1916

I feel the hot, sharp, twist of terror before I even open my eyes.

My mind swims in shock, trying to process the rude awakening from sleep.

Jimmy's massive hand grabbing me, half awake, from the bunk and forcing me onto my feet. Luke's wild yelling. Men scrambling around me. Unearthly screaming. Loud gunfire. Bright flares.

Tommys pale face is illuminated by an unusually bright light and the sound of the loud blast rings through my ears.

I'm temporarily deafened and I stagger forwards straight into another soldier. He screams something I'm unable to comprehend into my face and shoves my gun into my limp hands.

I stand dumbly, unable to grasp what's happening as everyone rushes around me.

"The Germans are in the fucking trench!"

Luke's voice finally pierces my dumb confusion and I'm suddenly alert, as if I've been plunged into icy water.

A night raid.

I scramble for my gas mask and make to run out of the dug out after the other men. As a turn something catches my eye. Huddled up in a corner, hiding as best he can, as usual, is Private Goodham.

"You coward." I hiss. He flinches as I launch myself at him and grab him by the collar throwing him on all fours in front of me. I aim a sharp kick at his backside and with a look of pure loathing at me, he grabs his gun and scrambles out ahead of me.

It's pure mayhem. Men run blindly down the trenches, shouting conflicting information. If I didn't know better I would swear the Germans knew that out new commander arrived just hours ago, they couldn't have picked a better night for a raid. No one seems to know who is in charge.

I stand still in the chaos for a moment, trying to work out where I need to be. Most of the men seem to be rushing to the area where our machine guns are, the obvious worry being that our equipment will be stolen.

I make to follow them before hesitating. It seems like everyone is running to the same place, leaving gaps further down the trench. I try to shout out to the men running past me but my voice is lost in the mayhem.

I turn and begin to fight through the surge. The mud is sticky and I slip my way way along.

The surge thins out abruptly and I realise I'm alone in the darkness. It's quieter down here, the commotion is well behind me.

Away from the chaos I have time to think. I pause for a moment. The still air blankets me in its inky blackness and I realise that I'm completely vulnerable. This was a stupid idea. What if I stumble on a group of Germans? I wouldn't stand a chance. I turn quietly to make my way back, I need to tell the other-

The sound is so muffled that if I wasn't running on adrenaline alone, I'd probably miss it.

It comes from the darkest part of the trench ahead of me and I immediately flatten myself against the wall, slowly cocking my gun. There's a long silence. No one else is about and I consider edging my way back towards the light before it comes again. Muffled movement and a low voice speaking unfamiliar words.

The sudden flare of light is so bright it's like a flash of daylight. I flatten myself to the wall and take in as much as I can.

Just two of them. Stupidly, one seems to be holding both guns while the other stops rummaging in his backpack and jumps in fear of the sudden light. The older solider hisses a few harsh words at him and as the light begins to fade I step forward in a swift movement and aim my gun at chest and fire. The crack of the bullet is lost to the sound of another bright flare.

In my confusion I hesitate. The young German has time to grab his gun, more out of instinct than anything else.

He stares in horror at his comrades crumpling body, terror written on his face as he spins and aims his gun towards me.

He won't fire. Even if he does, he's shaking so much he'll probably miss.

He looks maybe Tommys age, 15 at the most. He's terrified. He knows, as much as I do, that he's not hardened enough. He can't shoot me as he looks directly into my eyes. He's too innocent, to young.

I need to shoot but my finger doesn't press against the trigger. We stare each other. He's trembling so hard that he can't focus his gun towards me.

"Bitte haben Sie Erbarmen." He whispers hoarsely.

His voice shakes over the words. I don't understand them but I know he's pleading with me, begging me not to kill him or make him kill me.

My mouth is dry and a tremour creeps into my hands.

I've done this before. Men have begged for mercy but I haven't shown it. I can't afford to. I can free him now, only to see myself die at his hand tomorrow.

"Bitte." He whispers. I can see the shine of tears in his eyes.

I steady my hand and aim my gun at his chest. He doesn't move and I falter as he looks at me in terror.

"Leave."

The word comes at whisper and he stares at me in confusion.

"Leave!" I shout. "Just fucking go!"

He seems to understand and with a last terrified look at me, unsure if he's misunderstood, he turns and begins to run, scrambling away into the night.

I turn shakily, knowing that what I've just done is unforgivable. How many soldiers will die at that young Germans hand in the next battle? What if my moment of softness means Luke's death, or Jimmy's?

A sound comes from next to me and I spin towards it, cocking my gun.

"Who's the coward?"

Goodhams voice seeps through the inky darkness.

"I saw what you did." Each poisonous, loaded, word creeps towards me.

I realise he's been hiding in a small, dark area.

"Hiding again Goodham?" My voice surprises me by not betraying my fear.

"I saw that. You let that German escape and run back to his trench... With an accurate lay out of ours to report back." I can hear the nasty smile in his voice.

"And what were you doing?" I ask roughly. "If you saw it, why didn't you back me up? Why didn't you shoot?"

