21. ~ Standing Still ~

CHAPTER 21

For a long while, I stared out the window, watching the gentle breeze blow through the trees. My eyes wandered from the sunset to the sliver of blue sea in the distance. My heart ached. It had only been a day, but the void Alex left ate at me, consuming my thoughts and energy.

"Good evening, Florence. I need to speak to you," Thomas called from the ground.

"I'll be right down." Dreading what he had to say, I climbed down the ladder and invited him inside.

He looked pale and unlike his calm self. Fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt, he said, "Please, Florence, have a seat."

"What's wrong? Is it Alex?"

"No." Thomas settled across from me. "I'm sorry to be the bearer of such terrible news. They found your father's body in the woods north of the manor."

Thick silence encircled us, and time stood still, my thoughts and feelings suspended as I grappled with the surreal news.

"Florence, breathe." Thomas slid his chair closer. "You look like you are going to pass out."

I inhaled and exhaled in a concerted effort, but each breath drew more than it gave, leaving me more faint by the second. "What about Mrs. Allerton?"

"They found her, too, along with Mr. Leroy. The priest identified their bodies." Thomas reached for my hand.

His warm touch confirmed this was worse than a nightmare. It was a reality from which I couldn't wake up. "Tell me all you know." My words came out broken but determined.

"Are you sure you want to know?"

"Sooner or later, I have to know."

"Later might be better."

"Please, Thomas."

His gaze dropped to the floor as he spoke. "They found General Contini concealed in a thicket, shot several times. No one could've survived that. My guess is that someone pulled him to safety after he went down."

"And Mrs. Allerton and Mr. Leroy?"

"They were shot in an underground tunnel. I'm so sorry."

"The tunnel . . ." I imagined my dear Mrs. Allerton and Mr. Leroy being chased like animals. In my mind's eye, I saw their desperation to move faster, their assassins gaining on them. I could see Mrs. Allerton being struck by a bullet and collapsing to the ground, Mr. Leroy trying in vain to help her, and, finally, bravely dying by her side. He wouldn't have left her behind.

Like a shroud, grief enveloped my soul and shattered my heart. My shoulders slumped forward, my head fell into my hands, and I wept. The agony carried with each sob echoed throughout the cabin like a haunted soul unable to flee. Yes, I had to be strong and hold on to hope—hope that I would be with them again in the afterlife. Father would expect that much from me. Howbeit, it would take time—time to forget and forgive, time to heal.

"They were great people. They'll live in our hearts forever." Thomas knelt in front of me, and I fell into his arms.

I wasn't sure how to describe it, but I felt strength in his sincere desire to help—as if, for that instant, he carried part of my agony. I held on to him, to the feeling of being rescued from a free fall.

When I shed the last tear, I felt lighter in body and spirit. Thomas released me, and I looked at my bracelet, remembering Mrs. Allerton's final words. "Don't you ever forget who you are and how much we love you."

"It's late." Thomas rose, and before darkness engulfed the cottage, he lit the lamp. "If you need me, you know where to find me."

I watched him near the door, and the demons of fear and grief threatened to wreak havoc on me again. "Thomas, don't leave me. I can't face the night alone."

"I can't stay inside. General Sterling will shoot me or, worse, send me to the gallows. I have no choice. I better go."

Thomas was right. I couldn't ask this of him. Still, for the first time in my life, loneliness weighed heavily on my heart. My loved ones at the manor lay dead, and Alex remained far away. I quickly made up my mind. "You might not have a choice, but I do. I'll stay outside with you."

"You might regret it. It's not very comfortable."

"I'll manage." I followed him out with a blanket in hand.

On this clear summer night, the stars shone like glittering jewels, a stark contrast to the darkness of the woods.

"I'll stand guard tonight." Thomas dismissed the soldier, taking his post under a giant sequoia.

I secured the blanket around my shoulders and joined him, leaning against the tree trunk—its harshness instantly stabbing my back. No matter. It was better than the desolate indoors.

"Listen, Forti Radici is still in custody, but now that everyone is accounted for, I'm sure they'll release it to you." Thomas propped his gun on his lap.

"I can't face it just yet."

"We'll wait for General Sterling, then?"

"Yes."

"I sent a message to the priest," Thomas said tentatively. "I hope it's all right."

I nodded, encouraging him to go on.

"He'll keep the bodies in the mausoleum until the funeral. He'll also notify Mrs. Allerton and Mr. Leroy's families."

"Thank you." The bodies. I pushed the image away. "I don't have the heart to think about those things right now."

When morning came, Thomas suggested we go to the beach. The sea was eerily calm except for a few roseate terns gliding above its tranquil surface—so free, so uncaring about the world's troubles.

"Which one would you like to read first?" Thomas kneeled on the sand, holding up two books he had brought from the fortress.

I took the one titled As You Slept, but the words on the pages blurred, and my attention wandered.

"I wish I would've met you before you met General Sterling," Thomas suddenly said, flipping through the pages of his novel.

