Angel of the Somme: The Great War, Book 1 (13 page)

Sam reached over to refill Lily’s cup. His arm brushed against hers, warm and solid. She jumped a little at the contact, then bit her lip, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

“You’ve gone quiet.” He tilted his head toward her. “Is something wrong?”

“Not at all.” She took another gulp of wine, then twisted the cup around in her hands. Being alone with him like this, just the moonlight and a garden breeze, had subtly shifted the dynamic of their relationship. In her role as VAD, she always had a list of duties. Their respective roles were prescribed. Just the two of them sitting on a bench, sharing wine, like any man and woman might, felt a little terrifying. She didn’t have a clue what she was supposed to do. She wasn’t even sure where she should look. It felt quite like falling from a great height. Terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. A very curious sensation.

“You seem worried, Lily.” He placed a hand on her arm. His touch was gentle, reassuring. “It’s not my seizures that has you concerned, is it?”

“Oh no, not at all.” She snuck a glance up at the dark kitchen windows. “I guess I’m a little worried we’ll be caught out after hours.”

He paused for a moment. “If you’d like, we could return.”

“Do you want to return?” she asked. He’d seemed so delighted with the garden a few moments ago. To have this rapid shift seemed odd.

“I can tell you’re distressed. If returning would put you at ease, then I’d be happy to do so.”

“It’s not the worry about getting caught. Not at all.”

“Then what is it?” He clasped her hand in his, the warmth of his palm radiated a comfort down to her fingertips. He squeezed gently.

“I’m simply not quite accustomed to this sort of thing.”

“You’re not used to bending the rules? Now I can’t believe that. I’ve seen evidence to the contrary when you take on Matron Marshall.” He ran his thumb along the back of her hand in a soothing gesture. “Tell me what’s on your mind. Is there anything I could do to ease your discomfort?”

Yes,
she wanted to say.
Don’t sit so near to me. Don’t look at me with that tender gleam in your eye. Above all, don’t be so damned thoughtful. My heart can only take so much.

But she couldn’t say that. She couldn’t confess that she was acting so oddly because she was so smitten with him, so she changed the topic entirely. Distraction worked so well on his blanket bath. It was worth a try.

“Have you noticed what it smells like here?”

“Well, I didn’t quite expect
odors
to be on your mind.” He grinned widely at her. “You’re truly such a delight, Lily.”

She returned his smile, relaxing a little. “Here, close your eyes.”

He did. His lashes lay on his cheek and a smile played on his lips. He inhaled deeply. “Oh! You’re quite right! The scent is lovely. I hadn’t noticed. Too distracted by your presence.”

“And the wine, I suspect,” she added.

He opened his eyes. “It smells a bit like home, but there’s something else there too. What is it?”

“It’s my herb garden. Well, what’s left of it.” She glanced toward the overgrown tangle of plants beside the cistern.

“What happened to it?”

“The war happened, I suppose. I planted it the day after I arrived here—while I was still in training. But I had no understanding of how little time I’d have to take care of it. Or how Matron Marshall might feel about following protocol.”

Sam chucked and gave her hand another squeeze. “Let me guess. Herbs aren’t protocol?”

“Well, my herbs aren’t. Lots of our medicines come from plants. Poppies give us opium and quinine comes from the cinchona. There are so many others. Back in Vancouver, Father and I had great success with herbal cures.”

“Some of the plants look familiar. Reminds me of my mum’s garden back home. May I have a look?”

Lily held up her hand. “I have limits, Captain. I’ve got you out-of-doors, drinking wine. To have you walking about an overgrown garden wouldn’t be the kind of thing a competent nurse would allow.”

“How about a compromise, then? You could collect some samples for me, and I promise to be a good patient and sit here. And it’s Sam. You’ve called me Captain twice now. I have my limits as well, Lily.” He flashed her a teasing grin.

“Fair enough, Sam.” She stood and walked to the edge of the garden. She bent down and sorted through the tangled mass of weeds, searching for some recognizable plants. After a few moments of poking around, she came up with a few samples of greenery and twigs. She returned to the bench and settled down beside him.

“I hope you’re drinking some of this,” she said, eyeing her tin cup. He’d topped it off while her back was turned.

