CHAPTER SONG: "Wings" by Birdy
April 24th, 1917
Express to Waterloo Station
"Slow down, my love. You don't want to give yourself a stomachache." William Schofield cautioned the woman who sat opposite him in the dining room car as they both finished their lunch. As relieved as he was to see her eating a full meal and having her hunger satisfied, he didn't want to see her become ill as she had been on the channel ferry returning back to England from the shores of France.
Those two days on the boat had been torturous for his beloved Emmanuelle and he had been by her side every minute as she suffered from sea sickness, cradling her hands in his and holding back her lovely waves of brunette hair, making sure she had water and at least some morsels of food in her rebellious stomach as she was left bedridden from the mal-de-mer.
The last thing both of them needed was a repeat of that before arriving to Surrey...
Emmy drank the last of her milk and sat the glass down by her plate before wiping her lips with her napkin. "Will, don't be so worried. Would you rather I not eat and become really thin and bony?"
"Absolutely not! I'd rather see you healthy and full of energy than weak and sick like you were before..." William set aside his plate on the table so he could reach over and lay his arm on the wooden surface, holding out his hand for her to hold. "I don't mean to offend you in anyway, Emmanuelle."
His voice had lowered into a soft murmur as Emmy reached out her hand and laid it within his gentle grasp. Joseph Blake's bracelet tied with Thomas' rings laid on her wrist in plain sight of both the Corporal and the American companion of his heart, eyes locked on the trinket around the delicate joint of her arm.
As though she were reading his mind, Emmy knew many questions were building up in her soldier's brain and she knew this topic couldn't be avoided forever and she knew they had to answer as William raised her hand to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles. His other hand, the scarred one from the barbed wire, laid atop of hers, his fingers delicately stroking along her wrist where her pulse vibrated within her veins.
Such strength and fire inside this petite, lovely woman who had endured even more horrors than he could imagine from his limited perspective as a soldier and a modest Englishman...
Good Lord, he would never tire of kissing or caressing her as long as he lived...
And yet, despite the adrenaline he felt from his euphoric adoration of the girl sitting before him, he still felt the painful stab of fear at the thought of her suddenly disappearing and being sent back to this mysterious 21st century, and back within the reach of this monster of her nightmares, Erik Baumer. This disgusting wretch of a man who had terrorized Emmy, forced himself into her home and drugged her against her will... and God knew what else...
And William thought he possessed a genuine hatred for her father, who had broken her hand when she was a small child...
How badly he wanted to believe Emmy's words from earlier when she had told him she could deal with Erik alone, when and if she would return back to her own era.
If she was harmed and he wasn't there to protect her... or worse...
The mere thought of beautiful Emmanuelle, her body devoid of warmth and motion, no breath exhaling from her sweet lips, her mouth never again forming words of love directed towards him, her heartbeat never pulsating life again through her veins... to never see her eyes open and sparkle again with their green brilliance, more stunning than the greenest hills of Flanders.
William's darkening thoughts threatened to pull him deeper into the never-ending pit of worry, so much so that he didn't feel Emmy pull her hand out of his grasp before she sat down by his side in the dining booth, the train car waiter removing their silverware and plates from their table.
The concerned American woman reached up and placed one of her small hands along his sculpted cheekbone, her fingertips gently caressing down his jawline as she turned his head for him to look at her. Emmy's other hand played with the back of his head, running her fingers through his dark brown hair that she could feel was feeling slightly shaggy compared to the clean army cut required for him from when they first met.
Corp. Will Schofield was pulled away from his thoughts, once again saved by the woman he loved as she leaned upwards and kissed his cheek, then his lips. He returned the kiss with a relieved fervor, a deep sigh emanating from his throat.
God, she tasted heavenly always, with every kiss sweeter than the last... and he could admit to not having kissed that many girls back at home. But he knew with everything in his body and soul that the faceless girls from the past didn't compare to the lady, ever fair and kind, sitting before him in the booth seat. Her eyes, shaming the most gorgeous emeralds with their shine, looked up at him with a sadness he wanted to immediately make go away.
