Olivia shook her head. “Of that I am sure, Grace, but you haven’t experienced the totality of love even though he is your husband.”
“On the other hand, I dream about it with Stefan so often. I even asked him to kiss me, but he was such a gentleman that he refused.”
“Doesn’t he feel the same about you?”
“I’m sure he does, but he is honorable and has not crossed that line.” I smirked. “You know, I oozed with green envy when I heard you speak of your intimate love and enjoyment with your husband. Even though he is gone now, you were so lucky to have experienced such a beautiful relationship when he was alive.”
“I know I shall never love another as I loved him,” she confessed.
“Do you promise me for his sake and your own that you will start eating again and find peace so that you can rest?”
“I’ll try.” Her shoulders slouched once again.
“Good then.” I heaved in relief. “I’m sorry, dearest, but I must get back to Stratton Park.”
Olivia rose to her feet and gave me a hug. She opened her mouth to speak but then hesitated. By the look in her eyes, I knew she wanted to say something but felt reluctant to do so.
“What is it?” I asked. She lowered her head for a brief second and returned her gaze to me.
“If I’ve learned anything, Grace, is that this war gives no promise to return those we love. Benedict may never come home, and Stefan may never return once he leaves.”
“Yes, I know,” I painfully admitted to myself.
“As your friend, I would never encourage you to be unfaithful to your husband, but...”
“But what?”
“But if you have indeed fallen in love with the lieutenant, then you must grab what you can of the few moments of joy it may bring you. Tomorrow holds no promise for anyone.”
The moral advice given before had diminished. In Olivia’s advice, though not so plainly stated, she suggested not to let my chance to experience what I had dreamed about slip away.
“I understand.”
After giving her a long hug and a goodbye kiss on her cheek, I left Olivia alone in her room. I hoped she would take my guidance to eat and sleep while cherishing the precious memories of her husband.
As I returned home, Olivia’s words to grab my chance for happiness stirred my desires to be free. Whatever that meant, I only knew it frightened me, causing me to examine my loyalty to my husband. The days were slipping away like sand between my fingers. Stefan would soon leave, and I would never see him again.
Chapter Sixteen
The Dark and the Light
As the days drew closer to Stefan’s departure, my private conflict increased tenfold. I lay on my back in bed, staring at the ceiling, wrestling within to make a choice. Perhaps it had been the full moon streaming through my bedroom window fiercely tempting me as the minutes passed. Whether the moonlight had bewitched me, I couldn’t tell when I eventually acted upon my impulses.
Hastily I slipped into a casual red dress I rarely wore, grabbed a shawl for the cold night air, and tiptoed down the stairs. A moment later, I slipped out into the dark of night a few minutes after twelve o’clock, unseen by Stratton Park’s all seeing eyes, and began a mile-long walk down the dusty road to the cottage.
The crisp night air filled my nostrils, and a slight breeze chilled me. It didn’t matter because the landscape morphed into a breathtaking sight under the light of the bright moon. No fear gripped my heart as I walked in the dark—only anticipation drew me forward until I reached the cottage. With a knuckle rap upon the door, I must have startled Stefan from sleep. I heard the rustling and shuffle of his feet.
“Who’s there?” he shouted, sounding somewhat alarmed.
Not expecting a midnight guest, I quickly calmed his fears that a dangerous stranger stood on the other side of the door.
“It’s me, Stefan,” I called out.
A second later, the door flew open to reveal him standing in a white undershirt and his army trousers. His suspenders lay dangling at his sides.
“For goodness’ sake, Grace, what are you doing here at this hour?”
My heart beat thunderously with such desire I thought I would swoon at his feet. I didn’t have the words to answer him rationally, but I knew if I showed Stefan why I had come to his doorstep in the dead of night, he would understand. With trembling arms, I embraced him, met his lips with mine, and took the kiss I had longed to experience since the moment he arrived at Stratton Park. He belonged to me, and I seized the moment with an ardent appetite.
