I hope you enjoy this latest chapter and I'll post again very shortly. If you have time, please let me know what you think. Your reviews are such a source of encouragement. Thank you all so much. X

CHAPTER 54

When Margaret had left the office, Grace felt her legs give way and she reached out to steady herself on the chair to the side of her. Her mind was reeling from the attack made on her, although she had always known that it would happen one day. Even so, the venom, which had been directed towards her, had left her stunned, and Roland had listened to it, too. She was terrified it would affect the way he thought of her, having her past thrown in his face by a third party. She could not look at him for fear that she might find a change in his attitude written upon his face. Instead she looked down at her hands, which were shaking.

"Grace?"

She did not respond.

"Grace? Look at me. What is it?"

"I've brought such trouble upon you. My relationship with Amar has now touched you. I don't know what you must think of me. I'm so sorry. Forgive me, please."

"There's nothing to forgive. Do you seriously think I'm bothered by her vitriol? You told me about Amar yourself; you didn't have to, but you chose to. If you hadn't, it still wouldn't have mattered because our relationship is about you and me, about our feelings for each other, and not about anyone else. No one is a blank sheet, Grace, we all have a history, and you know mine. The love we share shows just how insignificant such matters are. Margaret Quayle made the mistake of thinking I'm as shallow as she is, that my feelings could be swayed by something as insignificant as the cultural identity of someone you once loved. She underestimated the extent of my love for you and my own nature, which is to accept and embrace our shared humanity, and not to judge others. Sadly, in so doing she ensured that I had no alternative, but to judge her."

"You truly love me that much?" The surge of relief and emotion, which flooded through her, made her voice catch in her throat and she could say no more.

"Oh God, Grace, don't ever doubt it, not for a second. I adore you. I would throw down the gauntlet to anyone who called your character into question. Sweetheart, I love you to distraction and I'll protect you with my life, if I have to."

He looked quickly over his shoulder towards the window and, finding no one there, crouched down beside her and kissed her with unrestrained passion.

"I love you, Roland, with everything I am. To hear her attack you on such a personal level, and to know that I was the cause, was almost too much to bear. I blame myself that you had to endure her insults, had to listen to her pour scorn on us. I was so scared that you would feel I wasn't worth the trouble or damage to your reputation."

From his position at her side he said,

"My reputation? Grace, without you my life would be meaningless. My reputation is worth less than nothing to me, if I don't have you. I would endure any privation or hardship for you, my darling. One day I'll prove to you how much you are loved, wanted and needed, but until then, I swear before God, right here and now, to love you forever."

His hand reached for hers and he held it tight, conveying his absolute commitment to her through the intensity of his gaze.

The impact of the encounter with Margaret Quayle had only now started to make itself felt. Grace realised that she had been tensed against the expected onslaught even prior to her entering the office. The moment having passed, she felt drained as the adrenalin surge, which had carried her through, was replaced by a feeling of weakness and fatigue. She was clammy and shivery, too.

"Oh Roland, I feel exhausted. How ridiculous to feel this way."

He stood up and went over to the stove, where he poured tea into two cups and moved quickly to the shelf at the side of the office, taking down a bottle of cognac, from which he added two measures to the cups.

"Drink this, Grace; you're shocked and it'll do you good."

Gratefully, she accepted the tea and slowly sipping it, felt the warmth of the spirit permeate her body, helping her to relax.

"How do you feel now?" he asked.

"Much better, Roland, thank you. You always know the right thing to do, where I'm concerned."

"That's because you're part of me."

Her eyes filled at the sincerity of his words and the sense of belonging, which he engendered in her.

"No tears!" he ordered.

She blinked back her tears saying,

"I know. I'm going to visit the ward in a minute; I must maintain my usual routine, even if I am slightly delayed. The staff should see that this is no different from any other difficult situation, with which we have to deal. I need to do this, for you and for me, and I need to do it on my own. They must see that I'm not intimidated by her, nor am I hiding behind you. We're a strong team and I want their confidence in us restored. Goodness knows what damage she has done."

"Grace, you never cease to amaze me, and for the avoidance of any doubt, I love you."

She smiled at him and rose to leave the office. His fingers entwined with hers and their gentle pressure reassured her. She looked at him and saw only love in his eyes. The storm had passed, for now, but she knew it would return. Knowing he was with her, however, gave her the strength to face that reality and all it would entail. She left the office knowing that they would always stand united and that knowledge propelled her purposefully towards the ward.

He watched her leave the office, her slight figure diminishing in size as the distance between them increased. It was moments like this, when they had stood together to protect each other that meant so much to him. He could not recall a single instance when Hetty had done or said anything to support him. Grace was the antithesis of her in every way he could think of; beautiful, loving, generous, honest, he could go on and on, he knew. She did not flinch from confronting her worst fears, on his behalf, no matter that the emotional aftermath took its toll on her. Grace, he knew, derived strength from his feelings for her. Theirs was a true partnership. He hoped she would come back later, but philosophically did not expect her to, with all that had just occurred.

