14. ~ Back in Time ~

CHAPTER 14

Breamore, The New Forest, England, 1915

The news that Father would soon be home infused me with a vitality I almost forgot existed. Amid the suffering of the world, it was only natural to be on edge—especially when my father, General Marcus Contini, led the British army.

Britain entered the Great War in August of last year, honoring its treaty to protect Belgium after Germany marched into its territory. Soon after, my father insisted I come home from India, where I'd spent several months teaching children English and art. I adored and missed my students dearly. Their goodness and zeal for life brought light to a darkening world. And just now, Germany had launched a new, savage means of warfare directed at killing civilians. Two German zeppelins had dropped bombs on the eastern coast of England, spreading horror throughout the peaceful region. And with Britain's recent announcement of a blockade of the German ports, the chaos reached the point of no return.

Father spent most of his days away from home, leaving me under the care of the housekeeper, Mary Allerton, in the New Forest. For thousands of years, the forest had witnessed births, extinctions, invasions, wars, royalty, ghosts, witches, and snake catchers. But mostly, it remained a haven from the large-scale destruction going on in the world, and our family enjoyed it for generations.

In 1894, my mother passed away giving birth to me and my twin brother, Lucca. Lucca and I had been like two sides of a coin. More than a brother, he was my best friend, protector, and guiding light. Heart-wrenchingly, just two years ago, the enemy ambushed his troop and killed him. His premature departure left me feeling lost, like a kite without a string. I couldn't even look at myself in the mirror without seeing Lucca's reflection—thin face, brown eyes, and bright smile.

Mrs. Allerton had been my guardian angel during those dark days. Without her love, my despair would have consumed me. Yet life went on, and I learned to move on, too, never forgetting but always hoping for a better future.

I caught sight of Mrs. Allerton through the library window, her white hair, as always, pulled into a bun, her spectacles sparkling in the sunlight. She expressed herself with vigorous gestures as she instructed the gardener, Ames Leroy—a short French fellow who had worked for our family since I could remember. He had often threatened to leave Forti Radici because of Mrs. Allerton's obsessive ideas about how he should do his job, arguing that because the garden was his chef d'oeuvre, he should make the decisions regarding the grounds. "Maybe they fight because they like each other," Lucca once suggested.

Exiting through the side door, I felt the warmth of the spring day and a sense that my immediate future would be exhilarating.

"You should trim it back, thin it out," Mrs. Allerton insisted, referring to the hydrangea vines that climbed the side of the manor.

"They provide shade and beauty to the walls. I'm not going to cut them down. It took years to grow them!" Mr. Leroy snapped, his indignation making his accent heavier than usual.

"All they do is house spiders," she snapped back.

"Don't worry about that. I'll treat them for crawlers," he said.

"For goodness' sake, Mr. Leroy. Trim them back!" Mrs. Allerton demanded, placing her hands on her hips in irritation.

"Femme folles!" he muttered in French.

I cleared my throat to announce my presence. Mrs. Allerton waved her hand as if saying, "Not now," and their quarrel continued.

"My father is coming home!" I exclaimed over their voices.

Mr. Leroy turned, forcing Mrs. Allerton to do likewise. "Mademoiselle." He doffed his cap, briefly showing his gray hair. "That's good news."

"Indeed, it is. This letter came in the morning post."

Mrs. Allerton took it from me and scanned it hastily. "Oh my, it's true. General Contini is coming home." Her voice filled with delight. "We must prepare for his arrival."

Mr. Leroy sought the chance to get the pruners away from the vines. "I'll start working on the front gardens. Good day." He hurried away before Mrs. Allerton could object.

I retrieved the letter from Mrs. Allerton and retraced my steps.

She hustled to catch up. "Florence, wait! Did he say he's bringing company?"

"Some lieutenant or other." My father routinely traveled with groups of soldiers, and I often wished I could have him to myself for a bit. Instead, he was sure to spend his visit holed up, poring over maps and talking strategy with his men.

"Let me see the letter again," she asked breathlessly. "Yes, oh, yes. Lieutenant General Sterling. I've heard of him. Isn't he second in command?"

I shrugged. "Doesn't make any difference to me. One more dusty comrade coming our way."

"We must air out and dust the rooms," she started, then rehearsed a long list of unnecessary chores. She took pride in caring for the manor. The place would be cleaned from top to bottom, spotless in no time.

I couldn't help but say, "Don't you think you are exaggerating a little?"

"Nonsense! There is much to do." Her walk almost turned into a trot.

From the garden, I could see two military vehicles on the horizon. Father is home. I raced across the property, but the road seemed so far away. I couldn't wait to be in the security of his company, to hear his voice. I had missed him so much. I entered the field, and my father spotted me. The truck slowed, and he jumped out, a soldier following behind.

Then, suddenly, I was in his embrace, and it felt like I had come home. I closed my eyes and reveled in the scent of tobacco and fresh air that accompanied him; in the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath my ear; and in the happy rumble of his laughter.

"Father, I have missed you so much."