Without prudent objection, Stefan took me in his arms in return. All of his unspoken affections poured into my soul like sweet, intoxicating wine. An astounding sensation of melting together as one overtook me, and whether it was right or wrong, he understood what I wanted. His lips pulled away from mine, and he earnestly searched my eyes.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes, it’s why I came.”
“But what of your husband?”
“What of him? It’s you that I love, Stefan. Everything I should have waited for in life, I have found in you. Please, don’t leave England forever without making love to me.” My voice trembled, and for a brief moment I feared he would deny me once again. A small smile curled the corner of his lips, and his adoring blue eyes spoke of his love in return.
“You have no idea how I have longed for you, my sweet, sweet Grace.”
No words could describe the heated desire that traveled through my veins upon hearing his declaration. An awareness of aching hunger engulfed me. A moment later, Stefan and I undressed each other and then clung as one. Aroused as I had never been before and handled by the hands of passion, I had arrived at an unknown place I longed to experience. A second later, he picked me up, laid me on the bed, and touched me tenderly in places I had not thought could elicit such blissful pleasure. The drought of the unknown became drenched in desire, and I experienced the elusive ecstasy spoken of by Olivia.
Perhaps I should have felt guilty for committing adultery with such lack of regard, but in all probability, I would never see Stefan again once he left for the front. With utter abandonment, we made love and poured our bodies and souls into each other. We both knew this had been fate and perhaps the only time together we would ever know. Determined to satisfy my thirst, I savored every blissful minute, experiencing the meaning of passionate love.
Afterward, we lay in each other arms, clinging to one another. My joy threatened to turn into sorrow as I realized the minutes were evaporating between us.
“I can’t bear the thought of your leaving,” I whispered. Stefan stroked my back, comforting my distress.
“Let us not think of it now,” he replied. “But cherish our time with each other.”
It was painful to admit we could never be together. Benedict would undoubtedly return after the armistice arrived, and Stefan would live with his father and sister to rebuild their country and home in Belgium. My mediocre life would resume as Lady Grace, wife to Benedict and mother to Percy, living out the decision I had made years ago to marry for convenience and not love. My destiny would be to grieve for eternity the inability to be with the man who brought me unbridled joy.
As the night drew near to morning, I hastened to return to the estate before being discovered missing by Florence or the staff. Dressing in haste, I gazed at Stefan lying on his back in bed. With his head propped up on a pillow, an endearing grin curled his lips. A sheet draped over the lower portion of his body.
“You have a beautiful figure,” he remarked. “One that I shall fondly remember while in the trenches.”
“Trenches,” I moaned. Even though I had no idea what a trench looked like, the notion of men digging holes in the earth for safety repulsed me. The horrors of war frightened me. “Promise me you won’t get yourself shot again.”
He jumped out of bed and drew me close. “There are some things in life, my sweet, which men have no control over. Whether the bul
lets fly past me or into me, only God knows my destiny in the days ahead.”
“Perhaps, but God never asks women our opinion on the matter. We are left, like Olivia, to suffer heartbreak when they are cruelly taken.”
“Those we love?” He cocked his head and chuckled.
“Yes, those we love as I love you.” After throwing my arms around his neck, I kissed him again.
“And I you, my precious Grace,” he whispered after our lips parted. “Fate has given us these moments together for a reason. Let us not grieve over our parting but be thankful for our time together.”
A tear trickled down my cheek as he spoke the words and held me in his arms. I glanced out the window and panicked seeing the breaking dawn. “I must leave,” I replied, grabbing my shawl and throwing it around my shoulders. “Goodbye, Stefan.”
Afraid my sin would find me out, I sprinted out the door and ran down the dirt road toward home but not without one last look over my shoulder. Stefan stood in the doorway, waving goodbye. It was a memory I would undoubtedly carry until the day I died.
Out of breath and fearful, I quietly returned. Unseen by anyone, I sprinted up the staircase but halted upon hearing the wailing cries of my son in the nursery down the hall. His high-pitch voice brought concern, and without hesitation, I entered his room to find the nanny holding him in her arms and pacing the floor.
