No Regrets: A Novel of Love and Lies in World War II England (The Thornton Trilogy Book 1) (16 page)

BOOK: No Regrets: A Novel of Love and Lies in World War II England (The Thornton Trilogy Book 1)
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“My God, Sloan, are you certain she’s real. She really is magnificent. How long have you had this picture? It looks like you need a new one.” Elliott laughed.

“Yes. It’s been through five years of war. She gave it to me the day I met her. We only spoke for a short while. Her voice is soft and gentle, with a magical, feminine tone. She’s very articulate, but also meek – not given to use of words that overwhelm or try to impress. There’s an incredibly demure quality about her. One only has to be in her presence to recognize her innocence. There’s not one feature that isn’t graceful and charming. There aren’t words, Elliott – refinement, poise, elegance. None really tell the complete story. From the moment I saw her, she’s been lodged in my heart. I cannot forget her. Call it an obsession if you will. I think there are some people who would. I suspect my parents might use that word. Frankly, I wouldn’t argue. I
am
obsessed with her. If I don’t win her, I can’t imagine ever finding another woman who would satisfy me.”

“Whew, Sloan. You have it bad. But, I envy you. How incredible it must be to feel that way about someone. I’ve longed for such love. That, to me, is true love. Have you ever studied the history of the soulmate notion?”

“Not really. But, because my life has been so transformed by meeting Elise, I do mean to study whether great minds of the past actually believed such things are possible,” answered Sloan.

“You’ll discover a lot of historical figures who wrote about, and discussed, the concept. As far back as Plato. I’m sure you’re familiar with Edgar Cayce, the fascinating man from Kentucky in America, who went into trances and performed miraculous feats. He believed we’re meant to find our other half in order to be complete. Jewish people have a word –
Bashert
. It refers to one’s divinely ordained spouse. The Bible, in Genesis, refers to the belief that forty days before a child is born, its mate is determined. It’s a remarkable subject when you honestly study it in depth.”

“My God. I had no idea. I have a lot of studying to do. What you’re saying only solidifies my own beliefs. I’m glad we ran into one another and that I opened up to you about what I’m going through.”

“I’m glad too, Sloan. I sincerely hope the reunion with Elise turns out to fulfill your destiny. You’ve whetted my own appetite. After listening to you, I feel I should be doing more to find my own other half. But truthfully, I don’t think that’s the way it works. I think fate brings your soulmate to you, and when she appears, you know it. There doesn’t seem to be any question in your mind, based on the way you’ve described your certainty about Elise. One can’t go gallivanting around the world searching for one person among the masses.”

“Precisely, Elliott. You’ll know, I promise. But, I do think you have to be keenly aware at all times. From my own experience, I can tell you that I felt like I’d been hit over the head. There won’t be any question in your mind, when it happens to you.”

“Let’s drink to your future, old friend. Promise you’ll let me meet her when I visit Thornton-on-Sea
.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

As soon as he returned to Thornton-on-Sea, Sloan made a beeline to the small, stone cottage near the water. He knew he should have rung Elise to give her warning, but he was afraid she’d put him off. It seemed more promising to simply show up at her door. He was familiar with the whereabouts of her home, since he’d lived in Thornton-on-Sea all of his life, and the cottage had been there as long as he could remember. It was a pretty, early autumn day, and he decided to walk. He’d met Giselle, his mother’s lady’s maid, on that first evening home, and it was likely she’d be at the cottage with Elise, since it was a Monday. Sloan was aware that Monday was a day-off for her. Giselle had only recently returned to her employment, since she’d been caring for her fiancé, a Major in the American Air Force. Sloan knew all about their love story and looked forward to knowing her better. Her fiancé, Major Cabot, was actually living at
Highcroft Hall,
still recovering from ghastly wounds suffered on D-Day. Sloan had briefly met him, and liked him a lot.

When he approached the cottage, Sloan could see an abundance of blooms in the front garden. Amidst them was a tall, fair-haired figure, bent over a thicket of roses, lilies, delphiniums, and blue hydrangeas. He stopped and studied her, without her knowledge. He could have stood there for the entire day. She was compulsively charming. The oval contour of her face was perfect, just as he’d remembered. She surely hadn’t been a dream, nor had he made her into more than she was. The same crown of pale, golden hair fell around her smooth brow. He could imagine seeing her in the dim aisle of a country church, as an angel or Madonna. As he walked closer, she looked up with a startled glance – shy, sweet, hesitating. He unlatched the front gate and went to her. A beautiful blush spread across her face, as pretty as the colour of a pale, pink rose. She smiled.

“Lord Thornton,” she exclaimed.

“Yes, Elise. I’m pleased you remember me after all of these years.”

“Yes, I do. Of course. Anne speaks of you often. Your name is a household word here.”

“I hope you’re not tired of it.”

“No, of course not.” Then she drew back, with what seemed like hesitation. It was clear she had doubts about him.

