No Regrets: A Novel of Love and Lies in World War II England (The Thornton Trilogy Book 1) (14 page)

He wouldn’t have argued that the entire conundrum was irrational. Every bit of his indecision and pain was due to a chance encounter with someone he hadn’t been certain he’d ever see again. But her memory was so fresh in his mind. After having met her, there was no possibility of his marrying Anne, or anyone else. Yet, Lord Rowan and Lady Celia adored her. Her parents were close friends with his family. Lord and Lady Thornton thought of her as a daughter. Anne was of the aristocracy. From what little he knew about Elise, she was descended from Russians. Lord only knew what her lineage was. Both sets of parents would probably consider her a foreigner of dubious stature. Lord and Lady Thornton wouldn’t be pleased at the prospect of their son bringing Elise to
Highcroft Hall
as a future countess. But the fact remained that he didn’t love Anne. As much as it would pain everybody, they would have to face reality.

It seemed like another lifetime when he’d asked Anne to marry him. He wasn’t the same young, naïve boy who’d left on that bright September morning, in 1939. From Dunkirk to D-Day and countless battles in between, he’d evolved into a mature man, whose outlook on life had altered dramatically. There’d been several close brushes with death. Such frightening moments had caused Sloan to ponder life’s most profound and mysterious questions. Why was he here? What did it all mean? What was love? The only question he felt equipped to answer was the one concerning love. As soon as practical, he intended to see Elise. Although he scarcely knew her, she was the sun and the moon to him, and he wholeheartedly believed that once they had time to be together, she’d realize they were meant for one another.

Sloan hadn’t told his parents when he’d be arriving, since he hadn’t been certain himself. Trains were notoriously difficult to predict in the post-war frenzy. Thousands of soldiers were returning to their homes, and extra carriages had been added to accommodate them. His train wasn’t even listed on the regular departures and arrivals board. When he reached Thornton-on-Sea
,
he left his gear at the depot, to be looked after by the stationmaster, and walked the three miles to his home. There’d been a brief, heavy shower, but when it ended it was a beautiful summer day. Tall trees shaded his way with thick foliage, and the fields were green, dotted with white sheep and spotted cattle. Flowers bloomed in the front yards of small cottages and spilled from flower boxes. While he’d seen the scars of war, when his train travelled through London, the peaceful countryside appeared untouched and as pristine as it had always been. Thornton-on-Sea sat high above the ocean, and he could see the blue of the water on that bright, sunny afternoon. It was just as he’d remembered. The breeze rustled his light brown hair, and it was heaven to smell the fresh salt air.

Finally he could see the roof of
Highcroft Hall,
rising stately and grand in the distance. There’d been many times during the war when he’d wondered if he’d ever see his home again. Beautiful, elegant
Highcroft
, where his ancestors had dwelled since the 1600s. It was one of the country’s finest examples of a seventeenth century, Jacobean country house, with an impressive great hall, magnificent reception rooms, libraries and a Gothic-style chapel. Capability Brown had designed the formal gardens, which were spectacular. It was as unchanged as the ancient Lime trees at the entrance. He quickened his pace, soon finding himself standing at the imposing entrance, where wisteria and Ivy climbed the red brick façade, and roses meandered to the second level.

While Sloan made his way toward the house, his parents were sitting in the drawing room, wondering when their son would appear. They’d had a wire from him when he was mustered out, but no news since. Lord Rowan paced the room, jingling money in his pocket.

“Why should it be taking so long?” he complained to his wife, Lady Celia. “It’s been nearly a week since we received the wire. You don’t suppose something has happened to him, do you?”

Lady Celia was sitting on the striped, satin-upholstered sofa, calmly knitting.

“Rowan, you should know enough about the military to understand that one has to be patient when dealing with them. You used to tell me that everything connected with service to one’s country involves waiting. He’ll be along just as soon as he can be,” she responded. “We must remember to ring Anne the moment he arrives. You don’t suppose he’d stop to see her first? After all, she is his intended bride.”

“I rather think not. Of course he’ll be anxious to see her, but knowing Sloan, he’ll be wanting to set foot in
Highcroft Hall
before anything else. He’ll probably ring Anne, and ask her to pop over. After all, it’s really no distance at all.”

There was silence between the two, and the only sound was Lady Celia’s knitting needles, clicking and clacking as they finished another row of stitches.

