Wives of War

He was right. Of course he was right. But she was realistic enough to know that their families mattered to them both, and a woman from a good family didn’t walk away from a marriage and take up with another man. Certainly not her husband’s brother!

‘Your mother will never forgive me.’ Her mother would never forgive her.

‘She will,’ he insisted. ‘And if our parents don’t, then it doesn’t matter.’

They stood together, so close, outside his house. She hadn’t even had time to acknowledge how pretty it was, with a big garden, away from other houses. It was pretty and perfect – a home rather than a house, despite the fact that he lived here alone.

‘What now?’ she asked, looking up at him expectantly, hoping he had all the answers. He’d lured her here, told her that he’d be waiting, so she could only expect he’d figured everything out.

‘I have absolutely no idea,’ he said.

‘James!’ She slapped at his chest and he caught her wrist, eyebrows raised. It made her heart pound, wondering what that look meant, and knowing they were all alone . . . She gulped. His place was so pretty and overgrown that she couldn’t even see any of the neighbouring houses.

‘I never actually thought you’d come,’ he admitted, shrugging, as he reached for her case and then her bag.

‘You had me from the first day we met, James. You honestly did.’

He grunted. ‘If only we’d known, huh?’

He was right. Perhaps she should have made a different choice, but at least she could put her hand on her heart and know that she’d tried her best to be loyal and faithful to Thomas. To keep her word.

‘Come on,’ he said, walking ahead of her and using his boot to kick the door open. She hadn’t even noticed earlier that it wasn’t properly latched.

‘Are you going to show me around?’ she asked.

‘No,’ he said, dropping her bags to the floor. They landed with a thud on the polished wooden floor. ‘I’m taking you to our bedroom.’

Scarlet felt her eyes go wide, worry streaming through her as he strode back the few steps between them and scooped her up in his arms. He kissed her again, his lips rougher this time as he claimed her mouth. If she’d pushed at him, resisted a little, she was certain he would have put her straight back down on her feet, but she didn’t want that. She’d dreamt of being in his arms for too long to let fear get the better of her now.

‘James,’ she murmured, his breath hot against hers when she pulled back a touch.

He stopped walking, held her still in his arms.

‘What if we can’t ever get married? What if he comes looking for me?’ she whispered.

‘I can handle my own brother,’ he muttered, ‘and right now I don’t give a damn about marriage. All I know is that he hurt you and he sure as hell doesn’t deserve you.’

She knew she would care, though, one day. That being a mistress, an adulteress, wasn’t something she could live with for ever, but for now, being in James’s arms was enough.



‘Scarlet,’ James called. ‘Scarlet!’

She paused, stopping cutting the roses that curled out on to the path that led to the house. She’d been on her knees, settled upon a folded towel, but she carefully put down her cutting tools and stood, concerned by the worried tone in James’s call. It had been an idyllic week with him – almost like a holiday away from the life she’d been forced to live since arriving home from France.

‘I’m here,’ she called back, seeing him come through the gate.

‘Scarlet, I just received a telegram,’ he said, his face full of anguish like she’d never seen before. ‘It was from my father.’

She crossed her arms and then changed her mind and wrapped them around herself instead. His words had sent a chill through her that she couldn’t explain.

‘What’s happened? Is it your mother? Oh no,’ she gasped. ‘Have they found out I’m here?’

James shook his head, reaching for her and pulling her into his arms.

‘No,’ he murmured. ‘It’s Thomas.’

She leaned back, pushed him away so she could look at his face. Her body went cold.

‘Tell me,’ she insisted, her voice sounding stronger than she felt inside.

‘He took his own life, Scarlet,’ James said as he blinked away tears, his body visibly shaking. ‘By his own hand, he killed himself. Shot himself dead. He’s gone.’

‘No,’ she gasped, falling, her knees giving way beneath her. ‘No!’

She’d killed him. There was no other explanation. She’d left him, and as soon as she wasn’t there to care for him, to be the wife she’d promised to be, he’d blown his own brains out.

She sobbed, crying as James dropped to the ground beside her and held her tight. She wanted to fight him, push him away and grieve alone. Because she shouldn’t have been here, she shouldn’t have put herself first, shouldn’t have given in and come to James instead of being there for Thomas.

‘This is my fault,’ she told him, wiping furiously at her face, refusing to cry any more tears even as emotion pulsed through her body. She’d made her choice, and she needed to live with what she’d done for the rest of her life. This was her punishment.

‘It’s not,’ he said gently. ‘Nothing about Thomas’s behaviour, now or before you left, is your fault.’

‘But he’s dead because of me.’

‘No,’ James said firmly. ‘He’s dead because of the war. That man I saw that day, in your home? He wasn’t my brother, and I’ll be damned if that’s the way I’ll remember him.’





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE


Ellie


‘I’m worried that we haven’t heard from him,’ Ellie said, taking some scones from the oven and transferring them to a wire rack to cool. She sighed. Baking and cooking were the only things that calmed her these days, and with the baby so close to coming she knew she should be spending more time with her feet up instead of trying to find things to do constantly.

‘Ellie, you’re exhausting me with all that jittering,’ her mother-in-law said. ‘Now come and sit down.’

She spun around, hands searching for the counter to hold on to as she stared back at Lily. She was going crazy. She was actually going stark raving bonkers thinking about Spencer, and the more she tried to stop thinking about him, the more she did the exact opposite.

‘You don’t think he’s . . .’

‘No!’ Lily set down her teacup with a clatter. ‘Don’t you ever say that, not once, do you hear me? Don’t even think it.’

Ellie nodded. It was the only time her mother-in-law had ever spoken to her like that.

‘I don’t want to go back home and wonder if he might be here, if he’s going to surprise us. I mean, what if he comes for me and I’ve left?’

‘My dear, you make it sound like you’re leaving the country,’ Lily said, her voice full of warmth again, tone soft. Ellie had the feeling she was always trying to soothe her, knowing how rattled she was. ‘Your mother needs to see you, and you’re better being with her now you’re due. There’s no need to worry at all. And if Spencer comes home, then I shall whisk him straight over to you.’

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