Page 52 of The Forgotten Boy

Apart from a few hurried, desperate encounters in whatever private corner could be snatched at a field hospital in France, Diana’s sexual experience was limited. She wouldn’t have thought a schoolmaster’s austere room with a single bed conducive to a high degree of pleasure. She would have thought wrong.

“You clearly know what you’re doing,” she laughed breathlessly, as he undid buttons and slid her blouse aside to kiss her bare shoulder.

“Are you flattering me, Nurse Neville?”

“It’s only flattery if it isn’t true.”

His laugh had an edge to it she’d never heard before; it made her breath catch.

With a catch in his own breathing, Joshua said, “You are so beautiful.”

“That is flattery. I’m not beautiful. Clarissa Somersby is beautiful. I’m simply passable.”

Joshua held her face in both hands and forced her to look at him, his hazel eyes dark with passion. “There is nothing the least bit simple about you, Diana Neville. And I have never wanted anything or anyone in my life the way I want you.”

After that, neither had breath enough for speaking.

When the world at last righted itself and Joshua lay propped on his side, watching her, he brushed a thumb over her wet cheek. “You’re crying.”

“Am I? I don’t know why.”

“You don’t have to know.”

It was such a relief not to have to explain or defend or even understand her own feelings. With Joshua cradling her close, Diana cried until she fell asleep with his hand resting on the curve of her hip.

They rose, reluctantly, when they heard the sounds of returning boys, voices high and excited.

“You’re sure your corridor is empty?” Diana asked, buttoning the high collar of her blouse.

“I’m sure. All the masters who share this wing went home for the holiday.”

He opened the door and checked, just to make sure. “Clear.”

She stepped into the doorway and kissed him, not wanting to stop. But if she kept clinging to him, they were going to end up right back on the bed and someone was going to miss her before long …

“I already miss you,” Joshua whispered into her hair.

“How sweet,” someone drawled from nearby.

Luther Weston leaned against one wall, arms crossed and with a bitter smile.

Joshua stepped away from her. “What do you want, Weston?”

“I don’t really remember now. What a pretty little secret I’ve stumbled upon.”

“This has nothing to do with you.”

“Maybe not, but I bet Miss Somersby would be interested. Doesn’t set a very good example for impressionable schoolboys, after all.”

“Enough,” Diana said in the tone that brought threatening soldiers under control. “I will speak to Miss Somersby myself about my own actions. I’m sure you don’t want to gain a reputation for carrying tales.”

“No, I’d much rather have a reputation for screwing the school nurse.”

Weston anticipated Joshua’s punch but not the vicious twist of the arm that followed when Weston blocked him. With a shove, Joshua pinned Weston against the wall, arm at his throat. “Apologize, and get the hell out of here before I really lose my temper.”

Looking over Joshua’s shoulder, Weston said, “I apologize, Miss Neville. I’m sure your reputation is deservedly unstained.”

Somehow the three of them managed to separate without further violence or insults. They even managed to appear at dinner, where Diana listened to the boys’ happy chatter about Hexham and the mayor in his robe and chains of office, and the bells ringing for the first time that some of them could ever remember.

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