Page 57 of The Last Kiss

CHAPTERNINETEEN

When Ash woke the next morning, he was alone. It came as no surprise. What did surprise him was the fact that it was close to eight o’clock. He never slept so late, certainly not after one of his nightmares. But of course, he’d been with Harry.

He rolled onto his back and gazed at the ceiling, allowing himself a moment to think about last night. Christ alive, even the memory of Harry’s hot mouth on him was enough to stir a rise. He’d heard of such things, of course, but always thought the act sounded rather…crude. But that? That had not been crude, it had been sweet and loving and he felt tears prick just remembering.

After he’d dressed, and unable to face his father’s silent anger over breakfast, Ash took a stroll to the stables in the hopes of seeing Harry. He found him working in the yard and his heart lifted at the sight of him, even though Boyd was there too. And John Pierson.

Boyd came forward to greet Ash, Harry sparing a brief look before returning to his work. John watched them both with his usual sullen interest and Ash experienced a twist of unease. The atmosphere felt strained.

“Morning, Mr Ashleigh,” Boyd said. “Are you looking to ride this morning, sir? I’m afraid I’ll need West, but you can — ”

“No, no.” Ash risked another quick glance at Harry. He’d turned away so that Ash could only see his profile, but there was a tense set to his jaw that Ash didn’t like. It distracted him enough that he lost the thread of his thoughts. “Ah, that is, I only came down to-to-to stretch my legs.” He felt a tell-tale heat rise in his face and, to cover it, knocked his cane against his new leg. It gave a hollow, metallic clunk. “Testing out the new equipment.”

Boyd’s eyebrows rose. “Very good, sir. I hope you find it more convenient.”

“Yes, so far so good. I’d like to test it riding, but unfortunately not today.” He cleared his throat, spared Harry a final — probably unwise — glance, and said, “Well, better be off. Thank you, Boyd.”

He left with the uncomfortable sensation of being watched creeping along his spine. What was wrong with Harry? Had they been seen last night? No. Impossible. If they’d been discovered, something would have happened; it wasn’t the sort of secret anyone let lie.

Perhaps Harry was simply self-conscious in front of Boyd — and John, the sly little sod. Afraid of Ash giving something away, probably. He knew Harry thought he was indiscreet, but evenhewasn’t so reckless as to say something blatant when they were in company. Harry was something of a conservative, he thought fondly, and then blushed thinking again of last night — nottooconservative.

He was still smiling when he reached the house and found that the Allens had arrived. Ready to offer his thanks for the use of their town house, the words died on his lips as he entered the parlour and saw Olive’s pinched expression. For a dreadful moment he thought something had happened — a bereavement, perhaps — but Mrs Allen was her bustling, busybody self and bestowed Ash with an indulgent smile.

“Ah, here he is,” she said. “I hope you were comfortable in town?”

The obligatory thanks and demurs were exchanged, but all the while Ash’s attention was drawn back again and again to Olive, sitting silently next to her mother. What the devil had happened? It seemed to be the morning for unexplained tensions.

Once his mother and Mrs Allen fell into conversation, Ash took the opportunity to say, “Olive, would you care to take a stroll in the garden? I’m trying to get used to my” — he considered blunting it for his mother’s benefit; decided against it — “new leg, and sitting down doesn’t do much good.”

His mother looked his way, her flicker of irritation quickly dissolving when Olive jumped to her feet.

“Rather,” she said, with more force than he supposedhermother would endorse.

They fetched their coats — it was a chilly morning, without yesterday’s sun — and as soon as they were outside, and far enough away from the house to talk, he said, “Now tell me what’s happened.”

She gave him a startled look. “Is it that obvious?”

“Clear as day. Is it — Did you lose one of the men at Chewton or…?”

“No. That would be — Well, it sounds wretched to say that would be ‘better’ but…” Her voice wobbled, which was alarming. He’d never seen Olive distressed. But perhaps the expression on her face wasn’t distress at all. Perhaps it was fury. Pent up, impotent fury. Yes, he recognised it very well now that he understood. “Father has forbidden me to continue volunteering at Chewton. He said it’s… It’s putting off my suitors.”

Ash grimaced. “And by suitors, I suppose he means me?”

“Yes. Not only you, Ashleigh, but now you’re back at the bank they hope — ”

“I’m not.” They’d reached the end of the house and turned along the path toward the archway into the wilderness. “I turned the position down.”

Olive was silent, their footsteps crunching over gravel while she thought. “Good,” she said at last. “I’m pleased for you. I know you hated the idea.”

“You’re about the only one who is pleased,” he said sourly. “Father’s written to Mr Pollock to demand he gives me a second chance. He’s going to tell him I’m some kind of nervous case — hardly going to recommend me, I should think. But Sir Arthur is influential…”

“And you’ll still say no?”

“Of course.” He saw something flit across her face, envy perhaps. “I have that luxury. Not that my father will make it easy — he’s already accused me of sponging off Dodge — but at least I have some independence.” He touched her arm. “It’s easier for me to defy my father than for you.”

Olive gave a tight nod. “Major Edwards spoke to me yesterday. He was very kind. He — ” Her voice broke. “He said he can’t afford to anger my father by continuing my employment there. And besides, it’s only a few months until Chewton closes. It’s one of the last auxiliary hospitals, you see, and there will soon be room for all the men to transfer to Queen Mary’s.” She took a bracing breath, wiped a finger under both eyes. “So, you see, it would all be coming to an end anyway.”

An end to the war and with it an end to Olive’s freedom.

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