Feeling a bit braver, I turned my gaze back toward Stefan to assess his agreeability in the matter. “Would that be to your liking?” A cheeky but admirable smile brightened his face.
“I could use the peace and quiet,” he admitted. “It’s difficult to rest in a hospital.” He glanced at his father. “Take no offense, Father.”
“Frankly, I heartily agree recuperating in a hospital setting is far more challenging,” he concurred with a wry grin.
It had been the first time I had witnessed Martin smile over anything since his arrival. As he gazed at his son, the twinkle in his eye spoke of their commendable bond. I found it difficult not to admire Stefan’s physical qualities with his wavy, dark blond hair. I wondered if he and Celia had inherited their curls from their mother as one stray lock dangled on his forehead. A fair complexion accented his bright blue eyes that shimmered like the ocean waves in spite of the darkness beneath them. It was impossible not to find him physically attractive.
Perhaps I had been far too lonely with Benedict’s departure, which accounted for the giddiness of heart. A desire for his companionship tempted me, confirming my need for attention. Instead of being twenty years my senior, we appeared the same age. When my thoughts indecently wandered, I checked my wild emotions with more pressing matters.
“I will speak to our butler, Carter, to have the cottage readied while we are having a leisurely dinner. They can stock some food to your liking and make sure clean linens and towels are at your disposal.”
“You needn’t go to too much trouble. I’m sure that I will find the accommodations comfortable.”
“I do apologize it has no electric lights, but it does have running water and an indoor toilet.” Rather than appearing pleased, he looked slightly distressed over the situation. “Please, as long as you are at Stratton Park, you are our guest.”
“Well, come in and at least have dinner first,” suggested Florence. “We already have an extra table setting.”
Gretta and Hugo descended the staircase to join us for the evening meal. Not far behind them, Celia came bouncing down at full speed nearly knocking over the elderly couple to get to her brother.
“Stefan!” Her high-pitched screech echoed off the foyer walls.
“Celia!”
The two of them embraced with such enthusiasm that I giggled at their antics. Florence scowled at her exuberant entrance.
“Oh, Stefan, you are home,” she cried, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her head in his chest.
“Celia hasn’t seen her brother since he left months ago,” Doctor Reyer remarked. “I wouldn’t let her see him in the hospital because as you know she is fond of him and the sight of his wounds would have been most upsetting.”
“Oh, Stefan, I’m so glad you are back.” She stepped away from him and eyed him up and down. “Papa said you were hurt.” Celia scowled at the cane. “Are you almost all better now?”
“Yes, Celia, much better. The cane helps steady my walk because my leg is still regaining strength.”
“Oh, what did those mean Germans do to you?” she bellowed, stomping her foot. “You should go back and kill them all.”
“Celia, dinner is ready,” her father interjected. “And young lady, you shouldn’t say such things.”
“But why, Papa? Don’t you want us to win the war?”
“Of course I do, but it’s not polite to wish others death.”
Thankfully, the Smits interjected, steering the conversation elsewhere.
“Stefan, I presume,” Hugo said. “Welcome, lad. Your father has spoken of your bravery in the field.” He reached out and gave him a hearty handshake.
“Pleasure to meet you, sir.” Stefan politely nodded. “And this must be your wife, Gretta. Father tells me she is talented when it comes to pastries.”
Gretta grinned in return. “And I shall make whatever you like, young man. Tell me your favorite treat, and it’s yours.”
Stefan patted his stomach. “Not too many, I hope. I’ll gain too much weight and won’t be able to climb out of the trenches.”
Thinking he could use to put on a few pounds, I desperately wanted to change the subject. “Let us not speak of war. It only makes me think of death,” I spurted. “Dinner is ready, and we should focus on getting to know one another and building our acquaintances.” Florence gave me an agreeable glance. The constant reminder of the reality around the world disheartened us both.
“I agree,” Doctor Reyer added. “Let us break bread and remember the good times and speak of the peace that awaits us all.”
