The Ice Swan by J'nell Ciesielski

Author:J'nell Ciesielski
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2021-07-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

The Calais port was jammed cheek to jowl with Red Cross ships, makeshift hospitals, and ambulances. Wounded soldiers were propped against cargo boxes as they waited to hobble up the gangways while the more serious cases lay on stretchers with nurses dotting among them. The days of armistice celebration had waned to the excruciating task of transporting the weary combatants home.

The ship swayed gently as Wynn stood on the deck with Svetlana after seeing her and her family’s things stowed safely in their room. It was cramped, but it would do to make the voyage from Calais to Portsmouth. Every other available space, including the deck, was taken up by wounded Tommies.

“Will you not come with us? Your mother needs you.” Dressed in a black frock from his mother’s wardrobe, Svetlana stood stark against the white bandages and stained uniforms surrounding them.

“I gave my word to the hospital to remain through the end of the year. I won’t abandon my patients.”

“You would not be abandoning them. You have a duty from your brother now as well.”

“A dukedom I never wanted. My work was never at the estate carrying around those titles. It’s always been in surgery.” He snorted. “Little good that’s done for my brother.”

“There was nothing you could have done for him.”

“That’s because there was no body to repair. That shell obliterated everything. I have nothing to take back to our mother.”

Heads turned their direction at the harshness in his voice. Wynn took a deep breath and gripped the rail. Rage and sadness spiraled through him until he could no longer discern up from down. Hugh had been killed leading a charge on some muddy field one week before the armistice. He’d escaped the war without a scratch only to be cut down by a screaming shell. His commander had written a glowing report of Hugh’s heroism and selfless leadership that served as an inspiration to his men. Hugh had always been the shining example. His memory was the only thing left to shine, and the loss pierced Wynn to the core.

Svetlana stepped closer, blocking off the curious stares. “Your desire to stay is admirable, but responsibilities often take us from where we would like best to remain. You cannot hide forever.”

“Is that what you Russians call grief consolation?”

“Russians console their grief with vodka. It makes for miserable funerals.”

“And here I thought it was the deaths.”

“I can tell you from experience that hiding will not make your sorrow disappear.” She rested her hand on his arm. Her wedding band made a slight bump from under her glove. “Come with us, Wynn. See to your mother. Honor your brother. Tend to the wounded who are arriving in Britain every day.”

He wanted to say yes. Wanted to leave behind the death and destruction that clung to the very air here. He wanted to take his new bride home to meet his mother and show her the peace he knew as a boy growing up at Thornhill. Who was he kidding? There was no peace to be found there now.

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