Chapter 18:

︻┳═一

Sept 30, 1916:

︻┳═一

Isobel changed into her uniform skirt and a blouse and returned to Eddie's room after having her tea with Mrs. Biggins, exhausted from the long day and scarcely able to put two thoughts together. Dr. Harris was a confounding man—and so she had told him, along with exactly what she thought of doctors performing a procedure on a man's eyes without any sort of sedation. Mother Biggins had been suitably shocked and had ably expressed her low opinion of the competence of the man who was employed to restore Eddie to sanity. Her support greatly eased Isobel's temper.

Harris and Heath could at least have given Eddie an aqueous extract of cannabis. When confronted, Harris had acknowledged that he might have questioned his colleague's opinion. It was fortunate that he showed remorse, or Isobel would have slapped him. And as he would likely become Eddie's boss, that wouldn't have been the sharpest thing to do.

If Eddie's spirit had been done a permanent harm, she swore she'd march down to the beach, help herself to some soldier's Enfield, and pay a call upon Dr. Heath.

Never would Isobel have bet one penny that Harris would wish to offer Eddie a job. Furthermore, she didn't know what to think of putting her husband to work with mentally-damaged men. It might make him strong again but she knew how wearing it was to nurse men who were desperately ill. It might just as easily sap his strength.

Of course, Eddie had a knack for helping such people.

She pushed open his door and stopped short. The room was dark. Eddie was weeping, tucked under the covers of his cot. Jasper was lying on his side, his back to Eddie's front. Emmett was pressed up behind Eddie with an arm thrown over both men. Their comfort didn't seem to be doing any good.

"Mother," Eddie whimpered. "Mother…"

Bloody doctors.

Jasper sat up. "Ah, good, you're back." He got off the cot, staggered over, took Isobel's hat and escorted her to Eddie's side. "He's still addled."

"Does he know where he is?"

Jasper lifted Isobel onto the edge of the bed. He bent down and removed her shoes. She opened her mouth to protest the familiarity, but shut it again. The man meant no disrespect. "He just keeps saying, 'My eye,' like it pains him."

"So he doesnae think he's back… there." She leaned back, put her feet on the bed and pressed her back against Eddie, who automatically embraced her although he didn't stop crying. She hated seeing him in tears but her da had always said, "Better out than in."

"Doesn't seem to be lost in the past," Jasper said. "He yelled for you earlier."

Isobel nodded. "I'm sorry. I was putting a flea in Dr. Harris's ear. These civilian types are such dildos."

Jasper's eyes shone with appreciation.

"Dildo," Eddie echoed.

"Hush, now, Eddie. I'm here. Everything is all right."

He gripped her skirt in his fingers and hid his face against her shoulders. "Dildo. Dildo. He's not in my eye anymore."

"No."

"What will they do with him? I asked Harris but he wouldn't say. It's not right. It's not right."

Isobel's mouth went dry. "What isn't right, love?"

"They can't throw him in the dustbin. I haven't even written his mother." He pressed his hand against his bandage. "It hurts. They should have left him there. I was okay with him there. Now it's not okay. It burns. Maybe they should put him back."

"Rest, Eddie. I'll talk to Dr. Harris in the morning."

"You will?"

"I promise."

"What will they do with him? They can't send back half an inch of man to his mother."

"Hush, love."

"They won't send him home. I was his guardian and now he's going to end up in the dump. It's wrong. Everything about it's wrong!"

"I'll talk to Harris now," Jasper said darkly.

"What are you going to do?" Eddie shook his head. "Dildo was safe with me and now he's lost."

"He won't be lost," Jasper said. "I promise."

"What are you going to do?" Bella asked softly.

"I'm going to get Dildo."

︻┳═一

An hour later, Jasper shuffled back into the room. Eddie was still fretting but his tears had abated.