Upon that edict, we headed toward the dining room for food, drink, and good company. Before I sat down, I approached Carter and gave him instructions to have the staff ready the cottage for Stefan with linens and towels. I wanted to make sure he had ample wood for a fire should it get chilly at night and plenty of oil lamps and candles for his use.
My eyes drifted over to Stefan, who appeared to have some trouble getting comfortable in his chair. His stiff leg made it awkward, and he kept his cane nearby. I wondered about his injury and how it happened, feeling sad he had endured the pain.
In the short few minutes I had come to be in his presence, I formed an agreeable opinion about his personality. Perhaps we would develop a friendship of sorts during his stay. Companionship with someone closer to my age would alleviate my doldrums.
At last, I sat down at the table and glanced around. The heartwarming sight filled me with deep peace. Florence and I had performed a good deed. We brought needy people into our home and used it for a worthy cause as Benedict had suggested.
Chapter Six
Cozy Cottage
After dinner, I desperately wanted to accompany the lieutenant to the cottage. My eagerness to become better acquainted would take over my good senses if I didn’t control the urge in Florence’s presence. Instead, I asked Carter to have the driver take him and help the lieutenant get settled for a restful night. Doctor Reyer accompanied the two, no doubt to check on the accommodations. Upon his return, he joined us in the parlor, expressing his thankfulness.
“The lodgings are most delightful. It will be a quiet respite for his further recuperation.” He sat down to join us for an after-dinner drink, which he had not done since his arrival.
“I’m glad to hear of it,” I responded. “He is more than welcome to rest as much as needed.”
“Do you anticipate that your son will have a full recovery?”
Florence’s bad-mannered prying question astonished me. My opinion had always been a person’s health affairs were not for discussion like idle chitchat. Martin glanced at her with a raised brow, indicating he too thought it a bit forward.
“Eventually,” he replied. His lungs expelled a worrisome sigh. “A bullet fractured his tibia during battle.”
The scene played through my mind as if I were watching it like a picture show. I imagined the lieutenant running toward the enemy amidst a blast of gunfire, smoke, and death that must have surrounded him. Had he been brave or afraid?
“Another bullet entered his right shoulder, which we removed in surgery.”
“Oh, dear gracious,” I responded. “How was he able to get help after being wounded?” The horrified vision of Stefan face down on the battlefield sent a chill through my spine.
“A comrade-in-arms pulled him out of the line of fire.” Doctor Reyer hesitated and furrowed his brow. “After the heroic deed, the soldier who saved my son had been gunned down only minutes later by a German machine gun.”
Utterly disturbed, I closed my eyes to take in a deep breath.
“Such horrors.” Florence groaned, her voice trembling. “I cannot help but wonder what my dear son is enduring even as we speak.”
A lump formed in my throat while asking what I feared. “If Stefan...” I halted in my familiarity. “Forgive me. When Lieutenant Reyer does recover, will he return to the front again?”
“He was part of the Belgian carabineers that defended Liege.
If he does not regain the full use of his leg again, then I doubt he shall return.”
“Perhaps that is for the best,” Florence interjected. “Then your worry whether he lives or dies in the conflict will have ended.”
She glanced at me with a troublesome look. Perhaps I should have agreed with her worry about Benedict but restrained my thoughts.
“Do you mind if I peruse your library and choose a few books for Stefan?” Doctor Reyer asked me directly. Thankful he had changed the subject, I readily replied.
“No, of course not. Benedict has an excellent library, and I’m sure he would want us to share.”
“Very well then,” he said, rising to his feet. “Would one of your staff be so kind as to take them to the cottage tomorrow?”
Without a second’s hesitancy regarding thought or propriety, I volunteered. “No need. I will be more than happy to deliver the books.” Pausing shortly, I glanced at Florence adding more reason behind my eager reply to assist. “As host too, I wish to make sure he has everything he needs.”
“Much obliged.”