“What’s wrong?” When I approached and saw his reddened face, my concern grew to alarm.
“He has a fever,” she replied. “He woke only a few minutes ago crying, and I came in haste to tend to him.”
“Fever? From what?”
“I do not know, my lady.”
Without hesitation, I sprinted down the hall and knocked incessantly on Doctor Reyer’s door.
“Yes, yes, coming.” I heard his voice and the floorboards creak as he approached. The door swung open. “What is it?” His bushy brows crinkled together.
“My son,” I gasped. “He has a fever. Would you be so kind as to tend to him?”
“Yes, indeed,” he said. “Let me get my robe on and grab my bag.”
As I ran to the nursery to wait for Martin, the door to Florence’s room flung open, followed by the Smits and a yawning Celia, rubbing her eyes. If Percy’s cry wasn’t enough to send me into a frenzy, curious eyes outside the door didn’t help. Naturally, Florence pushed her way into the scene clad in her nightgown.
“What is going on here?”
“Percy isn’t feeling well,” I calmly replied, keeping my panic under check. Glancing at Celia and the Smits, I pleaded. “Please, go back to your rooms and back to bed. Everything is under control here.”
Celia quickly obeyed after her father gave her a nod to do as told. The Smits nodded in agreement and returned to their room, closing the door behind them. Doctor Reyer made his way into the nursery and took Percy from Jane’s arms.
“Come here, little fellow,” he consoled, laying him down in his crib. “Let’s have a look.”
Percy wailed while Martin examined him. Florence came and stood by my side, her face drawn with concern as my own.
“What is it, Martin?” Florence stepped closer.
“Give him space, Florence, to examine Percy,” I scolded her, grabbing her by the arm and halting her approach. She scowled back at me, noticing my attire and unkempt hair.
We both watched as Martin examined my son with a furrowed brow. When he lifted Percy’s nightgown, I gasped as I saw a distinct red rash on his torso.
“What is that?” Unable to control myself, I stepped forward, pushing my way past Florence.
“I’m not sure,” he said, shaking his head. “There have been cases of measles reported of late.”
Suddenly Nanny Jane gasped. “My nephew had a bad case,” she said, “when I went to visit him last week on my afternoon off.”
“You visited a sick child and then came back here infecting Percy?” Florence screamed.
“No, now don’t go accusing the nanny,” Doctor Reyer said. “Unless she is infected too, there is no way she could have carried the disease except if Percy had been exposed to other children.”
“Has he?” It was my turn to scowl at the nanny.
“No, no, I would never put him in harm’s way such as that, my lady.”
“It’s too early to tell what the lad has except a fever. The rash could very well be a heat rash and nothing more.” He closed his bag and spoke to Florence with a reassuring voice. “Let’s keep an eye on him.”
As I went and hovered over Percy’s crib, gazing at my son who looked more like his father with each passing day, guilt washed over me. For the past hours, I had made passionate love to another man, and now my son lay ill. Had God decided to punish me for my sinful actions? Fearful at the possibility, I took charge of the moment.
“Then I will stay by his side,” I firmly declared, “and watch over him.” It didn’t matter I was exhausted, having not slept the entire evening. “Please go,” I ordered everyone in the room, wanting to be alone.
“I’ll stay with you, my lady,” Nanny Jane said, looking at me sorrowfully.
“No, you will not.”
“Let me know if you need me,” Florence said. She walked over and gazed at Percy. “Poor child. Perhaps it’s nothing more than the sniffles.” She sighed.
“Possibly.” Doctor Reyer replied, and at that second I thought the man incompetent of diagnosing any illness.
They both left and closed the door behind them, leaving me alone as I had insisted. Tears burst from eyes as my pent-up emotions released. Guilty yes, but sorrowful no. I had experienced the love and passion I had craved for years only to realize I would never know it again.
