Chapter 28
I have a temple I do not
Visit, a heart I have forgot,
A self that I have never met,
A secret shrine—and yet, and yet
—Charles Hamilton Sorley
Expectans Expectavi
Lazy and content, Ash watched as Rook prepared to dress the next morning. He’d always been beautiful in a striking, rugged way, and the remnant of his leg was no different.
“I forgot you were a nurse,” he said, when he caught her looking.
She blushed but didn’t turn away. “Your surgeons did a wonderful job. You don’t have phantom pain?”
“Rarely anymore. The cold can be a bother.”
“Then I shall have to keep you warm,” she said, stretching towards his thigh, but stopping short, and gazing up at him. “May I?”
He nodded, and she leaned down to gently kiss his leg. When she looked up at him again, a wicked smile had spread across his face.
They didn’t make it down to breakfast.
The week passed far too quickly, as blissful days are often wont to do.
Ashley and Rook spent as much time as possible enjoying the idyllic grounds of Collingwood Park, strolling in the sunny garden, intoxicated by each other as much as the scents of lilies, calendula, and hollyhocks.
They read side by side in the library and ate more delicious food than they had any right.
Without ever asking, Davies seemed to know some shift had taken place, and he couldn’t have seemed more delighted, offering them ample opportunities to be alone while he worked in his study.
In the evenings they dined early, keeping country hours according to the captain, and afterwards they played cards or simply chatted, sharing memories of days long past.
“Here now, Rook, you must give us a tune,” Davies said on Thursday after dinner when their stories had all run dry.
“Did he ever tell you how he used to play for me when we were convalescing? My, but we were a pathetic pair, all bound up in our own private misery, only each other for company like two sad old hermits.”
“Until you dragged me back to London.”
“It wasn’t me who dragged him back,” Davies confided to Ash.
“No?” she asked.
“Course not. It was the hope of finding you.”
She turned to Rook, who pretended not to hear them, as he sat at the piano, but a flush had crept up the back of his neck.
Ash reveled in the chance to hear him play again.
He started with “It Had to Be You,” which made her feel warm and syrupy inside. She darted a glance towards Davies, but his head was tipped back, eyes closed, a placid smile gracing his lips.
Rook moved on to Cole Porter next and then Irving Berlin. It was as though he were playing a whole concert meant only for her.
When he began “My Blue Heaven,” Davies opened one eye. “Bit on the nose, don’t you think old chap? What would you have played if she hadn’t been wearing blue?”
Ashley’s cheeks burned, but Rook seemed to ignore him for a moment until he replied, “ ’Twas you who demanded I play,” and then reaching the end, he deftly transitioned to Gershwin.
When the final notes of “Someone to Watch Over Me” filled the room, Davies said, “That’s more like it. And now I think I’ll take myself off to bed, if you two can find something to keep yourselves occupied.”
“He’s not very subtle,” Ash said, once the door had closed behind him and Rook had joined her on the settee.
“That’s an old soldier for you.”
Ash smiled to think what her mother would make of Davies, not yet fifty, being described as old.
Rook took her hand and she nestled into his shoulder. “I wish this didn’t have to end.”
“The best part doesn’t have to, surely?”
She sighed deeply. “It will though. Real life always gets in the way.”
“This is real life. We only get the one, even if it feels like we’ve been granted two. Anyway, don’t worry about it,” he said, hefting to his feet and offering her a hand. “I’ve a spectacular afternoon planned for tomorrow. But to enjoy it properly you must get some sleep.”
“What if I don’t want to sleep?” she asked with a saucy pout as they made their way up the stairs.
Rook inhaled sharply. “Then I suppose it’s my duty to at least ensure you relax.”
“Your duty, Lance Corporal?”
“My solemn duty.”
And he turned out to be very good at making her relax.
Sleeping side by side or back to back with Rook, the familiar warmth and weight and scent of him brought Ash a peace and comfort she’d not known since leaving France. It was as though she truly slept for the first time in twenty years.
