War Orphans by Lizzie Lane

by—’
    ‘I do not.’
    ‘Just a salary then!’
    Her anger was unabated. That poor cat. Those poor kittens.
    He hesitated as though disinclined to respond, but instead he found himself wanting to impress her.
    ‘I do not need a salary, I have a private income. Though I have tried a number of professions. In time I will find the one that suits me best. It is best to do work at what you enjoy, then it is not work, yes?’
    Sally frowned, not so sure now that she should be angry but unwilling to back down just yet.
    ‘And in the meantime you’re collecting pets for the government’s destruction programme.’
    ‘Not at all. I’m here on behalf of my aunt, Lady Ambrose-DeVere. She has it in mind to rescue as many animals as she can.’
    ‘Rescue?’
    ‘That is her aim. She has a very big house and outbuildings and will take in as many as she can. She is also rich and not without influence. I have come from France to help her.’
    Sally took a breath. She’d heard his voice, noted the careful way each word was spoken, but his accent was almost perfect, and she didn’t notice the way some of his words were inflected until he called her attention to it.
    ‘I’m sorry. I had no business speaking to you like that. It’s just that . . . well . . . all this turmoil. So many have been taken. They’re probably already dead.’
    The man shook his head sadly. ‘I agree with you. It is a great pity. This is a very sad time.’
    ‘I’m sorry I mistook you for one of those people who put them to sleep.’
    His eyes twinkled. ‘There is no need to apologise. I enjoyed fencing words with you but hope I never have to fight you with a sword. Your words are sharp enough.’
    ‘I’m sorry. I really am.’
    She felt her face reddening, not just because she felt a fool but because of the way he was looking at her.
    ‘You said your aunt is Lady Ambrose?’
    He nodded. ‘That’s right. My aunt has set up a facility providing safety until such time as this madness is over. I was going to offer Mrs Evans a place for her animals. We do our best to find homes for them . . .’
    Although full of sadness his voice was warm.
    ‘So you’re from France?’
    He inclined his head. ‘That is where my home is, yes. Brittany.’
    Feeling tongue-tied, Sally could only nod in response.
    He smiled at her. ‘I had better be going.’ He looked as though a sudden thought had crossed his mind. ‘Can I leave you a card just in case you hear of any other person wanting sanctuary for their animals?’ He took out a pen from his jacket pocket and scribbled something on the back of it.
    Sally wasn’t aware of anyone close to her having a cat or dog but she took one of the cards anyway. The name on the card was Lady Ambrose-DeVere. The house was Ambrose House, a place she knew was surrounded by acres of land and a high wall; she had only glanced at from the top of a double-decker bus.
    ‘I will bear it in mind. I only knew of her as Lady Ambrose. I didn’t know there was a French connection.’
    An intoxicating laugh rumbled in his throat. ‘For better or worse, there really is. I am from the DeVere side of the family.I know France better than I know England. In fact you could say that I am a stranger here. I know nobody.’
    ‘Hopefully you won’t be a stranger for long.’
    What he said next took her completely by surprise.
    ‘Excuse me for asking, but would you like to have dinner with me one night?’
    To her own surprise, Sally found herself saying yes without hesitation.
    He looked pleased. ‘Tomorrow? I have a car. We will go into town? Yes?’
    Yes. She couldn’t help herself. She said yes.
    After he’d gone she turned back into the house, heading for the living room at the back in something of a daze. What in heaven’s name had happened out there on the doorstep?
    Her father was sitting in his chair reading the newspaper and so failed to notice the dazed look on her face. For him, nothing would appear to have changed. Jerking