with him. She was also quite certain she should not be feeling this exhilarating sense of anticipation, as if she were getting ready to jump into the loch, knowing it would be shockingly cold but unbearably tempted by its deceptively blue embrace on a warm summer’s day. ‘What, then, would you call it?’ Flora asked.
The corporal reached out to touch the lock that hung over her forehead, twining it around his finger. ‘Autumn,’ he said thoughtfully.
She caught her breath. ‘That’s not a colour.’
‘It is now.’
The door to the drawing room opened, and he sprang away from her. ‘Flora?’ her father said.
‘I was showing Corporal Cassell our collection of firearms.’
The laird drew her one of his inscrutable looks before turning back to the colonel. ‘Good day to you. I will see you in a few days, but in the meantime you can reach me by telephone, and I’m sure my daughter will keep me fully briefed.’
With a gruff goodbye to the corporal, her father picked up his walking stick and headed for the front door where the deerhounds awaited him. He’d be off for a long tramp across the moors. Her father supported the war unequivocally and would like as not have enlisted himself if he’d been of age, but Glen Massan House was in his blood, and giving it up was no easy sacrifice to make.
A horrible premonition of the other, much more painful sacrifices her family might ultimately have to make made Flora feel quite sick, but she resolutely pushed the thought away. There was no point in imagining the worst when there was work to be done. Besides, neither of her brothers was currently in the firing line, for which she was guiltily grateful.
She turned her attention to the forecourt, where the corporal was in earnest conversation with his colonel. The engine of the staff car was already running. She could not hear what was being said, but she could tell the Welshman was not happy. Eventually, he stepped back and saluted. The car drove off in a flurry of gravel, and the corporal re-joined her.
‘What do you intend to use our house for?’ Flora asked.
‘It’s supposed to be hush-hush, though I can’t imagine why. You’re not a German spy by any chance, are you?’ he asked sardonically. Pulling off his cap, he ran his fingers through his hair. ‘It’s been earmarked for special training. That’s all I know, and even if I did know more I couldn’t tell you. One thing I do know, though, we only have a few weeks to get the place ready before the first batch of Tommies arrive, so me and the lads are going to have to get our skates on.’
‘Which means that I, too, will have to get my skates on. I would not wish to be responsible for delaying the British army,’ Flora said, trying not to panic. Outside, the soldiers were playing an impromptu game of football on the croquet lawn. She prayed her mother had for once done as she was bid, and kept to the Lodge. ‘How many of you are here as the—what is it, advance guard?’
‘Just the one section, me and twelve men.’
‘Goodness, when you arrived it seemed like hundreds.’
‘It most likely will be soon, but for now it’s just us. And the colonel, of course, whenever he deigns to join us.’
Flora eyed him sharply. ‘You sound positively insubordinate, Corporal.’
‘Do I?’
‘The colonel strikes me as the kind of man who is rather more efficient in his absence than his presence,’ she ventured.
‘And you are qualified to make such a judgement, are you?’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, why must you be so abrasive?’ Flora snapped. Though he raised his brows at her flare of temper, he made no attempt to apologise. She suspected he was the kind of man who made a point of not apologising for anything, if he could avoid it. ‘Look, the truth is, I have no idea whatsoever what it is that you expect of me,’ she said with a sigh. ‘So if you can bring yourself to let me in on your plans, I would very much appreciate it.’
His expression softened into a hint of a smile, which did very strange things to Flora’s insides. ‘Since I’ve only just been dumped with— Since I’ve only just assumed responsibility, I don’t actually have any plans. You’re not the only one who is in uncharted territory.’
‘Thank you. I know that shouldn’t make me feel better, but it does.’
‘As long as you don’t go bleating to your daddy.’
‘I am not a lamb, Corporal,’ Flora snapped, ‘and I am certainly not in the habit of telling tales.’
‘I apologise, that was uncalled for.’
She glared at him. ‘Yes, it was.’
Once again, he surprised her by laughing. ‘You really are a feisty thing, aren’t you, Miss Carmichael.’
And he really was rather sinfully attractive when he let down his guard. ‘Call me Flora. We shall sink or swim together, then,’ she said, holding out her hand.
He did not shake it, but instead clicked his heels together and bowed. ‘If we are to swim together, then you must call me Geraint.’
He held her gaze as he turned her hand over and pressed a kiss to her palm, teasing her, daring her to react. His kiss made her pulse race. Seemingly as shocked as she, he dropped her hand as if he had been jolted by an electric current.
They stared at each other in silence. He was the first to look away. ‘We should start by making the tour, and take things from there,’ he said gruffly.
Had she imagined the spark between them, or was the corporal intent on ignoring it? Flora was so confused that she was happy to go along with him. ‘Yes,’ she said, aware that she was nodding rather too frantically. ‘That sounds like a plan.’
‘In the meantime, my men will unload the trucks and set up temporary camp.’
‘Oh, please, not on the lawn. My mother specifically asked...’
‘What, is she worried that we’ll dig latrines next to her rose beds?’
‘Actually, manure is very good for roses.’
She caught his eye, forcing a smile from him that relieved the tension. ‘Perhaps you could suggest somewhere more suitable, Miss Flora.’
‘At the back near the kitchens might be best. The house will shelter the tents from the wind coming in off the loch, and they will be near a good water supply.’
‘Practical thinking. I’m impressed.’
‘Goodness, a compliment Corporal—Geraint.’
‘A statement of fact.’
‘Did I pronounce it correctly? Your name, I mean. Geraint.’
‘Perfectly,’ he said shortly.
Really, his mood swung like a pendulum. ‘What have I said to offend you this time? I can almost see your hackles rising,’ Flora said, exasperated.
‘Nothing.’
She threw him a sceptical look.
‘I don’t think I’ve heard my Christian name spoken since I joined up, that’s all,’ he finally admitted. ‘I’d almost forgotten how it sounded.’
She was instantly remorseful. ‘But don’t you get leave? I am sorry, I am afraid I know nothing of these things.’
Geraint shrugged. ‘Why should you? No, we don’t get leave. Leastways, nothing long enough for me to go back to see my family.’
‘Your family! So you’re married,’ Flora exclaimed, inexplicably appalled by this.
‘Good God, no! I wasn’t married when the balloon went up and I’d be a fool to get hitched while there’s a war on. Even if there happened to be someone I wanted to marry, which there is