Chapter 10

Stewart drove the motorcar along the graceful sweep of the driveway. Tonight was a private affair; there was only a small number of people expected, and our motor sat alone at the front portico.

"Do keep out of the way, Eleanor," Elizabeth said under her breath as the butler opened the side door and offered his hand. Louise pushed Charlotte out of the way to go next.

As they disappeared up the wide steps, I saluted. "Yes, ma'am." I waved my hand into the dark. "Around the back my good man, before any respectable person claps eyes on me."

Stewart chuckled. "Yes, ma'am."

In the rear yard of the sprawling Serenity House, nine other motors were all lined up. Chauffeurs gathered in the dim light of the stables and smoked cigarettes, rolled dice, and chatted.

I slung the shotgun over my back and joined the edges of the group. I didn't want to dampen the men's conversation, and I still longed for time to myself.

Frank broke away from the game and walked toward me. He wore an uneven smile, and it struck me he was a man comfortable with his looks and charm. Similar, and yet at odds with his employer. Seth held a mild hesitance, perhaps because women saw the title first and the man second, or possibly even third after the size of his bank balance. Frank had the swagger of a man who knew women wanted him and not any trappings. No wonder Alice found him appealing.

"Hello, Ella. No night off?"

"Hello, Frank. No, apparently my discreet presence was required."

He huffed a soft laugh and tossed his cigarette, squashing the butt under his toe. "Honestly, that woman treats you like a servant. What you need is a union."

I laughed. "I think she's already a big believer in Suffrage, particularly mine."

"Why don't you join us? The kitchens will send out supper shortly. Seth always makes sure everyone gets fed." He gestured back to the fire dancing in the brazier. It burned not for warmth, as the summer evening was mild, but for the cheery comfort the flames emitted.

Seth. His name ticked over in my head?it hadn't sounded odd until now. Frank referred to him by his first name, not your grace or Lord Leithfield.

"Why do you call him that?" If I didn't ask, I would never find out.

That easy smile graced his face, familiar grey eyes glinting with humour. "Because it's his name."

He went back to the other men and left me without an adequate explanation. There was something afoot here, and I narrowed my eyes. A vague niggle in the back of my head whispered of a secret to be sniffed out, I just needed a starting point. If Frank wouldn't share, then I planned to tackle Alice as soon as I got home. Up in our tiny attic room she would have no escape.

Stewart waved me over, and I was greeted with smiles and kind words. I soon found a set of dice in one hand as I tried to beat another man's roll. Two sixes landed face up in the dirt, and cheers of hooray went up around me. Maybe I could get used to this easy camaraderie. Plates of steaming food arrived from the kitchen, and true to Frank's word, Seth delivered us a mouth-watering meal of venison casserole.

I let the men's chatter wash over me. They talked of many things, but I noticed there was one topic nobody ever mentioned.

"None of you talk about the war," I said to Frank as I spooned more stew into my mouth.

For the first time that night, the smile dropped away. "We don't need to talk about it. We were there."

"But we weren't. If you don't tell us about it, who will?" I read the newspaper, and when the occasional silent newsreel turned up, we all sat in church to watch as Father Mason read from a sheet. But that all seemed removed, events narrated by the reverend and not told in a voice of a participant. I didn't understand their reluctance. Was it some soldier code of secrecy?

"Because it's too raw, and most of us just want to forget. We want to move on with our lives and build something new, not remember everything we saw torn apart and trampled underfoot." His gaze searched mine.

Gosh, when he's being serious he looks like his employer.

His words triggered something in me. "I think that's why Henry can't speak. His mind is still trapped there." I wanted to reach my friend, standing somewhere alone on an abandoned battlefield. If only I could reach him, somehow, and bring him fully home to us.

"Are you sure he can't talk?" Frank asked.

I frowned. Anyone who met Henry knew he couldn't talk. Wind blew over his vocal cords like a gust through the desolate old mill. Only in the grip of his nightmares could he scream. "What do you mean? Of course he can't talk."

He shrugged. "Lot of women in your household, are you sure he just can't get a word in?"

