by Julie Rowe
She gasped.
He pulled back and buried his face against her neck. “I’m sorry.”
She said nothing for a moment then whispered, “I didn’t know kissing could be so pleasurable.”
He raised his head and looked down at her. “Neither did I.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh.” Her gaze slipped to the top button of his shirt as one of her fingers played with it. “I suppose that’s good?”
He grinned at her. “It’s going to kill me.” Then he enfolded her in his arms and slipped into the first real sleep since she was taken from him weeks ago.
* * *
Rose lay awake for a long time.
She knew what was going to happen in the morning. Herman would marry her. A woman who had committed treason against his country.
She wasn’t about to marry the man just to get him shot.
There had to be another way for them to travel together. Marriage was too drastic a step, too permanent a statement.
He would argue that there wasn’t. Would insist it was his duty to get her to safety. To look after her, to protect her, to get her out of Belgium.
She’d embarked on her mission to save British and Belgian soldiers because it was her duty and hidden her activities from him on purpose. Had he known, he would have been forced to choose between his loyalty to her and their working relationship and his country.
Despite all her efforts, he’d still had to choose.
It was her fault. Her responsibility to ensure he didn’t pay for her actions, and he would if she didn’t act quickly.
Exhaustion nibbled at her, but she couldn’t succumb. It was up to her to fix the situation.
Carefully, to keep from waking Herman, she slipped from the bed. Her body, tired and sore, protested movement, but she ignored her aches, grabbed her cape and the bag he’d given her earlier, and eased out of the room.
Rose stood and listened for several long moments, but the house was quiet. The stairs were a dark well she descended by feel alone. At the bottom of the stairs she paused to try to remember which direction the back door was in.
A pain-filled moan floated out of the darkness. Years of experience had taught her agony had a sound. It rose from the throat as if torn and ripped from the flesh housing it. Agony resided in this house. Was it Rodney?
Indecision held her hostage. Escape or offer comfort to the pained soul? A second tormented moan ended her internal struggle.
Light wavered, weak and diffuse, from under a doorway. Rose knocked twice then turned the knob and opened the door.
A man rolled side to side on a bed. Rodney. His blankets twisted about his body and sweat glistened on his brow in the candlelight. She put her things down on the dresser near the door, then went over to him and put the back of her hand against his forehead.
Much too hot.
Fevered eyes met her gaze. “Who are you?”
He didn’t remember? “I’m Rose, a nurse.”
A small frown wrinkled his forehead. “Herman’s Rose?”
“Yes. What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”
He closed his eyes and swallowed. “Cold, so cold.”
“You’re burning up.” She placed her hands on either side of his face then put a hand on his shoulder. His clothes were soaked through. She pulled the blankets away and discovered all the bed linens were damp. “How long have you been like this?”
“So c-c-cold.”
“Jesper says a few hours,” said a strong masculine voice behind her.
Rose spun around. Herman stood in the doorway.
“He’s fevered and wet. We need to get him into dry bedding and clothing,” she said as she took off her cape and rolled up her sleeves.
He glanced at her cape and bag. “Going somewhere?”
“Not now I think,” she said, staring at her patient. “Infection?”
Herman walked over to stand next to her. “Let’s have a look at his arm.”
She nodded and helped calm his brother while he unwrapped the bandage. Now she could smell the rot, the beginning of it, but it was there.
Agony twisted Herman’s face. “Damn. I thought I had gotten it all. I’ll have to amputate some more.”
A fly buzzed past and inspiration took hold of Rose’s tongue. “What if we tried maggots?”
“What?”
“The young Brit who came in with the horrible leg wound that should have gone bad, but didn’t. You said you thought the maggots were the reason. Why not try them here?”
“It was a guess. I don’t know if they really helped or not.”
“What do you have to lose?”
“Rodney’s life.”
“The rot hasn’t set in yet, not really. You can always amputate more later. Why not try it now?”
Herman ran a hand through his hair. “Where am I going to find maggots?”
“A butcher shop.” Where, where else? “A fresh grave? Or the other hospital in the palace? Perhaps there are patients there with maggots.”
He rubbed his hands over his face. “I’m so tired, I can’t think straight.”
“Don’t think, do. Does anyone know you helped me escape?”
“Only the young guard and he had his own reasons for helping.”
“Then go and find some. There’s no reason for anyone to think I’m here. They’ll think I’ve run off to the border.”
He stared at her without moving. “As long as when I go, you stay here.”
She stood a little taller. “When have I ever left the side of a patient in need?”
“I’d rather you didn’t leave mine.” He walked to the door. “I’ll send someone up with clean linens.”
“Thank you. Now hurry.”
He disappeared and Rose turned back to her patient. Rodney was thrashing about with his injured arm and she had to speak softly to him to get him to settle down.
She began pulling the wet blankets off the bed and piled them on the floor, then she checked his body for other wounds, but none needed care besides his arm.