"Mace, I have something for you," Jasper said. Eddie propped himself up on his elbow. Jasper took his hand and placed a small, brown glass pill bottle in it. But he didn't let go of Eddie's hand. "You have to promise me you won't do anything crazy. You can't put him back in your body."

"I know," Eddie said. "All right. The damage is done. Is this…"

"It's in the bottle." Jasper released his grip on Eddie.

"Dildo? He's in here?" Eddie gave the bottle a gentle shake and it made a faint rattling sound.

"Yes. I thought maybe Bella could bring you one of those pieces of mourning jewelry the old folks always seem to have around."

"A reliquary," Isobel said, her heart lifting. "A little enamelled box we can keep on the mantle."

"No, a ring," Eddie said energetically. "Something that won't tarnish with wear."

"White gold, love?"

"Yes, I'd like that."

"And then," Jasper said, "someday—if you write to his mother—you can see if his folks want him back. And if not, you can keep him."

"Yes." Eddie clutched the bottle. "Yes, and either way, he'll be safe. I'll write to his mother and see if she wants me to send him home. He should be with his family."

"Good call," Jasper said. Eddie sat up and reached for Jasper. They embraced awkwardly for several seconds, overtop of Isobel.

"Thank you," Eddie said.

"You are most welcome. Now, how about some supper?"

"No, my stomach's upset." He lay down again between Isobel and Emmett, the little bottle clutched in his hand. "I just want to sleep."

"Sleep, then," Isobel said.

︻┳═一

October 1, 1916

︻┳═一

Eyes shut, Isobel listened to cheerful birdsong and thanked God for it. Sunlight permeated her eyelids with a warm, amber glow. Eddie was curled up behind her, his fingers splayed out across her busk. She realized she'd spent the night spooning with him and there hadn't been any bad dreams at all. His touch was nothing like that of the Frenchie. Her lips tipped up softly.

A hand touched hers and she opened blurry eyes. Dr. Harris sat back in the visitor's chair, his finger pressed against his smile. He was obviously amused. Isobel felt her cheeks heat.

"Don't get up, ma'am," he breathed.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You must be exhausted."

"Yes."

Harris tipped up his chin. "How is he?"

"He slept through the night. As soon as he had his… souvenir, he settled right down."

"Hale arrived just in the nick of time. Dr. Heath had thrown the bone fragment in my wastebasket and the custodian normally empties it as soon as I leave for tea."

"Eddie wants to set it in a ring."

"If that comforts him, it's as good a solution as any."

"Is it nae morbid?"

"No more morbid than our parents making wreaths out of hair, or propping up dead people to take their photographs."

"So I shouldnae worry?"

"I don't think he'll mourn forever, but … he has much to mourn."

"Yes."

︻┳═一

"May I help you, ma'am?" the leonine shopkeeper asked, beaming.

"Do ye make mourning rings?"

His smile faded and his bright blue eyes turned indigo. "Have you suffered a loss, dear lady?"

"It isnae for me, it's for mae husband."

"Well, I can. They're not exactly in fashion anymore. Everything's diamond and platinum now." (i)

"This is a special case. It is to be the reliquary of a soldier who was blown up in Beaumont-Hamel. All we have is this." Isobel extracted the small bottle from her pocket and set it gently on the desk.

The jeweler peered at the bottle. "Oh, dear."

"Yes, quite."

"Is the deceased family?"

"No. My husband was his commanding officer. He wishes to preserve the," she gestured at the bottle, "remains in a fitting manner, so that he may wear it until we contact thae young man's family and send him safely home."

She tried not to think about what would happen if the Douglasses didn't want their son's remains back.

"What a lovely idea." The jeweler picked up the bottle and squinted at it. "May I?"

"Of course."

He took out a black velvet cloth, unstopped the bottle and tipped the bone fragment out onto it. "War is a dreadful thing."

"Yes." Isobel couldn't stop staring at the shard that had been in Eddie's eye. He must have been in such pain. "Can ye make me something suitable?"

