Page 90 of The Unknown Birds

“So you never married?” he asked, almost bewildered. “Either of you?” he added.

“I’m far too recalcitrant, as you well know,” Rook snorted.

“No,” Ash laughed, for whom would she have married?

“Never even tempted?” Davies asked her. “Golly. I got close a time or two.”

“What happened?”

“The first time? Spanish flu.”

“I’m so sorry, Henry,” she said, trying his given name on for size.

Davies waved away her sympathy, though his face looked pained as he added a second pudding to his plate and passed the dish to Rook. “The second time, she decided too much of me had not returned from France. And the rest had not recovered from the flu.”

“How awful. After everything you’ve been through, everything you’ve sacrificed?”

He shrugged. “She was probably right. Anyway, I’m glad now. I can’t imagine having raised a son only to send him off to fight the same old war. Or a daughter, either, for that matter.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Ashley rasped, raising her glass and taking a deep gulp to chase away the shivers down her spine.

She could feel Rook’s eyes upon her, which eased the chill but not the shivers.

“You never wanted to marry?” His voice was soft, but intense, as though he’d been waiting months for the answer but was too afraid to ask, which was absurd.

Davies watched them closely, and Ash was certain he could see the way her cheeks were burning.

Shaking her head slightly, she cleared her throat and admitted, “Too much of me was left behind in France.”

They held each other’s gaze too long, and Ash wondered if Rook understood her meaning.

Across the table, Captain Davies grew very interested in his food, but after a few minutes he cleared his own throat and said, “Bloody great shame it’s all coming round again.”

“I agree,” Ash said, ripping her eyes from Rook to study her own, untouched pudding.

“Have you made an offer to Blake and Cooper?” Rook asked, his voice sounding almost normal.

“Cooper’s back in uniform, believe it or not,” the captain said with forced enthusiasm. “Joined up last month. Said his leadership skills from the pitch might help encourage downhearted young conscripts when the time comes.”

Ashley shivered again. He was probably right, but she couldn’t imagine sending her own worst enemy away to war.

“And Blake?” Rook prodded.

“Special assignment,” Davies answered cryptically before taking another drink.

The words made Ashley’s stomach, along with the rest of her, revolt. You’re on special assignment. Suddenly, it was rather hard to breathe.

“Spies and double agents and that?” Rook clarified after glancing her way in concern.

Davies raised his eyebrows, answering without words. So not a firing squad. Ash nodded. Not an executioner. Blake was—probably not safe, but it was something.

“Shall we retire to the library? I promise not to make you play charades, only the seating is more comfortable and there’s more appealing light.” He squinted at the electric chandelier above the table. “I still get the occasional migraine ever since the war.”

The gentlemen rose, but Ash remained sitting, lost somewhere between Belgium and France, an unnamed panic building in her chest. It was all too much—the approaching hostilities, the vivid reminders of last time, the agony in Rook’s eyes when he asked her about marriage.

“All right, Ash?” Rook pressed, his voice soft and far away, like he was speaking to her from the battlefield as though a ghost.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, standing abruptly to join them. “Dinner was lovely, but would you mind terribly if I retire? I’m quite exhausted from the train.”