Summerset Abbey: Spring Awakening (Summerset Abbey Trilogy) (31 page)

“Did you know that Cristobel and I ride together when I’m home? She probably never told you that, did she? But we do, and when it’s time for her to be presented, I am going to give her my white dress and make sure she has a proper coming-out ball. I know you don’t think that’s important, but Cristobel does. I think I am going to have her hunt with me next season, she has become quite the jumper. . . .” Rowena ran out of words and covered her eyes with her hand. The events of the day caught up with her and her stomach rolled. She took a couple of deep breaths to calm the dizziness.

Suddenly she felt a tiny movement of his hand within hers. She looked up to find Jonathon’s blue eyes trained on her face. They were speaking to her, his eyes, communicating with her without words. She could feel his love and gratitude washing over her. She leaned forward and again brought to mind the memories she had recalled earlier. His mouth on hers. The laughter they’d shared when that silly stick fell out of the aeroplane. She willed the memories to flood his mind, too, and felt
that perhaps they were. His eyes drooped and she could feel his pain and exhaustion.

Bending closer, she willed him to stay awake, to stay with her. She felt him trying to rally, and for a moment the determination in his eyes shone, but he was too tired and the pain was too much. His eyes fluttered.

“I love you, Jonathon,” she said, her heart breaking all over again. At this moment, nothing was more important than Jonathon’s knowing how much she loved him, and how much she would always love him.

Jonathon’s eyes dimmed and she knew he was leaving her, and without taking her eyes from his, she knelt and slipped her arms around him. While the thought of a world without Jonathon filled her with grief and loss, all she felt now was an overwhelming sense of thankfulness that she could be here with him.

How many men dying in this war were able to do so in the arms of someone who loved them?

Then he was gone.

Tears streamed down her face as she rested her head against his chest and listened to the last beatings of his heart. The connection she’d had with his spirit evaporated and she felt bereft and utterly alone. She wished Sebastian were with her.

She didn’t know how long she stayed that way, with her head pressed against his body, but by the time the nurse came to move her away, her legs were in knots of pain. She staggered with cramps as she got up.

“Is there anything I can do?” the nurse asked gently.

“No,” Rowena said, looking at Jonathon’s still form. “It’s all been done.”

T
hough she could have slept longer, Victoria’s lifelong habit of rising with the sun woke her up early. For a moment, she was disoriented and couldn’t figure out where she was. Somehow she’d expected to wake up in her dear little room in the Mayfair house with its beautiful maple furniture and marble fireplace.

Not that she didn’t adore this room in her flat. It was clean with white walls and high ceilings, and she’d had the floor refinished and it gleamed darkly. Her fireplace had been replaced with a radiator, and some of the panes in her windows were warped and pitted, but that was all right. She lived much more simply than she ever had before, and it suited her.

She swung her legs out of bed and stretched, then dug her toes into the lamb’s-wool rug next to her bed. Before heading to the bathroom, she slipped her feet into the knitted slippers Katie had given her for Christmas. She knew from experience that the tile floor of the WC could be brutally cold. Of course, now that April was finally bringing warmer weather, she didn’t burn her feet on the icy floor near so much.

After donning her soft, billowy lawn robe, she tiptoed down the hall to the kitchen to make some tea. Susie wouldn’t be up,
and Eleanor was already away to one of the hospitals she either worked in or volunteered at.

On the advice of both her doctor and Eleanor, Victoria only worked three days a week at the hospital. Her heath just wouldn’t stand any more, and she was learning, finally, that she was not indestructible. She had asthma, she would always have asthma, and the sooner she reconciled herself to that, the better off she would be.

She was still working on it.

Lighting the gas range, she put the teapot on to boil and set out cups for both her and Susie. Aunt Charlotte would be aghast to know that Victoria usually made tea for her maid in the mornings, but it wasn’t Susie’s fault that her mistress liked to wake while it was still dark. Besides, Victoria knew that Susie’s beau had visited until late last night. She also knew she would in time be looking for a new housekeeper.

She padded down the hall to the front door to get the milk. It seemed odd not to have a servants’ entrance for that, but there was only one way in and out of the apartment besides the fire escape, and Victoria giggled at the thought of the milkman climbing the fire escape to leave milk outside her window.

She opened the door and jumped at the shock of finding a tall man just outside. It took her a moment to realize who it was.

Kit.

She launched herself at him, forgetting everything that had transpired between them in her gladness upon seeing him. He held her for a moment, taking her right off her feet, and a burst of happiness shot through her. He was alive.

But then he firmly set her back on her feet and stepped away from her. Because now, they were just friends.

He was in love with someone else.

Biting her lip, she backed up and motioned for him to enter. “What are you doing here? How are you? Have you seen Colin or Sebastian? And don’t forget the milk, if you please.”

He laughed, bending to retrieve the cold bottle on her step. “Even a mighty clash of countries can’t change the impertinent Miss Victoria. It’s nice to know that some things will always remain the same.”

The comment vexed her. “Shows how much you know. I have grown immensely since you last set eyes on me. Immensely.”

She felt his eyes on her as she walked down the hall into her kitchen. “I don’t see it,” he finally said.

She bit back a retort, suddenly overwhelmed by how much she yearned for him, that cheeky, insufferable tease. But her longing only made her angrier. She turned away, afraid he would see the depth of her feelings naked across her face.

So Victoria ignored his remark. “I’m sure you would like a cup of tea. Are you hungry, as well?”

“Why? Are you going to whip me up a batch of bloaters poached in cream sauce?” His voice was far too amused for her liking.