"Why do you say that?" My gaze darted to him.

"Because I feel like an intruder in your life."

I didn't know where he was headed with the conversation, but I feared he liked me more than just a friend. I hadn't missed how he looked at me or avoided me now and then. If my suspicions were true, I had to be tactful. While I respected his feelings, there could never be anything between us other than friendship, and his friendship meant the world to me. "An intruder? Do you realize that if it weren't for you, I would be dead?"

"I did my duty."

"Risking your life for the safety of others is more than doing your duty. It's a noble deed." I made a mental note of how much my view of the world had changed since meeting Alex.

"Florence, I?—"

"Please, don't say anything. Just know I'll never forget what you've done for me."

Thomas's saddened eyes found the sea, and after a moment, he said, "He will come back, you know."

"What if he doesn't?"

"He will. General Sterling always makes good on his promises."

I observed the lighthouse in the distance. It reminded me of Alex's words before he left. "To me, you are what the lighthouse is to wandering vessels. I'll always look for you. I'll always come back to you." With a sigh, I switched the discussion back to Thomas. "What are you going to do when the war is over?"

"Take a long vacation."

"You know, if you haven't been in touch with Catherine, you should ring her. I'm sure she would love to hear from you."

"I think I will, but don't hold your breath. I hardly have time for a personal life, and I don't foresee a vacation in the near future."

"Do you think you'll stay in the army?"

"Yes. I like the discipline and the opportunity to serve our people." I sensed a profound patriotism in his statement. "Without people like us, more lives would be taken, not just those of young men but women and children. The cruelty would have no end." His words reminded me of the evil I witnessed in the forest.

"I wish it was different."

"So do I, Florence. So do I . . . in more than one way."

At Thomas's insistence, I accompanied him to the fortress. Though I had been hesitant to visit, in a strange way, I now wanted to be here. It was an illusion, I knew. But here, I felt closer to my father.

"Captain Frankfort, miss," an older soldier greeted in a somber voice as we passed him in the courtyard.

"Stand here, Florence," Thomas instructed excitedly. "Look across the yard to the far wall. What do you see?"

"Am I supposed to see something other than the wall?"

"Right in front of it."

"Wait—are you talking about the posts?"

"Yes, yes! Do you know what they are for?"

"Why would I know that?"

"It's a shooting range! The posts are the targets. The wall catches the missed bullets."

"Oh." I looked at him inquiringly. "What's exciting about that?"

"The officer in charge permitted me to teach you how to fire a rifle."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea." I was a terrible shooter. "I know how to use a pistol. That's more than enough."

"A pistol? In our current world, you won't get very far with a pistol. We are at war, Florence. You must know how to handle a rifle. Besides, it's for the sake of us all."

"This is a result of the other day, isn't it?"

The memory rolled through my head: Thomas handed me his rifle while he gathered firewood. A fast-approaching, thundering noise caught us off guard, and he instructed me to be ready to shoot. Fearing it might be a threat, he instinctually prepared for the worst and hoped for the best. My reflexes were too slow, and thankfully, the frightened horse ran past us by the time I lifted the weapon. But then the rifle fired, sending Thomas diving to the ground for cover. The earsplitting boom brought the soldiers from camp, frantically searching for us.

"Put it down!" Thomas yelled in distress. "You almost shot me!"

"I'm sorry. This thing is too heavy for me to handle."

"I noticed."

"Oh, thank heaven I didn't shoot the horse," I stammered, still shaken by the whole encounter.

"Better me than the horse, I see!" Thomas scoffed in disbelief. "And thank goodness it wasn't an enemy, or both might be dead."

We hadn't talked about the incident since it happened. Evidently, he had no intention of forgetting it.

"Truly, Florence, if you can't handle a rifle, you are pretty much defenseless," he now observed.

Unconvinced, I beheld the soldiers strolling about the courtyard. "Seriously, Thomas. I may manage to wound or kill several of them before I ever hit a post."

"Don't worry about them. As soon as you position yourself, they'll seek shelter." He smirked.

"All right, all right." I frowned. "If it makes you feel better and me less guilty about my clumsiness with the rifle the other night, I'll do it."

After a lengthy bit of instruction, Thomas helped me steady the rifle as it went off. Eventually, I withstood the blast without stumbling, although my shoulder burned. Then he taught me how to aim. I was amazed at how easy it was to miss and ever so grateful the wall took the brunt of my mistakes.

Night arrived, and I welcomed it, craving the relief of sleep. Though I did my best to stay busy and distract myself from thinking about my family and Alex, their absence was almost unbearable. Thomas's friendship was an anchor in the storm. And though I'd forever be indebted to his kindness, he could never fill the emptiness in my heart.

I lay in bed, suspended somewhere between sleep and being awake. My body went numb, but my mind wouldn't settle. What if Alex didn't come back? Had he succeeded in his mission? Should I go back to Forti Radici without him? Was I any more prepared to do so? What was happening with the war? I wrestled with the unanswered questions until I heard a muffled creaking. The door from below had been opened. I held my breath and listened closely.