“Elise, I want you to think of me as a friend, just as you do Anne. I know I frightened you, and was perhaps a bit too aggressive, when we met in France in 1940. I didn’t mean to. There was so little time. But, now I’d like to begin anew. I’d like to get to know you, and for you to know me. Can we be friends?”

“A friend of mine?” she questioned. “Surely you know I’m not one of the aristocracy, from which you choose your friends.”

“That’s rubbish, Elise. Anne has a title, and she’s your friend. Why not me as well?”

She looked up at him and murmured, “I don’t think you understand.”

“Yes I do, Elise. Anne has told me your entire story.” It was impossible for Sloan not to notice that she visibly shrank from pain at his words.

“Did she? I wish she hadn’t. That was rather cruel of her. She knows my story isn’t meant to be shared with others.”

“Yes, she does know it. She wouldn’t tell just anyone. I’m certain of that. It wasn’t simple curiosity on my part. I needed to know. Anne and I have been friends for a long time. She’s like my sister, and we don’t keep secrets. It was natural that she’d tell me about you. After all, I’m no longer engaged to her, because I met you.”

“I know. That seems so utterly unbelievable. You don’t even know me. After hearing my story, I’m surprised you still want to be my friend?”

“Why in blazes wouldn’t I? Just answer one question. Is that sad story any fault of yours? Are you to blame for it?”

“No. But, while I don’t share the fault, I share the shame.”

“There’s no shame in what happened to you. I consider you courageous and brave. I told you when we first met that I’d see you again in England. I had no idea what both of us would endure before that became reality. I know you don’t like to speak about what you’ve been through, and I understand completely. There’s no reason to speak of it. You’ve turned a page and started a new life. That’s what’s important to me.”

“You have quite a different point of view than I think most men would. It’s nice to know that. I’m still not certain you totally understand, but if you say so, then I’ll accept your word.”

“I understand you have a lovely, little girl. Chloe, is it?”

“Yes. Chloe. I adore her. She’s my world.”

“How old is she now?”

“She turned four years last February. She’s just started school. I’m very proud of her. Because I read to her from the time she could understand words, she can already read herself. She loves her books. I suppose she takes after me in that regard.”

“I’m anxious to meet her. I’ve also heard a lot about Giselle. She may have told you that I briefly met her. My parents adore her. I understand she’ll be marrying her American airman before too long. I’ve met him, as well. Will you stay here in the cottage after she goes to America?”

“Yes. Now that Chloe is in school, I have more free time. I’ll extend my French teaching. I have a class of eight little girls now. I’ll add another class - perhaps two. I’ve fast become the person from whom everyone wants their child to learn French. That’s how I met Anne. She took lessons from me, too. Now she’s so fluent, she doesn’t need me anymore. But we became friends during that time. She visits just to see me, not to learn.”

They were still standing in the beautiful garden. Elise suddenly realized she hadn’t invited him inside, nor offered any refreshment.

“I’m so sorry, Lord Thornton. I should have invited you in.” She removed her gardening gloves and moved to open the door. “I wasn’t expecting a guest, so forgive me if everything isn’t as tidy as it should be.”

Sloan laughed. “I didn’t pop over here to examine your housecleaning abilities. Thank you for inviting me in, and please call me Sloan.”

He followed her into the charming cottage and on into the parlour. Of course everything was neat as a pin, which he’d suspected would be the case. She asked if he would like a cup of tea, and he answered in the affirmative. So, she bustled into the small kitchen, and put the kettle on. He watched as she walked from the parlour to prepare the tea. She was every bit as lovely as she’d been that first day in France. Perhaps even more so. There’d been so much fear and anxiety that day, and now Elise looked relaxed and fulfilled. Her mass of curls was pinned on top of her head, with tendrils falling about her pretty face. She wore a floral sundress and a white cardigan. The dress showed off her waistline, which was very small. There was nothing self-centered about her, but she had a proud, graceful demeanour.

When she returned to the parlour, she brought a tea tray. Placing it on the table in front of the chintz sofa, she said, “I remember you wanting cream and sugar when I offered you coffee in France. Is it the same for tea?” she asked, as she filled a cup.

“No. Just plain, thank you. I’m surprised you remember such a small detail. It’s strange how certain things remain in our minds, isn’t it?”

Elise nodded her head. “Yes. For some reason, that’s clear as a bell.” She smiled as she handed him the cup.

“Although I was injured, and in a rush to reach the beaches at Dunkirk, I think I remember everything about that day. It was quite extraordinary for me.”

“Extraordinary in what way?” she asked.

“I promised myself I wouldn’t go into all of that again,” Sloan laughed. “I was struck with the fact that you so resembled the lady I’d dreamed of for such a long time.”

“Sloan, you can’t still be obsessed with the fantasy you spoke of then?”

“Yes – I’m afraid so.” He stopped talking and reached into his trouser pocket. When he removed his hand, there was the crumpled-up photograph.

Elise was amazed. “Do you mean to say you still have that picture? How incredible. It looks quite worn.”