"Not funny." He laughed at the look on my face, and I smacked his arm.

"You and Alice are doing the right thing by him, Ella. Just keep reminding him he's home, among the living. Some of us saw so much death, it's hard to imagine anything else."

I cleaned out my bowl with a piece of fresh bread and placed it in the large wicker basket to go back to the kitchen. "I'm going for a walk."

"You can go that way and spy in the window if you like." Frank pointed to the north side of Serenity House. "Don't wander too far, though."

I patted the shotgun. "I won't."

I followed one wall of buff stone and walked around a corner. This side of the house had high windows and light spilled out onto the gravel. Laughter and chatter rose over the quiet music playing in the background. I bit my lip. Should I peek? Part of me wanted to know how the dinner party was unfolding, but another part didn't want to end up shot, mistaken for a prowling vermin.

Curiosity won out. I crept behind a rampant shrub and peered between its green boughs. My line of sight was somewhat hampered, but I saw enough. The dinner table was cleared, and the diners had moved to the adjourning room to take their coffee, brandy, and cigars. Charlotte looked a gem amongst them in her harem pants. Two men were talking to her, and I saw a blush creep up her neck. Good for her! Her sister always dominated attention and it was nice to see her garner some for herself.

Seth stood talking to a number of expensively dressed women. Diamonds dripped from ear lobes and around necks. Louise by contrast was bereft of ostentatious jewellery. I knew exactly what topic she would castigate her mother about on the ride home. She clung to Seth's arm as though he were a life preserver thrown off the Titanic. Her grasp looked so tight, even from my position in the shrubbery I could see his hand twitch, no doubt trying to regain sensation.

His handsome face was pinched, and tired lines were drawn around his eyes. Not that anyone seemed to notice. We obviously had a difference of opinion about the disposal of vermin, but I felt genuinely sorry for him. He was trapped by his title and position, but he couldn't remove it or set it aside. It hung over him like an enveloping cloud.

I backed away and headed across the drive to the garden at the side of the house. The darkened maze drew my attention. Oh, to lose to myself within its verdant walls. What would I find? Myself, perhaps, wondering what to make of my life? I repositioned the shotgun on my back and heaved a sigh.

Happy birthday to me.

I should leave, perhaps go to London and start afresh, except I could never leave while father still breathed. And not while the others needed my sword arm.

Someone turned up the music and the melody floated across the lawn as I entered the maze. The dense shrubbery muted the sounds, but it lent a magical air to my wanderings. I kept my left hand trailing through the tufts. An old trick to ensure you didn't turn yourself around and double back. It would take longer, but I didn't mind. I enjoyed being lost, if only for a little while.

Before too long, the last corner turned into the heart of the maze, revealing a square clearing with a large pond at its centre where bright orange koi flashed under the moonlight. A fountain of a young woman holding an urn trickled water below, adding a high sweet note to the soaring saxophone.

Peace enveloped me as I sat on the stone edge, trailing my fingers in the cool water. Lush jasmine wafted across the night air from an arbour on one side of the clearing. The perfect place for lovers to shelter while they exchanged kisses.

"You're not carrying a sword tonight, I hope?"

The voice made me jump, and I leapt to my feet. My heart beat against my chest as he stepped from the hedge like a topiary come to life.

I dropped a quick curtsey. "No, your grace, shotgun tonight." I jabbed a thumb over my shoulder.

In the pale light I saw the smile on his face. "Seth, remember? We had this conversation." He wore a black dinner jacket and crisp white shirt, but had pulled apart his bow tie and it hung loose around his neck. "I thought you didn't come. I asked Warrens to ensure you were invited, but you never appeared inside."

He invited me? Did that mean he had flushed out my hiding spot? "I arrived with my relatives. They are inside and no doubt they will sorely miss your presence." Brilliant, Ella. That entire sentence was truthful, not a single lie needed.

He laughed. "Ever seen a cat toy with a mouse? The way it will bat it back and forth just for its own entertainment? That's what I felt like in there?the mouse. Flicked back and forth to keep the women entertained."

