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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 taking 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.”
She was correct. I couldn’t stuff it with food, tea, or even cakes for hours on end to avoid answering her questions.
“Very well.” After dabbing my lips with my napkin, I looked sheepishly at her, feeling a flush fill my cheeks. “I admire Stefan Reyer. He is a wonderful brother, son, and...”
“And what?” Olivia leaned forward.
“Companion,” I replied, choosing my words carefully.
My friend’s mouth gaped open, and she set her teacup down in its saucer with a clink. “My God, Grace. You have fallen in love with him! I can see it in your eyes.”
The recognition of my affections toward Stefan caused me deep embarrassment. To be honest, I hadn’t even admitted such strong emotions existed. His uncanny way of making me feel valued and adored had indeed incited a new sensation. It was that emotion Olivia had spoken of years ago. Suddenly Benedict came back into my mind.
“For heaven’s sake,” I replied. “I’m a married woman. How could you suggest such a thing?” My terse answer made me wince because I hated offending my dear friend.
“I’m not stupid,” Olivia brashly replied. “You have not admitted in so many words that you are happy with your marriage either. In fact, I believe you to be miserable.”
“Miserable?” For my sake, I should have scoffed at her observation but couldn’t deny it.
“Tell me about Stefan,” Olivia insisted. “What is it about him that has captured your sentiments so fiercely?”
For the life of me, as hard as I tried, I could not suppress my opinions any longer. Tears welled in my eyes as I admitted my fallen state.
“You have guessed correctly,” I blubbered. “My heart is smitten with the lieutenant.”
“Oh, dearest,” Olivia replied softly. Her hand reached across the table and touched my weak flesh by my teacup. “Have you acted upon these emotions?”
Shaking my head negatively, I could at least be thankful I had not yielded to temptation. Nevertheless, I had thought about what it would be like in his embrace, kissing me with passionate desire, and taking me in romantic fervor. Already I had committed the act in my mind and no doubt sinned in doing so.
“Well, that’s good news.” Olivia sighed. “Does he feel the same as you do?”
With trembling lips, I answered, “I believe he does, but we are both careful not to articulate those sentiments. After all, we are under the scrutiny of his father and my mother-in-law, who has already chided me for spending far too much time in his presence.”
“Yes, for proprieties’ sake be careful, Grace. I do not wish to see your reputation ruined. When the war is over, he will return to Belgium. You know that, don’t you?”
“Of course. I shall keep my girlish affections to myself. I’m sure when Benedict returns, this silly regard for the lieutenant will fade away into obscurity.”
The notion of Stefan leaving had not occurred to me, reminding me of the cold reality that pursuing such affections was fruitless.
“Is he staying in the manor house?”
“No, no,” I heartily replied, thankful he had not been. “He’s in the hunting cabin about a mile away from the estate. Because of his leg injuries, he was unable to climb stairs.”
“Well, just as well,” Olivia agreed. The worry in her eyes appeared to dissipate.
Olivia ceased to press the matter further, and we enjoyed a leisurely lunch together, chatting about other subjects. Afterward, we strolled slowly back to her home. My driver had arrived to return me to the estate.
As we approached the door, Anna surprisingly opened it. However, a grin did not welcome us in return. Instead, a troubled expression had dulled her countenance as she held an envelope in her hand.
“This came for you while you were gone,” she quietly announced, holding out the cream-colored paper.
Olivia sucked in a sharp breath and flashed a petrifying gaze in my direction. When her eyes returned to the envelope, her voice trembled. “I cannot read it.”
Anna’s eyes begged me to take it, and I gathered the responsibility had fallen upon me to read the contents. Slowly I took it, noticing it had come from the War Office. My heart sank into the pit of my stomach as I broke the seal and pulled out the folded letter. The written words trembled as they left my mouth.
“Madam, it is my painful duty to inform you that a report has been received from the War Office notifying the death of Private Thomas Gooding, which occurred in the field in Gallipoli. The report is to the effect that he was...” I halted. “Perhaps you should read it,” I said, holding it out to Olivia. She brought her hands to her mouth and stifled a sob.
“No... no you,” she begged with a quivering voice.
After gulping the lump in my throat, I continued slowly. “The report is to the effect that he was killed in action.” My eyes watered as I continued the remaining condolences. “By His Majesty’s command, I am to forward the enclosed message of sympathy from Their Gracious Majesties the King and Queen. I am at the same time to express the regret of the Army Counsel at the soldier’s death in his country’s service.” Tears flowed down my cheeks as I gazed at the horrified expression on Olivia’s face. I hesitated, took a breath, and continued. “I am to add that any information that may be received as to the soldier’s burial will be communicated to you in due course. I am your obedient servant, H. B. Cooke, Second Lieutenant Officer in charge of records.”
My cold fingers folded the paper and placed it back into the envelope. As soon as I did, Olivia’s strength drained from her body, and she fell at my feet in inconsolable wails of sorrow. Both Anna and I knelt down beside her, engulfing her in our embrace. As we held her in our arms, I never felt such dreadful anguish for another human being in my entire life.
