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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 the 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.”
Celia’s lip quivered, and he gave her another quick hug.
“Have you said goodbye to your father?” I abruptly inquired.
“I’ll be stopping by the hospital to do so on my way.” Stefan put on his hat, tugged his uniform into place, and smiled at all of us in one sweeping glance as he swung his duffle bag over his shoulder. “Well, then I’ll be on my way. The taxi is waiting.”
“Let me walk you to the door,” I offered, keeping my eyes away from Florence’s disapproval. Stefan allowed me the honor to escort him, but Celia tagged along behind us.
“I’m coming too,” she insisted.
Slightly irritated she had taken from me the privacy I needed, I could only express my anguish through a whisper.
“Why now?”
“It is better this way,” he replied. “If I stay, you know it will only lead to heartache.” Seemingly uncomfortable as Celia watched our conversation, he looked at her. “Sweetheart, go outside and tell the cabby I’ll be right there.”
“Okay.”
Stefan pulled an envelope out of his pocket. “This is for you, Grace. Read it after I’m gone.” He looked at me affectionately while my lower lip trembled. “Goodbye sweet Grace.”
Immediately he stepped outdoors and gave Celia one last hug. As I watched from the open doorway, my heart broke. Closing my eyes, I couldn’t bear to see another man leave for war. I listened as the car door opened, closed, and the tires crunch the pebbles underneath its tires as it drove away. The next I knew, Celia had run toward me, throwing her arms around my waist.
“I don’t want him to die,” she blubbered, heaving up and down in frightful tears.
“Neither do I, darling.” Kneeling down before her, I held her tenderly. “Look at me, Celia.” She wiped her nose with her sleeve and then brought her eyes to meet mine. “Every day you and I will say a prayer for your brother that God will keep him safe.”
“Will God hear us?” she innocently asked.
“I hope so, dearest,” I replied. “I hope so.” We clung to each other for a few more minutes.
“Why don’t you find Mrs. Smit and ask her to take you to the kitchen for a sweet snack?”
“Okay. I could use something sweet to feel better,” she said, trying to smile.
As Celia ran down the hall, I returned upstairs to my room and closed the door behind me. My hands trembled clutching the envelope and breaking the seal.
“Dearest Grace. Forgive me for my abrupt departure. I think we both know that should I remain any longer at Stratton Park, we would partake in an affair with no positive outcome. As I leave you behind, be assured that you have captured my soul. If I could, I would marry you and never let you go. Providence, however, has not given us that gift. I shall, my love, carry you in my heart forever and cherish the memory of our night together. Love, Stefan.”
How brutally right his words were to my wounded heart. As much as I hated to admit it, the man I had fallen in love with would never be mine. Instead, my heart had to return to Benedict, but I refused for Celia’s sake and my sanity to stop praying that Stefan would survive the war.
Nervous Florence might find the penned note, I read it repeatedly until I had memorized his words. Afterward, I took a match by the fireplace, lit it at the corners, and tossed it into the hearth. As the paper burned and the words disappeared into unrecognizable ashes, I whispered, “I love you, Stefan.”
