A Rose in No-Man's Land (4 page)

“Ah, regaling Smithy with some of the darker secrets in your life.”

“Something like that.” Mark took the cup and saucer Sophie handed him.

“I wish I’d been born a man.” Amy deliberately changed the subject. “I’d have joined the Light Horse to give those Huns something to think about. Did you read in the papers about those barbarians killing Belgian babies?”

“Oh, Guy.” Fear wiped the color from Sophie’s cheeks.

Amy felt like biting her tongue out. “Don’t take any notice of my ravings. You know how I exaggerate things.”

Guy turned on Amy. “You ought to have more sense.” He picked up one of Sophie’s trembling hands and clasped it between his own. “It’s all right. We probably won’t even leave Broadmeadows. Everyone is predicting the war will be over by Christmas.”

Sophie’s eyes swam with tears. “Is that right, Captain Tremayne? I’m frightened for Guy. I know it’s selfish, and I should be brave like the other soldiers’ wives, but I can’t.”

“If you would excuse me.” Mark put his cup down and stood up. “The British Expeditionary Force is made up of the finest regiments in the world. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“I’m going to show Mark around outside.” Amy jumped up and started out of the parlor, ignoring Guy’s frown. Surely he didn’t expect her to be chaperoned? They were only going to the stables.

“Heavens, I can be tactless sometimes,” she berated herself out in the hallway. “I keep forgetting how sensitive Sophie is.”

“You’re too impetuous, Sister Amy.”

“Now look here.” She stopped so suddenly he cannoned into her. “Don’t call me that, not at home, anyway.”

His hands clamped on either shoulder, spinning her around until their bodies touched. His head lowered. Would he kiss her? Excitement skidded along her nerve endings. She waited for a kiss that never came.

“Let’s go,” he said huskily, putting a couple of paces between them.

The stables, built out of honey-colored stone blocks, had green painted woodwork. She waved to Jacky, one of Uncle Frederick’s grooms, as they entered. There were several stalls and loose-boxes. The smell of fresh hay and horses still had the power to excite her.

Mark strolled over to the second stall and whistled softly to the coal black stallion Uncle Frederick always rode.

“What a splendid fellow you are.”

His voice, a soft caress, created a strange sensation in Amy’s heart. Were these the tones he used when making love to a woman? Heat flooded her cheeks at such shocking, wanton thoughts.

“Uncle Frederick calls him Midnight.”

“Appropriate.”

“Guy would let you take him for a ride if you thought you could handle him.”

“I’ve spent time in the cavalry. I could handle you, couldn’t I, my beauty?”

Midnight, who normally hated everyone except Uncle Frederick and Jacky, meekly accepted Mark’s caresses.

Amy stepped closer, marveling at the gentleness of Mark’s powerful hands as he patted Midnight’s neck in long, slow strokes.

Mesmerized, she didn’t see his hand move but felt a quick tug on the ribbon securing her hair, letting it cascade over her shoulders.

“Gossamer fine.” He dribbled the strands through his fingers. “Smells like roses.” He bunched it together. “I’ve never seen such a color before. Why are you so lovely?”

Giving a strangled groan, he swung her around to face him. His lips fastened on hers, caressing, suckling, drawing her lower lip gently into his mouth to taste her more fully. Desire seared white hot through every fiber of her being. She had never felt such a raw, powerful surge before.

“Enough.” He pushed her to one side. “What the hell are you doing to me? I haven’t lost my head like this in years.” The words came out in short, labored pants.

She put out a hand to touch him, but he stiffened away.

“Please forgive my caddish behavior, and be assured, it won’t happen again.”

“I didn’t think it was caddish,” she whispered shakily.

He swung around and strode off.

Amy forced herself to follow a few paces behind him until they made it to the house.

Back in the parlor, they met up with a grinning Guy. Sophie’s eyes shone, her cheeks tinged with pink, as she sat on the couch with her hand resting on Guy’s knee.

“You’re back.” Sophie smiled.

“Yes. You’ve got a fine stable, Guy. Amy tells me you wouldn’t object if I took Midnight for a ride.”

“Choose any mount you want. I prefer a quieter steed myself.” He grinned good-naturedly. “You need strong arms for Midnight. Father and Jacky are the only ones who can handle him around here. Say, are you all right, Smithy? You look strange.”

“You’re imagining things. I’ve never been better,” Amy answered, giving a high-pitched, brittle laugh. “Will we start dinner, Soph?”