"My precious daughter. I'm so happy to see you." He squeezed me tightly against his chest.

"I can't believe you are home." I kissed his cheek, grateful he was the same—his limbs still attached. Even his brown mustache remained intact, making his face look as square and stern as always. In the army, men knew him for his strict leadership and discipline, but even more so for his distinct mustache.

"It's wonderful to be back." Longing laced his voice, his gaze going to the manor in the distance. "Hopefully, I can stay for a while."

The soldier who had trailed behind him reached us.

"Florence, this is Lieutenant General Alexander Sterling," Father introduced.

In the peacefulness of the green field under the day's diffused light, I saw Alexander Sterling for the first time. This is Lieutenant General Sterling? The shocking difference between what I had imagined and his appearance made me freeze. He was young, very young. Dressed in a navy uniform, pockets full of honorary decorations, General Sterling stood over six feet tall. His broad shoulders and thin hips accentuated his perfect posture. His blue eyes complemented his fair skin and dark hair.

Our gazes connected, and I found myself lost in a whirl of physical and emotional attraction. I had never seen a man so—I tried to avoid the word, but it came all the same—good-looking.

"Alexander, my daughter, Florence."

"My lady, it is a pleasure to meet you." The lieutenant held my hand longer than needed, his eyes sweeping over me as thoroughly as he might survey an enemy threshold. I pulled my hand away, hoping to conceal that my heartbeat struggled to slow down, and it had little to do with my run across the field.

"Welcome to Forti Radici, Lieutenant," I said.

As we headed to the manor, Father offered me his arm and spoke about his journey. Occasionally, I nodded to signal my attention, but Lieutenant Sterling had stolen my focus. I did my best not to look at him but failed miserably. And I soon realized he was aware of, and enjoyed, my scrutiny. My gaze fell to the wild grass, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Being the child of General Marcus Contini had its implications. Men gravitated to me not because of my intelligence or looks but because of my father's rank. To protect my name and weed out the riffraff who chased money and prestige, I remained constantly alert. Would I ever find someone who loved me for who I was? Since my hopes were at their lowest point, I told myself to reign in the attraction and tread lightly with the new soldier.

"Mrs. Allerton, always so efficient," my father observed as we entered the garden. "Although this is totally unnecessary." Lowering his voice, he added, "I forget how many times I've told her as much."

The staff formed a line near the entrance. The military trucks were already parked, and the soldiers waited close by, stretching their legs after the long ride.

Father first greeted Mrs. Allerton, then Mr. Leroy, then Mr. Lewis, the chauffeur, followed by the rest of the staff, including Mr. Grant, the cook, and Lucy, his assistant. In turn, Father introduced the group of twenty soldiers.

"Oh, General Sterling," said Mrs. Allerton, sending a knowing look my way. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine, ma'am."

"You are awfully young to be a lieutenant general," she noted.

"I'll take that as a compliment." His face lit up with the most breathtaking smile I had ever seen.

I had no desire to be a fool, but something about him, something I hadn't encountered with other men, drew me to him. I had to take control. Stop looking at him!

"I'm sure your wife is quite proud of your career," Mrs. Allerton continued to obtain information—on my behalf, I feared. Knowing of my disappointment with the opposite sex, she had it taken upon herself to find me a suitable match. And if she decided the lieutenant met the requirements, she would do everything she could to get us together.

Did he have a wife? I didn't like the idea.

"My parents are happy for me. I'm not married . . . yet."

"Engaged, then?" Mrs. Allerton pressed.

"No, not engaged either." He glanced at me.

"How is that possible?" Mrs. Allerton sounded alarmed about his misfortune, but I knew she rejoiced inwardly.

"Mrs. Allerton," my father said, his interruption a relief. "My men could use a drink."

"Of course, General." Mrs. Allerton guided the company inside.

Tucking me under his arm, Father lingered outside to converse with Mr. Lewis about Silver—a 1910 Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost both men were in love with. Unlike other automobiles on the road, which looked like horseless carriages, the Silver Ghost represented breakthrough technology. Equipped with a six-cylinder engine, three-speed manual gearbox, and rear-wheel drum brakes, it could reach over twenty miles per hour on a good road, making it the most luxurious car ever.

"We'll have to take it for a ride tomorrow," Father told Mr. Lewis.

"Yes, sir, first thing in the morning."

Determined to forget about the lieutenant's magnetism before the call to dinner, I plopped onto my four-poster bed with my favorite novel, Jane Eyre. I soon lost myself in Thornfield Hall, a rather neglected place with a haunting, mysterious owner, but the distraction didn't last. I put the book down and listened to the chattering outside my door. Since only I stayed in this wing, it was odd. Then, Father's request to prepare an upper room for the lieutenant hit me like a splash of cold water in the face. Surely he'd stay on the opposite side, away from me.

I burst into the corridor and saw Mrs. Allerton near Lucca's bedroom, giving instructions to Sarah, a woman who knew how to get things done. They grew silent when they saw me. Mr. Lewis emerged from the top landing carrying a pair of military bags. Instead of turning right, he approached the housekeeper and placed the luggage near her feet. "Anything else?" he asked.

