The Solemn Bell(11)

She jumped and screamed. Something instinctual kicked in, and she bolted for the panel in the wall—the nearest point of egress—like a hare who’d narrowly missed a bullet. She fled in a blind panic, certain that the house too had been struck, and any minute would burst into flames.

“Miss Grey!” Captain Neill shouted for her through the wall. “Miss Grey, come back!”

Angelica stopped herself halfway down the kitchen stairs. Where exactly had she intended to go? She could not very well flee into the night, out into the rain and the relentless storm. She would die out there—but, at least, she would not burn.

She waited for the sound of flames, for the smell of smoke. But nothing came. The lightning had only struck the tree—admittedly, too close for comfort, yet not a direct hit. She was safe for now.

“Miss Grey!” Captain Neill continued to call to her.

She reluctantly turned on her heel, and began the slow ascent back upstairs. What a fool she was! She’d acted like a coward in front of him, of all people. He would think her nothing more than a scared child, and probably never come back to see her again.

“Miss Grey! Miss Grey, come back. Please!”

Angelica pressed her hands to the panel, steadying her breathing before she presented herself. He could not know what a silly little coward she was. “I’m here.”

“Are you frightened of the storm?” His voice was softer than usual.

She took a deep breath. “Only the lightning. I was certain we’d taken a hit.”

“Come out from behind that wall, and you’ll see everything is all right.”

Angelica did as he asked, though she had no idea whether anything was damaged. “Yes. How silly of me.”

“Not silly at all, really. I still jump at the sound of thunder, convinced it’s the Germans shelling again.”

She sat down in her spot in the shadows, safely out of sight. “I’m afraid of my house catching fire.”

“Well, it certainly does happen—although rarely. But, losing your home is a legitimate concern. I, on the other hand, am afraid of something that hasn’t happened to me in many years, and likely won’t happen again in my lifetime. It’s irrational, I know. Doubt I’ll ever get over it, no matter how much time passes.”

“You must have been very brave to fight in the war.”

“Back then, yes. Now I run from the memories every chance I get.”

Angelica drew up her knees, and hugged her arms around her skirts. She wasn’t cold, but could not stop shaking. “No one could blame you for that. I’m sure it was wretched.”

“It was. But don’t you think I ought to ‘be a man about it’, as my father says?”

“Was he in the war, too?”

Captain Neill laughed. “No.”

“Then he has no right to tell you how to feel.”

“Well, yes. I suppose you’re right about that,” he said. “But my older brother was there—though not for long. He lost a leg at Loos.”

Angelica brought her trembling hands to her lips. “I am sorry.”

“He’s all right, if not much of a dancer these days. I think my father took it harder than he did, really. Problem is, the old man believes that I had it easy just because I came home without a scratch. But I saw things and did things that will haunt me until the day I die. One never truly comes back whole from a war.”





CHAPTER NINE





“Have you really never wanted to leave home?” he asked her. “Never wanted to set off and see the world?”

Angelica almost laughed. Of course, she did, but she’d learned long ago not to trouble herself with impossibilities. “No.”

“Never wanted to settle down and get married, then?”

His question caught her off guard, but she composed herself quickly enough to quip, “I’m not the sort of girl men marry.”

“You’re truly not ugly, are you? I thought you were joking.”

“I have been called pretty…”

“Ha! I knew it,” he said, laughing. “So why wouldn’t some chap marry you?”

She wanted to tell him. As they’d grown closer over the hours, she had begun to feel guilty for keeping a secret, like she’d been lying to him from the very start. Hiding her true self.

Any man who liked her, and wanted to be her friend, would still want those things after he knew the truth. Her weakness was a part of her—but not all of her. She certainly hoped it did not define who she was as a person, or make her less worthy of friendship.

Her mother, father, or Freddie had never hidden her weakness. They didn’t shy away from introducing her when they had visitors, or neighbors over for dinner. She had taken tea in the drawing room, and sat at the dinner table like any normal member of the family. They brought her to church services and village fetes. She even went to the train depot to wave Freddie off for the Front.

So, why did she feel she ought to keep her secret hidden from Captain Neill? Now that she knew him better, she did not believe he would expose her, or give her away. He might even protect her, if the men ever came for her.

Angelica took a deep breath. And then another. “Do you really want to know?”

“Only if you want to tell me.”