"I know that look on your face, Will Schofield. What's wrong?" Emmy caressed both of his cheeks with her dainty hands, her voice a whisper to keep both of them calm and to not draw attention to themselves.
And she amazed him yet again, seeing through him even though he had been ever strictly trained to conceal his emotions and not open himself to such vulnerability.
Will cleared his throat, pulling his mind back into the present and he relaxed ever so slightly in her arms as his scarred hand reached up and took ahold of her own hand, pressing her palm to his cheek, reveling in her soft touch.
"It's nothing, sweetheart. Don't worry about me." William removed her hand from his cheek, brushing his lips against her palm before also kissing the strong pulse of her wrist where a couple of thin blue veins were visible underneath her pale skin. Reminding himself that she was alive and healthy and safe...
They both were, and many couples like them weren't so lucky nowadays...and they had to cherish every minute together.
"That's part of loving someone, Will. I will always worry about your wellbeing, like you worry about mine." She brushed some imaginary dust from his shoulder and rubbed her free hand down his pectoral, silently appreciating the solid muscle of his chest underneath the blue tunic of his uniform.
She was reminded of her hair still being loose and around her face instead of it being wrapped up in an era appropriate bun or braid like a proper lady had her hair styled as Will removed some stray brown strands from her cheek and forehead. A scarlet blush colored her face and the man sitting before her couldn't help but smile at the angelic sight...
"I forgot to redo my hair. I'm sorry, Will. I really prefer having my hair down, not really tying it up." Emmy couldn't help but cringe as she wasn't sure what was going through his mind at the sight of her hair, wild and tangled around her face.
"You wear your hair however you desire, my beautiful Emmy." William's voice deepened into a low croon in her ear, his nose brushed her cheek and stray strands of her mahogany tresses like silken waves of ribbon similar to that of a fictional creature of folklore or mythology, teasing his senses. "When I first laid eyes on you, I'd never seen a sight more heavenly, your hair dancing untamed in the wind. Like that of a mermaid's floating in the water as she swims through the ocean. The sunlight forms a halo around your head every time it shines on your luscious dark locks, my love, be they restrained in a braid, or cascading down your back like a waterfall of delectable melted chocolate."
The brunette woman couldn't help but beam with girlish delight at the dreamy intonation of his words, purified with adoration and absent of irony or sarcasm as Will pressed several delicate kisses to her temple and reddened cheek, nuzzling her hair with such sensuality it made Emmy believe nearly entirely that nobody else in existence could display love for her with such reverence and care...
William Schofield truly made her feel desirable like a man rightly wants a woman in the way God had intended... Where she could be seduced and cherished all at once and still feel safe...
Emmanuelle was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice Will had ceased kissing her and was now tenderly turning her head to him so she would meet his gaze, his thumb and finger holding her chin to regain her attention, his blue eyes rivaling the sky outside the window of the train car.
"Emmy...I need to ask you something." Will's tone of voice had changed from its previous air of romantic verse and now held a pitch of serious speculation, yet his eyes displayed no signs of accusation toward her. Emmy looked down and noticed that his scarred hand held her wrist in his gentle grip, his fingers brushing the string tied bracelet of Thomas Blake's earrings. "Where did you acquire these rings? I last gave them to Lt Blake when I told him...about Tom."
Emmy noticed that alight shake in his voice as he mentioned his fallen comrade. Her free hand reached up and stroked his cheek again to comfort him, his vigilant azure gaze focused on the improvised trinket around her wrist.
She knew he would ask about this eventually and there was no way around explaining it, even though his mind was already deducing the truth. It seemed today was a day of reckoning confession for her... And she answered before he could ask further.
