“She saw the wounded and keeled over, did she?” said the man, who had, thought Kate, no business at all being so disagreeable.
She was about to tell him so, when Emmie lifted her chin and said, with great dignity, “Her breakfast disagreed with her. It’s the sort of thing that could happen to anyone, really. It’s the war bread, you see.”
“You haven’t any smelling salts, have you?” Kate asked before they could digress into the culinary.
The Englishman pulled on his gloves with sharp, jerky movements. “I didn’t come equipped for swooning maidens. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“Swooning maidens?” Emmie gave a gurgle of a laugh. “You make us sound like something out of a Gilbert and Sullivan operetta. You know, the bit where the pirate king starts shouting about maidens and they all run about—well, anyway. But we’re not like that. We’re . . . les Collégiennes Américaines!”
The Englishman stared at Emmie, and then said, “Three Little Maids from School, then.”
“Seventeen, actually,” said Emmie. “We’ll be eighteen when our agriculturalist arrives. We’re a relief unit sent by Smith College.”
“Genius tutelary indeed. What are you meant to be relieving?”
“Eleven distressed villages in the area of Grécourt,” said Kate sharply. “Look, are you going to help or not?”
“Grécourt?”
“Yes. You can find it on that map over there. Are those our lines?” Emmie added, her attention caught by the American flags stuck to the map on the wall.
“You aren’t supposed to see that.” The British officer stepped between her and the map, nearly trampling on Miss Cooper in the process. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”
“If we’re that much in the way, we’ll move,” said Kate. She bent down next to Miss Cooper, prepared to lift her. “You needn’t concern yourself.”
“That’s not what I meant.” The British officer drew in a deep breath through his nose. There was rage in that voice, spilling out through the cultured vowels, the carefully controlled words. “This is no place for untrained amateurs. Not in this office, not in this hospital, and certainly not at Grécourt! Go see the Louvre. Walk along the Seine. But don’t get in the way of the real business of the war. You have no idea what you’re playing at.”
Emmie peered up at the angry officer. Her eyes were a very light blue, as faded as her pale lashes. They always made her look nearsighted, even though she wasn’t. “Were you a professional soldier before the war?”
The Brit checked, choking on his words. “Well, no—but that’s different. It’s not as though I had any choice in the matter.”
Emmie sat back on her heels, politely curious. “Were you constrained to enlist?”
“Was I—no!” He looked like he’d been slapped. Then the mustache quirked. “I’d hardly admit it if I were. But no. I volunteered. More fool I.”
“And so did we,” said Emmie quietly. Her hands moved gently against Miss Cooper’s hair. “We all do what we can. We know we haven’t much experience, but we mean to learn.”
He stared at her, wordlessly. Some of the tension seemed to drain away from his shoulders, leaving him looking gray and impossibly weary.
When he spoke, his voice was completely without inflection. “France is a dangerous schoolroom. If you’d take my advice—go home. Go home now. And forget you ever saw any of this.”
Emmie cocked her head at him. “It’s not the sort of thing one can just forget, is it? And, having seen it, how can one go home and do nothing?”
He gave a sharp laugh. “Quite easily. You’d be surprised how little one can do when one sets one’s mind to it.”
On the floor, Miss Cooper stirred, making a faint noise.
The British officer nodded at her. “I’ll send a nurse to you—for your fallen comrade.”
And he was gone, his footsteps echoing along the hall.
Miss Cooper moaned. Emmie bent over her. “Miss Cooper? Margaret?” To Kate, she said, “I think we tell the others that—that we needed to answer a call of nature.”
“Your friend is sending a nurse to us,” Kate pointed out.
To her surprise, Emmie’s cheeks turned a faint pink. “He’s not my friend. Just a . . . helpful stranger.”
“Helpful?” Kate had found him rude beyond bearing. “Or do all British men act like they own the earth?”