Army of You & Me Read Free Page A

“How old is she?”
    “Can’t be more than twenty-eight. She doesn’t look it, but around that. And she has an old bullet wound on her right arm. She’s got dark brown twists down to her shoulders, eyes far too big for her face and... Well it sounds silly, but Betty Boop lips.”
    “Her name’s Rwandan in origin,” his father said eventually, rubbing his beard. Christ. The “R” word had finally emerged. His father was a mine of information when it came to every single one of his tours, but he never discussed Rwanda. “Madeline was one of the few people I felt I helped. Other than her and her father, I can only conclude that I contributed to the utter failure of the United Nations to protect the people of Rwanda. It’s the only time I have ever questioned my orders, my country, my position.” Major Goldsmith sighed heavily. “When I met that young girl, I swore I’d get her out of that godforsaken country.” He stopped, his voice shaking. With a bracing cough, he asked, “How is she?”
    “Educated. Very. I wouldn’t have known she wasn’t born here until you said. Runs her own shop. What did you do exactly?”
    His father shook his head again. “No. It’s not my story to tell, Captain. I am glad she’s alive and well and thriving. More than glad, relieved. It means I did something right.”
    Leaning back in his chair, Cain sighed. “What do you want to do? She wants to say thank you to you.”
    “She has. She was looking after you. Making sure you didn’t waste away...” His father eyed Cain’s frame.
    Cain grinned. “It’s all muscle, sir.”
    “Hmm. Since you’ve massively disappointed the poor girl, feel free to invite her to Hornsby Manor to say hello.”
    Madeline was as skittish as a horse. He doubted leaving London was in her plans, let alone being in a strange place with strange people. “I’ll go talk to her.”
    His father caught his eye. “You just wait one damned minute. Do you have designs on her?”
    “Sir, I’m disappointed that you’d think that way.” The look his father sent him tickled his funny bone. “I’m not doing anything!”
    “You’re a soldier, boy. I know you better than you know yourself.”
    Cain looked at his hands. “She’s a sweet girl.”
    “You’ve been divorced barely a year, Nathaniel. If I were you, I’d reflect on what went wrong rather than trying to diddle in a poor girl’s underwear.”
    Cain’s lip curled in disgust. “You make me sound like a paedo.”
    His father picked up his book. “I’ve warned you. Take it or leave it. On your way out, you couldn’t bring me a drop of whiskey, could you?”
    Cain raised his brows. “Why not? Thank you, sir.”
    His father shook his head and looked back down at his text. Well, while he was looking for property in London, he could always pay a visit to the sweet shop. See how Miss Mpoyi was thinking about things.

Chapter Three
     
     
    Madeline tapped her fingers on the counter. There was a gentleman coming to collect a box of raspberry vodka truffles for his wife. A box of twenty-four, one truffle for each year of their marriage. And she wasn’t finished with them. Still. All because she kept thinking Cain would come back.
    It had been a good two weeks since he’d turned up unannounced, but he’d never been far from her thoughts. In fact, she found it near impossible to do anything but think about him, especially after he wrote to her again. It was a brief note, inviting her to Cambridgeshire to meet his father and give her thanks in person, and saying that he would love to see her. The word love kept repeating over and over in her head, as if it meant something beyond the casual way it was thrown around these days.
    Something about him unsettled her. Not just because he looked nothing like his father but... they’d had skin-to-skin contact and for the first time, that touch didn’t have the taint of mistrust. He didn’t worry her the way being alone with other men did. Trust had