Perilous Love

Thank you for having me Alethea.

When I retired and ready to start writing my first book – fingers poised over the keyboard – I had no idea what to write about. It was by chance I read an interesting article on how a person’s true character emerges when faced with extreme danger or life changing circumstances. For example, the tough he-man turns to water and runs, the unassuming persons steps up and takes control. A story began forming in my head. Then I came across my grandfather’s World War One military records of his time in Belgium and France. He came home but it was many years before he could talk about how terrible it was. I began researching the events leading up to the German invasion of Belgium in August 1914 and what followed was called The Rape of Belgium. There in front of me were the appalling atrocities my grandfather spoke about.  I had the setting for my book, Perilous Love.

Blurb –

Adrian Bryce’s world of wealth and beautiful women comes to an end when he’s ordered by the British government to accompany his estranged wife Gabrielle to Belgium. It is essential he find proof her uncle is supporting the German Empire’s preparation for war. What Adrian discovers will plunge he and Gabrielle into a nightmare of betrayal, forcing them to run for their lives as the Germans cross the border. Facing danger, brutality and injury, and painful truths about themselves, they reach safety as two different people. Waiting for them are charges of treason and a woman who’ll stop at nothing to see Adrian dead. 

Excerpt –

The first soft shafts of sunlight woke Adrian. The ground was hard, and he’d barely slept because of his throbbing foot and he was as thirsty as hell. He hobbled to the canal and drank thirstily then dipped both his feet into the cold water, letting out a sigh as the pain eased. Gabrielle knelt at the water’s edge beside him and washed her face and pushed her wet fingers through her hair to slick down the untidy curls.

 Her voice was low and angry. ‘What was she like?’

‘What are you talking about?’ He scowled, dreading what was coming.

‘Sigrid, Maryanne, whatever her name was,’ she snapped back.

‘What the hell are you trying to do Gaby? Force an argument?

‘No, I’m not forcing an argument. I really want to know! You preferred that woman’s company to mine and your children’s and because of her and my uncle and your unbelievable stupidity, two innocent people have died, and we are forced to rely on each other to stay alive.  Are you proud of yourself? And was her beauty and obvious bedroom expertise worth all of this?’

Adrian turned his head away, angry and embarrassed.

 ‘I’m waiting,’ she persisted. I presume you also showered her with gifts and expensive baubles while we would be lucky to see you on our birthdays.’

 Something snapped inside him. He’d had enough of her barbs and sarcasm.

Furious, he turned to face her. ‘If I could get up and walk away, I would. Just what are you trying to achieve? We’ve avoided capture by the skin of our teeth, we have no idea how to get away, the Germans are pouring into Belgium, thousands will be killed and you want to know if I showered her with gifts. Why don’t we concentrate on getting out of here and then you will be free of me?  Now for Christ’s sake leave it alone.’

 ‘You want to get up and walk away?’ her voice dripped scorn. ‘Did I walk away from that lonely, empty life, in that big lonely house? Making excuses to your children, visiting neighbours on my own. Did I show such contempt for my marriage vows?’

‘You forgot to mention entertaining Charlton in my home,’ he snarled and flinched as Gabrielle’s hand slapped his face.

‘Yes, your home.’ Gabrielle yelled. ‘I may have lived there and given birth to your children there, but it was always your home. I pray to God we will return to England and you can enjoy your home with your expensive treacherous harlots!’  Her hands clenched into fists. ‘Yes! Brian did share my bed. You were never there, you couldn’t care less about me or our children, you were so besotted with that German harlot’s devious charms you had no idea what was going on. She was exceptionally clever, and you were exceptionally stupid.

Adrian rubbed his cheek and pointed his finger at her. ‘If you hit me again, you will be sorry. You want to know what she was like. She had long wavy auburn hair, a figure that made men’s eyes water and yes, she had expertise in the bedroom. She could drink me under the table and she could discuss politics like a man. She was exceptionally clever and yes you are right, I was exceptionally stupid, because I hadn’t a clue she was German or she’d bedded a cabinet minister or she’d been on other assignments for your uncle. I hope I’ve answered all your questions and I don’t give a damn whether you believe me or not, but I’m bloody ashamed of myself. And I hope to God we’ll get back to England, so you can do whatever you want and I won’t have to listen to your harping sarcastic tongue. Are you happy now?

‘Oh yes, very happy, thank you. Who wouldn’t be, sitting with you on the damp ground beside a canal without food or clean clothes,’ her eyes glittered with contempt, ‘How does it feel that you, a cabinet minister and my uncle shared her? I wonder if she kept an inventory of her jewellery and gifts to remember who gave her what.’

He pulled his feet from the water and stood up. ‘I’m not listening to your ranting, nor am I waiting here for them to find me.’

‘You can’t face the truth, can you?’ she shouted at him. ‘Well, unpleasant as it is, you need me and I need you to survive. When we reach safety, you can go back to the life you enjoyed with your sophisticated women without the inconvenience of an unwanted wife.  And if we get out of here, I don’t want anything from you. Not even a Christmas card.’ Her lip curled.  ‘A gentleman never breaks a business contract, but it’s of no consequence to break your marriage vows.’

 Adrian reached down and roughly pulled her up to face him, his eyes black with fury.

‘I can’t face the truth? It’s a pity you didn’t meet and marry that useless fop Charlton eight years ago, because he’d have been the target for your sainted uncle’s lunacy instead of me!  Christ, you haven’t shut up about your miserable marriage but look where it’s got me!  Stitched up like a bloody weaver’s loom, set up as a traitor, hiding like a fugitive. And why?  Because I had the temerity to marry you!’ He turned his back and hobbled over to the grazing horse. ‘I’m leaving, are you coming with me or staying here?’

Gabrielle’s face mirrored the shock she felt at Adrian’s words. Her foot lashed out sending a small log into the water and she walked up to Adrian, her fists clenched, then without warning she burst into tears.

‘I have no choice.’ Her voice was raw with emotion. ‘All I want is to get out of Belgium and go back to my children and never see you again!’

Adrian gripped her arms, his fingers digging into her flesh. ‘You’ll get your bloody freedom one way or the other. If we get out of this, I’ll gladly give it. If I’m shot, you can play the grieving widow for a day or two. Now shut up and help me get this horse into the shafts.’

He heaved himself into the driving seat, knowing damn well they were suffering huge reactions to the events they had witnessed. His insides were ripped apart enough without her rubbing his face in it again and again. How could he have been so bloody naive?  It wouldn’t matter how loudly he protested his innocence, the fact remained his mistress had wheedled far too much information from him and a senior government minister named Edmund. Good God! Sir Edmund Charters! Close to the Prime Minister, related to the Foreign Minister. That old fool must be nearly seventy and you, Bryce, are the biggest fool of them all

Buy links -

https://www.amazon.com.au/Perilous-Love-Jan-Selbourne-ebook/dp/B07BDN985Q/

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/39289507-perilous-love

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/perilous-love-jan-selbourne/1128168840

Author links -

https://www.facebook.com/jan.selbourne/

https://www.linkedin.com/in/jan-selbourne-2817b6140/

https://twitter.com/JanSelbourne

https://nomadauthors.com/

 

Author bio -

Jan Selbourne grew up in Melbourne, Australia. Her love of literature and history began as soon as she could read and hold a pen. Her career started in the dusty world of ledgers and accounting then a working holiday in the UK brought the history to life. Now retired, Jan can indulge her love of writing and travel. She has two adult children and lives near Maitland, New South Wales.