Chapter 13

Christopher threaded his fingers through Caroline's as they slowly walked the wooded edge of the lake. It was rare and wonderful to be together outdoors and in public in a way they could not be in St Leonards and environs… and spring was truly setting in at last.

The whitewashed Somerset cottage belonging to Caroline's cousin was a perfect escape, despite only basic amenities. All they needed was a place to be with each other.

Caroline smiled at his puzzled, studious expression, and stopped. "Penny for them."

As he looked out over the sparkling water he was thinking back to the previous Saturday. An "extra" day for them, as he had not known that Charles Devereaux had suddenly decided to meet with friends that day. Caroline had told Charles and the servants that she would be running errands for the hospital again, and she headed straight for her love.

En route, she wanted desperately to be back in Christopher's arms after her awful Friday night, but she was in such a nervous state as he opened his door to her that she didn't even wish to be touched. He'd been so very pleasantly surprised to see her, and yet she walked past him and began to pace. His smile quickly faded when he saw the agitated look in her weary eyes. It reminded him of that day in the ward—the day she had told him about crying all night when she realised how everyone knew of her husband's unfaithfulness.

"Caroline, what's wrong?"

She just shook her head wordlessly, feeling frustration because she couldn't even find a way to explain this edginess that plagued her.

"Come here."

Caroline threw herself into his arms and hugged him with a strength he didn't know she possessed.

He held her for many minutes there just inside the door, knowing not to kiss her just yet; knowing to wait and let her tell him in her own time what was making her seem ready to jump out of her skin. Caroline sighed as she felt herself begin to relax at last. The queasiness and restlessness flowed away as she felt her lover's hand softly stroking her hair.

Christopher had wanted to tell her that whatever it was, they could work through it, but he wasn't sure that was true. Whatever it was, perhaps they could try to forget it for one day—they had successfully done so before—but each time he thought about the future he felt a stab of hopelessness about their affair.

After an hour or so he had brought her tea, which seemed to fully calm her at long last. His second surprise of the day had been when she had proposed this idea of his accompanying her the following weekend to Cousin Francesca and her husband David's cottage by Blagdon Lake.

Four days. Friday evening, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, and most of Tuesday to live together as if it were their right, and to sleep each night in the same bed.

Now Christopher returned to the present as she squinted at him in the late Friday afternoon sun. He heard a gull give cry as he looked in her eyes with a small, questioning smile.

"I was wondering what had you so nervous last week. Not that you aren't entitled to have nerves now and then," he went on, "or to refuse my advances." He winked at her, but to his dismay she looked perturbed. "Ah… I shouldn't joke about that," he chastised himself, pulling her into his embrace. "You just didn't feel well."

Should I tell him? Would he understand?

Caroline squelched tears and shook her head against his shoulder as if in answer to herself, although it was more of a head-shake of despair. Christopher thought she was merely indicating agreement that she had not been herself.

He traced the smooth outline of her upturned ear. God. He wanted the sweet, delicate-boned creature in his arms to be his always, so that he could protect her, draw joy from her.

Between reporting back to hospital for rehabilitation exercises and rarely visiting with neighbours and friends, he had entirely too much time to think. Perhaps, he had thought more than once, she should be divorced regardless; if he made it back in one piece she could marry him the sooner; if he were killed, well…

Devereaux had shown her boredom and unkindness—even cruelty—and she'd never come to be happy with him; of that Christopher was sure. She was a beautiful, lively woman. She'd survive any societal disapproval and find another man to marry.

Someone with even more of her sense of fun than you, and someone with more to give her than life as the wife of a police constable.

Then Foyle would feel both ridiculous and wryly amused by his jealousy of this hypothetical suitor.

For Caroline's part, she wouldn't hesitate to marry Christopher now if she were free. Even if I were, she thought now, he would insist that I wait rather than risk widowhood, or being tied to a broken man.

So many young men like her Christopher would not come back. Or if they returned they would be changed in such a way as to make them different people. Christopher had tried to talk with her about the possibility of his death, but it was just too much to think about. Speaking about it aloud was something she couldn't bear.

And yet, she knew the possibilities while trying with all her heart not to know them. Her work at the hospital illustrated in vivid colours what might become of her lover—what very likely would become of him when he returned to France.

No, no, no! He will come back to me. I know that he will. Then I'll marry him and have his children, and we'll share everything about a life together—but with happiness. Not this sense of resignation I've had with Charles. We'll be happy just as we are now, away together, just we two.

Now is all I'll think of, the joy of now and nothing else.

When they returned from their exploration of the lake they were oddly tentative; a week had gone by since Caroline's nervous Saturday, and they had not seen each other since.

He closed the curtains and very gently kissed her lips.

She drew back and looked deep into his eyes. "Do you ever think about the children we shall have someday?"

Christopher's blue eyes dimmed with melancholy.

She does dream of a life together…

He tried to smile. "I do."

Caroline nuzzled his ear as she went on, "A boy as strong and as brave as his father… "

His smile twisted. "God willing, he won't have to prove that bravery in war." Lightly touching her downy cheek, he joined in her fantasy. "…A girl as brave and beautiful and sunny as you."

Two young people with no experience in what it was to share true love physically had learned together every aspect of each other, in such a way that their bodies and spirits were enmeshed. If we do create children someday, each thought now, they will grow up with such love—but they'll also be remarkable and caring people by their very birthright.

"I love you," she whispered fiercely, holding him so tightly that he nearly couldn't breathe. He pulled away slightly and gazed at her with widened eyes, nodding wordlessly, but something about the nod was like the slight stutter he would sometimes have when he was startled or overwhelmed. Feeling her tears start at his sweet vulnerability she kissed him, tenderly but with conviction, and the longer the kiss became, the more deep and impassioned.

Caroline felt his hesitance vanish as his arousal intensified and he made a long low sound that thrilled her. The devotion and support they felt for each other were expressed in these intimate moments as much as their desire, and she felt completely safe and confident even when susceptible and open to him. No matter how wild they became together there still was a deeply loving, almost worshipful quality to their coupling. It was heaven for her to bring him pleasure.

Christopher awoke with a sigh. He propped himself up on one elbow and for many minutes just gazed down at the slumbering Caroline in the soft light of the oil lamp, lightly stroking the velvety skin of her face, his mouth tugging at one corner at how deeply she always slept after love. He found even this wondrous and unbearably sweet: this evening he would not have to wake her and remind her that she needed to hurry away. There would be all of tonight and three more nights for him to fall asleep with her in his arms.

Though Monday night I shan't be able to sleep a wink, thinking that it may be the last…

Their simple meals together, reading to each other, games of backgammon and walks and dreams would pass so quickly, he knew.

Don't think about it for now. Just pretend this is how it always will be.

TBC…