His kiss was rougher this time, more urgent, not the sweet press of lips like the first one. It made Scarlet feel alive, made a tremor run down her spine, made her want more. When Thomas had kissed her that night, the one time with passion, it had felt exciting, stirring, but nothing like this. This made her want more, made her think it was worth rebelling, worth doing something she’d never thought she’d do.
Guilt washed over her as she thought of Thomas, making her pull back. James must have felt the change and sat back, too, his fingers leaving her wrist and settling more softly on her hand.
‘We can’t do that again,’ she whispered, more to herself than him. ‘We can’t.’
‘And if your fiancé doesn’t make it home? Would you let me kiss you then?’
She pulled away from him, wrapping her arms around herself. ‘Don’t say that. James, don’t ever say that.’ Scarlet’s breath shuddered through her, the guilt unbearable. ‘Don’t make me wish that I could be with you when doing so would mean Thomas has to be dead. I love him.’
They sat in silence and Scarlet felt pain. A stabbing in her chest that could have been her heart breaking into pieces, shattering from the decision she suddenly saw in front of her.
‘Thomas?’ he said, pushing back, his eyebrows drawn together. ‘You said Thomas.’
‘My fiancé,’ she replied, confused about the expression on his face. ‘His name is Thomas.’
‘Thomas who?’ he asked, voice low.
She sighed, not wanting to discuss her fiancé in detail with the man she’d just kissed. ‘Thomas Sanders.’
The look on James’s face scared her, worried her, made her blood run cold.
‘What is it?’
‘And you’re Scarlet.’
Had he lost his mind? ‘What . . . ?’
‘My brother is . . . and you . . .’ He shook his head and pushed himself to his feet. ‘You’re his Scarlet. I can’t believe it. It’s you, isn’t it?’
‘Brother? You’re Thomas’s brother?’ Scarlet gasped, jumping up, feeling hysterical. Her fingers found her mouth, brushed her lips. She’d kissed her fiancé’s brother? ‘But he called you J, he never . . .’
‘Because our father is James,’ he said quietly, ‘so to avoid confusion I’ve always been J at home.’
Scarlet shook her head, forcing her feet to move, even though her boots felt like they were filled with lead. She wrapped her arms around herself, hardly able to process what had just happened. How could this man, the one man she’d felt something for, be Thomas’s brother? Or was that why she’d felt drawn to him? Similarities that she hadn’t even noticed, perhaps?
‘So, you’re Scarlet,’ he said, his voice softer than it had been before. ‘The Scarlet. I can’t believe I never put two and two together.’ He shook his head, shut his eyes slowly, as if he was in pain. ‘I can’t believe I said what I said, about him not coming home. I never would have, I mean . . .’ He opened his eyes and clenched both his hands at his side. ‘I’m sorry.’
She nodded, slowly turning to face him properly. She took a deep breath, her cheeks heating as she looked into his eyes. They were dark, but they were different from Thomas’s, a humour there that was impossible not to notice. He made her feel all kinds of guilty – the feeling worse now that she knew the connection.
‘I can’t,’ she finally said. ‘I . . .’ She was lost for words. She hastily folded her hands together. ‘I can’t believe it. This seems impossible.’
‘The fact that we’ve met, or that we . . .’
‘Everything!’ she replied, flustered, as she positioned herself a modest distance from him. ‘Meeting you in the middle of nowhere when I’m supposed to be searching for Thomas.’ It seemed an almost cruel twist of fate that she’d met him instead. ‘Falling—’ she cut herself off. ‘Doing what we did.’
‘Well, Sussex is hardly the middle of nowhere,’ he said, smiling as he made his stupid joke before clearing his throat. ‘But yes, I don’t think this is something we’ll, well—’
‘Ever speak of again?’ Scarlet interrupted. ‘Please tell me that’s what you were going to say.’
‘Something like that,’ he said, nodding. ‘I might not be close to Thomas these days, but he’s my brother, and I never would have done this had I known. My lips are sealed.’
Scarlet felt the familiar heat of a blush touching her cheeks, which only annoyed her. Given the job she was doing, what she was being trained for, blushing seemed silly, and she hated not being able to control how she reacted.
‘You believe he’s alive then?’ she asked, ignoring his other comment, needing to act as though nothing had happened between them at all. ‘You speak about him in the present.’
‘I speak about everyone from home, from my past, in the present,’ James said, his voice quieter, more serious now. ‘After what I’ve seen, what we’ve been through, the only thing left is hope. And holding on to memories of before.’ He paused. ‘But I won’t ever tell him, and we can pretend this never happened. If that’s what you want?’
‘It’s what I want.’
The whistle of wind passing through the trees was the only noise Scarlet heard, the only thing that connected her to the moment, when what she wanted to do, all of a sudden, was flee for home. She hadn’t wanted to return home so strongly since they’d settled into a routine here, too busy learning and caring to spend time worrying about what she’d had before. Until James had spoken and reminded her of what she’d left behind, and what she was preparing to face. Why had she found him and not Thomas? How could fate be so cruel?
‘Did you know all along we were going to France?’
‘It wasn’t my place to share the information. Not even with the woman who’s going to be my sister-in-law.’
Scarlet wrapped her arms around herself again, suddenly shivering from the cold as clouds drew closer overheard, blocking out the moonlight. ‘So you do believe he’s alive?’
‘I want to believe he’s alive. Is that the same thing?’ James asked.
Scarlet stared into his eyes, saw something of Thomas there, although maybe she was imagining it now because she wanted to. ‘I feel in my bones that he’s alive, but I’m prepared to admit that it could be because I so want him to be. I don’t know. Maybe it’s just my way of refusing to let go until I’m certain.’ It was the most honest she’d been with anyone about how she truly felt.
They stood in silence, the woodland noises around them stopping it from being deafening.
‘What made—’
‘Were you—’
Scarlet laughed as they spoke at the same time, interrupting one another. ‘You first,’ she said.
He hesitated, like he was about to tell her to speak first instead. But he didn’t.
‘What made a young woman like you volunteer to join?’ James asked. ‘When you could have stayed home and been safe, done something less dangerous by choice? What I heard about the woman Thomas was to marry was more along the lines of a wealthy society girl than a roll-her-sleeves-up-and-nurse type.’
Scarlet didn’t know what to say. She stared back at him, truly lost for words.