Chapter Seventeen
Back to the Trenches
The next morning, I awoke, slumped in a chair by Percy’s crib. My neck, stiff from having bent it uncomfortably, pained me as I moved. My eyes focused, and I looked at Percy. Thankfully, he slept peacefully. When my hand touched his forehead, relief flooded my heart that he was no longer burning up from fever. However, by his loud breathing, his nostrils had filled with mucus as a discharge rolled down his upper lip.
“Thank God, nothing more than a bad case of sniffles.” I sighed, taking my hankie and dabbing away the secretion. After, I lifted his cotton nightshirt and discovered the rash had lessened. A soft knock came at the door, and a moment later Nanny Jane entered, looking sheepishly at me as if she were guilty of everything we threw at her hours earlier.
“How is he?”
“The fever has broken,” I replied. “He looks and sounds as if it’s only a common cold.”
“Oh, thank the Lord above.” She heaved in relief, bringing her hand to her chest.
“Would you mind watching him now? I’m afraid I’m exhausted.”
“Yes, my lady, my pleasure.”
Still clad in the garments I had stripped from my body when seeing Stefan, I wearily walked to my bedchamber. Florence, coming up the staircase, halted me with a call.
“Grace, how is my grandson?”
Slowly I faced her and forced a calm tone. “He’s much better. The fever has broken, and he apparently has the sniffles and nothing more.”
“Well, that is good news indeed,” she replied. Florence stood looking at me curiously. “I meant to ask you why you were dressed this morning. You looked disheveled and out of sorts.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” I quickly replied. “It was a night of tossing and turning, so I grabbed a dress and went down to the kitchen for a cup of tea.”
“Oh, I see,” she remarked suspiciously. Her eyes narrowed at me as if she pondered my truthfulness in the matter.
“Please excuse me, Florence, but I’m exhausted and wish to lie down for a while.”
“All right,” she replied, pushing past me in the hallway. “I’ll check on Percy.”
Satisfied she suspected nothing had been amiss over my behavior, I returned to my room for a few hours of sleep. However, rest eluded me as th
e minutes passed one by one, replaying in my mind the moment I had arrived at the cottage. The sensation of his touch and his ardent lovemaking continued to fuel my body. Fighting the urge to run back to him, I rose, bathed, and changed my clothes.
When I arrived downstairs, I jolted at hearing the voice of Stefan in the parlor. While rounding the doorway, my heart sank as I witnessed him fully clothed in his uniform and a duffle bag by his side. His words sent a searing heat of pain through my heart as he stood before Florence and the Smits. Celia stood by his side, clinging to him tightly. Fresh tearstains streaked her cheeks.
“Before I leave, I need to thank you for your hospitality,” Stefan said. He looked at Florence with a sincere glint of gratitude in his eyes. “If it hadn’t been for the peacefulness of the cottage setting, I don’t think I would have recovered as quickly as I did.”
Florence caught sight of me standing in the doorway. “I’m sure my daughter-in-law will agree that we are most grateful for your appreciation.”
“You’re leaving?” The words flew from my lips without thought as I trembled at the sight.
“Yes, Lady Grace. I received word this morning to report back to my unit.”
“So soon?” I meant to say so soon after our intimate lovemaking. How could he merely pack and leave after what had transpired only hours earlier? Had he known of it beforehand? Question after question whirled in my mind, and my face contorted in distress. Florence narrowed her eyes at me as if she understood my near emotional breakdown.
“I’m afraid so,” he said. “Thank you again for your hospitality.”
“You are more than welcome, Lieutenant,” Florence remarked coolly.
Unable to respond, I stood dumbfounded, watching him say a quick, private goodbye to the Smits. Poor Celia clung to him crying.
“Stefan, don’t go,” she pleaded. “Please.”
He knelt down and gently placed both hands on each of her arms. “Dearest, I must go.” Stefan glanced up at me. “I’m sure Lady Grace will take good care of you while I’m away, and I promise to write as often as I’m able.”
Ladies of Disgrace Box Set Page 24