On Friday the cook fixed them a basket, and Rook led Ash to a wood on the edge of the property.
“I hope you’re leading me off to some magical fairy cave,” she teased.
“Something like that,” he replied.
Eventually the path opened into a tree-lined grove, absolutely carpeted from head to hilt with violet-colored bluebells, rolling waves of them as far as the eye could see. The little footpath was like a part down the middle of the ocean.
“Oh,” she breathed, taking in the sight.
“Good job it’s been such a cold summer. I can’t believe they’re still in bloom,” he said. “Better than a fairy cave?”
“Better than anything I’ve ever seen.”
“Stick with me, kid. Every day will be an adventure.”
“Do ladies like adventure?” she mimicked Captain Davies.
With a smirk Rook replied, “You tell me.”
They followed the path until it widened into a shady glade, and there they found a fallen log on which to perch for their picnic of cold chicken, savory cheese, fresh grapes, and creamy jam tarts.
“The cook has outdone herself.”
“Mmm,” Rook agreed. “She’s wasted on a bloke like Davies. He was never happier than with a tin of cold beans.”
“Maybe he was putting on a brave face for the men.”
“Can’t fake that kind of relish. He couldn’t get enough of the stuff.”
“I seem to recall you eating your fair share.”
“Well…” He sighed deeply. “It was war, after all.”
The mention of war brought her soberingly back. “I don’t think I can go through it all again.”
“You don’t know what you can do until you’ve done it, Ash.” He took her hand and added, “You won’t have to go it alone.”
She couldn’t bear to ruin their beautiful day with the clouds of tomorrow, so she smiled and kissed him until those clouds felt far away.
As they made their way back to the house amid the waning sunlight, the entire meadow came to life with a flickering, glowing waltz, and Ashley gasped.
“Glow-worms?” she asked and Rook nodded. “I’ve seen a handful in a jar, but never so many, not like this. Are you sure we’ve not been transported to a fairy world after all?”
“Blimey, Ash,” Rook teased, channeling TomTom. “You really are a city lass.”
Though Ashley found herself praying for time to stop, Saturday morning arrived as it always did, and the footman carried their luggage out to the Austin. Captain Davies came down, not to see them off, but with a bag of his own in hand.
“Are you returning to the city?” Ash asked on the way to the station, somehow both delighted to extend their visit and disappointed not to have Rook all to herself for the last few hours that remained.
“No indeed. I take another train today, north to Newtongrange to visit a familiar face—Logan Stewart. I’d like him to join our little band.”
Ashley’s heart leapt at the name. “Long-Leg Logan. I thought you said he hadn’t recovered his sight?” she asked Rook.
“No, that’s quite permanent, I’m afraid. But I have in mind some radio work. The sort of thing it wouldn’t do to write down in a letter, you understand.”
“Give him our best,” Rook said.
“Yes, please do. Though I understand if you’re not comfortable explaining everything.”
The captain’s eyes danced as they had on first seeing her. “You’ve snuffled out the real reason I want to go in person: to see his face when I tell him your secret.” To Rook he added, “I’ll send word when I’m back in town.”
“Thank you, Cap.”
Davies’s lips twitched. “It seems deuced priggish to pull rank, but if you’re coming back into the fold, you might remember I was promoted to major after my injury.”
Rook shrugged, and Davies sighed as though terribly put upon.
“Safe journey,” he said. “I’ll see you both in London?”
Ash nodded, and he clasped each of their hands before Rook tucked her against his side and they watched Davies go and catch his train to Scotland.
The railway car was crowded and stuffy, leaving Ash primly smashed against Rook’s left thigh. Her body lit with awareness at his every shift, their every touch, and she craved the way it made her feel alive.
By the time the train stopped long enough for them to stretch their legs, she was burning with desire, almost as though her skin knew their freedom was drawing to an end, and she wanted to seize it with both hands while there was still time.
