“We can definitely discuss editorial input, but Noah has had final manuscript approval in his contract for his last twenty books,” Adam countered softly, knowing it was one of my hard limits. Once I knew where a story was going, I let the characters take me there, come hell or editorial high water.
But this wasn’t my story, was it? This was her great-grandmother’s legacy.
“Fine. I’ll agree to being second-in-command of the ship.” It went against every bone in my body, but I’d do it.
Both Chris and Adam gawked at me.
“This once,” I added, glancing toward my publishing team. My agent would lose his shit if I set a precedent here.
Slowly, very slowly, Georgia leaned back in her chair. “I have to read it first, then talk to Helen—Gran’s agent.”
I mentally cursed but nodded. So much for being first. “I’m staying at the Roaring Creek Bed and Breakfast, and I’ll leave the address—”
“I know where it is.”
“Right. I’ll stay through the end of the week. If we work out a contract before then, I’ll take the manuscript and the letters back to New York with me and get started.” Good thing I liked rock climbing, because there was plenty of that to do around here while she decided. As much as I hated to admit it, this deal was now out of my hands.
“Agreed.” She nodded. “And you can put your name on it.”
My heart leaped. Guess I’d passed her test.
Chris, Adam, and Ava let out a collective sigh.
Georgia’s eyes flew wide, and her head snapped toward her mother. “Wait.”
Every muscle in my body locked.
“What letters?”
Chapter Three
July 1940
Middle Wallop, England
Well, this was a problem she should have foreseen. Scarlett’s gaze swept the platform, searching one last time just to be sure, her sister beside her doing the same. The train station was rather empty for a Sunday afternoon, making it obvious that Mary had forgotten to pick them up as promised. Disappointing, yet predictable.
“Surely she’ll be along in a minute,” Constance suggested, flashing a forced smile. Her sister had always been the more optimistic of them.
“Let’s check outside,” Scarlett suggested, looping her arm through Constance’s as they carried their small luggage cases off the platform. Their leave had only been for two days, but time always seemed to crawl for Scarlett when they were home.
Leave was hard to come by—especially at their rank—in the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force, but as usual, their father had pulled strings that neither of them had appreciated. Strings he liked to pull often, as if she and Constance were his personal puppets.
In a way, they still were.
When Baron and Lady Wright requested their presence, their daughters were expected to attend them, uniform or not. But those same strings were the ones he’d pulled to assure his daughters would be stationed together, and for that, Scarlett was immeasurably thankful. Besides, a weekend of listening to her mother attempt to plan her life out was well worth it when it meant Constance was able to see Edward. Her sister had fallen in love with the son of a family friend years ago. They’d all grown up together during their summers at Ashby, and she couldn’t have been happier for her sister. At least one of them would get to be happy.
Her hat shielded her eyes from the sun as they left the station, but there wasn’t much to be done about the stifling late July heat, especially in uniform.
“Honestly, I keep hoping she’ll be a bit more punctual,” Constance remarked quietly as people passed by on the pavement. Constance may have been noted as the more publicly reserved of the two of them, but she never withheld her opinion from Scarlett.
Her mother, on the other hand, thought Constance simply didn’t have opinions.
“There was a dance last night.” She gave Constance a knowing look and sighed. “We’d better get walking if we want to sign in on time.” There was nothing else to be done about it.
“Right.”
They grasped the handles of their luggage and began the long walk toward their station. Thankfully, they’d both packed light, because they hadn’t even made it to the corner, and Scarlett was already exhausted, weighed down by the news her mother had delivered.
“I’m not going to marry him,” she announced with a jerk of her chin as they made their way down the pavement.
“Feel better now?” Constance asked, lifting her dark eyebrows. “You’ve been holding that in all day. I think that might have been the quietest train ride we’ve ever had.”
“I’m not going to marry him,” she repeated, snapping every word. Just the thought of it made her stomach churn.
An older woman passing by shot her a reproachful stare.
“Of course not,” Constance replied, but they both knew better. These were the only years either of them would belong to themselves, and only because they were in the middle of a war. Otherwise, she would have been married off to the highest bidder by now if her parents had their way.
“He’s horrendous.” She shook her head. Of all the things her parents had asked of her in her twenty years, this was the worst.
“He is,” Constance agreed. “I can’t believe he stayed all weekend. Did you see how much he ate? His father was even worse. There are rations for a reason.”
His size wasn’t as much of a concern to Scarlett as what he did with it. Marrying Henry Wadsworth would be the death of her. Not because he was a widely known philanderer or the embarrassment would do her in—that was to be expected. But even her scandal-managing mother couldn’t hide Alice, their housekeeper’s daughter, away fast enough to miss seeing the bruises on the young woman’s body this morning.
Not only had her father ignored the blatant abuse, but he then sat Scarlett right next to Henry at breakfast.
No wonder she hadn’t eaten a thing.
“I don’t care if the bloody title is sold out from under them, I’m not marrying him.” Her grip tightened on her luggage. They couldn’t make her—not legally. But they threw around the word “duty,” as if marrying that ogre would save the king himself from the grasp of the Nazis.
Even then, her love of king and country was enough to risk her life for the greater good, but this wasn’t about king or country.
It was about money.
“All he wants is the title,” Scarlett fumed as they made their way out of the village and started down the road that led to RAF Middle Wallop. “He thinks he can buy his way in.”