Jesper appeared at the door, arms loaded with blankets and loose clothing. “Good morning, ma’am,” he said with a slight inclination of his head. “Master Herman sent me.”
“Excellent, please come in.” She indicated the chair. “You can set those down there and help me strip this bed and get Rodney into some dry clothes.”
“I can manage Rodney,” he said, setting his pile down. “A lady such as yourself need not—”
“I’ve seen more horror and death than you can imagine.” She glanced at the butler’s shocked face. Perhaps he was old-fashioned. She softened her tone. “But I would be grateful for some assistance. I doubt he’s going to be completely cooperative.”
“None of the members of this family ever are, ma’am,” the elderly man said. “I’ve served this household for the better part of forty years.” He gifted her with a half grin so fast she wasn’t sure she saw it. “You’ll fit right in.”
“Will I?” How interesting.
Jesper cleared his throat. “Master Herman mentioned marriage.”
“Good heavens,” she muttered at the wall. It seemed Herman had talked about her quite a bit. The German authorities might have reason to suspect she was here. She rolled Rodney to one side. “Can you help me sit him up?”
Jesper pulled Rodney into a seated position and Rose managed to wrestle his nightshirt off.
“Let’s wrap him in a blanket and put him in the chair for now.”
They did, then she stripped and remade the bed. The two of them got Rodney back into bed and covered up.
“He seems less feverish now,” the old man observed.
“Getting wet made it worse. We’ll probably have to repeat this again in a few hours.”
“Very good. I will prepare more linens.” He turned to go, but Rose stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Thank you, Jesper. You’ve been very helpful.”
“It’s a privilege I hope to repeat.” He nodded at her and left the roo
m, closing the door behind him.
Rose spent the next hour sponging Rodney with cool water and talking to him, when he was conscious enough to understand she was in the room and not a figment of his fevered mind. Dawn was lighting up the morning sky when Herman returned, a cloth bag in one hand.
“How is he?”
“No change. Jesper and I changed his bedding and clothes, and I’ve stayed with him the entire time.”
“His fever?”
“Seems no worse, but certainly isn’t better.”
He nodded. “I found some maggots. I don’t know how much good they’re going to do. Some of them have turned into flies.”
“We have to try.”
He came forward with the bag. Rose unwrapped the bandage on Rodney’s arm and watched as Herman carefully placed each wiggling insect on his brother’s flesh.
“Wrap them loosely. I want to check on it in an hour or so.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Rose.” His voice was a warning.
“Sorry,” she said with a small smile. “I forgot.”
“I haven’t forgotten your attempt to run away from me.”
“Well—” she shrugged, “—I didn’t get very far.”
“Don’t try it again.”
“What, try to avoid having you charged with treason?”
He held her in place with the strength of his stare. “No, leaving me.”
Rose shook her head. “My leaving would be for the best.”
“For whom? Surely not you and definitely not me.”
She wanted to scream, to pummel him with her fists, to kiss him until she couldn’t remember another taste but that of his lips. But she was his doom. “How can you say that? If I’m caught here, everyone in this house will be charged along with me.”
“Rose Culver is going to disappear forever in a few hours,” he said firmly, as if she had no say in the matter. “Rose Humphrey is going to take her place, and she isn’t wanted by anyone other than her new husband.”
She ignored the thrill running through her at his words. “Changing my name isn’t going to be enough.”
“You’re going to change your name, your clothes, your hair, and because no one would think to look for a British nurse in my home, no one will find one.”
“You really believe that will work?”
“Yes.”
“For how long? You’re going to get sent to the front or somewhere else, and then what?”
“I’m going to take you to Germany. From there you’ll go to the Netherlands and then back to England.”
“And you?”
“I will ensure you return home.”
“And then?”
“Then...I will come back and do my duty.”
She stared at him. His entire plan was nothing more than a lengthy suicide attempt. “Your duty doesn’t include dying for your country.”
“Really, Rose, you’re borrowing trouble.”
“It’s already happened to thousands of men, and will happen to thousands more.”
“I’m a surgeon. I’m too valuable to put in the direct line of fire.”
“But they will execute you if they figure out what you’ve done. They’ve already killed doctors who didn’t follow orders. For far lesser offenses than you’ve already committed.”
“You’re being melodramatic.”
“I’m being realistic,” she snapped back.
“Realistic? You? A woman who for months hid enemy soldiers inside a German hospital. A woman who’s gotten those same soldiers out of danger and back home with nothing more than some old clothes, hand drawn maps and the promises of people she’s never met.”
“I had a camera and was able to make real enough looking papers.”
“Far be it from me to forget about the camera, which I’m sure has been found along with any papers you had hidden in the hospital.”
“They would have to tear the place down to find all my hiding places,” she said with a snort.
Herman started to laugh. The sound grew until he was slapping his knee and wiping his eyes. “Good God, woman.” His laughter turned into mere chuckles. “You are the most brazen, daring, beautiful creature on this earth.”
