Free No Regrets: A Novel of Love and Lies in World War II England (The Thornton Trilogy Book 1) by Mary Christian Payne Page B

haven’t met him yet. If he’s truly good, then I think he’ll be understanding and forgiving.”
    “Do you think you could ever forgive the men who hurt you?”
    “That’s such a different thing. They were evil – pure evil. I think I’ll let God do the forgiving.”
    “What about this ‘Sloan’ person?”
    “He was a ship that passed in the night. There’s really nothing to forgive. He didn’t hurt me. It was all a bit of innocent flirting. He probably thought all French girls expect that sort of behavior. I don’t think very highly of him, now that I know he was engaged, but compared to what came later, he didn’t do anything so terrible. He made me feel special for a few moments. I guess that isn’t so awful, really.”
    “I think you’re right. People do odd things at times like that.”
    “No matter, Giselle. I hope he marries the divine Anne and has a happy life. I won’t interfere.”
     
    ***
     
    The very next day, Giselle met the divine Anne. She’d expected the girl would eventually visit Highcroft Hall, and that Lady Celia would introduce them. She’d pictured Anne as a rather snooty young lady and had no great desire to meet her. But, of course, Giselle would be deferential, in keeping with her position in the household. She was sitting in the morning room, mending some clothing for Lady Celia. It was a pretty autumn day, and her mind was far away, thinking about how she’d spend her off-days that week. Suddenly her reverie was interrupted by the sound of voices. Glancing up, she saw the countess enter the room, followed by a very striking, dark haired girl. She had one of the loveliest complexions Giselle had ever seen. When she smiled, deep dimples showed, and her eyes were filled with kindness.
    “Giselle, I want to introduce our son’s fiancée to you. This is Lady Anne Whitfield, of whom you’ve often heard me speak.”
    Giselle stood and dropped a small curtsy. She knew it wasn’t strictly necessary, but it seemed the appropriate thing to do.
    “I’m so happy to meet you, Lady Whitfield. I’ve heard such charming things about you.”
    “And I have heard nothing but praise of you. Lady Celia thinks of you as a daughter.”
    “Oh, I’m flattered, Lady Whitfield, but it’s you who has that honour. As I understand, you’ll truly be her daughter when this dreadful war ends.”
    “Yes. That’s the plan,” she replied, casting her eyes toward the floor.
    Giselle thought she seemed ill-at-ease at the mention of marriage.
    “I understand you came from France when the war began,” Anne continued. “I think you must be very brave. I can’t imagine what courage that took.”
    Giselle smiled. “I don’t think I was courageous. When you’re desperate, you just act and think later. I’m sure you’d have done the same thing.”
    “Perhaps. I’ve never found myself in that sort of situation. How fortunate that all went well, and you weren’t captured. One hears horror stories about what’s done to people interred in camps.”
    “Yes. That’s one reason I decided to leave. Everyone I knew would have left, if given half a chance.”
    “Well, I still think you’re marvelously brave.”
    “Thank you, Lady Whitfield. I’m only glad to be in England now.”
    “Oh, do call me Anne. I detest such formality. I suspect we’re about the same age.”
    “I’m twenty-one. Sometimes I feel much older,” Giselle smiled.
    “Then we’re exactly the same age. There are so few girls in this town with whom I have anything in common, because of age. Either they’re much younger, and quite silly, or much older.” She turned to Lady Celia. “Oh don’t misunderstand,” she smiled at the older woman. “I love spending hours with this dear lady, but there are times when I long for someone my own age to laugh with and share secrets. I don’t have a sister, and I was educated at home by a Governess, so I’ve never had the chance to meet a lot of girls my own age.”
    Giselle’s