprised at my self-righteous rant, I admitted those had not been my motives at the onset. Nevertheless, having only a few minutes ago witnessed Stefan’s sorrow over the loss of their home in Luxembourg, the extent of their pain became evident to me.

  “Regardless.” She huffed in exasperation. “I forbid you to go to the cottage alone.”

  Forbid? Her edict angered me. “Obviously, you do not trust my devotion to your son,” I declared indignantly. “I’m merely being a good Christian by showing our hospitality and making sure his needs are met.”

  Florence dropped her hand from my arm. In swift retreat, I sprinted up the staircase to my room and slammed the door behind me in anger. Without a doubt, I knew her to be right. Any further time alone with Stefan would only encourage my affections while the thoughts of my husband faded into obscurity. It frightened me, but I felt helplessly drawn to the young man who declared, “If you were my wife...” When he spoke those words, I wondered if he possessed the power to fill the void in my soul.

  Chapter Eleven

  A Friend in Need

  After a few weeks had passed, I awoke with the urge to flee the manor house and get away. My muddled emotions and my weak will ached to see Stefan every waking moment. The brief dinner hours were not enough to satiate my hunger for his companionship. To appease Florence, I refrained from visiting the cottage. After dinner, we spent brief interludes of frivolous private conversations, albeit under the watchful eyes of everyone in the household. There were days I felt stifled and unable to take a deep breath.

  After informing Florence I would be going into town to see Olivia, she gave no objection. I had neglected my friend for some time. With the Reyers and the Smits in our midst, I had focused on nothing else except my selfish pursuits and their needs.

  When I arrived at her home, my first inclination upon seeing a friendly face had been to throw my arms around her neck. I didn’t prevent myself from doing so either and hugged her tightly.

  “Oh, I’ve missed you,” I moaned. She deserved my apologies for hours on end. Over her shoulder, I saw her Belgium ward, Anna, and her little girl. After crushing Olivia in an embrace, I took a step in their direction. “Hello.”

  “Good to see you again, Lady Grace,” she responded, holding her shy daughter’s hand.

  “You know, I have a little girl named Celia staying at my house. She is ten years old. Perhaps the two of you should meet, and then you can play dolls together. Would you like that?”

  A large, agreeable grin spread across her face, and her eyes lit up.

  “Indeed, she would enjoy it very much,” Anna replied. “Playing with another child from her homeland would certainly be a treat.”

  “Well then, we will have to arrange it very soon.” I turned my attention to Olivia. “Have you heard from Thomas?” After hearing my question, her eyes dulled and she shook her head.

  “No, not as often now that he is in Egypt. In his last letter I received weeks ago, he stated that he would be traveling to Turkey.”

  “Turkey?” My voice squawked at the surprising announcement. “Is he in Gallipoli?”

  Olivia shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. What is Gallipoli?”

  Her answer told me she had not been reading the newspapers and perhaps just as well. The latest British and French offensive in Gallipoli were reporting heavy losses. Naturally, I worried about instilling fear into Olivia unnecessarily and decided to point her attention elsewhere.

  “It’s just a place in Turkey, that is all,” I replied, shrugging off her question. “Now, let’s not speak of war. Why don’t we all go out for lunch together? My treat.”

  “You should go and spend time with your friend alone,” Anna suggested. “My daughter and I had planned to take a walk together.”

  “Are you sure you won’t come?” Olivia said.

  “Yes, very sure.”

  “Well, all right, if you insist,” she replied. “Let me fetch my hat and purse.” Olivia ran up the stairs, leaving me alone with Anna.

  “You are very kind to let us have a few moments alone,” I replied, realizing she offered us the time together.

  “She has missed you, and Anna and I did plan on taking a walk in the park. I don’t wish to disappoint her.”

  Olivia bounced down the stairs. “Ready.”

  We left and strode down the street to a little café on the corner. “How is Benedict? Have you heard from him?”

  “Occasionally he writes to us,” I answered nonchalantly.

  “Us?”

  “Yes, he writes to Florence and me in the same correspondence.”

  “You mean his mother and you?”

  The painful reminder made it difficult to inhale a deep breath. I didn’t answer because we had arrived at our destination. After sitting down, I pulled off my gloves and picked up the menu, avoiding eye contact with Olivia and embarrassed over my husband’s lack of intimacy. Instead of discerning the awkwardness of her question, she continued the exchange.

  “I gather, then, Benedict does not write to you personally,” she stated.

  My eyes met her empathetic glance. “You have assessed the situation correctly. He writes of the war and his efforts but glances over private thoughts and expresses platitudes of how much he misses us.” I emphasized the plural form. Irritated over Benedict’s coldness, I spat my mind. “Besides, the man knows nothing about how to be intimate, even on paper. I’m not surprised by his actions one bit.”

  “Oh dear,” Olivia replied. She leaned back in her chair and gawked at me in surprise.

  The waitress came to our table, and we gave our orders for tea and sandwiches. The exasperation regarding my husband’s actions lingered, tainting the closeness I had wanted with Olivia. There were other matters of greater concern I wished to confide in, and I fiddled with the napkin, attempting to decide whether it wise to do so.

  “How are your boarders?” Olivia asked.

  “They are congenial.” A smile had replaced my frown as I thought of Stefan.

  “The Smits are a sweet couple. Gretta is constantly baking in the kitchen, while Hugo tends to the garden. They have kept themselves busy in the household, which I think is good for them.”

  Our tea arrived, and I turned my attention to adding a spot of milk and sugar. Olivia continued questioning the arrangement.

  “And the surgeon, is he often there too?”

  “No, I’m afraid he spends long hours at the hospital. He rarely dines with us in the evening.” After taki
ng a sip of tea, I continued. “However, Celia is an enjoyment. I do think it would be wonderful to have the girls get together in the near future.”

  “Yes, that would be delightful.”

  “And Lady Russell, does she get along with everyone in the household?”

  “Yes, well. She finds Doctor Reyer’s conversations stimulating.” A smirk curled my lips. “In fact, I sense she is interested in developing a relationship.”

  Olivia laughed. “Oh dear!”

  “Yes, it’s quite amusing.”

  Olivia thoughtfully sipped her tea while I mustered the courage to speak of Stefan.

  “A few weeks ago, Lieutenant Reyer joined us. He had been discharged from the hospital but is still recovering from a severe leg wound.”

  “You mean Doctor Reyer’s son?” Olivia’s eyes locked on mine, showing her eagerness to hear more. “What is he like?”

  My thoughts ran rampant with answers—handsome, attentive, kindhearted—my accolades could continue for hours on end. Instead, I chose a vague description.

  “He is a pleasant young man.” My hand brought my teacup to my lips, stifling the other words I wished to gush. Unfortunately, my pleasant thoughts about him could not remain hidden from the sparkle in my eye. Olivia instantly noticed my agreeable glimmer.

  “You find him more than pleasant, I can see.” She grinned. “Why is that?”

  When the waitress approached with our order, I sighed in relief. Another opportunity to circumvent the discussion had presented itself.

  “I’m famished,” I replied, swiftly biting into the sandwich. With my mouth full, I would be safe from self-incrimination. My actions must have appeared comical because Olivia broke out laughing. After swallowing, I scowled. “What’s so funny?”

  “Why you, of course.”

  “Whatever do you mean?” Naturally, I knew she understood the reasons behind my actions.

  “Grace, how long have we known each other?”

  “A long time.” I pouted, bracing for her reprimand.

  “Then you know by now that I am familiar with your ability to ignore subjects, and that sandwich of yours will eventually be devoured, leaving your mouth empty and free to speak.”