"I could seal the relic in glass but if the lad's parents ever want to change the jewelry, they wouldn't be able to get it out."

"I was thinking of something more like a box or locket. Something where the bone willnae be visible. And mae great aunt had a mourning ring with skull on it. I dinnae want that. Nothing morbid."

"Like an old Gregorian ring. Something with a compartment."

"Yes."

"What can you tell me of your husband?"

"He's a survivor of Beaumont-Hamel. He has much grief to bear."

"Oh, God bless. I was, however, thinking more about his taste in jewelry."

"He doesnae wear any."

"Would he prefer something simple, do you think?"

"Yes."

"Let me show you some of the estate pieces I have, and you can tell me if you'd care for something similar." He reached into a couple of cases and placed the rings on the velvet. Isobel picked up a gold ring enamelled with a blue and yellow crest.

"Trafalgar."

"It's a lovely piece, isn't it?"

"Indeed."

"The man who sold it to me said it belonged to his father."

"He didnae keep it?"

"The young do not understand."

Isobel returned the ring to the velvet. "I would sooner say that civilians dinnae understand."

"I apologize, madam. The young…"

"Know what war means. At least, they do now." She touched the ring. "I like the embossed lettering."

"I am rather partial to this lettering." The jeweler held out a plain band, gold around the edges and black in the middle, with raised gold letters encircling the band.

"Oh, that is lovely." Isobel felt the bumpy letters. Eddie would be able to feel the words. "I like that, but there's nowhere to put D-Douglass's remains."

"I thought, perhaps, something like this. It's the only casket ring I have to show you but it's Gregorian and very old-fashioned."

Isobel took the ring. It had a hinged compartment on top that would be large enough to hold the shard of bone. The face of the ring was black and embedded with seed pearls in the shape of a cross. The gleaming gold bevels of the face displayed a date.

"If this were not quite so feminine, it would suit perfectly."

"What are your thoughts?"

"I like the cross and I like the design, but it's very ornate."

"So, plainer and more masculine."

"We were thinking of something that could be worn by a man or a woman. And my husband asked for white gold."

"Very nice. I can make the ring of white gold and keep the black enamel face. I could do the cross in smoked crystal instead of pearls." (ii)

"Yes. And the date should be July 1st, 1916."

"With a name or initials?"

"Can ye put 'Jeremy Douglass, Blue Puttees, Beamont-Hamel'? With two Esses in Douglass?"

"I shall see what I can do." The jeweler scratched down notes on his pad.

"Oh, and since my husband is in thae hospital, we cut a bit of twine to measure his finger."

"Good. That will help me to judge how much lettering will fit."

"Excellent." Isobel reached out and touched the other, plain black and gold band again. "I should like to have a man and woman's set like this, too."

"Ma'am?"

"Please make a pair just like this, that says, 'July 1st, 1916, Beaumont-Hamel, in Mem of The Blue Puttees'."

︻┳═一

October 7, 1916

︻┳═一

Isobel escorted Eddie downstairs to Dr. Harris's office, trying not to chew a hole right through her own lip. If the appointment went poorly, she would need to soften the blow. She knocked and the door swung open immediately.

"Ah, Mrs. and Lieutenant Masen." Dr. Harris welcomed them inside, where a balding man in a white coat stood smiling. "Please come in. This is Dr. Heath, Mrs. Masen."

"You are the Army Nurse!" he exclaimed. "How wonderful."

Isobel regarded him coldly. "You are the gentleman who operated upon my husband without employing sedation."

He nodded at her, his friendly smile undiminished. "I did not expect the shard to be so large. My apologies. I promise to employ your husband's history as a caution from now on."

"It is fortunate that Eddie has experienced no lasting harm."

"Isobel," Eddie muttered.

"He shouldnae haff done it," she muttered back.

"Indeed. I am most relieved to find your spirits restored, Lieutenant." Heath reached for Eddie's hand. "Welcome, do come in. It's lovely to see you again. How are you faring?"