“It should. I carried it on every mission. Sometimes, at night, in the desert, I’d take out my torch and flash the light upon this picture. When I felt particularly despondent, it helped me get through the loneliness.” He put it back into his pocket. “But, I came here to ask for your friendship, so I won’t go into a dissertation about my belief in soulmates.”

“You’re the first person I’d ever heard use that term. Since then, I’ve heard it many times. Giselle, my housemate and dear friend, is a firm believer. She’s convinced that Ted Cabot, the man she’s going to marry, is
her
soulmate.”

“Ah – so perhaps I’ve been redeemed. You see, there are others who think as I do.”

“Yes, but Sloan, didn’t you think Anne was your soulmate too?” she asked, with a gentle smile.

“You’ll probably be surprised to learn that I didn’t. I know. I know. I asked her to marry me. Yet, she wasn’t at all my ideal. I was leaving for the war. I’d known Anne since childhood, and as you’re aware, she’s a beautiful woman. I loved her, but not in the way I should have. She’d always been like a sister to me. I was wrong to propose to her. It was what could be called a weak moment on the eve of war. It didn’t take long for me to regret my actions.”

“I know. She told me the entire story. She’s a very brave lady, but I suspect you broke her heart.”

“I suspect I did. But we’ve seen each other and talked it out. She completely accepts everything. Now I want to see her move on with her life and find the right man.”

“I hope that happens too.” Elise got up from her chair, and refilled his teacup. When she was settled again, Sloan changed the subject.

“What of your brother? Wasn’t his name Josef? Have you heard from him?”

“No. Not a word since Dunkirk. I don’t know how to go about searching for him. I continually look at advertisements in the
London Times
, but he seems to have disappeared.”

“Perhaps I might help you. Have you any idea what sort of fighting he would have done, assuming he reached England and joined with the British Forces?”

“Not really. I suppose it might have been anything. He was trained as a civilian pilot, so my first guess would be aeroplanes, in some capacity.”

“Let me do some checking. There were entire squadrons comprised of French Resistance.”

“I didn’t know that. I’d give anything to find him. I pray he wasn’t killed. Somehow, I have an inkling that he’s safe, but I can’t say why.”

As they sat in the parlour chatting, the front door opened and beautiful, dark-haired Giselle entered, holding the hand of an adorable, little girl. Elise jumped up and ran to the child.

“My precious Chloe. How was school today? Did you and Aunt Gissy go for a treat afterwards? Come along, darling. I have someone for you to meet.”

Elise’s face was flushed, and it was obvious that she was immensely proud of the child. Taking her by the hand, she led Chloe to Sloan.

“Lord Sloan Thornton, this is Miss Chloe Arabella de Baier”. Chloe looked up at him with expressive brown eyes and dropped a small curtsy. She had Elise’s blonde curls and an exquisite face. There was no question about whether she would grow up to be a beauty.

“How do you do, Lord Thornton,” she murmured, a bit shyly.

“And how do you do, Miss Chloe. You look a lot like your Mummy. I think you must have many people tell you how pretty you are.”

“Yes,” she answered, looking at the floor. “But Mummy says that’s not important. I must be beautiful on the inside.”

“Mummy is right,” Sloan laughed. “But I suspect you are both.”

“Sometimes I’m naughty.”

There was more laughter. “Not very often,
Mon Cherie
,” said Elise.

Giselle walked into the room and joined the conversation. “So, I suspected the renowned Sloan Thornton would pay a visit to our cottage before too much longer. We met at your parent’s home on your first evening home.” She reached out her hand to shake his.

“Yes, of course I remember. How fortunate for my mother to have you.. But I understand you’ll be leaving now that peace has come. I’ve met Ted. It’s off to America, is it?”

“Right. I’m looking forward to my new adventure. I have a lot to thank your parents for. If it hadn’t been for them, I’d never have met Ted.”

“I didn’t know that,” Sloan responded. “How did it come about?”

Giselle poured herself a cup of tea, while Elise took Chloe up the stairway to change her clothing.

“It’s a convoluted tale. I met Anne Whitfield through your parents. Lord and Lady Thornton were good friends of Ted’s parents, in Boston. John Cabot, Ted’s father, went to Oxford. John and Lord Whitfield have kept in touch, and when Ted was sent to England in the Air Corps, John Cabot wrote to his old friend, asking him to keep an eye on Ted. They invited him to dinner at
Meadowlands
, where Anne met him. After that, the next time he was in Thornton-on-Sea, she invited your parents, Elise, and me to a tea, where we met him. So, that was that. It wasn’t too long before Ted and I knew we were meant for each other.”

“What a nice story. I liked him. We have a lot in common. Was he based in England throughout the war?”

“Yes, First in Ashford, and later in Ridgewell. He flew the flying Fortress.”

“Impressive. When are you planning your wedding?”

BOOK: No Regrets: A Novel of Love and Lies in World War II England (The Thornton Trilogy Book 1)
5.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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