"Joseph Blake wrote to me when I was in the hospital and he placed Tom's rings in the envelope for safekeeping. He...wanted me to hold onto them for him." Emmy attempted to keep the shakiness out of her voice, but it was to no avail...
"He's in love with you, isn't he?" William outright asked the question to her, not wanting to keep it hanging in the air any longer. His voice remained soft and at a near whisper level.
"In the letter he wrote me...he confessed as such. That he'd fallen for me." Emmy took both of Will's large hands within hers, tears soaking her eyes. "But he knows that I love you, and only you, William. Please understand, I didn't lead him on or encourage it. In fact, I begged him not to even consider feeling anything for me beyond friendship. Nothing happened except..."
She paused as she recalled that one instance between her and Joseph. That uninvited kiss that she had rebuffed and nearly disgraced him in regards to the mission to protect her and he had that moment of damning weakness.
"My beloved, I promise I'm not angry at you. Did...did he try anything dishonorable with you?" William's voice remained ever patient in his questioning, especially after he had been told the details about her experiences with Erik. "He was entrusted with your safety and I need to know if anything happened to compromise that vow."
"Joseph...he tried to kiss me shortly after I woke up in the hospital. But I turned away before he could do it. And I just about slapped him for it since he knew that you and I already loved each other, and he regretted it deeply." Emmy couldn't help but feel melancholic at the memory as Will wiped away some escaped tears from her cheeks, pink as the fragile petals of a cherry blossom. "But we agreed to remain friends...and that we'd write to each other. And he won't pursue me as a suitor out of respect for both you and myself."
William now held both of her hands, his thumbs caressing both sets of her dainty knuckles as he deliberated the information his lovely paramour had given him as she basically climbed into his lap, still sitting in the dining booth.
The lance corporal gazed upon the canvass of pure emotion painted across her face, apprehension casting a dark shadow upon her splendor when she had been so happy moments ago. She remained breathtaking in her sadness, yet he couldn't bear to see her in such distress after the last few hours of intense conversation between them. When he next spoke, he chose the words carefully. Lest he drive her away...
"Emmanuelle, I trust you with everything I am. If you say nothing happened, then I believe you. I'm honestly...not pleased that he tried to kiss you without you desiring him to do so, but he knows what he did was ungentlemanly." William did his best to soothe her, raising her hands to his mouth, placing a kiss to her fingers. "However, should things come to pass in the future...all I want is your happiness, no matter how or who with. I want you to know that, my darling. You should feel no obligation to be with me, should you find an alternate path in your life. Whatever you choose, my love for you will never waver...if anything it will strengthen, every day...every moment...as it's doing so as I speak these words to you."
He placed a kiss on each of her cheeks and both sides of her throat as he spoke to her, feeling her upper body shiver with goose-bumps at such blatant displays of physical affection, each touch of his lips to her skin more intoxicating than the last.
And Emmy ever savored that moment of intimacy from her Will, a purr of satisfaction rumbling within her vocal chords and she released a soft moan of pleasure as he pulled away from her. The sight would've been scandalous to anyone who may have seen them in any of the accompanying booths, but neither the American woman nor the English soldier failed to care. All that mattered in this instance was that they had each other.
Emmy ran her fingers through the corporal's soft wavy hair that was a slightly lighter brown compared to hers, William still holding her in his protective yet caring embrace, and she had never felt freer in her life. She leaned and kissed his lips with all the encompassing fire that threatened to burn the both of them, as though they had performed an act of consummation without definite lovemaking.
For three years, he had been wallowing and drowning in a hurricane of bloodshed and despair and nightmares and she was the headstrong mysterious creature pulling him back to the shores of sanity and peace.
That was the moment Lance Corp. William Schofield knew in all his soul that with this kiss she had given him, he would be forever wed to her.
And she returned his devoted gaze, remaining in his safe embrace as the conductor's voice bounced against the car's walls, regrettably shattering their solitude.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we're approaching Waterloo station in half an hour."