"I'm all right."

"Good! It's time to have a look under the bandages."

"Yes, sir." Eddie took his usual seat and Isobel noticed as he brushed his hand over the pocket containing the small brown bottle he carried everywhere. He didn't know that Dildo was no longer inside it. "You're not going to shine the light in my eyes today, are you?"

"Not if you don't feel up to it. But I do need to see how your eye is healing."

"All right."

Dr. Heath unwound Eddie's bandage and carefully removed the gauze covering his eye. "Take your time to adjust to the light. There's no rush."

Eddie slowly opened his eyes and shut them again. He blinked for several seconds until he was able to keep both eyes open. In the bright light entering the window, all his scars, both tiny and substantial, were made visible, including small dents and scratches in his eyes.

"How does it feel?" Dr. Heath asked cheerfully.

"Better. When I blink it doesn't pain me."

"Good. When you're ready, will you kindly look up at me?"

Eddie tipped up his chin but was not able to direct his gaze upward for nearly a minute. Isobel gasped. For the first time since she'd found him in Number Six Hospital, his eyes weren't puffy. And the inside of his lower left eyelid was no longer an angry red, but rather, a healthy pink.

"Oh, yes, that is better. May I touch your lower lids?"

"Yes."

"Nurse Masen, I should like you to observe. Stand behind me, please."

"All right."

Dr. Heath gently placed his thumbs below Eddie's eyes. "Keep your head still. When you are able, turn your eyes to the left. No, not your head, just your eyes." Eddie winced but did as he was told. "Excellent. To the right." That was obviously harder for him. It took him a few seconds to do it and his eyes glistened with moisture. "Good. Down." Eddie could do that easily. He often looked down when he was relaxed. "Now, up." That was obviously the most difficult instruction. Tears swam. And then, a black dot appeared on the inside of his bottom lid.

"Ah, now, see? There are still bits working their way out."

"Is it more of… Douglass?" Eddie asked.

"No, this merely appears to be grit. Now, every day, I want you to do the exercises I just went through with you. Have Mrs. Masen or a friend supervise. And afterward, I want you to take some lukewarm, boiled water and pour it from a jug into your eyes. It might wash out some of the debris."

"Okay."

"We're going to do that now. At home, Mrs. Masen can pour the water for you. Here, come to the basin on the table."

"All right." Eddie stood and placed his hands on the table. He bent over the wash basin as though to wash his face.

"Mrs. Masen, will you stand ready with the towel?"

"Yes, doctor."

Dr. Heath coaxed Eddie's head right down to the bowl. "Now, Lieutenant, when you tip your head to the side, I'm going to pour the water. Try to blink a few times. Do your best to get the water in your eye. I want you to use a whole jug for each eye, once a day for the next week."

"Okay."

When the doctor began to pour the water, Eddie grunted, but he managed to follow the doctor's orders. Isobel was appalled to see how discoloured the water became. She didn't wish to ask Dr. Heath about it in front of Eddie.

"Good job. Other one, now."

Eddie shuddered and turned his face the other way. Again, the doctor poured the water. A speck of something glinted against the bottom of the china basin. As Eddie allowed the last of the water to trickle into the basin, a drop of blood followed the speck.

"All right, dear fellow." Dr. Heath took the towel from Isobel and held it under Eddie's face. Eddie took it, blotted his eyes and neck and rubbed his hair, leaving it stuck up all over. He used the towel to brush it flat. Dr. Heath steered him back to the chair. "Let's have a look, now."

He placed his thumbs on Eddie's lower lids again. "Good, they're clear for the moment. How do they feel?"

"A bit better." When Dr. Heath released Eddie's face, Eddie pressed the towel to his eyes.

"Washed quite a large metal fragment out of your left. I'm not promising this will help you to see any better, but it will help to clear out anything foreign that's floating around in your knob." (iii)

"Yeah," came from behind the towel.