He sat down to record the morning's events and to make the necessary entries on Staff Nurse Quayle's record. At some point Colonel Purbright would learn what had happened and would no doubt demand a full explanation from him. He was ready for that and was considerably stronger than he had been when they had clashed shortly after Freddie's death. He had learnt a valuable lesson from that; one he would not forget. Purbright would not tolerate conduct likely to dilute the effectiveness and efficiency of the war effort any more than he would. He would play to that and deflect his attention from Grace. He had seen them at the briefing and their behaviour had been exemplary, so there should be no issue in accepting Roland's comments. Margaret Quayle's behaviour had been swayed by her personal and professional jealousy and had tipped into the insubordinate. She stood alone in that, with perhaps the exception of Soper. All the other staff accepted Grace's command in the nursing arena and his own over the hospital as a whole. They would pull back from this and Grace had started that process by commencing her usual routine in the ward. He wondered how she was faring.

Across from his office, Grace took a deep breath as she entered the main ward and drew herself up ramrod straight. Sister Johnson approached her and said,

"Matron, we're ready for your inspection."

"Thank you, Sister, but I need to speak with you."

Grace took her into the side ward where they could speak without interruption.

"I need to advise you that, as a result of comments made as part of Colonel Brett's appraisal into matters with which you are familiar, Margaret Quayle has been demoted to the rank of Staff Nurse with immediate effect."

"Yes, Matron."

"As the senior nurse, you will not be in an easy position, as I know only too well. SN Quayle will need careful management and I would advise you to keep me informed of any causes for concern, which you encounter. You will have my complete support and that of the Colonel."

"Thank you, Matron."

"I have complete confidence in you, Sister Johnson, and shall rely on you to help in the restoration of order and morale within the nursing team."

"I shall do all in my power to assist you, Matron, and on behalf of the staff, I am pleased that clarity regarding SN Quayle has been achieved. The VADs and junior staff, in particular, have been very unsettled by SN Quayle's lobbying against the Colonel and yourself at every opportunity she could, even down to invading their small amount of free time. You have the respect of us all, Matron. We have seen you calm situations, which we have been unable to resolve and deal with the most distressing conditions and symptoms, which afflict the patients. We all rely on your strength and guidance, myself included. I thought you should know, what with all that's gone on recently."

"Thank you, Sister; I am glad that no harm has been done. Now, may I see the patients?"

As she stepped into the main ward, Grace uttered a silent prayer of thanks that she and Roland had survived this crisis and she added a request for strength going forward. The remainder of the ward visit went smoothly and Grace found herself sliding effortlessly into her professional persona. She was aware that some of the nurses were studying her carefully, as if looking for some outward sign of her inner feelings. She was careful to keep those under wraps and to maintain a strictly neutral and even handed approach to the nursing team. As Grace turned to leave, she saw Margaret enter the ward, keeping to the back, out of sight. She motioned to Sister Johnson and said,

"You will need to integrate her quickly, keep her occupied so that she doesn't have time to become an object of curiosity, nor to play to people's sympathy. Monitor the situation, please, and let me know how matters progress."

"Of course, Matron. Should I brief the rest of the team?"

"No, Sister. That would require you to offer explanations where none are needed. This is the Colonel's decision, which I totally support, and she left us no option whatsoever. Good afternoon, Sister."

"Good afternoon, Matron."

With that, Grace continued on her way and left the ward for the sanctuary of her office. She had a good deal of paperwork, which required attention, and set about it with a sense of quiet determination. From time to time, she stopped and her mind floated back to moments of shared freedom and passion. It seemed such a long time ago now, but they were moving forward together and that was all that mattered. Grace wondered what would happen after the war, when they could be together, and finally be arbiters of their own fate. Perhaps they could go to his house in Worcestershire, the place where he had been happiest, with the sole exception of here in the middle of a war, which had claimed his son's life and, perversely, been the catalyst which had brought them together. She did not think that anyone would judge them there; he was part of the fabric of the villagers' lives, well-liked and they both had skills which could serve to make them part of the community. They could even stay here in France; maybe find somewhere to live near Rouen so they could visit Philippe and Annette, or perhaps they could move somewhere where they were completely unknown and folk would take them as they found them. Even if it was not as she imagined it, she did not mind what happened as long as he was at her side. She had dealt with prejudice before and the reality of their love for each other meant it no longer bothered her. Grace drifted between the reality of her work and her dreams of a future with the man she loved beyond reason. So engrossed was she, that she did not realise the clock had marched forward and it was already late afternoon, nor would she have done, were it not for the knock on her office door.