Personally I would compare my step-relatives to a venomous snake. Or perhaps a boa constrictor, given the way Louise clutched at him. She looked like she could break a few of his ribs before trying to devour him.

"Why didn't you come in? I was looking for you." He moved closer with feline grace, no battered mouse here.

Inside, I breathed a sigh of relief that I was wearing a dress. At least in the dark, I appeared to be another dinner guest. "Because after how we parted at the manse, I thought I might not be welcome."

He stopped and that piercing gaze held mine. "Oh, Ella." He took my hands in his, and drew me over to the bower.

I followed his lead and dropped onto the seat, although it was awfully intimate?a mere fraction of an inch separated our bodies. He let my hand go, and we sat in silence for a moment.

"I'm sorry, I never mean to offend. It's just that watching you dispose of that poor turned woman brought back memories I would rather leave buried."

I swallowed. Having spoken to Frank this evening, I was starting to understand. Burying many aspects of the war helped these men piece their lives back together.

"I was stationed on the Northern front, and I saw men who delighted in the slaughter. Pleas for mercy meant nothing to them. They had black, soulless eyes like sharks and would laugh as they drove the bayonet into a wounded man."

This evening just got worse. "You think I have soulless eyes?"

"No." His grey eyes widened. "Quite the opposite. If the eyes are the windows to the souls, then yours are a masterpiece stained glass window residing in a great cathedral. Breath-stealing beautiful, a man could spend a lifetime studying every nuance and shade and the underlying meaning in their complexity." His gaze remained fixed on mine.

"Oh." One little syllable was all I could manage. What on earth did a girl say in response to that?

"Never did I mean to liken you to them." He reached out and took my hand. "Some memories of war bubble to the surface and won't stay submerged."

He's holding my hand. The duke, holding the hand of the housekeeper's daughter. I looked around, first to check if anyone was watching to denounce me, and then a giggle of joy burst up in my chest. He was holding my hand. What strange power such a simple act possessed, all my consciousness focused on the point of contact. He warmed me, and liquid heat spread up my arm as though I had chugged back father's best brandy.

"The war hasn't ended though, it just changed," I whispered.

"You are extraordinary," he said. "I have never met another woman quite like you." His other hand caressed the side of my face. He leaned closer and his scent wrapped around me, mingling with the surrounding jasmine. He pulled me toward him.

His lips brushed against mine in the barest butterfly kiss. I gasped as electricity arced between us. He let go of my hand to slide his arm around my waist as he tormented me with his touch, pulling me closer to deepen the kiss. His tongue flicked along the seam of my lips and I parted them, granting him access as the music slowed and swelled. Heat rolled through my body as I let him lead in this dance, mimicking the nips he gave to my lip before he lured my tongue into his mouth to explore.

Just as well we were sitting, because my knees turned to liquid and only his arm around me kept my torso upright. If he let go now, I would flop to the ground like a boneless ragdoll. My body screamed for more as I pressed myself to him. His heat radiated through the thin fabric of my dress.

An eternity later, he pulled back and rested his forehead against mine. We both breathed hard. "I hoped you would be here," he said.

"And now you have found me," I replied.

A loud call of "Your grace! Your grace!" floated above the saxophone and drifted through the dense yew. Seth groaned and tucked me against his side.

"You have been missed. Best the mouse returns, now that he has recovered his breath."

I certainly needed to recover mine. My chest heaved as though I had run all the way home, and I suspected my legs were still jelly.

Voices moved closer and continued to call his name. "Will you be at the f腎e?" he asked.

"I imagine so. You had best return to the party, or they will think you have been dragged into the undergrowth by a vermin." I gave him a push, admittedly a half-hearted one, as I didn't want to lose his touch.

He gave me a quick, swift kiss on the lips and rose to his feet. "Good. I will find you Sunday. You should know, I am going to hold a ball, you will have to come and dance with me. Promise, Ella. Promise you will dance with me."

Absurd. Preposterous. But the moment was magical and anything could happen. "All right. Now go, before they find us here alone."

Another kiss and he was gone, back amongst the greenery.