Dr. Heath touched Isobel's arm lightly. "Ensure you follow this procedure like clockwork every day at home, until I tell you to stop."

"I will," she said.

"I can answer for myself, doctor," Eddie groused. "And I will follow your orders."

Dr. Heath continued to address Isobel. "I want you to bring him to my office in a week. I have better facilities there to test his eyes."

"You needn't conscript my wife to babysit me," Eddie said loudly.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but we all know who runs the show at home. Just ask my wife."

Eddie emerged from the towel. "You're not going to operate on my eyes again, are you?"

"I wish I could. I haven't the skill. The fragments in your eyes are embedded too deeply to remove without causing further injury. And the existing damage from their movement is not repairable."

"So, I'm blind forever." He said it as though it didn't matter. Isobel's eyes stung but she would not embarrass him with tears.

Dr. Heath patted his arm. "We may improve your vision yet."

"How?"

"I have my ways. Will you come and see me next week?"

"Of course."

"Good. Nurse Masen, here is my card with the address. The appointment time is written on the back."

"Thank you."

"Not at all." He stepped closer to her. "I made a mistake because he didn't hesitate to accept my suggestion. Such a brave lad. Do you forgive me?"

"This time."

Dr. Heath tipped Isobel a jaunty salute. Isobel arched a brow and gave him one back that was regulation military. Dr. Heath appeared delighted. "Goodbye, Edward."

"Bye, doctor."

With another grin at Isobel, he departed. She returned to her husband's side.

"Now that that's out of the way," Dr. Harris said, "we have some papers to sign."

"Oh," Eddie said. "I guess it's as good a time as any."

Dr. Harris gestured at his desk. "Mrs. Masen, these are Eddie's discharge papers." He held out his chair and invited her to sit. "Will you read them to him, please?"

Isobel looked at both sets of official documents. "There's one pile from Newfoundland and one from Canada."

Harris's eyes twinkled. "Yes. We didn't want anybody trying to get him back."

Isobel cleared her throat. "The one from Canada is an aye pretty certificate. It has a picture of an Old Sweat standing before Britannia and it says, 'First Lieutenant Anthony Edward Masen of Canada's First Division is, by virtue of injuries sustained in the Great War, honourably discharged from the Canadian Forces on October 14th, 1915'." Her mouth dropped open. "It's signed by King Edward."

"Really?" Eddie asked softly.

"Yes, and there's a poppy." She handed him the red and green embroidered badge and he held it to his heart. (iv)

"Je me souviens."

"The paper with it is the official discharge report that details your service. 'To Whom It May Concern: Private Anthony Edward Masen, weight 135 pounds, height 5'10", chest 33", eyes green, hair red, enlisted in Toronto in the Canadian Infantry in April of 1914 under Captain Emmett McCarty and served with distinction at St. Julien in April of 1915, where he took four German prisoners despite suffering from burns contracted from mustard gas, requiring two weeks' stay in Base Hospital Three. He subsequently served at the Ypres Salient from May of 1915 to October of 1915, requiring a brief stay in Base Hospital Five due to a skin infection, at which time he was promoted to Ensign for executing a traitor and transferred to the Newfoundland Army, First Division. The Canadian Army thanks you for valiant service and recommends you for the Canadian Service Medal."

"The third paper wants your signature," Harris crossed his arms. "It's your statement that you accept the terms of your discharge, which include a lifetime pension of eight shillings a week, a retirement dispensation of five pounds for your two years of service, and a twenty-five pound gratuity for permanent disability."

"That's what it says, love," Isobel confirmed. Eddie pressed his lips together, rose, and gestured at the paper.

"Where do I sign?"

"Here."

Eddie felt the place Isobel was marking with her fingers. He took the fountain pen and nearly dropped it, feeling awkward without the end of his thumb. He did his best to sign the paper with a flourish. "Does it resemble my signature?"

"It's lovely," Isobel said. "Shall I read ye the papers from Newfoundland, now?"

"Please."