There's a long pause and he curses under his breath.

"I'm sure you know what the punishment for cowardice is Goodham." I snap with more confidence. "God knows you've displayed enough of it since we got here to be shot several times over. You would have seen me dead just then while you hid away in your little corner."

"I suppose we're bound then. We need to keep each other's secret." His voice sounds lowly from somewhere in the pitch dark. "Just one secret though Styles. That's all we owe each other. I'll be sure to keep an eye on you... I don't forget an insult. I'll keep an eye on you and your little group of mates."

I hear him sniff loudly and a thick wad of spit hits my boot. Before I can react he has shuffled off.

The events of the night hit me all at once and I fall back, sinking down against the wall.

It's a long while before I have the strength to stand and my legs are shaking so much that I have to pause several times. It's the shock that comes after taking a life and perhaps as much the worry of sparing another life.

I past the firebay and into the reserve trench. Everyone is still on high alert and the small groups I pass are whispering amongst themselves. Finally I reach the company dugout. I need to report what happened tonight, or at least part of it.

I haven't met the latest commanding officer, no one has. I announce myself to the harassed looking sergeant and tell him my purpose in coming. He pauses before deciding that what I have to say warrants an audience with the main officer.

Of course, the tiny room is buzzing with activity and I glance round, starting in shock when I realise Goodham is here, more than that, he looks oddly relaxed, considering his lowly standing.

Of course he would be here. He'll want to ingrate himself to anyone in high command as soon as possible. The only decent thing about the last officer was that he couldn't stand Goodham.

I wonder what he's said about the events of tonight.

I stand to attention directly in front of the officers desk, my eyes trained above where he is sitting.

"Private Styles reporting as ordered sir." I salute and my eyes flick to his face.

I'm so utterly shocked that I forget myself and stare directly at him.

My shock is mirrored in his face but it's only a second before a cruel smirk twists his lips.

"Well who do we have here then?" He says quietly.

I can't speak.

I just stare in horror into the face of Lord Darlington.

***

1915

Evelyn's POV

Robert has his son.

It's not mine. I think I'd rather die than give him the thing that will make him most happy, even though I long for a child myself, the pleasure that it would give him would tarnish my own.

He has never found out about my various methods of preventing pregnancy but he seems to have given up all hope. It doesn't stop him. He wants to break me completely, I can see it in his eyes.

He visits my bed often and forces himself on me with such violence that my soul curls into itself and weeps.

In public he's charm personified. I'm the envy of every girl in London.

At first I thought he hated me because of Adeline.

It wasn't until I met Nicolas, his anxious, stammering younger brother, who flinched whenever Robert spoke to him, that I realised he just needed someone to exert power over, it was just his nature.

I think, were it not for the memory of Harry I would give up completely. But those memories keep me alive. It's a part of me he can't reach with his cruelty. He can sense it and it angers him more. Perhaps this private place in me that refuses to yield and be broken powers his anger, but the last part of the old me refuses to submit.

I never realised I could hate another being with such passion.

I have always considered myself strong but he breaks and degrades me to the degree that sometimes the lines blurs and I'm unsure who I hate more, him or myself.

His favourite mistress, if she is even worthy of such a title, bore him his son. Of course, Robert brought the child into our home, I'm sure to taunt me as much as anything. Adeline had passed a mere 6 months before and Robert gleefully reminded me of this as he took me into the sitting room to meet the child.

I'm ashamed to admit that I wanted to hate him. I needed someone in my isolated life to vent my anger at and this part of Robert seemed like the perfect candidate.

But of course I couldn't.

He looks like his father but I can't hate him for that accident of birth. When his mother walks through my home as if she is the mistress and my husband takes her out into the night to the theatre, or to a dance, I'm left in the house with their child.

His name is Robert but privately I call him Bobby, just to separate him from his father. His tiny face lights up when I enter the room and to his fathers extreme annoyance, he'll fight against his arms to reach me.

Harry and Bobby. One long gone, the other not entirely mine... But they are all I have.

Tonight they've gone out again and I'm sat playing with Bobby, pretending I'm unaware of the servants sympathetic gazes.

I don't care today.

I'm in pure bliss.

Robert announced tonight that he has purchased an officers position and will be leaving within the next month to join the war effort.

Of course, the wealthy buy these positions and are rather safe...

But perhaps... Perhaps he won't make it home.

Either way...

I pity the soldiers under his command, whoever those poor souls are.

***

AN- Dedicated to the lovely mrscaves

I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Just doing my usual thing of not updating forever then a million times in a week...

Also, in case anyone is interested, I had rough notes for this story and as most of the characters are here, the front cover of this story is our 5 soldiers. It took me forever to find exactly what I wanted (I'm not the best at covers but I like it!)

It is, in left to right order, Tommy, Luke, Harry, Pige and of course the gentle giant Jimmy at the back.

Finally, what do you think of the characters? Is there any you particularly like? I'm just curious as they will all feature more as it goes on, I'm just wondering who your favourites are or who you are most interested in.

Thanks for reading xxx