Doctor Reyer took the last sip of his port when unexpectedly Florence rose to her feet and approached him. “Let me show you to the library,” she said, reaching out to his forearm. “I am more familiar with its contents and can recommend books based on your son’s interest.”
Her shrewd move and a twinkle in her eye gave away an interest I never considered a possibility. Had she hoped to attach herself to Doctor Reyer or had Florence, like me, merely unveiled her loneliness for male companionship? My mouth parted in astonishment when they exited the parlor and strode together side by side.
OUR DRIVER BROUGHT me by motorcar to the cottage, and I instructed him to wait until I finished my call. The short visitation afforded me an opportunity to interact with the lieutenant, but I knew with sporadic interactions, forging a friendship would be difficult.
As I hugged a varied selection of books in my arms, tied together with a string, I walked to the door with anticipation in my step. Stefan’s father had chosen Moby Dick, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, and Journey to the Center of the Earth. Benedict had a ferocious reading habit, and choices were plentiful while I, on the other hand, occasionally read books of poetry. The library overflowed with fiction selections from a variety of worldwide renowned authors along with the usual reference volumes and atlases. I wondered if Stefan was an avid reader even in the English language.
My fist balled, and I rapped my knuckles against the door. At first glance of my surroundings, I had forgotten about the rustic quaintness of the location. A large wooded area shaded the back of the building while the front porch gave a panoramic view of the hilly countryside. We were fortunate to have a large herd of roe deer though I didn’t see any as I scanned the scenery. While inhaling a deep breath to enjoy the smell of the pine forest nearby, Stefan’s voice called from behind the closed door.
“Who is it?”
“Lady Grace. I’ve come bringing gifts from your father and our household, Lieutenant.” He didn’t reply immediately, which spurred me to explain myself further. “If this is not a convenient time, I can come back later.”
A few seconds later, he unlocked the door, which I thought a bit strange that he had seen it necessary to barricade himself in for the night. I wondered if the fears of war lingered in his mind even though he was back on safe soil. When he opened it just a crack, I gave it a slight push with the palm of my hand. Stefan stood nervously fiddling with the buttons on his shirt, struggling to cover his naked upper torso. My eyes watched him close the gaping view of his bare chest. The sight caught me off guard, and I felt the heat of a blush crawl up my neck.
“Oh, excuse me,” I said, swinging around and turning my back toward him. My heart burst into a frenzied beat, pounding in my chest while I waited.
After a few more seconds, he spoke. “You can turn around now.” A soft chuckle left his throat. “I wasn’t expecting company, I’m afraid, and have been walking around not dressed like a gentleman.”
When I spun around, a cheeky smile spread across my face. Brazenly I stepped farther inside and closed the door behind me. Immediately I noticed the closed curtains, which created a gloomy interior.
“It’s a sunny day,” I announced. “Do you mind, Lieutenant, if I let the sunshine in?”
“No, please do. I’ve just kept them shut since I was in an unfit state to be seen.” He glanced at my arms clutching the books and the basket of food dangling in the other. “Here, let me help you with those.” Limping forward, he took them both and set them down on the table.
It had been some time since I had entered this cottage with Benedict as we rarely had cause to visit. Walking toward the window by the kitchen area, I pulled back the curtains, and a burst of light filled the interior. The front window that looked out over the porch and expansive landscape hid the scenery. With a pull of the drapery cord, it opened bringing in additional illumination.
“There, that’s much better.” When I turned around, Stefan stood over the books, reading the titles. “Your father chose those for you from our library. He thought they would keep you occupied during your recovery.”
“He knows my interests,” he nodded. “Did your husband read these?”
“Oh yes, he’s quite the fan of Conan Doyle and Jules Verne. If it’s not a good murder mystery, then he turns to new fiction with tall tales of other worlds,” I replied, picking up Moby Dick and holding it. “I’m not sure what this one is all about.”