“Yes, but I can do it. You must be tired after your journey.”

“No, just anxious for some home cooking.”

Amy couldn’t wait to leave the parlor. Concentrating on dinner preparations might give her time to recover from the turmoil of Mark’s kiss and his behavior afterwards.

The cheerful kitchen sported red-and-white-checked curtains at the windows. A large bread oven took up almost the whole of one wall. When Uncle Frederick was home they ate in the dining room but in his absence sat around the scrubbed pine table in the kitchen.

“We could go for a picnic tomorrow,” Sophie suggested. “The men could ride, and we could go in the jinker.”

“Sounds lovely.” Amy much preferred riding, but Sophie didn’t like horses. “I’ll make some scones,” she volunteered. “They’re one of the few things I can cook well.”

She rolled up her sleeves and sorted through the ingredients. Envy knifed into her heart when she saw Mark and Guy strolling toward the dairy.

“The men are going to milk for you.” She started sieving the flour.

“Yes, Guy doesn’t want me overdoing things,” Sophie admitted, flushing prettily. “I…we…we’re going to have a baby.”

“I’m so pleased for you!” Amy threw her arms around the other girl. No wonder Guy had been grinning like a Cheshire cat when she and Mark came in.

Amy set to work with a will. A baby in the house at last! She chuckled. Hard to imagine Guy as a father, but Sophie was a born mother.

One day I’d like to have a husband and children
. She kneaded the scone dough energetically. Nursing had always been such a driving, all-consuming force within her, and she wanted to do her part for the war effort after committing herself to it. Could Mark be frightened of love? Afraid to trust women because his mother had deserted him and left him to be raised by a monster?

Could she make him need her? The timing was all wrong, because the soldiers needed her more at the moment. If they had met at another time, things might have been different, but each of them owed a duty to the Empire until the war was won.

Mark liked her. Even with her limited experience of men, she sensed this. Perhaps he fought his feelings because of his duty to the war effort. Her reasoning made the pain of his rejection somehow more bearable.

****

Dinner turned into a pleasant, relaxed affair. They didn’t bother lighting the two wall lanterns in the parlor because the light thrown out from the roaring fire gave the room an ambient glow.

“Anyone fancy a game of cards?” Guy asked, after they had made themselves comfortable in the sitting room.

“No, thanks, I’m too lazy to move from here. Let’s sit for a while.” Sophie stifled a yawn. “Why don’t you play us something on the violin, Amy? We could have a sing-song.”

“Smithy can make that fiddle talk,” Guy boasted.

“Is there anything you can’t do, Sister Amy?” Mark’s last two softly spoken words floated over her like an intimate caress.

“Not much.” She laughed, feeling happy. This would be their final leave before they sailed for the war. So little time. Why not enjoy it?

The violin, an old one Uncle Frederick had picked up on his travels, had a sweet sound. She lifted it from its velvet-lined case and caressed the polished wood with her fingertips.

“Ladies’ choice, Sophie. What would you like?”

“A polka. Come on, Guy, let’s dance.”

“Should you, darling?”

“I’m all right. I told Amy about the baby.”

“Oh, good. We’re expecting a baby, Mark.”

Guy appeared young and vulnerable standing there with his arm draped across Sophie’s shoulders. They loved each other so much. Amy feared for them.

“Congratulations. I suppose you want a son?” Mark clapped him on the back.

“Of course. Don’t all men?”

For a fleeting moment, Amy watched desperate despair pass over Mark’s face, and she wanted to weep.

“Marriage and parenthood are a beautiful combination, mate. You should try it.”

“It’s not for everyone.”

The agony in Mark’s voice moved her as nothing ever had before. Her hand trembled as she tucked the violin under her chin. To lighten the atmosphere, she played a polka first, watching with a feeling of genuine pleasure as Guy and Sophie danced. When Sophie got tired, they reclined on the large couch and sang bush ballads. As the fire burned down to a glowing bed of embers, they all moved closer to the warmth.

“I’ll get some more logs.” Guy stood up.

“Don’t worry on my behalf,” Mark told him. “I might turn in soon.”

“Good idea.” Amy stifled a yawn. “If we want an early morning ride, there’s no point in staying up too late. I’m beginning to feel weary.”

“Come and help me with supper, Guy.”

Amy’s eyes widened with surprise when he did as Sophie suggested.