There. Another creak. Then another.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and sat up. It was dark in the attic, but I could make out shapes. The noise came again. This time, it sounded rhythmic, purposeful. Footsteps. Someone moved about the cottage. The awareness came at once. I was trapped. The window was too high for an escape, and it faced south. The soldiers camped to the north. Yelling would be a disadvantage as it would warn the intruder, accelerating his purpose. Perhaps the intruder had killed the night guard.

My heart hammered against my rib cage so hard I thought it would break through it. I had to get to the rifle Thomas insisted I keep with me. It was visible against the wall a few paces away. But it might as well have been miles, because with every step I took, the floorboards groaned louder than ever. Whoever is here now knows I know.

I had one chance to do this right, for, no doubt, the intruder had no honorable intentions. Shrinking at the idea of shooting someone, I gripped the weapon and backed against the wall behind the floor opening, my fingers squeezing the forestock. One efficient blow should give me the needed advantage.

The ladder complained as a figure surfaced from the darkened hole. I froze in fear as the intruder turned toward me. I swung the rifle, but he intercepted it in midair.

"Whoa! Whoa!" He tried to yank the weapon out of my hands. "Florence! It's me!" The voice sounded familiar but faint amid the struggle. With one final pull, he took the rifle and sent me flying against the wall. Then he jumped onto the floor and grabbed my arms, holding me in place. "Florence, it's me." He spoke softly, soothingly.

Alex! In the moment it took to process it, I felt my heart might explode. I fell into his warmth and wept.

A new day spread over the forest, rays of light infiltrating the attic through the gaps in the wood. I opened my eyes. Alex lay beside me, facing the window. I shifted closer and squeezed my arm under his. It hadn't been a dream. He was here with me.

"You almost killed me last night," he whispered.

"Me? I don't think so. You almost killed me with fear."

"I was going to call up to you, but I wanted to surprise you." He rolled over, his blue eyes sparkled in the daylight.

"You did that, all right. You scared me stiff."

Alex chuckled.

When his voice died down, the words I had wanted to avoid a little longer stumbled out, "I know what happened at the manor. I know they are dead."

He rose on one elbow and looked at me with profound tenderness. "I wish I could make it all go away. I'm sorry I wasn't here when you got the news. I'm sorry I had to leave you. Forgive me. I had to."

"The abandonment was brutal, Lieutenant. Regardless of being the right thing or not, I will hold it against you," I said playfully, softening the soberness of the conversation.

"I know you will."

"I still can't believe you left me with a group of soldiers in charge."

"I left Captain Frankfort in charge."

"Same difference."

"Leaving you with Thomas wasn't an easy decision. He loves you." Alex's words carried an undeniable truth. "Because he would die for you, I knew you were safe with him. And I also knew I could trust him to be honorable."

"He is a good man and quite a protector." I felt no need to elaborate. Instead, I went on to the question that weighed on my mind. "Tell me. How was your mission?"

"Not too complicated."

"So there were complications?"

"When we disembarked, a vehicle from the French army picked up my men as a decoy. I took off on foot, dressed in civilian clothes, of course. But I knew from the minute I left the ship that someone pursued me."

Alex was here with me, safe and in one piece. Still, my heart raced at the story.

He continued. "I guided him to a deserted alley, where we worked it out."

"I'm glad your face is not bruised again." I brushed my fingers across his cheeks, noticing that even when there were no fresh wounds, the vestiges of the beating remained.

"I was sure lucky. I went on to deliver the documents and found out they'd also followed the car carrying my crew. They engaged in gunfire. One of my men lies in the hospital, recovering from a gunshot wound."

"I'm so glad no one died."

"Me too. It's a great relief. The mission was a success. Hopefully, the information will help stop the madness."

"Thomas told me a few things he heard at the fortress about the war, but it wasn't much."

"The conflict just got worse. We engaged in an offensive to relieve pressure on the French at Verdun, which neither your father nor I agreed with and hoped would never happen. It'll simply be another manslaughter and won't get us anywhere." Anger flashed in Alex's eyes. "We need to leave right away. I can only stay in Breamore for the funeral before moving to London. I'll be spending much of my time at headquarters. Now that those documents are safe, there will be many meetings to reevaluate our situation."

"Are you going to leave me at Forti Radici?"

"No, unless you want me to. My plan is for us to stay at my flat."

"The famous flat. I'll finally get to see it." I slipped off the bed and raised my arms over my head to stretch my back.

"Where is my lady going?"

"For a stroll. My muscles are ungiving."

"I can help with that." He pulled me back into the bed. "You know, now that I think about it, I will miss this place. The little time we spent here together was our time. Let's enjoy it a little longer." His fingers weaved through my hair, releasing the bun I'd made before going to sleep. "I love you." His voice trailed off, his lips gently trailing kisses down my neck.