She looked upon him without flinching. Her eyes told him… What? That she worried for him as a soldier? That she feared for him as a friend? That she… Did she…lovehim?
His own feelings rose and flamed within him. This might be the last time he saw her. She would never know how deeply he felt for her, loved her, desired her… But here and now, in this moment, he must tell her, find the words, the way…
And then his mouth was upon hers. Hot, and moist, and hungry. She met him with equal fervor, clinging to his coat as if it were a raft upon the sea. Her lips received his like a drowning man received the arms of his rescuer, with a sort of desperation that could have been joy or fear.
William drew back suddenly. His eyes darted to the side, but no one was paying them any mind in their own hurry to depart. “I am so sorry,” he said. “I had no right. You must think me…”
But he could say nothing more, for Dr. Westbridge hailed them from a distance, almost running to reach them, his hair made wild with the motion, his hands smoothing it down as he reached them.
“Miss Lockhart,” he panted. “Your sister asked me to check on you. She said you were in shock. However, I see the color has returned to your cheeks.” He paused to catch his breath. “Is there anything else I can do for you? Perhaps I shall wait with you since Lieutenant Cole must report to his regiment. I hope my company will suffice?”
“You are very kind, as always, Dr. Westbridge,” Verity answered, her eyes averted from both men. Her fingertips lifted to her mouth. Did she taste William’s kiss still? Or did she wish to wipe it from her lips?
“Miss Lockhart.” William bowed formally, the time to part now thrust upon them. “I shall be writing to my sister whenever I can. Will you look in on her while I am away? She will no doubt worry about me. Perhaps she may find comfort in your visits.”
“I shall do so gladly,” she replied. “I hope that any news she receives from you may say you are well.”
She allowed her eyes to meet his. The tears were gone. The walls were up. And yet, he felt she spoke a thousand words in her silence. He reached out and took her hand by the very tips of her fingers, bringing the softness of his lips to them as a reminder.
“I bid you farewell, Miss Lockhart. May the parting be short and the war brief. For the sake of ourselves, and dear old England.”
She shook her head slowly. “I shall not say goodbye, Mr. Cole, but rather till we meet again. I wish you a safe journey. May God grant you courage for what lies ahead.”
With their parting greetings done, William was forced to turn from her, his beloved, and leave her in the waiting hands of Arthur Westbridge. He willed himself not to look back. He wanted to remember her when her eyes were upon him, not resting upon the doctor.
His legs grew leaden, each step farther from her dragging less and less willingly. A kiss was not enough. It was a thing of the moment, easily misunderstood. Perhaps she had granted it to a man she knew might fall in battle and was saving the one that came from her heart for the man who stayed behind.
He should have told her he loved her, should have asked for her hand. Then they would be engaged and he could write to her directly, receive her precious letters in her hand, her voice.
William ground to a halt. Why should he carry such regret when there was still time? It would make no difference if he took a little longer to report to Larson. But it could make all the difference in the world to his own future.
It mattered not that Westbridge was there. William would declare himself before an entire battalion if necessary. Time was of the essence. And his heart was at stake.
Nervousness and excitement built together. Just a few minutes more, and his life would change forever. No more regrets. Time to move forward. He knew what he wanted, and Miss Lockhart encapsulated it all. All he needed was one little word, a simple “yes,” and he would finally have his one true love.