He smiled innocently and stared at the herbs in her fist. “So what have you got there?”

“I can’t tell you. That would be cheating. You have to tell me. You’re a farmer, a creature of the land—surely you know these simple herbs.”

“I didn’t know I was going to be tested. I might have passed on the wine.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“I’ll start out easy.” She grabbed a few of the small, rounded leaves and crushed them with her fingertips, then held them up to him. “Good for digestion and a cure for nausea.”

“Peppermint,” he said with a laugh. “That’s
too
easy.”

“Excellent. How about this one?” She pulled a few of the small featherlike tendrils from a stalk and held the herb out to him.

“This one isn’t as strong, but it’s familiar.” His warm hands gently enfolded hers, pulling her closer. He closed his eyes and inhaled. “Dill?”

Lily laughed. “You’re two for two.”

He lowered her hand, it remained clasped in his. “And what’s the medicinal use of dill? My mother mostly used it in soups.”

“It’s very good for the liver. In high enough doses, it’s an excellent cure for jaundice.”

Feeling an odd mixture of discomfort and a kind of giddiness, she pulled her hand away and busied her fingers with a twig that had some almond-shaped leaves clinging to it. She plucked a few leaves, then crushed them between her fingertips and held them out to him.

“Oh! It’s strong, whatever it is, which is a good thing between the peppermint and dill.” He held her fingertips close to his nose and closed his eyes. “It’s nothing like anything I’ve run across on the farm, I don’t think. Yet…distinctive.”

“Do you give up?”

“So easily? You must know me better than that.” He raised a brow. “It’s maddeningly familiar. Perhaps if I could…taste?”

Lily tried to pull her hand away, to pull some leaves for him to taste, but he didn’t let go of her hand.

“Very well,” he murmured, watching her with a very serious expression. He lifted her fingertips. His lips parted and he slid her index finger along the edge of his mouth, just tasting the tip with his tongue.

Her heart fluttered about her chest like a panicked bird in a cage.

“Mmm,” he murmured. “Tastes lovely. Is it…licorice?”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“So I’m three for three. I passed?”

She nodded again, feeling a fool.

“What’s my prize?”

“More wine?” She reached around for the bottle. It was empty, as dry as her throat.

“How about—” he raised a brow “—another taste?”

She gave a skeptical glance toward the remnants of the herb garden. “Really, there isn’t much left but garlic.”

“I wasn’t thinking of plants.” Sam slid closer to her. His warm fingertip glided along her jawline, tilting her chin toward him.

Lily swallowed—wanting this, terrified of this.

He leaned down. His lips, warm and soft, brushed against her mouth. She shuddered involuntarily and pulled back.

“It wasn’t as bad as all that, was it?” he asked, his voice soft and low.

As confused as she was, the crestfallen look on his face made her heart stutter. She shook her head. “No, not at all. It’s just… Sam, you know what they say about foolish people rushing into things during wartime.”

“You’re not a foolish sort though, Lily. Neither of us are.”

Lily considered his words. He really did have a point.

“It’s not the war. It’s you.” He wrapped one arm about her waist and looked down at her, his blue eyes shining in the moonlight. “What I’m about to tell you will go against everything my brother ever told me about women, but the truth is, Lily—I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. I didn’t know it was possible to feel like this.”

Sam kissed her then, and everything seemed suspended in time and space: her breath, her heart, her thoughts—everything stopped. The only thing she knew was Sam’s warm, tender mouth on hers. When she wrapped her arms about his neck, he deepened the kiss, teasing the seam of her mouth with the tip of his tongue. It was beyond wonderful and for a moment, suspended as she was, Lily wished she could remain forever like that, lost in his arms and his kiss.

“Mmm,” he murmured. “Much better than licorice.” He pulled back from her and she took a much needed gulp of air. He watched her carefully, seeming to try to gauge her reaction. After a moment, he spoke. “Maybe it’s the moonlight or the wine, but I feel quite bolder than usual. And even though I’m a bumbling farmer with a dent in his head, and you’d be crazy to consider me, I must tell you how I feel. I love you, Lily. Simple as that.”

“Oh, Sam.” She bit her lip.