"Ensign Anthony Edward Masen, weight 140 pounds, height 6'0", chest 35", eyes green, hair red, transferred from the Canadian Army, First Division to the Newfoundland First Battalion, also known as the Blue Puttees, on October 14th of 1915. He married Isobel Maire Swan of London, UK on that date. He served for three months in Cairo, Egypt where he trained sappers in geology, construction and hand-to-hand combat and was promoted to Second Lieutenant before leading a troop of twenty men on campaigns in the Dardanelles in January of 1916. He spent February in hospital after being burned and shot by a stick bomb. His conduct was at all times superior. He distinguished himself at Gallipoli, where his troop took twenty Turks prisoner, and was promoted to First Lieutenant in March of 1916. He led sixty men valiantly in the Somme until July 1st, 1916, where he was severely injured at the Battle of Beaumont-Hamel and is no longer fit to serve. He is to be awarded all suitable medals and honours. Lieutenant Masen, The Dominion of Newfoundland thanks you for your heroic service and wishes you God's blessings.' It's signed by Prime Minister Edward Morris. And look, there's this." She held out a decorative, embroidered badge to Eddie and he took it and held it up to his better eye.

"Ah, I was so jealous of the fellows who had one of these," he said with a grin. "The Caribou Emblem of the Newfoundlanders. (v) My boys said the ambulance crews sold these in St. John's in our honour back before I joined up. Will you sew it to my cap, Bella?"

"Of course, love." She took it back from him and placed it on the desk where she could admire it.

"Is there something from them for me to sign?"

"Yes," Harris said. "You must sign to accept the terms of your discharge, which include a pension of eight shillings a week for life, which shall continue to be dispensed to Mrs. Masen should she survive you, a retirement dispensation of two-and-a-half pounds for your year of service, and a fifty pound gratuity for permanent disability."

Eddie looked stunned. "But… that means I'll be making more money now than I did in the army."

"I told you they're revering survivors as heroes."

Eddie gestured with the doctor's pen and Isobel showed him where to sign. "I'm not a hero but I'm not about to turn the money down."

"There's something else I hope you'll consider," Harris said.

"What's that?"

"A job. Here. Working with me, with the men like McCarty and Hale."

"A job," Eddie echoed. "You want me to work here, with you?"

"I do."

"I have no training!"

"You can learn. Although, your lack of preconceived notions of what will help the men works in your favour. I don't wish you to lose your instincts once you read the textbooks."

Eddie blinked and huffed a laugh. "I think there's little hope of that happening." He tipped his head to the side. "How am I supposed to read?"

"Mrs. Masen can read to you. And should you decide to take classes, she can audit the class as your assistant and take notes."

Eddie placed his hands on his hips. "You think I can do this?"

"Don't you?"

"Well!" Eddie held out his hand. "You have yourself a blind, opinionated, uneducated assistant."

"Splendid. You'll work from oh-six-hundred to eighteen hundred daily, and eat dinner in the canteen with the men. Sundays off. Saturdays are payday. You'll get a pound a week."

"Good lord!" It was a lot more money than he'd been making as a lieutenant.

"Oh, fine. A pound and six shillings." Isobel's heart flipped. She prayed Eddie would say yes. He looked horrified and knowing Eddie, it was because he'd just accidentally begged himself a ludicrously large increase.

"And Nurse Masen," Harris continued, "if you will come to read to the men on Saturday afternoons, I will give you six shillings a week."

"Why me?" she gasped. Six shillings a week to do a little pleasant reading? It was a princely sum.

"The men are not intimidated by you because you're a woman, but they don't intimidate you, either. You're accustomed to the soldiers' cant. Their rough language and salacious humour don't seem to offend you."

"No," she agreed ruefully. "I probably know more rough language than mae husband."

Harris and Eddie laughed.

︻┳═一

He was getting out. One more night in the hospital and then, he'd go home with Bella.

Somehow, he had to tell Jazz and Cap.