Rook guided her down the platform to an empty carriage near the back of the train and, as though of a similar mind, he drew the curtains and wedged his cane against the handle like a lock.
The moment the train lurched away from the station without any poor unwelcome soul having tried to join them, Ash fell into his waiting arms.
Perhaps she should have been ashamed at how naturally she straddled his lap, but she was too wrapped up in grasping every shred of joy before they returned to the real world with real responsibilities and the ever-present threat of a real impending war.
He was just as eager, straining against his trouser zip, running his hands up her back and then around her sides, his gentle thumbs skimming her breasts, making her squirm despite the layers of clothing between them.
They kissed their way past Rugby and didn’t stop until someone jiggled the handle at the station in Bletchley. They both turned towards the door, breathless, but the passenger moved on to the next compartment and the train departed once again, leaving them safely to themselves.
Not wanting to lose another chance, Ash raised her brows, asking for permission as she took hold of his zip.
Eyes dark and hungry with desire, he nodded, and she smirked in satisfaction when his erection was finally free. She’d skipped wearing pants under her skirt for just this opportunity, and she was more than ready for him.
He rolled on a condom and growled contentedly as she slid down his rigid length, her eyes fluttering closed with pleasure.
“Both eyes open, soldier,” he whispered.
“Yes, sir,” she replied, locking onto the shadowy depths of his gaze and primly adjusting her skirt as though she weren’t riding every inch of him to their release.
Thus seated, his arms around her and his lips at her throat, he pulled sounds from her she’d never heard before—whimpers and moans—until he murmured, “Quiet, Little Bird, or the conductor will have us walking back to London Town.”
Then he captured her lips to hush her, before she had the chance to tell him she didn’t care if she ever got back to London because she was already well and truly home with him inside her.
The climax snuck up on her all at once, and she buried her face against his neck to keep from crying out. He soon followed, holding her even tighter against his chest, and they stayed cuddled up like that until Ashley fell asleep.
She was loathe to part from him at Euston Station, or ever again, and he must have been just as disinclined, because without even discussing it, he joined her on the Underground.
They took the Northern Line past Moorgate, changing trains at Bank to use the escalator instead of climbing spiral stairs, then on to Aldgate East. Rook walked her nearly all the way to her flat before he was finally willing to kiss her goodbye right there in the street.
As he faded into the darkness, the world’s color faded too, and Ash felt cold and empty when she let herself inside, like once again she was being ripped in half.
“Darling! Did you have a nice trip?” her mother asked, setting aside her mending.
“It was lovely,” she told both women, pausing to make herself an over-strong cup of tea.
“The seaside looks good on you,” her mother said.
“Does it? I suppose I got a lot of sleep.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.
“You look healthy and relaxed,” Frau Wintter agreed.
“You’re glowing!”
“I’m not glowing,” she protested, sitting down at the table with her tea. “Worms glow.”
“Worms? What an odd thing to say.”
“Beetles then. I saw them. A whole field of glowing beetles putting on a show.”
“A field?”
“Along the cliffs.”
“Did they feed you at the seaside, Spatzi?” Frau Wintter changed the subject.
“Yes, Oma. They fed me so much I can barely fit into my clothes.”
“Hmph.”
“Did you meet anyone interesting?” her mother asked.
Ash stirred and stirred her tea, though the sugar had long since dissolved. “Only the ghost of someone.”
Her mother crossed herself. “More ghosts, Charley?”
“A man I knew in the war. Captain of my regiment. Though I suppose he’s a major now.”
“Was he visiting the sea with his family?”
“He doesn’t have a family. He came back as broken as the rest of us.”
“You’re not broken.”
“He was recruiting for the Home Office.”
“In Brighton?”
Ashley shrugged. “Good a place as any with war coming.”
“You mean in case it comes?”
“I mean it’s coming. Just as surely as it will never be the last.”