Free The Soldier's Bride by Maggie Ford Page A

chest so that it took a great effort to breathe properly. Her hands flew to her mouth as tears blurred her sight.
    ‘How long?’
    ‘The doctor told your father just before Christmas that it could be just a couple of months.’
    ‘And he didn’t say anything to us?’
    ‘Perhaps he thought it better not to, or perhaps he couldn’t bring himself to say it.’
    ‘Oh, me poor dad! Whatever will he do?’ She was on her feet, David coming forward to catch her as she staggered towards him. Her voice was muffled against his chest. ‘David, I can’t think of you and me – of marriage … It’d seem so …’
    ‘That’s why I didn’t burden him with it,’ he said as her voice died away. Letty straightened, looked at him through her tears.
    ‘You never said nothing at all?’
    His smile was wry. ‘It wasn’t quite the time.’
    ‘But you do still want to marry me?’ Immediately she wanted to bite back the words. ‘Oh, David, I’m sorry. I don’t know what made me say that. I didn’t mean to sound so – so selfish at a time when …’
    He had her tightly in his arms, his lips pressing down on hers, taking her by surprise.
    He’d kissed her like this once before, in the taxi whenshe’d asked to meet his parents. At least there had been the driver present then to make it seem less abandoned. But here, the two of them alone together with the kitchen door practically closed, she should certainly not be allowing herself to be kissed like this, much less be returning it. Surely a decent girl didn’t allow herself to be kissed in this way until she was married?
    ‘We mustn’t …’ she tried to say, words muffled by his kisses.
    Against her lips, David was murmuring, ‘Because you love me, my darling. Because I love you. Because we will be married, my sweet precious darling.’
    At that moment it didn’t seem like her, Letty Bancroft, eighteen and a half years old, ignorant now of the strong passions that flow in the veins of lovers, making them oblivious to all else. At this moment she felt as old and wise as time itself, yet strangely buoyant and young, gasping against his lips, her body willing to be crushed against him, his to use as he would.
    When suddenly David released her, she reeled slightly, with an effort regained her balance, stood blinking as the scruffy everyday appearance of the kitchen came back into focus. A laugh broke from her as her breath returned. ‘Oh, David, I do love you so,’ she gulped, amazed to see how glum his expression had become, knowing he was thinking of her mother.
    In under a year Arthur Bancroft had seen his youngest daughter mature from a giggly girl who’d had all the local boys mooning after her, to a woman whose eyes held afaraway look. Letty was in love and love somehow had made her sad.
    He too felt sad, a sad empty pit inside him. He didn’t want to lose his little girl to any man, but that was the nature of things; there was nothing he could do about it.
    He took her aside. ‘I know you and your David are lookin’ ter get engaged,’ he said. ‘I want ter see you ’appy, Letitia, but all I can think of right now is yer mum.’
    Letty put her arms about his hunched shoulders as his voice faded disconsolately. ‘I know, Dad. Don’t worry yourself about us. You’ve got enough to worry about with Mum.’
    ‘It’s not that I don’t want ter see you and ’im ’appy. I just feel there ain’t nothing in life fer me any more. When …’ He stopped sharply, then began again. ‘If any-think was to ’appen to yer mum, there wouldn’t be nothink left fer me.’
    Letty’s throat constricted. ‘Don’t talk like that, Dad. Mum’ll be all right.’
    ‘Lucilla getting married soon an’ all,’ he went on dolefully. ‘I got no ’eart in it. ’Oo’s to ’elp prepare fer it?’
    Letty gave him a comforting squeeze. ‘What d’you think I’m here for, Dad? I’ll sort out all the necessaries, so long as Lucy pulls her weight too. That’s if she wants