Without saying any other words in response to the interruption, Emmy slowly unraveled herself from her soldier's arms and she pulled him out of the booth, nodding a gesture of reassurance to her Will that they had to get their luggage together and prepare for their arrival at last in London...
.
Second Devons Regiment Camp, Flanders
April 24th, 1917
Lieutenant Joseph Blake sat back on his bed-fold inside his tent silently reveling in the calm that filled the evening air as he looked at the sealed envelope in his hands, reading the inked words over and over on the parchment.
Emmanuelle Hunterson had responded to the letter he had sent to her a few weeks ago and he had been worried she would ignore his attempted correspondence, but he was grateful she had the fortitude to reciprocate his pact of friendship between them.
In spite of there being no other human presence in the tent with the exhausted raven-haired soldier, he could sense that he wasn't alone as he reached over to his bedside table and clutched the mysterious photograph of the woman in a wedding dress, the vision exactly as she had appeared in his dream of Emmy abandoning her impending marriage to William Schofield to run away with him...
And he loathed himself for his inner desires wanting to push against his honorable intentions. Will Schofield and Emmy Hunterson deserved serenity after everything they had been through. And he had expressed such begging for forgiveness to her again as he signed the letter with his name that he intended to mail to the Schofields' residence in Surrey, addressed to both parties...
To my dear friends William and Emmanuelle,
I hope the both of you are safe and healthy in your travels to Surrey away from the horrors here in Flanders. At the time of writing this letter, I'm awaiting confirmation of my leave request being approved so I can look after my mother, who has received the letter addressed to her about my brother's death courtesy of Will...
Joseph read through the remainder of the letter, the words and sentences blurring together as he felt a pang of worry stab into his heart as he thought about his mother and the overwhelming guilt at not yet having written to her himself in the aftermath of such a humongous loss.
He placed the his letter on top of the framed picture of the beautiful girl in the wedding gown and clutched both to his aching chest, unshed tears forming in his eyes...
"It hurts, Tom. Everything hurts and I want it to stop." Joseph found himself whispering to the empty air, yet he still felt his brother beside him.
"I'm sorry, Joe. In time the pain will get better. You said your blossoming love for Emmy has helped to heal your grief, right? Maybe God sent her so you wouldn't lose yourself to the agony of losing me." The spirit of Corp. Thomas Blake placed a comforting hand on his older brother's shoulder.
"That may be, but I didn't intend to fall in love with her...like walking in the path of a bullet. She just leveled me with her eyes...and held me in her arms and kept me from falling into that void I may never have climbed out of after Schofield told me about you." Joseph allowed a few tears to escape down his stubble prickled cheeks and he wiped them away, reminding himself that he needed to shave at some point this week lest he be reprimanded by a commanding officer to maintain a clean appearance. "As kind as she is beautiful, that woman. Perhaps even more so, Tom. I was surprised she didn't wallop me when I almost kissed her at the hospital."
"Yeah, you probably deserved a good striking to the face for that, Joe." Tom chuckled lightheartedly, nudging his brother's shoulder. "But she forgave you and pledged herself to you with friendship, didn't she?"
Lt. Blake looked down at the black-and-white photograph of the woman who was the subject of the brothers' discussion. "Yes, she did. And if that's all I can have from her, then I'll vow to be there for her and Will. Whatever this dream I keep having means, it will never come true. I tried to make an advance on her and almost lost her trust. My love for her will remain unbroken, however silent and aching."
"But, Joe. It's not good for you, keeping something like love locked up inside you." Tom tried to argue against Joseph's declaration. "Emmy means a lot to me as well, like a sister I never had. How do you know that what you feel for her is really love and not infatuation?"
The lieutenant traced his fingertip around the image of Emmanuelle, ever regal and glorious in her bridal attire, following the length of the white veil trailing down her back. How far she would remain out of his reach, yet never out of sight...