Eddie had so many thoughts in his head he couldn't string them together. He held Bella's arm as they wandered in silence down the garden path. The events of the day were so overwhelming that he didn't know how to talk. He was dearly afraid that he might cry in front of Bella again. How could she respect him as a man if he behaved like a baby?

Somehow, they ended up holding hands on the bench that had become their special place.

"What are ye thinking, love?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. It's all so strange."

"Why?"

"You'll… think I'm mad."

"I doubt it."

He gnawed on his lip and carefully considered what he wanted to say. "I'm not sorry I'm blind."

Bella squeezed his hand. "I know."

"There are things I will regret, like having a clear look at you… at children… but I'm free of the fighting now. And I won't be an invalid. I can support us. I can help people and…" A lump swelled in his throat. "Am I wrong? Am I a coward?"

"Of course not. War is madness."

"I'm tired of being a destroyer. I want to rebuild."

Bella set her chin on his shoulder and hugged his arm. "Ah, Eddie. I love ye sae much."

Only he would consider ruining the mood. "I would like you to consider resigning from the hospital."

Bella hummed a laugh. "I gave mae notice two weeks ago. Yesterday was mae last day."

He gawped at her. "Were you planning to tell me?"

"Eventually."

"When?"

"When Dr. Harris followed through on his intention to offer you a job."

"You knew!"

"Aye."

They both started to chuckle. After a few minutes, Eddie put his arm around her and kissed her on the forehead. "You're such a minx." He kissed a path down her neck and trailed his tongue over her skin.

"Don't start!" she said but tipped her head back in invitation anyway. "Ye'll be home tomorrow and I willnae let ye set a foot out of bed all day."

"Even to use the WC?"

"It'll be too hard to do naked. I'll snag ye a urinal on the way out."

Eddie snorted and tickled his wife. Somehow, he managed to wrestle her onto his lap. Of course, she wasn't really objecting to his attention. He kissed her with longing and without breaking away, she scrambled up, lifted her skirt and straddled him. They managed between them to free his buttons and he groaned into her mouth as their bodies met. Every bit of him felt deliciously alive. It had been so long since they'd lain together and the thought of having her unclothed, with no threat of interruption and the ability to touch one another without encumbrance consumed him. He quickened his pace and thumbed her sensitive spot frantically.

Isobel broke their kiss and panted in his ear. "I want a bairn!"

"God, yes!" Throwing back his head he released into her and she strangled a cry and followed him, all aquiver. Her body spasmed around him, almost choking him with ecstasy. He willed his payload to strike its target. Bella mewled and shuddered in fits and starts, her movements gradually changing from erratic to languid.

She sagged against him. "I maun lie down." She stood awkwardly and tottered a bit. Eddie tucked himself away with one hand while steadying her with the other.

"Did I wear you out?"

Bella lay down on the bench and placed her head in his lap. "No. Mother Biggins advised me that it helps conception." She stuck up her knees, resting her feet on the bench, and he smoothed down her skirts.

"I just realized you don't have your hat." He caressed her hair lightly.

"I dinnae give a whit."

"Neither do I. That was…"

"I…" her eyelids fluttered.

"What is it, darling?"

"Thank ye for my seizure."

"Seizure?" he asked blankly.

"Ye know. Ye just… gave me a seizure."

He screwed his eyes shut and tried not to laugh.

"Eddie!"

"You read medical books. All the time."

"Nobody will lend me any about lovemaking, only reproduction."

"Oh, for Pete's sake. I will buy some."

"Really?"

Bella really was adorable. "It's called an orgasm." Eddie swooped her up in his arms and purred in her ear. "The Poilu call it le petit mort."

She blinked at him innocently. "What do thae British call it?"

He frowned and shook his head. "I'm not sure they call it anything. I'm not even sure they do it."

"And the Canadians?"

"Coming."

"That sounds verra sordid."

He bit back a smile. "What would you call it, darling?"