“They’re being discreet and leaving us alone,” Amy muttered. “Sophie is in matchmaking mode. She’s frightened I’ll be left an old maid.”

“Not much chance of that.”

“Isn’t there?”

“You have such a fragile beauty it makes a man want to protect you forever. I only wish things could be different.”

“Don’t you want to get married, Mark? Have a home and children? I mean, when the war is over.”

“No, it could never work for me. It’s too late. I’m a loner now.” The flat, bleak statement filled her with an overwhelming sadness.

“Can you play anything other than Australian ballads?” He asked, in an obvious change of subject.

“A couple of hymns. I’m self-taught and can only play by ear. How about ‘Rock of Ages’? Do you know it?”

“Yes.” He reached across and pushed back a tendril of hair where it fell across her cheek. “I even remember some of the words,” he whispered, and his breath warmed her skin.

As she played she sang the words softly. Surprisingly, he joined in. His deep voice had a husky quality that made it soulful.

With the glowing embers of the fire, the intimate warmth of the room, and Mark squatting beside her chair, the words sounded more poignant than ever before.

The last notes of the violin throbbed mournfully before falling away, leaving only silence. Amy realized she was falling in love with Mark. It defied logic, as they barely knew each other. “When the war is over, do you think we’ll meet again?” She fought to keep the tremor out of her voice.

He picked up her hand and raised it to his lips. “Pretty Amy. My ways are alien to yours, my lovely girl. You need a man who can love and cherish you, give you children and a stable home.”

“After the war you could give me those things.” She stared into his eyes, drawn by their fierce blue, unchartered depths. “I…I love you,” she whispered, knowing full well the words were better left unsaid.

“My lovely Amy. I have nothing to offer. The first time we met, you were like a ray of sunshine brightening up my dull, jaded existence. The more I saw of you, the bigger the danger you posed to my peace of mind—that’s why I treated you harshly. I’ve fought my feelings for you,” he went on passionately. “Kept telling myself it was only lust I felt, but—my God! A man going to war shouldn’t tempt fate by lying to himself.”

He pulled her into his arms and held her close for a moment, then lowered his head, as if he couldn’t help himself. “Open your mouth, my lovely girl,” he whispered. “I want to sleep tonight with the taste of your lips on mine.”

Her arms slipped around his neck.

He feathered tiny kisses all over her face, until their lips finally clung together for one heart-stopping, sweet moment.

“Enough. I don’t have the right.” He dragged his mouth away. “Oh, God, why are you so beautiful? I shouldn’t have kissed you, but I wanted to, more than anything else in the world. It might be best if I leave in the morning. I’ll get the train back, and Guy can have the car.”

“We’ve only got this short time together. Can’t we forget everything else? We’ll be off to the war soon.” Tears glistened on her eyelashes. “I may never see you again. There is something special between us; even Guy noticed it. For the time we’ve got together, there’s no outside world for us.” Her voice broke, and tears burned at the back of her eyes. “No future, no past, just now.”

“I love you more than life itself,” he confessed brokenly. “I haven’t uttered those words or even thought about them in years. I wish we had a future. I’d die for you, but I can never make you my wife.”

In the flickering firelight, Amy watched all animation drain from his face. Only his eyes remained alive, burning fever bright, vividly blue.

“I’m tied to a dead woman who rules me more ruthlessly from the grave than she ever did in life.”

“Why?” The word ripped from her throat, harsh, broken, and full of despair. A sudden sob racked the whole of her body.

“Listen to me.” He owed Amy the truth, or part of it, at least. The whole sordid story would never see the light of day. Not if he wanted to protect Edwina. No sacrifice would be too great, he had always thought. It had been easy—until he met Amy. Now he felt as if he was sinking into a black bottomless pit where the sun could never reach.

She cringed away as he went to touch her, and he felt as if someone had hammered a red-hot nail into his heart.

“I was twenty-one when I met Maryanne.”

“I don’t want to hear.” She put her hands over her ears.

“I haven’t spoken about it for years. I met her a few days before sailing off to fight in South Africa.” He took a deep breath. “I suppose I was vulnerable after the way I’d been brought up. My cousin Edwina, the only person who ever cared for me, got married and moved away. I had no one to advise me, to warn me about rushing into marriage. I wanted to love someone and be loved in return, to have something to come home to. I desperately wanted Maryanne to fall pregnant before I left, but it wasn’t to be.”