“Moby Dick?” Stefan cocked his head at me in surprise. “Have you not read it?”
“Well, no,” I quipped, feeling a bit defensive in my response. “It’s not exactly a book to keep a lady’s fancy, I would think. After all, whales and seafaring stories are a far cry from Jane Austen or the works of Charlotte Brontë.”
“Ah, then you do know something about it.” Stefan grinned. “What do you like to read?”
“Poetry once in a while, but I’m not too keen on spending hours with my nose buried in a book, I’m afraid.” Wishing to change the subject, I turned his attention to the basket. “I brought you a few pastries at the insistence of Mrs. Smit. She’s been baking every day since her arrival. There are some apples, a chunk of cheese, a few hard-boiled eggs, and a fresh loaf of bread from the kitchen, compliments of our cook.”
“Thank you for your thoughtfulness, Lady Grace.”
“Are you finding your accommodations comfortable?” For some odd reason I walked over to the bedroom door and peeked inside the room. His bed lay in disarray with covers strewn in a pile as well as his clothes on the floor. Surprised at the mess, I offered help. “I’ll have one of our maids visit daily to do housekeeping chores for you. What would be a good time to find you fully clothed?” I cast a playful glance his way and smirked.
“Probably early afternoon,” he responded. “You can usually find me buttoned up by then.”
After glancing around the interior once more, I took a hesitant step toward the door. “Please dine with us at the main house during the evening, Lieutenant. It is not my wish you become a hermit in these quarters but that you also become part of our family during your stay at Stratton Park.”
“Of course. I look forward to the company,” he replied. He flashed a broad grin. “And it’s perfectly acceptable if you call me Stefan in place of Lieutenant.”
Stefan leaned on his cane and took a step toward me. His nearness sent a pulsating surge of excitement through my body. “Car— The car.” I stuttered. “I will have our driver pick you up at six o’clock if that is convenient.”
“Yes, that will do.” His blue eyes radiated thankfulness, and I inhaled a sharp breath to control what I feared my gaze displayed in return.
“Well, I shall bid you a good day.” He grabbed the doorknob, opening the entry for me. My driver stood by the car, appearing a bit anxious. It suddenly dawned on me that my behavior in shutting myself behind a closed door with a total stranger might seem indecent.
“Goodbye, Lady Grace. I look forward to seeing you again this evening.” His kind voice drew my attention back to him for a brief moment. When our eyes met for the last time, he grinned mischievously. “We can have a good discussion regarding Moby Dick after dinner.”
After scowling at him in return, I responded, “Whales. What lady cares about whales?” A slight sprint entered my step as I headed for the car. “Back to the main house,” I ordered, climbing inside. When I glanced at the cottage, Stefan stood in the doorway with a forlorn look of abandonment on his face. My arms tingled to offer him a comforting embrace. When the urge subsided, I exhaled a puff of air, wondering what in the world had become of my self-control.
Chapter Seven
Physical and Emotional Pain
Celia stood on the threshold of the open door. Occasionally she jumped up and down in the same spot like an impatient flea. Her curls bounced wildly, straining the pink ribbon that held them in place.
“Why is it taking so long?” she grumbled. “I want to see Stefan.”
Amused at her antics, I walked up beside her and noticed her hair was about to burst in every direction from the failing band.
“Soon.” Shaking my head, I put my hands on her shoulders. “Stay still for just a moment, Celia. All your movement has loosened the ribbon, and it’s about to fall off.”
“All right.” She puffed. Her face turned downward.
“Good girl.” As I struggled to gather her hair again without a brush in hand, I admired the fondness Celia held for her brother. Honestly, I hadn’t been that excited about my siblings growing up.
“You certainly adore your brother. Have you always felt this way?” After pulling the ribbon tight and tying a double knot to keep it in place, she bubbled forth her answer.
“Always,” she replied, smiling from ear to ear. “He’s the dearest brother anyone could ever have.”
Ladies of Disgrace Box Set Page 17