“Won’t it be lovely to have him home? And a hero, too. They don’t give the Victoria Cross to everyone. The Mayor told me they’ve planned a celebration in his honour. As soon as they know he’s arrived, preparations will get underway,” Lord Rowan stated proudly.

“I know, Rowan. It’s all too magnificent. I’ve made certain his room is ready. There are fresh flowers, and everything is just as he left it.”

“Yes, I expect... Wait, Celia. I believe I heard footsteps on the gravel.”

Just as he spoke, the front door opened, and Sloan was there, standing in the flagstone great hall. Both parents rushed to greet him.

“Sloan,” they cried out simultaneously.

Their handsome son stood alone in the wide, expansive entry. He was taller and a bit thinner. On the other hand, he was no longer a boy. His arms and chest had filled out, and he wore his uniform with great dignity. His dark, blue eyes were as intense as they’d always been, and he hadn’t lost his winning smile. There were small lines etched beside his mouth and next to his penetrating eyes, from years of flying aeroplanes into sunrises and sunsets. His father shook his hand, and his mother stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. Strangely, there was a feeling of unease – as if the two older people weren’t familiar with the younger man. His mother began to fuss nervously.

“Sloan, your room is just as you left it. I thought you would like that. Of course, if you’d prefer, you may have your choice of rooms. I – that is – we thought you would want to sleep in your boyhood chamber. But if that isn’t acceptable...”

“Mother, do calm down. Of course it’s acceptable. I’ve thought of that room for the entire duration. In fact, let me go up there now and change into something more comfortable. I wouldn’t care if I never put this uniform on again.”

“Oh, but Son. Anne will want to see how splendid you look in your uniform, with your coveted medals and your silver wings. Do wait until she’s had that chance.”

“Anne? But I had no plans to see her this evening. I thought we could enjoy a quiet time together on my first night home.”

“Of course we can do that, if it’s what you want,” said Lady Celia. “Your father and I just thought you would want to see your lovely bride-to-be as soon as possible.”

“Yes – well – of course I‘m anxious to see her, but I have things I want to speak to you about. Don’t you suppose we might keep my homecoming a secret until tomorrow?”

Lord Rowan was a bit perplexed, but it was pleasing to think that Sloan wanted to be alone with his parents after their long separation.

“We shall do whatever you wish, Son. I don’t see any harm in a tiny, white lie. I don’t think it’s necessary to say that you didn’t come in tonight – perhaps that you arrived later than expected.”

“Yes, that will do,” Sloan smiled. “So, let me put on other clothing and wash up. I’ll be back in a tick.”

He took the staircase two steps at a time, and his parents stood at the bottom, with worshipping looks on their faces. Lady Celia turned to Lord Rowan.

“Thank goodness I never moved his clothing. Do you think any of it will still fit?”

“I strongly doubt it. But let him prowl through his cupboard and see. He’ll be needing to outfit himself with a new wardrobe. I should think a trip to London will be in order.”

Lady Celia put her arms around her husband. “Oh Rowan. It’s so good to have him home. After so many fretful years. He looks very dashing, don’t you think?”

“Yes. Quite. A bit thin perhaps, but a few of Ruth’s excellent meals and he’ll be right as rain.”

Lady Celia rang the bell for Mrs. Littleton, knowing of her keen desire to see Sloan - to welcome him home from the war. She came quickly, straightening her apron and patting her hastily pinned-up, white hair.

“Has he come home?” she enquired, nearly breathless with anticipation.

“Yes. He’s gone to his room to freshen up. He’ll be anxious to see you. Could you bring a tea tray? By the time you return, he’ll be back down,” Lady Celia requested.

Mrs. Littleton smiled broadly and scurried off to prepare a tray. He’d always held a special place in her heart. She’d tended to him almost as much as his Nanny had. Grace had watched him grow from a tot with dark-blonde, tousled hair to a strikingly handsome young man. She’d seen him off to Eton, Oxford and the RAF. Now, he was home for good. Back to Thornton-on-Sea, where he would marry the enchanting Anne Whitfield and take his place in the long line of nobility who’d overseen the magnificent estate she’d grown to love as if it were her own.

