Regimental Headquarters was temporarily located in a deserted monastery on the outskirts of Arniens. The monastery grounds were unkempt and overgrown, for they had been abandoned by the monks during the fighting of the previous autumn, and the rhododendron bushes had turned to jungle. The buildings were of red brick, mosscovered and with wistaria climbing to the grey roof. The bricks were pocked with old shell splinters.
A young second lieutenant met them at the front entrance.
You must be Michael Courtney, I am John Pearce, the general's ADC. Oh, hello. Michael shook hands. What happened to Nick van der Heever? Nick had been at school with Michael, and he had been General Courtney's aide-de-camp ever since the regiment arrived in France.
Oh, didn't you hear? John Pearce looked grave, the familiar expression so often these days when someone asked after an acquaintance. Nick bought the farm, I'm afraid. Oh God, no! Afraid so. He was up at the front with your uncle.
Sniper got him."But the lieutenant's attention was wavering. He couldn't keep his eyes off Centaine. Obligingly, Michael introduced him and then cut short the lieutenant's pantomime of admiration.
Where is my uncle?
He asked you to wait. The young lieutenant led them through to a small enclosed garden which had probably belonged to the abbot. There were climbing roses on the stone walls and a sun-dial on a sculptured plinth in the centre of the small neat lawn.
A table had been laid for three in the corner where the sun penetrated. Uncle Sean was keeping his usual style king's pattern silver and Stuart crystal, Michael noticed.
The general will be with you as soon as he can, but he asked me to warn you that it will be a very short lunch.
The spring offensive, you know-, The lieutenant made a gesture towards the decanter on the small serving table.
In the meantime, may I offer you a sherry, or something with claws? Centaine shook her head, but Michael nodded. Claws, please, he said. Although he loved his uncle as much as he did his own father, yet e always found his imminent presence after a long absence unnerving. He needed something to soothe those nerves.
The aide-de-camp poured Michael a whisky. Will you forgive me, but I do have a few things- Michael waved him away and took Centaine's arm.
Look, the buds are beginning to form on the roses and the narcissusShe leaned against him. Everything is coming to life again. Not everything, Michael contradicted softly.
For the soldier, spring is the time of death. Oh, Michel, she began, and then broke off and looked towards the glass doors behind him with an expression that made Michael turn swiftly.
A man had stepped through them, a tall man, erect and broad-shouldered. He stopped when he saw Centaine and looked at her with penetrating appraisal. His eyes were blue and his beard was thick but neatly trimmed in the same style as the king's.
Those are Michel's eyes! Centaine thought, staring back into them, but so much fiercer, she realized.
Uncle Sean! Michael cried and released her arm. He stepped forward to shake hands, and those fierce eyes swivelled to him and softened. My boy. He loves him- Centain understood. They love each other very deeply, and she studied the general's face. His skin was sun-darkened and tanned like leather, with deep creases at the corners of his mouth and around those incredible eyes. His nose was large, like Michael's, and hooked, his forehead broad and deep, and above it was a dense dark cap of hair, shot through with silver threads, that glistened in the spring sunlight.
They were talking earnestly, still gripping each other's hands, exchanging the vital assurances, and as Centaine watched them, the full extent of their resemblance came through to her.
They are the same, she realized, differing only in age and in force. More like father and son, than- The fierce blue eyes came back to her. So this is the younglady. May I present Mademoiselle de Thiry. Centaine, this is my uncle, General Sean Courtney. Michel has told me much, a great deal- Centaine stumbled over the English.
Speak Flemish! Michael cut in quickly.
Michel has told me all about you, she obeyed, and the general grinned delightedly.
You speak Afrikaans! he answered in that language.
When he smiled, his whole person changed. That savage, almost cruel streak that she had sensed seemed illusory.
It isn't Afrikaans, she denied, and they fell into an animated discussion and argument, and within the first few minutes Centaine found that she liked him, liked him for his resemblances to Michael, and for the vast differences that she detected between them.
Let's eat! Sean Courtney exclaimed, and took her arm. We have so little time- He seated her at the table.
Michael over here, and we'll let him carve the chicken. I'll take care of the wine. Sean gave them the toast. To the next time the three of us meet again, and they all drank it fervently, all too aware of what lay behind it, though here they were out of earshot of the guns.
They chatted easily, the general quickly and effortlessly smoothing over any uneasy silences, so that Centaine realized that for all his bluff exterior he was intuitively gracious, but always she was aware of the scrutiny of those eyes, the valuations and appraisals that were in progress behind them.
Very well, mon General, she thought defiantly, look all you want, but I am me and Michel is mine. And she lifted her chin and held his gaze, and answered him directly and without simperings or hesitations, until she saw him smile, and nod almost imperceptibly.
So this is the one Michael has chosen, Sean mused. I would have hoped for a girl of his own people, who spoke his own language and observed the same faith. I would have wanted to know a damned sight more about her before I gave my blessing. I would have made them take their time to consider each other and the consequences, but there is no time. Tomorrow or the next day, God knows what will happen. How can I spoil what might be their only moment of happiness ever? For a moment longer he looked at her, searching for signs of spite or meanness, for weakness or vanity, and saw only the small determined jaw, the mouth that could smile easily but just as easily harden, and the dark intelligent eyes. She's tough and she's proud, he decided, but I think she will be loyal, with strength to stay the full distance. So he smiled and nodded and saw her relax, and he saw also true affection and liking dawn in her eyes before he turned to Michael.
All right, my boy, you didn't come all this way to chew on this stringy little bird. Tell me why you came, and see if you can surprise me. Uncle Sean, I have asked Centaine to be my wife. Sean wiped his moustaches carefully and then laid down his napkin.
Do not spoil it for them, he warned himself. Don't put the smallest cloud on their joy.
He looked up at them and he began to smile.
You don't surprise me, you stun me! I had given up expecting you to do something sensible. He turned to Centaine. Of course, young lady, you had too much good sense to accept, didn't you? General, I hang my head when I admit that I did not.
I have accepted him. Sean looked fondly at Michael. Lucky brighter!
She is too darned good for you, but don't let her get away."Don't worry, sir.