Read No Regrets: A Novel of Love and Lies in World War II England (The Thornton Trilogy Book 1) for Free Online

into an account of the day he’d wounded his leg near Dunkirk and of a beautiful French girl who’d provided aid. It was a romantic anecdote, but Anne found it difficult to believe that he’d alter his life’s plan because of something so trivial. Her heart ached when he described the girl – Elise – and try as she might, she couldn’t help but feel intense envy when she read his description of golden curls and an angelic face. Anne had always been told that she was a rare beauty, but now she was reading a letter from the only man she’d ever loved, telling her he’d found a girl he thought even lovelier. He said Elise was his soulmate. Anne put her head down and sobbed. It didn’t seem possible that such a thing was happening. Not once in her entire life had she thought of marriage to any man besides Sloan. She’d met many men in her life – had gone through a London Season and been presented to the King. There’d been no shortage of suitors. But never had she been remotely interested in the multitude of young men who’d worn a path to her parent’s doorway.
    Sloan’s letter spoke of love, as though she didn’t know what it was. Of course she did. When Sloan returned from Oxford, the childish admiration she’d always felt, had subtly changed to a deeper and different sort of feeling. She knew what love was, because it was what she felt for Sloan - what she would always feel for him. And now he was throwing her away, for a fantasy about a French farm girl. The entire muddle was rubbish. She tore the letter to shreds and stuffed it in her waste bin.
    Anne fell upon her bed and sobbed hysterically. She felt as though someone had opened her chest and ripped out her heart. Heartbreak turned to anger, and anger to rage. She pounded the pillow with her small fists and mumbled words to herself.
    “How dare he? How dare he? He wants to throw me over for some farm girl from the French countryside. My God! Has he lost his mind? This can’t be happening. I have to think this through. I can’t let anger get in the way of intelligent thinking. I need to find a way – develop a plan. I’ll do whatever it takes. He’ll pay for what he’s doing. I want him to hurt as much as I’m hurting. I want his life to be ruined. He’ll be begging my forgiveness someday.”
     
    ***
     
    Sloan sincerely cared for Anne. But, love had become a very serious matter. He didn’t view it lightly. He’d always had the dream about his soulmate, never quite believing she existed. But, now fate had placed him at that small farmhouse near Bergues, and everything had changed. He knew that when he told his parents what had happened they’d consider it immature and senseless. “Such things don’t happen in the real world,” he’d be told. He’d been fond of Anne as a child, with the sort of affection often existing between small children. But he’d never told her he loved her. She’d been a sweet playmate. Nothing more. He was not in the slightest degree in love with her. Anne was dark-haired, and he preferred blondes; brunette beauty held no charm for him. He liked gentle, fair-haired women. A tender-heart was essential. Anne would never be described that way. She was strong-willed and a bit self-absorbed. Why, oh why had he proposed to her?
    Before leaving for the war, he’d visited Anne at her home, Meadowlands, to say goodbye. He remembered she’d been charming and picturesque as she stood next to the lilac trees. He told her he’d never see a lilac again without thinking of her. But that didn’t mean he loved her. He’d bent down and brushed her cheek with his lips, but it was not a lover’s kiss. He felt he was saying goodbye to his sister. Yet – yet, he was leaving for the war and had no idea how long he’d be gone. He was well-aware that she cared deeply for him. He didn’t want to go away with nothing to look forward to. Sloan knew it was foolish to continue thinking about his soulmate. So, in a moment of