Mrs. Littleton spread the news to other members of the staff. By the time Sloan descended the staircase, they were lined up, waiting to shake his hand and warmly welcome him home. Sloan was delighted to see all of them. He gave cuddles to Grace and Ruth and shook the hands with the gentlemen on the staff. He also made certain to acknowledge those who were new to
Highcroft Hall,
since his departure in 1939. Giselle Dupris was one of those. He’d been on the alert for her name, since he knew she lived with Elise. When he reached her, he paused.

“If I’m correct, you’re my mother’s new lady’s maid? Anne Whitfield wrote to say that you’d become friends.”

“Yes, Milord. Anne, Elise, and I are friends. Elise is the lady I share a cottage with.”

“I’m aware of that. I believe I’ve met her before.”

“Yes, Milord. I believe you have,” she smiled.

“I would imagine I’ll see you again,” he answered.

Sloan moved on, speaking a word to everyone. Giselle couldn’t wait to tell Elise that he was home and that he was very handsome.

The tea was brought into the drawing room. Sloan sat in a winged back chair by the sofa, while Mrs. Littleton poured him a generous cup. He still wore his uniform, having discovered he’d outgrown all of his clothing. Someone pulled the large bell at the entrance to
Highcroft Hall.
Then, Anne’s voice could be heard.

“Has Major Thornton arrived?” Sloan heard her enquire of Richmond.

“Ah - there she is Sloan,” said Lord Rowan. “I’m not surprised she came. She’s been checking with us daily. Sorry our private evening will have to be relinquished. Rush out to her, Son.”

But Sloan only rose to his feet. His face turned quite ashen. He couldn’t help the fact that he wore a grave expression. Anne quickly entered the room.

“I popped round to see if you’d arrived,” she said, somewhat nervously. Then, looking him up and down with her eyes, she said, “Well, Sloan.” She stopped talking and smiled. A blush highlighted her lovely cheek bones, and her long, dark lashes glistened with happiness. He thought for a moment that she was going to burst into tears. There was no question Anne was gorgeous, but his heart didn’t speed up like it had when he’d met Elise. Anne was still the beautiful, high-spirited girl he’d known as a youngster. Her vivaciousness and animation had always amused him.

“Aren’t you going to kiss her, Sloan?” asked his father. “You needn’t be shy in front of your mother and me.”

Sloan stepped forward. He took her hands in his, kissing the cheek she offered. He couldn’t force himself to act against his feelings, and knew Anne understood why. He’d essentially told her that it had all been a giant mistake. Now, he dreaded a face-to-face conversation more than he’d loathed flying into a formation of Luftwaffe planes. Why couldn’t he love her? Most of his mates in the RAF would think him daft. But they’d never met Elise. He felt treacherous. Now the war was over, he was home, and they were face-to-face. He tried to be considerate of her feelings and said that he’d see her the next evening. They’d dine at a restaurant by the sea, where they could chat at length. She nodded in agreement, understanding his desire to spend time with his parents. She stayed for a bit and drank a cup of tea. Then, she left, saying she looked forward to the next evening.

***

The moment Sloan dreaded finally arrived. He looked across the table at Anne. Knowing he’d broken her heart, he wished he could have avoided doing so. They were seated at an outdoor restaurant, next to a seawall, and waves could be heard crashing against the stones. Occasionally, a fine spray of mist drifted through the air. He’d ordered a bottle of wine. After it was poured, he began to speak.

“Anne, it’s good to be able to talk to one another. From the moment I arrived, I’ve wanted to be alone with you. There are so many things we need to discuss.”

“You’ve already made it clear that you’ve changed your feelings,” she exclaimed. “I don’t think there’s much to discuss. I know you think you’re in love with Elise - that she’s your soulmate. I wrote to you a hundred times saying that I understood.”

Sloan was somewhat startled. “I know that, Anne. You’ve been unbelievable. But since I’m back home, we finally have the chance to talk this through. I don’t think that my feelings changed so much. It’s more that I came to a realization about them. I nearly died several times while fighting. When one comes so close to death, it causes a re-evaluation of everything. I realized what a simple, pre-ordained existence I’ve led. Everything was mapped out for me. I’m not sure I want that anymore.”

“Sloan, there isn’t a lot you can do about altering plans for your future. You’re the heir to
Highcroft Hall.
You’ll have to assume that responsibility someday. Until then, you’ll have to train for the many duties you’ll undertake.”