"That'll be all. Thank you, Mr. Lewis," Mrs. Allerton responded.

"What's going on?" I narrowed my eyes at her.

"Nothing, dear." The studied calm in her voice belied her.

"Why are these bags here?"

"What?" Mrs. Allerton rubbed her hands nervously.

I kicked one of the green sacks. "Whose are these?"

"They are mine." Of course, it had to be him. His voice came loud and clear as he passed Mr. Lewis.

I gave Mrs. Allerton a piercing stare. She was a traitor, and she knew it. Lucca's bedroom had become a shrine to his memory, a place I could remember him through his belongings and lingering smell. Someone invading his privacy in this manner shocked me. Neither could I have anticipated how wrong it felt.

"Why are they in this wing?" I turned to face the lieutenant general, feeling my temper rise.

"Your father said I should stay in this room," he responded, his tone serene but determined.

"That's General Contini to you, Lieutenant," I said sternly. "And there must be a mistake. My brother's bedroom is off-limits."

"I'll go speak to the general." Mrs. Allerton took the easiest way out. The whole thing was ridiculous. She was well aware that there were plenty of nice rooms available.

"Yes, you go do that!" I fumed.

Mrs. Allerton moved away with urgency. Sarah seized the chance to avoid the line of fire and followed her downstairs.

The lieutenant gave me a crooked smile. "Why the unnecessary fuss, miss? It's just a room."

"It's not just a room, and you can't stay in it!"

He inched closer and held my gaze. "Would you rather I stay in yours?"

His audacity rendered me speechless. Surely, plenty of girls would have answered yes, but not me. Regrouping, I mocked, "Wouldn't you like that?"

"I'll take that as a no." With a laugh, he picked up the bags. "Well, lady, orders are orders, and I wouldn't dare to disobey General Contini's. So, if you'll excuse me." He walked into Lucca's room. I was about to follow and throw him out, but he swiftly shut the door and secured the lock.

His arrogance unnerved me. He had to be removed from the quarters at once. I stormed down the stairs and stomped into my father's office.

"Why?"

"Sit down, Florence. Please." Father pointed to a chair. He had expected my reaction.

"Do you know how much this hurts? How could you?"

"Before you jump to conclusions, let me explain."

I sat down with a groan.

Father pulled up a chair next to mine. "When your brother passed away, part of me died with him. Besides losing your mother, losing Lucca was the hardest thing I ever endured. I see people die all the time, Florence. I see families grieving their dead almost daily. But it wasn't until I lost my son that I understood."

"Father, I know." His words painfully reminded me of my feelings.

"General Sterling came under my command soon after we lost Lucca. He is an amazing man. I can't tell you how much his support and help have comforted me."

"He can never replace Lucca."

"Of course not. No one could ever take your brother's place. But that doesn't mean others can't be as good as Lucca." Seeing the stubbornness in my countenance, he pleaded—something he wasn't accustomed to—but a great general knew which weapons to utilize. "Florence, listen to me."

I sighed and averted my eyes but listened.

"General Sterling has saved my life more than once during combat. He even took a bullet for me. When I saw him fall to the ground, bathed in blood, the first thing that crossed my mind was that he was someone's son, someone who would grieve his loss as much as I have grieved Lucca's. I still don't understand how he survived. The bullet barely missed his heart. But what I know with certainty is that without his loyalty, I would be buried next to your brother. I owe Lieutenant Sterling my life. He is not afraid to die for others. Do you know how few men are like that? How few are born fearless? That's one of the reasons he is the youngest soldier to have achieved the rank of lieutenant general in this country."

As my father spoke, my frustration turned into gratitude to have him here, alive. "I'm terrified you won't return one of these days. Why haven't you told me this before?"

Father ran his fingers through his mustache, something he did when nervous. "I couldn't. It would have only made you restless when I was gone."

"I'm already restless. I hardly sleep anymore. Will this nightmare ever end?"

"Sooner or later. But for now, we must enjoy the time we have together."

"I still don't understand why he has to stay in Lucca's room." I rested my head on his shoulder.

"Apart from yours, your brother's room is the nicest in the manor. You know that." He was ahead of the discussion again. The room was a hidden paradise, with luxurious furniture resting on thick Arabian rugs, a fireplace, a powder room, a sitting area, and the best view of the gardens.

"Yes, but the lieutenant probably won't know the difference." His arrogance was a fresh wound to my ego.

"I'm sure he would've been happy anywhere in the house, even in the stables, but I wouldn't be happy with that. He deserves the best."

I was smart enough to know I'd lost this battle. Still, listening to Father's feelings, and agreeing to the accommodations, didn't mean I'd abide the lieutenant's brashness. "Well then. I won't say another word about it."

"Thank you, Florence." My father helped me to my feet and enveloped me in his arms.

I pursed my lips, but the words still came out. "It doesn't mean I like it. I would gladly give him one of the stalls in the stable."

Father laughed.