Free Lady Myddelton's Lover by Evangeline Holland Page A

him.
                  "Well enough, I suppose," She finally replied, hoping the continued coolness would repulse his advance.
                  "Shall we go in?" He gestured towards the locked wrought-iron door.
                  Leonore opened her mouth to deny him entry, when the crack of an anti-aircraft gun shook her from her irritation and shock. She jammed her key into the lock and hurriedly pushed the door open as she twisted the key, her shock transmuting to a panic that set her pulse pounding in her ears. London had suffered two appalling Zeppelin attacks within the past week, each growing closer and closer to the West End and occurring without any warning. Photographs of the devastating rubble the Zepp's incendiary bombs made of buses and businesses were seared into the backs of her eyelids, and she almost slipped in her haste to run up the narrow staircase leading to her first floor flat.
                  A hand on her arm steadied her balance, and she cast a glance over her shoulder to see Captain Towyn—his complexion white and his jaw clenched tightly, but otherwise of calm expression—close behind her as they moved towards the front door. The key felt slippery between her fingers as she attempted to unlock her door, and she gasped in fear at the staccato booms she was positive caused the building to rattle, which grew louder in succession. Somehow, she knew not how, she and the captain stumbled into the foyer, the flat pitch black from the doused lights and the heavy regulation curtains over the windows.
                  She clutched him closely as they leaned against the wall, her nose buried deeply into his neck and her eyes shut tight as she mentally went through the steps of using roller bandages and surgical dressings. Leonore was unsure how long they stood there before the sound of the artillery finally ceased, but once it did, she became instantly aware of the feel of his legs entwined with hers and his hands, broad and warm, against her back. A shaky breath drew in his scent, a mixture of tobacco, dirt and shaving soap, underlined with the distinct smell of musk her work at the hospital identified as peculiar to the men serving in the trenches. She flushed hotly and then sprang out of his arms, certain he could feel her furious blush radiating from her skin.
                  "I suppose you are accustomed to such happenings…at the Front, I mean," She strove for nonchalance, but the shakiness of her voice belied her.
                  "There's nothing wrong with admitting fear," He said quietly. "I've had my fair share of wretched moments in the bally trenches."
                  She turned away from the familiarity his confidence invited, finding it confusing and more disturbing than the prospect of being blown to bits by a Zepp. Leonore moved the familiar path from the foyer to the living room, where she reached up to the fixtures on the wall to turn on the gas lighting. The warm glow filling the living room banished her anxieties over a Zeppelin attack, and when she turned to face Captain Towyn, she expected the light would banish her dread and anxiety over his presence.
                  Instead, it made her more anxious, and Leonore stayed her desire to shrink away from the intensity of his stare, made more intense by the shadows the brim of his service cap cast over his blue eyes and his gaunt, angular face. Her stomach tightened in a flash of insecurity and resentment as his eyes traveled from the top of her head to her booted feet, peeping from beneath the hem of her VAD uniform. She could practically read his distaste, an expression she could not seem to shake from her mind after five years' absence.
                  "You may close the door, Captain." She said sharply, unpinning her cap to toss onto the low table in the living room, and removing her cloak to hang on the wall peg. "Unless