So she was officially the world’s worst fiancée, but as she lowered herself on to a stool beside James’s bed she almost didn’t care.
‘Tell me, what happened?’ She glanced around, thankful that they weren’t admitting hundreds of patients like usual, making it seem quiet, although she knew it wouldn’t last. ‘Where have you been? How bad is it?’
James made a loud breathing sound as he tried to sit up properly, and she quickly jumped to her feet and adjusted the pillow behind him.
‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have started interrogating you like that.’
‘It’s fine,’ he said, but she could tell from the tone of his voice that he absolutely was not fine. ‘I’m . . .’ He made a hissing sound, no doubt the pain a whole lot worse than he was letting on.
‘James, no,’ she said. ‘Let me get you something to eat and something more for the pain.’
His fingers closed over her arm, stopping her even though his touch was light. ‘Stay.’
She lowered herself back to her seat, hand moving to cover his when his touch fell away.
‘Are you sure there’s nothing I can get you?’
He shook his head, and she could see how much of an effort it was for him, sitting up and talking to her.
‘You should be resting, but then I’m guessing you already know that.’
‘Mm-hmm,’ he murmured.
She bent low and pressed a kiss to his forehead, not caring who saw or what anyone might say. ‘For what it’s worth, I’m pleased to see you. I’ve been so worried, looking at every soldier on the beds here and praying it wasn’t you. Then I’d wish it was you because if you were here it meant you weren’t dead on a field somewhere in the middle of nowhere.’
‘Have you heard anything?’ he asked in a low murmur.
Scarlet shook her head, knowing immediately what he was talking about without asking. ‘No. Only that there are some convents in some of the more remote areas apparently harbouring injured soldiers.’
He made another grunting sound and she patted his hand.
‘There’s been a letter,’ he managed, before coughing. ‘His plane went down, but there’s no report of his body having been found.’
Goose pimples rippled across Scarlet’s arms. Maybe it wasn’t so far-fetched to wonder if he’d been taken in by one of the convents, assuming he hadn’t been captured of course. ‘I’ll find him,’ she said. ‘If he’s here, we’ll find him and any other soldiers being looked after by the nuns.’
She looked down at James, stroked hair from his forehead and surveyed his face. The other times they’d been together she’d felt so guilty, so scared of what she was feeling for him, but after what she’d seen since being here, something had changed inside her. Who knew whether they’d see each other again or what would happen? If she wanted to stroke his face and smile at him, kiss his skin or sit with him, then she was going to. No one else here right now, other than Ellie, knew that she was engaged to his brother.
‘Get him home,’ James said, staring up at her. ‘I couldn’t live with myself if I . . .’
His voice trailed off and she leaned over him, hand still on his. ‘I’ll bring him home if I can. I promise. But now we need to worry about getting you home.’
James made a noise, moved slightly, but it wasn’t until his arm came around her that more tears pricked her eyes. She’d been so strong, hadn’t wavered despite all she’d seen and done, but the moment she’d seen him and now with his arm placed around her, she melted and held him to her, just for a moment.
‘You’ll be the one to stitch me up properly instead of this patch-up job?’ he asked, chuckling. But laughter made him cough and she pulled up to look down at him once more.
‘You need to take it easy,’ she reprimanded.
He coughed again. ‘Says the woman who just hugged me.’
In another lifetime Scarlet would have blushed, but today she simply shook her head, blinking away unshed tears. She’d survived so much, been pushed so far out of where she was comfortable, and numerous times felt so close to giving up. She deserved to take a moment to indulge, to be with James.
‘You’ll be sent away soon. They’ll have you headed back to England for proper treatment. But we’ll do our best here before the transfer.’
He was staring at her, his dark eyes drawing her in. His face was tanned, skin dirty, but that didn’t make him look any less handsome. She knew that if things were different, she could promise to look into his eyes for the rest of her life and never tire of his friendly gaze and ready smile. Instead, she’d be marrying his brother and looking at him from afar. Maybe she’d never be this close to him again.
Scarlet sighed and turned as the hospital came to life with people shouting out, men being brought in as ambulances started to arrive more frequently. She knew there was only a short time left before she was summoned, that it was unfair to spend so long talking to one soldier when so many more would need her help.
‘I’ll have to go soon,’ she said in a low voice, fingers finding his once more.
‘Stay with me until you’re called?’ he asked.
She nodded. Despite the fact that she hadn’t eaten and would be on her feet for the rest of the day, she willingly agreed. Her meagre ration of porridge or a tinned sausage with some butter would have to wait until nightfall. It was a long time to wait, but it would be even longer before she ever saw James again.
She swallowed what felt like a rock in her throat, smiling down at him.
The next time she saw him, she might be married to his brother.
Please, God, she whispered inside her own head. Please spare James. Look after him. Please.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Lucy
She was finally starting to get used to the bone-deep thud of tiredness that made her wish for bed almost every hour of the day. But not the camp bed that she’d been falling into whenever she had the chance – her soft bed in her childhood bedroom, the one with the snuggly covers and feather-light pillow. Lucy sighed as she surveyed the new hospital she’d just walked back into. There wasn’t any chance of her thoughts coming true any time soon. She’d been surviving on snatched moments of sleep for months now, since her last posting at a makeshift hospital back home, and the only thing to do was to keep her head down and get on with her work. Besides, if her father had his way he’d be kicking her out of his house if she defied him and insisted on training at the London Royal Free Hospital School of Medicine for Women. Not that her mother would ever let that happen, or her brother. He might agree with her father on some things, but he knew how much she wanted it. He was proud of the fact she was a surgical nurse and good at what she did.
‘It’s going to be a madhouse in here soon.’