"More-ish."

Eddie's forehead crinkled up. "Moorish?"

"Yes, I want a lot more. More-ish."

He did laugh then, and bent to ravish her mouth. "Tomorrow, my little woman, you can have as many little deaths as you want."

"Whoa!" a man exclaimed as he came around the hedge. "Sorry, Mace!"

Eddie felt like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Oops."

Jasper started to chuckle.

"Hell," Bella breathed, sending Eddie into fits of laughter again. She rolled onto her side, sat up carefully and attempted to straighten her hair. "Hello, Jasper."

"Mrs. Masen."

"Ye may as well call me Bella as ye know me more intimately than mae own family."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Jazz, you sure have a knack for turning up at certain times," Eddie scolded.

Jasper hobbled closer. "Mace?" He cleared his throat and leaned down. "You have a little, uh, you know, stuff on your…"

Eddie pulled Bella's skirt over his legs. "Thank you!" he said loudly.

"Sorry to interrupt. Cap and I just wanted to know what the doctors said."

"Yeah, Bella and I will catch up with you at tea, all right?"

He wasn't looking forward to the conversation.

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i At the beginning of the Edwardian Era (technically 1890-1915), new methods were discovered to cut and style platinum and diamonds. This led to a craze for those two materials. Women wore a lot of white, and diamonds and platinum were showcased on the plain colour palette. As well, filigree became popular as platinum was strong enough to support delicate work. Most platinum was still backed with 10 Karat gold before 1910, helping to date that jewelry. These pieces are so strong that they have endured generations of wear and are quite valuable today.

ii Edwardian jewelry became less gaudy and more monochromatic. They particularly liked white gold or platinum with white, clear, black or grey stones.

iii My grandmother used to say, "Watch your knob." We wicked grandchildren all tried to get her to say it as often as possible. She actually had a sign on the basement staircase's low ceiling that said watch yer knob. There are pictures of it somewhere. Back in those days, a knob was a head, not a dick.

iv When land in France was stripped to mud, it was noticed that after a battlefield was abandoned, poppies were the first thing to grow back. A hundred years later, if you go to see the trenches, you'll find the occasional clump of poppies springing up. The poppy was eventually adopted universally as a symbol of renewal, with thanks for the sacrifice of those who fell. By 1917, it was officially paired with the motto, "Je me souviens." I remember.

v The Newfoundland Highlanders Cadet Corps (1907) used a caribou as their emblem. On October 2, 1915, members of the St. John Ambulance sold caribou badges in St. John's in order to have every person "wearing the emblem of the 1st Newfoundland Regiment in honour of our boys who have had their first baptism of fire in the Dardanelles." Some of the battlefields where the Newfoundland Regiment fought became the "Trail of the Caribou." In the 1920s, five monuments were erected along the Trail of Caribou in Europe: Beaumont-Hamel, Gueudecourt, Monchy-le-Preux, and Masnières in France, as well as Courtrai in Belgium. The caribou stands facing the enemy line with its head thrown back in defiance. A replica of the monument also stands in Bowring Park in St. John's.

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A/N: You're getting this instalment a bit early but don't get too excited because next week's may be late. I'll be away and I may not get it posted by Wednesday, but don't worry, I'll catch up as soon as I can.

I am running a one hour author event on Facebook Wednesday, June 29th at 9PM EST. You have to join the RRR Blog group to attend. Just think of it as an online party for books. You'll get to read excerpts from new books, meet my author friends Sherri Hayes, Lissa Bryan and Sydney Logan, and there will be prizes. Lissa will be making a big announcement so you'll want to be there if possible. Plus, I'm a bit nervous and need you to hold my hand.

On July 5th, I'll be a participating author at Lindsey Gray's Fireworks event. I have to hold down the fort all by myself for a whole half hour. Gulp. I'll be fine. No, it'll be fun. Come hang out and have fun. Prizes, games and books. My kind of party. Hope I'll see you there.