"Because her happiness matters more to me than my own desires. If I can't be a lover to her, then I'll stand to be anything else she needs. No matter what. For both her and Corporal Schofield." He carefully pulled the picture of her out of the frame and placed it into the front of his uniform pocket that lay above his racing heartbeat.
The guiding ghost of Tom didn't respond as another male voice spoke his name as they approached his tent, an authoritative voice with a fatherly kindness that made him feel at ease. "Lieutenant Blake."
The younger soldier immediately stood to attention as he adjusted the photo of the girl he loved in his pocket and out of visibility as the tent flap opened and Major Hepburn stepped inside. Lt. Blake saluted the superior officer, his back arched ramrod straight as he postured himself to his full height and straightened his already broad shoulders. "Major Hepburn, sir."
"At ease, Lieutenant. I apologize for interrupting your rest." The older man removed his helmet as he locked eyes with the roguish Blake brother. "I wanted to speak about your application you placed for compassionate leave."
"Yes, sir." Lt. Blake nodded his head in acknowledgement, gulping back his anxiety and anticipation as he awaited the major's next words.
"It seems your leave has been approved. You'll be heading back home first thing tomorrow morning, 0-800." The major kindly informed the quietly relieved man in front of him. "You've earned it, Lieutenant. I was told about your success in escorting the lovely young lady Miss Hunterson to the hospital in Haute-Marne."
"But we lost Private Seymour, sir. A damned sniper blew his brains all over the ambulance cab before he even knew what hit him." His hand unconsciously went to his breast pocket where the photo of Emmy was held for safekeeping.
"Unfortunately, soldiers die. And not always in the most dignified ways, Lieutenant. Although by the red in your eyes, I sense this conversation is more about your confused and distracted heart." A concerned look crossed Hepburn's face as Lt. Blake averted his eyes down to the ground. "Is she worth the heartache and pain of unrequited love?"
"Every moment and more, sir. I had a foolish moment of impulse and almost lost her good faith in me. I wasn't in control." Joseph found himself admitting more than he knew was appropriate to a commanding officer, but he needed to get the words out. "She and Corporal Schofield love each other and I know it's a mortal sin to covet another man's girl, not to mention I outrank him as well."
"You're a good man, Lt. Blake. This advice goes beyond what's proper between us with your life as a soldier and the personal matters of your heart. You shouldn't lose hope that things will work out somehow. God isn't cruel enough to place you in her path for you to only hold a secret love for her. I strongly suggest should the opportunity come for you that she returns your affection, don't let it slip away. Even I knew in the short time she was here in the camp that a maiden like her doesn't come along every century."
"Thank you, Major Hepburn. I'll keep every word of yours in mind." A calm smile graced the Lieutenant's lips for what felt like the first time in an era. "And you're certainly right about her, sir. She's everything you've said and so much more... She...she's just everything that cannot be explained."
Major Hepburn held back an amused chuckle at the smitten look on the younger man's face, no doubt he was having a fond memory of the fair American girl and he didn't blame him for experiencing such a sensation. "You oughta have a shave before your departure, Lt. Blake. It won't do to have a messy appearance should you encounter Miss Hunterson again in the future."
"Yes sir." Joseph smiled only slightly at the major, wanting to keep up a dignified manner before allowing his excited grin to widen once the superior officer exited the tent.
He placed the letter he had just written to his late brother's mission companion and the woman both of them loved into his front uniform pocket with the photograph of Emmy as the bride of his dreams, with no intention of mailing it.
This time tomorrow, he would be home with his dear mother and he would see the gorgeous cherry trees again. He would be there for her in their grief for Thomas and he would tell her about the woman who held his broken heart in her gentle hands and stitched it back together. Whatever else she chose to do with it he knew nothing would be the same as it was before he first laid eyes on Emmanuelle, the rarest bloom whose splendor placed to shame all the blossoms in his family's orchard.