“Yes. That much is true. But hopefully it will be many years in the future. Anne, I never wanted to hurt you. You were incredibly faithful and loyal to me. I hate what I did to you. But it’s so important to me that you understand why it was what I had to do.”

“Sloan. If you’re trying to tell me that you broke our engagement because you began to re-evaluate your life after many dangerous missions, that’s rubbish. You met Elise before there’d been so many risky times. It was solely because of Elise.” Tears began to flow down Anne’s lovely face. “The only thing I’ve never understood is how you could change your feelings so quickly, when you scarcely even knew Elise. Is there something I could change about myself to make you want to marry me, like you did before you left for the war?”

“No, Anne. What would I ask you to change? You’re a beautiful, intelligent lady. You have everything a man could ask for. You’re like my sister. I’ve had the opportunity to chat with so many of my fellow RAF chums. I’ve heard their feelings for the girls they left behind. I now know that the word love shouldn’t be used lightly. It’s a terribly serious subject. There’s such a thing as passion, which you and I have never shared. The truth is, as much as it may hurt, I don’t believe I ever really wanted to marry you.

“Then, why did you propose? I don’t understand.”

“That’s what I meant when I said everything had been mapped out for me. You and I were childhood friends. It was expected of me. But, I never felt the spark that should have been there.”

But Sloan, that’s because we’ve always known one another. We grew up together. It would have been unusual to feel the passion you’re speaking of, when we’d seen each other during every phase of our lives. There was no mystery. But there was a deeper feeling. Like that of a husband and wife, who’ve spent many years together and cannot imagine a future without the other.”

“But don’t you see that what you’re describing is the kind of love one feels for a sibling, more than for a spouse? It’s important to have the magic. The spark. I can’t describe it. I only know it’s not there between us.”

“Sloan, don’t you think I know what love is?” She was openly weeping now. “Maybe you don’t feel passion for me, but I know I feel it for you. I don’t see you as the small boy I played with as a child. I see you as a handsome man, and for nearly six years I’ve longed to feel your arms round me. I’ve felt the spark you refer to. Don’t describe love to me.”

“I’m sorry, Anne. I’m sorry. What can I say? There are different sorts of love. Perhaps what you feel is the real thing. How can I know?”

Anne truly was delightful to spend time with - a wonderful companion – but he really couldn’t imagine facing all of life’s challenges with her by his side. Try as he may, there was no way he was going to change his mind. He felt abysmal, like the worst sort of scoundrel. He’d taken precious years of her life – had broken her heart. It was plain to see that however much his feelings had changed, hers had only grown stronger with time. He hung his head in shame.

“Would you rather I’d lied?” he asked.

“No. No, of course not. I would have known the truth anyway. I’m not a fool, Sloan. You know that. I’ll survive. I won’t lie either. This has been an awful disappointment. But I’ll move on with my life. You can’t help the way you feel. I understand that. And I can’t help the way I feel either.” She broke into sobs again.

There was silence between them for several minutes. She quietly wept into her handkerchief, while Sloan waited awkwardly, wishing there was more he could do and knowing there wasn’t. Finally, she spoke.

“What are your plans now?” she sniffled.

“I want to see Elise. You know that. I‘m aware that I don’t know very much about her. I know her name, and that she’s Russian by birth, brought to France as a tiny child. Beyond that, I know very little. You probably know more than I do. You’ve certainly had more time to get to know her. But there’s absolutely no doubt in my mind – none whatsoever. She’s the person meant to be my partner forever. Whatever the circumstances, I’ve firmly made up my mind. I have to see her again. It’s my hope to persuade Elise she’s meant to be my wife. It sounds insane, even to my ears. But she’s the girl I’ve dreamt of, since I was old enough to have such thoughts. Anne, if I don’t win her love, I’ll live alone for the rest of my days.”

“Do you suppose if Elise doesn’t feel the same way, you might decide we were meant to be together after all?”

“Oh, Anne. I surely don’t want you hoping for that, wasting more of your life. I beg you to think of me as your dear friend. Go find your own soulmate. If I believe so strongly that there’s someone God meant for me, then I equally believe that there’s someone waiting for you. Please find him. Don’t be bitter and angry with me. You have to believe there’s a reason for everything in the world. Someday you’ll find the reason for the pain you’re feeling now.”