“No, you ninny, I was going to offer you a scone that Susie cooked yesterday, but I’ve changed my mind. You can starve.”

“Is that any way to treat a member of the British army?”

She took a deep breath. “You’re right. Now tell me who you’ve seen and I will get you your tea and a scone, but be a good lad and stop vexing me.”

He snorted, but changed the subject. “I saw Sebastian not too long ago. He is doing well. I think he will be getting leave in
the next couple of weeks. Do you think he and Rowena will be married then?”

“That’s the plan.”

“It’s the strangest relationship,” Kit mused. “At first the engagement was fake and then it wasn’t, and then the wedding got postponed at least three times, or was it four? It gives me a headache just thinking about it. I can’t imagine what it’s doing to your aunt Charlotte.”

“Or Sebastian’s mother.” Victoria shuddered as she laid the table for tea. “Makes me glad I don’t live at Summerset anymore.”

“Yes. Poor Lainey.”

The tea water squealed and Victoria poured it carefully over the leaves she had already put in the china pot. Arranging the scones on a plate, she carried it to where Kit had seated himself at the tiny wooden kitchen table.

“I hope you don’t mind, I always have my morning tea in the kitchen now. It’s warmer than the sitting room.”

“No, this is fine.”

Victoria sat across from him and took a closer look. He was thinner than she remembered, refining his handsome, clever features. His blue eyes were a bit dimmer, as if the switch that worked the twinkle had been shut off.

How she hoped it wasn’t permanent.

He added some sugar to his cup and stirred. “I’m glad we got all that sorted out,” he said casually.

“What have we sorted out?”

“Our relationship. Just friends, you know. Like you wanted.”

Aching spread through her chest. “Yes. Such a relief, that.”

“Yes.”

Silence.

“So tell me about that woman.” Victoria didn’t want to know about the woman, but if she didn’t, he might think she minded, which she did, awfully, but he certainly didn’t need to know that.

“What woman?”

Victoria raised her eyebrows.

“Oh, that woman. Yes. She’s great actually. Really . . . great.”

Victoria stared down into her cup, horrified that she could feel tears coming already. She was going to cry. How could he have loved her so much only to replace her so suddenly with a stranger?

She fought to keep the tears from falling, but one slipped down her face and fell off her chin into her tea.

He cleared his throat and she stared at her cup, unable to meet his eyes. Humiliation bloomed like twin roses in her cheeks.

“Actually, that isn’t exactly the truth. There is no woman. I made that up.”

Victoria looked up, startled. “Why would you lie about that?”

He shrugged and his foxy face pinched up. “You had made it clear that we were just friends and my pride was hurt. So I lied. But, I’ve come to decide that if we are to truly be friends, we have to at least be honest with one another.”

He looked into her face and frowned. “Victoria, why are you crying?”

Pride and longing warred inside. She ached to tell him that she loved him, but what if he no longer felt the same way? Hurt over her rejection still bloomed in her chest. “If you felt that way, you could have at least acknowledged my feelings. I poured
out my heart and you sent me back that horrid letter, saying that you had found someone else!”

“I apologized for lying, what do you want? And, yes, you poured out your heart very well that night. You were very clear about the fact that you didn’t love me. Crystal even.”

“What are you talking about?” she demanded. “Not then, you dolt. The letter. I am talking about my letter! You can imagine that it wasn’t easy for me to write, and then when I received your reply . . .”

She stood then with her fists clenched rigidly at her sides. How she longed to hit him.

“What letter are you talking about? From you? I never received a letter from you. I stepped up and extended an olive branch from the warfront asking if we could be friends, and you ignored me. May as well have shot me down, as it would have been less painful than your stubborn silence.”

Victoria closed her eyes, breathing hard. She couldn’t speak. He never received her letter. He didn’t know. Would it have made a difference?

There was no help for it. She sat on the chair and began to work at controlling her breathing before it turned into a full-blown episode.

“Victoria?” She felt him kneeling beside her and putting a gentle hand on her knee. “Do you need your nebulizer?”

She shook her head. Even now she could feel her chest loosening. She had to tell him that she had written to him. He might reject her, but if she didn’t at least try, she would never know.

It took several more minutes before she could speak, and he waited on his knee beside her, his blue eyes concerned.

“I sent you a letter. About a week after you left that night.”
She looked down at the ground, gathering her courage. Her father had said there was no gain without risk, and when had she ever been afraid of risk?

“What did the letter say?” he asked gently.

“I told you that I had been wrong. And stupid. That I loved you and was in love with you and I didn’t ever want to lose you. Couldn’t lose you. And then when you sent that letter to me . . . I thought I did.”

She looked into his eyes and saw that he was beaming. “Oh, my dear. You could never lose me. I don’t know why or how you could love someone like me, but I won’t question it if you are sure it’s true. Please say it’s true. I can’t take much more being played with.”

The hope in his voice set her heart soaring. She reached up and touched his cheek. “My darling Kit. I would never play with you. Not anymore. I am so sorry it took me so long to understand, but I am rather a late bloomer, you know. And I have been known to be stubborn.”

He snorted and she gave him a pinch. “But it’s true, I love you so, I can hardly breathe. It was thoughts of you that kept me alive while at the front, even just thoughts of our friendship. Please say you love me back and you still want to marry me. Because
I would very much like to marry you, as long as we would be equal partners and you would give me equal say, no matter what the conventional mandates of marriage would imply . . . and only if you will let me win
at least
every other argument.”

He stood and pulled her up against him. “Where is a vicar? I want to marry you before you change your mind!”

She rapped him on the head with her knuckles. “It’s too late to change your mind. If you do, I will tell Aunt Charlotte and your mother.”