Page 40 of The Last Kiss

“Not a chance.”

Ash looked up, scanning his face. “You sighed. What is it?”

“Nothing. I’ve work to do, is all, especially if I’m coming up to town with you tomorrow.” He cupped Ash’s face, ran his calloused thumb over one cheekbone. “But, Ash, we have to be careful. You know that.”

“We are being careful.”

Harry’s eyebrows rose. “Are we?”

“It’s barely dawn. Nobody’s up.”

“The servants are up, you dolt.” He softened it with another smile, threading his fingers through Ash’s hair again, his expression one of wonder. “Just be careful, Ash. You’ve a deal more to lose than me.”

“A man’s allowed an early morning walk, isn’t he?”

“Half dressed?” Harry slid a flinger over Ash’s Adam’s apple, down through the hollow of his throat at the open neck of his shirt. “Not that I’m complaining, mind.” Christ, but that simple forbidden touch was enough to raise gooseflesh across Ash’s skin, to stir a rise in his prick that Harry must feel. Ash swallowed hungrily, half embarrassed and half thrilled. “But it’s not quite right for a gent.”

“Don’t worry,” Ash said. “They all think I’m half mad anyway.”

Harry’s expression hardened. “Then don’t give them more reason to, eh?”

“Are you joking? This is the sanest bloody thing I’ve done in years.” Ash leaned in and kissed him again. “But you’re right, I’ll be careful.” For Harry, if not himself. The last thing he wanted to do was queer the pitch for Harry. Reluctantly, he pulled away. “Shall I come to the stables later?”

“Best not.”

His heart sank, even though he understood. “Tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow.” With a squeeze of his hand, Harry let go and started back toward the garden. “Wait a few minutes,” he said over his shoulder. “And make sure nobody’s looking when you come out of here. Especially John.”

Ash nodded. They had no choice about being discreet, but the secrecy was oppressive. It felt like a tight band around his chest, one more strap on the straitjacket the world was so keen for him to wear.

CHAPTERFOURTEEN

The day of their trip up to London dawned through a sea mist, the air damp against Harry’s face as he made his way up to the house from the stables. He was surprised to see a motor car in the driveway, but then the front door opened and Miss Allen walked out with Ash trailing behind her looking grim and determined. Harry knew that expression well and didn’t enjoy seeing it again.

“Ah, there you are, West!” Olive called as she ran down the steps. “I’m giving you and Ashleigh a lift to the station this morning. Put your bag in the back seat, there’s a good fellow.”

Harry did as required, then moved to help Ash get into the car. Their eyes met, but neither said anything as Harry opened the passenger door and offered Ash his hand for balance. It was more of an excuse to touch him than anything else, and the feel of Ash’s cold fingers only confirmed what Harry could already see. Ash was terrified. “You’ll be alright, Captain,” he said with a nod.

Ash returned a thin smile. “Thank you, West. I appreciate your confidence.”

Glancing up, he found Olive watching them from the other side of the car, her gaze slipping away as she climbed into the driver’s seat. “Into the back, West,” she said and started the engine.

He slid himself in next to their bags, and then they were off.

Before the war, he’d not had much experience with motor cars, but he’d ridden in enough since to remove the novelty. Even so, whizzing along the country lanes with the wind in his face was an exhilarating experience — even with the mist. It only took half an hour to reach the station, and before long he and Ash were standing on the pavement watching Olive drive away.

“Well,” Harry said, “here we are.”

They bought their tickets — Ash insisted on first class for them both — and waited on the platform for the train. Ash was silent and tense, the dark circles beneath his eyes enough to stir Harry’s memories of other damp grey mornings and pale, frightened faces. He shifted closer until their shoulders touched. At the front, all the men had huddled together for warmth and comfort, had slept like a basket of puppies sometimes, all atop the other. But back in England, it wasn’t acceptable to stand so close, not even to offer comfort. One of many things that set the world off kilter.

At least the train was on time, great clouds of steam spilling onto the platform as it drew in, and Ash led them to the first class carriage with his fingers locked tight on the head of his cane. Harry took both their bags, and if anyone thought it strange that a servant should sit with his master in first class he didn’t give a damn. It was either that or Ash sitting with him in third, because there was no way he’d be anywhere but at Ash’s side on this journey.

Harry stowed their bags in the overhead rack and came to sit next to Ash on the bench seat. Luckily, so far, they had the compartment to themselves. Ash was milk-pale as the carriage door slammed, eyes closed and head resting back. When the first whistle blew, he started and Harry gripped his hand.

“Open your eyes,” he said firmly.

Ash didn’t move, but another whistle shrilled and his lips parted as if letting out a slow breath.

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