“Brazen?” she said, aggrieved. “Beautiful? Bah, I’m much too old for that.”
“I beg to differ. I think you’re exactly the right age. A younger woman could not have accomplished all you’ve done. A younger woman wouldn’t have had your courage or fortitude.” He strode over to her and took her hands in his. “You, my dear wife-to-be, are amazing.”
For a moment Rose couldn’t think of a single thing to say. “You are mad to think we will get away with this.”
“I will take you many places, my dear, but Bedlam isn’t one of them.”
He only got this ridiculous when he was really tired. “Herman, when was the last time you slept?”
“Just now, upstairs.”
“Before that?”
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. “I’m not sure.”
“I’m very tired as well, but I promise to stay with your brother if you will get some rest.”
His eyebrows rose, shouting out questions without him having to say a word.
She rolled her eyes. “Several hours of consecutive sleep. And I will do the same when you’ve relieved me.”
“You’re quite right. We both need rest, but Rodney does need to be monitored.” He nodded. “I will inform the staff that my fiancée is in residence.”
She sighed. “If you insist.”
He smiled, a look so sinful she wondered why lightning didn’t strike him dead on the spot. He opened his mouth, but she put up a hand.
“Don’t say it.”
“Say what?”
“Whatever nonsense you were going to say.”
Chapter Seven
He laughed, a delighted sound, and she discovered in herself a desire to hear that sound every day for the rest of her life. “My dear girl, you know me so well already.”
“Ha. If I knew you so well, I would have anticipated your noble plan to sacrifice yourself and marry me.”
He tilted his head to one side. “Would you have done something to stop me, if you had?”
“I would have tried.”
“Why?” His mouth turned down at the corners. “I thought you liked me well enough.”
“I do. You are everything there is to admire in a man. You’re honourable, kind, generous, a skilled healer and a true gentleman.”
“But?”
“But you should not have felt it necessary to sacrifice yourself to marry me.”
His frown turned stern. “That’s twice you’ve used the word sacrifice in reference to our marriage, and I’ll not have you thinking that way.”
“I’ll think any way I li—”
He cut her off by kissing her. When he finally let her go he said, “I find I’m not feeling like that much of a gentleman.” He took her face in his hands. “You are precious, so very precious to me. Please, I beg you, don’t speak of yourself like that again.”
She put her hands over his. “I don’t know what I’ve done to earn this regard you have for me. I have no rank or station, and I’m far too old to believe in stories of love and happily ever after.”
“Rose, I—”
“No, no, let me finish.” She breathed deep. “I...I admire you greatly, and it’s because of that that I ask you to reconsider this plan to marry. I could masquerade as any member of your household. I don’t have to be your wife.”
“You’re forgetting one important fact.”
“What’s that?”
“A poor rector can only afford a wife—and not easily.”
“An annulment then. When we reach safety.”
He paused, his head tilted in thought “Yes, that might suit. But, Rose, you have to think of yourself—and behave—as a married woman. We have to make people believe it or questions will be asked. Questions are dangerous. Can you do that?”
“Yes, it’s just...”
“Stop thinking.” He leaned forward, his head coming down, and she closed her eyes for his kiss. “Good night.”
Her eyes opened to see him turn and stride from the room. Rose sat near Rodney’s bed and watched him silently for several minutes. His older brother was a complicated man. A man with deep convictions. A man who she’d forced into choosing one duty over another.
She had put him in an untenable situation and he’d chosen the least objectionable course of action. No matter how he tried to explain away his marriage proposal, the real reason came down to an honourable man continuing to do his duty as he saw it.
Duty.
How well she understood it. Duty ruled her entire life. Once, it had been both a joy and a privilege. The war changed all that. Duty had led her to put her safety into chance’s hands. Into the hands of men whose own duty conflicted with hers.
The one thing she never wanted to do was jeopardize another life. But she had. Herman had come to her rescue and as a result, she’d put his entire family in jeopardy.
They were in danger because of her. She, therefore, was the only person who could rectify the situation.
Her decision made, Rose felt as if she could stay awake for a week. She might need to.
She checked Rodney, felt his face and neck. His fever seemed no better, but he did appear to have fallen into a deeper sleep. A great healer, sleep.
She stepped out of the room and smelled baking bread on the air. She followed her nose and discovered the kitchen, where Nan was frying eggs.
“Good morning, miss.”
“Good morning. Rodney needs something nutritious and liquid in his belly. I wonder if perhaps you had any soup broth?”
“No, miss, but I have a few chicken bones I could cook up.”
“Oh, yes, exactly the thing. Just broth mind you, I don’t think he’ll be well enough for anything else for a while yet.”
“Very good, miss. I’ll start that right away.” Nan smiled. “Can I get you some breakfast?”
“I would love some.” If she was going to run, doing it on a full stomach would be best. “I haven’t had an egg in an age.”
“And some fresh bread?”
“I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
“Shall I bring it to Mr. Rodney’s room?”