“You don’t have to say anything in return.” He patted her hand reassuringly. “I know I’m not much of a catch. Half mad and…”

“No, Sam.” Lily interrupted. “That’s not it at all. I care for you, very much.”

Sam shook his head, relieved. “Ah, thank hell. At least Baden isn’t wrong about everything.”

“Baden? Why would you bring your brother up?”

“No reason.” He blushed again. Such a miserable liar. “And now, if you’d indulge me?” He lifted his hands to her shoulder, tentatively, then began to untie her white scarf. “I’ve been curious about something for a very long time. Tormented by it, actually.”

“Tormented?” she asked. “Such drama. It seems that Gordy truly is rubbing off on you.”

“I really must see what your hair looks like beneath this scarf.” He pulled her scarf from her head and folded it neatly, handing her the tidy, white square. Then he looked at her again with a question in his eyes. She wasn’t entirely sure what the question was, so she looked away—past his shoulder at the herb garden. He reached up again, and began to remove her hair pins with tentative motions.

“I’ve never removed a lady’s hair pins before,” he said. He concentrated upon his task the way a man might defuse a bomb. “How am I doing?”

“Very well.” She waited for a moment, then asked, “I’ve never had a gentleman remove my hair pins before. How am I doing?”

“I’ll let you know in a moment,” he replied with a grin. After removing the last of the pins, he ran his fingers through her hair, then leaned back. “I knew that it was auburn, but it’s wavier than I’d imagined. You’re so beautiful, Lily. Thank you. I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time.”

He wrapped his arms about her waist and pulled her back into his warm embrace, kissing the tip of her nose. It was sweet and a little goofy, but somehow the perfect thing to make Lily melt.

“You were saying, Miss Curtis, that you care for me. I believe you even amended the statement with a ‘very much’ toward the end.”

Lily took in a shuddering breath before she began. “But you know what they say about wartime romances.”

“‘I care for you very much’ should never be followed by a ‘but’. Didn’t they teach you that in Canada?” He gave her temple a tender kiss. “And need I remind you, Lord Nelson and Lady Hamilton had a wartime romance which has already become legendary.”

“Well,” Lily continued, “we’re also very different. You being English and me being Canadian.”

He leaned down and nuzzled her neck, delivering a delicious, long kiss just beneath her jaw that made her want to wriggle. “Cleopatra and Antony were from very different countries. Different continents too.”

“Things didn’t end so well for any of these couples you’re mentioning,” she said.

“They got all the bad luck.” His voice was low in her ear. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Miss Curtis.”

“And…and…” Her resolve was crumbling like a sand castle surrendering to high tide. “It’s against VAD rules.”

“Which you break daily without compunction,” he said as he kissed her earlobe in a way that made her shiver.

“And there’s your family,” she blurted. “They would think I was taking advantage of an ill man. They would think me crass and opportunistic.”

He pulled away from her and immediately she wished she could take her words back so that he could keep doing such delicious things to her neck. To her relief, he wore a wide grin. “Well, I shall have to stop you right there, Lily, and I won’t need a history lesson for this one. You ‘taking advantage of me’ would be the very last thing they’d think. You’d be terribly disappointed if you knew the truth of their opinion on the matter.”

“Well now you must tell me,” she said.

He shook his head and looked slightly embarrassed. “They’d be little shocked and a lot relieved that the unromantic, clodhopping farmer found someone willing to put up with him.” He looked down at her through his too-long lashes, his expression painfully earnest. “This likely won’t surprise you, given what you’ve just experienced, but before this night I’ve never even tried to kiss a girl.”

His honesty stripped away all her remaining resistance.

“How did I do?” he asked, biting his bottom lip.

“My insides have all turned to jelly and I’m finding it hard to breathe,” Lily confessed. “I think you must have done quite well.”

“Either that or you have the flu.” He grinned and kissed the top of her forehead, his lips lingering. “No fever,” he muttered.

She reached up and ran her fingertips along the back of his neck. When she felt his muscles shiver beneath her touch, a rise of raw, feminine power swelled within her. It was a delightful feeling.

For this one bright moment, the war, the world, fell away. They weren’t a wounded soldier with a dent in his skull, troubled by life-threatening seizures, and a terribly out-of-place VAD who struggled daily with the horrors of triage. They were just a man and a woman. Lily and Sam.