“Sweetheart, you’re an actual aristocrat under this uniform.” From what he’d been able to piece together between what little she told him about her family and the details Constance was more than willing to part with, the life Scarlett led as a WAAF officer was so different from her pre-war lifestyle that the two couldn’t be compared.
She blinked. “My parents are.”
He laughed. “And the difference is?”
“Well, I don’t have any brothers, so the title will go into abeyance once my father passes,” she answered with a shrug. “Constance and I are seen as equal under the law, so unless one of us declines the title, neither of us will inherit it. We’ve both decided not to decline, which is rather brilliant when you think about it.” A corner of her mouth lifted in a secretive smile, making him wish they were alone and far from in public.
“You’ve decided to fight for it?” English peerage was so far beyond his area of expertise that he didn’t pretend to understand.
“No.” Her hand slid up his shoulder and over the collar of his uniform until she cupped the back of his neck. He felt her touch in every nerve of his body. “We decided not to fight for it by simply not declining it. Neither of us wants it. Constance is engaged to Edward, who will inherit his own, so our parents are pleased, and I want nothing to do with it.” She shook her head. “We made a vow when we were younger. See?” She lifted her hand, showing a faint line of a scar down her palm. “It was all very dramatic.”
His head tilted slightly as he absorbed her words. “And what do you want, Scarlett?”
The record changed, and the tempo picked up, but they stayed at the same, gentle sway at the edge of the floor, carving out their own little ballad.
“Right now, I want to dance with you,” she answered, stroking her fingers down his neck.
“I can give you that.” Man, it was those eyes that just about knocked him on his ass every time. She could have asked for the moon, and he would have flown his Spitfire into the stratosphere just to get her to look at him like she was right now.
When that song ended, they reluctantly left the floor, holding hands as they approached the table.
“Seven fifteen,” Constance noted with a small grimace. “It’s about time we get going, isn’t it?” She stood and handed Scarlett her hat.
“It is,” Scarlett agreed. “Especially since we’ll need to drop by the airfield for Jameson and Howard.” She turned to Christine, who was still consumed by the newspaper. “Christine?”
She startled. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was just reading about the bombing in Sussex.”
Well, that certainly sobered the mood. Jameson’s fingers tightened slightly around Scarlett’s. “Well, I guess I’ll drive and you read,” he offered with a tight smile.
Christine nodded, and they all made their way to the car. Tonight, neither he nor Howard had been able to secure their company’s car, but Scarlett had.
“You don’t mind dropping us by the airfield?” he asked as he held the front passenger door open for her.
“Not at all,” she promised, her hand skimming along his waist as she slid into the seat. “It will give me another ten minutes with you, and who knows when I’ll get that again.”
He nodded, then shut the door once she was in, wishing she’d have preferred Constance, Christine, or even Howard drove instead of him so he could have tucked her in tight against him in the back seat. Instead, he took the wheel and began the drive to the airfield. This was always when the mood shifted between them, when they both mentally prepared for what their nights had in store while they’d be apart.
The sun was starting to set earlier now that they were in the middle of August, but he’d still have a healthy amount of light for takeoff in an hour.
“How about some music?” Constance asked, breaking the silence.
“The radio in this one is broken,” Scarlett said. “Looks like one of us will have to sing.”
Jameson smiled, shaking his head. The girl had a dry sense of humor, and he couldn’t get enough of it.
“Here, I’ll read. May I?” Howard asked, and Jameson heard the paper shifting hands. “I have five dollars that says I can get everyone to sleep before we reach the airfield with this thing.” Howard’s eyebrows shot up in the rearview. “Except you, Stanton. You’d better stay awake.”
“On it,” Jameson responded as they pulled onto the station. Once they were through the gate, he took Scarlett’s hand, shaking his head at the mundane tone Howard used to read an article about supply shortages.
“He really might put me to sleep,” Scarlett whispered.
Jameson squeezed her hand.
“Coming to the aid of our troops is none other than the head of Wadsworth Shipping, George Wadsworth—” Howard continued.
Scarlett stiffened at his side.
“—who has more than one merger to celebrate with a confirmed source stating that his oldest son, Henry, is to be engaged to the oldest daughter of Baron and Lady Wright…”
Scarlett gasped, covering her mouth with the hand he wasn’t holding.
“Oh God,” Constance muttered.
Jameson felt the earth beneath him shift, and his stomach bottomed out. It can’t be.
Howard’s solemn gaze met his in the rearview, and he knew it was.
“Well, surely there’s more than one Wright in the country,” Christine muttered, yanking the paper back from Howard. “Henry is to be engaged to the oldest daughter of Baron and Lady Wright, Scarlett…” Christine fell quiet as she glanced toward Scarlett.
“Please, read the rest,” Jameson snapped. What the hell? Had she played him for a fool? Or had he been a fool all along?
“Um…Scarlett,” she continued to read, “who is currently serving in His Majesties’ Women’s Auxiliary Air Force. Both of Wright’s daughters joined the fight last year and were commissioned as officers.” The paper crinkled. “The rest is about the munitions,” she finished softly, just in time for him to park the car at the edge of the lot that faced the narrow end of all three hangers.
“Looks like you lost that five dollars, Howard, because we’re all wide awake.” Jameson killed the engine and threw open the door. She was already in a relationship and about to be engaged. While he’d been falling in love with her, she’d been using him for what? A little entertainment? He glanced to the runway at his left, ready to launch, to leave the ground behind for a few hours.
…
Jameson slammed the door, and the sound jarred Scarlett from her shock. She flew out of the car, but he was halfway down the pavement to the hangar by the time she caught up with him. “Jameson! Wait!”