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  Published by The Hartwood Publishing Group, LLC,

  Hartwood Publishing, Phoenix, Arizona

  www.hartwoodpublishing.com

  Isabella’s Airman

  Copyright © 2015 by Sofia Grey

  Digital Release: June 2015

  Cover Artist: Georgia Woods

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Isabella’s Airman by Sofia Grey

  She’ll rewrite history to save him.

  Time travel student Isabella Gillman is about to embark on her most challenging assignment--leaping back to 1941 to observe World War II. The rules are simple: don’t get emotionally involved, and don’t interfere.

  She breaks the first rule when she falls in love with rear-gunner Davy Porteous. The second is on its way out as well when she realizes history says he won’t survive the war. Torn between the fundamental laws of her society and the man she loves, Isabella faces a harsh reality: does she risk both their lives for a future that may not happen?

  She can’t predict the results if she corrupts the timelines, but without her actions, Davy is out of time.

  Dedication

  To my lovely and supportive critique partner, Allyson, and my amazing beta readers, TigerLilyReader and Janet, for their detailed feedback.

  Thanks also to Elise, who critiqued the first draft of this story. Hope you still like it!

  Author Notes

  Writing a novel set mainly in a historical period can be tricky, but this era is well documented with plenty of information available.

  At the end though, this is a work of fiction, and if I’ve taken a few minor liberties, it has been to make this a stronger story.

  Any mistakes are my own.

  PART I—Isabella

  Prologue

  New Oxford, the year 2450

  Oh God. It was my turn next.

  I swallowed hard and tried to pretend I was listening intently, while instead, I watched my best friend flirting with the archivist. How did she do that? She signed the data pad with a flourish and then beamed at me. “We’re ready, aren’t we, Isabella?”

  Ready? To travel five hundred years back in time? Would I ever be ready?

  The archivist tugged at his collar, clearly flustered by Juliet’s attention and then turned to me. He ran through his checklist while I nodded and murmured yes to everything: clothes and luggage, identity cards and papers for the period, vaccinations, research on the role I’d be taking, a plausible background story.

  In every way that met the official criteria, we were ready to visit England during World War Two.

  Our destination was Royal Air Force Mildenhall, a military aerodrome nestled in a quiet part of rural England. Several squadrons of Wellington bombers had been stationed there, and we’d studied the location as much as we could. We hoped to fit into the busy community without attracting undue attention. There was plenty of documented history available, but nothing could substitute for actually visiting the period.

  Social History classes were one of the most popular at our university, and the final semester field trips were oversubscribed every year. It was undoubtedly Juliet’s popularity with the staff that ensured our allocation.

  She winked at me as the archivist programmed in the details of the time jump. Like every university field trip, the students always used them as an opportunity to shake loose, but she wanted more. She had her own agenda, and it was nothing to do with social history classes.

  Chapter One

  Suffolk, England, May 1941

  The last rays of daylight made the woman’s hair glow, the blonde strands gleaming like a halo and tumbling down to her shoulders. His face was obscured, just a glimpse of short, dark hair and pale skin. Their bodies were pressed together, and I watched as they shifted, her back now turned against the wall. His long, dark blue trench coat wrapped around them and hid their movements from view. The breath caught in my throat. Were they going to have sex? Here? In the dirty, cobbled street behind the pub?

  I’d never seen anyone kissing before. Not really kissing.

  I’d seen pictures, of course—and video footage of old-time movie stars, but seeing it in real life…I couldn’t take my eyes off them. How did she manage to breathe? Maybe those little whimpering noises were fear, or pain? He looked more as though he were trying to devour her. Despite my embarrassment if I was caught watching, I couldn’t help myself. I crept closer, still lurking in the shadows, but near enough to see them clearly.

  Her eyes were closed, pale lashes resting against porcelain cheeks. She reminded me of the china dolls my grandmother collected. I could see him better now, the hair cut tight on the back of his head, fine, inky hairs resting against the nape of his neck, and a flash of blue shirt collar riding up above the coat. Behind me was a steady buzz of conversation, glasses chinking, and an occasional burst of laughter from the people drinking in the pub. The windows were thrown open onto the surprisingly warm spring evening.

  The woman’s little whimpers rose in pitch, and she moaned. “Peter… God… Peter…”

  I stood just a few strides away, but they were oblivious to me. A hand touching my arm made me leap almost out of my skin. “Bella,” Juliet whispered to me, “it’s time to go. I’ve arranged a ride for us.” She paused, her baby blue eyes opening wide as she saw the couple. “Jesus, are they…?”

  The blonde gasped, her slender fingers tangling in his short hair, his hands now flat against the wall. From the rhythmic movements of his coat, I figured that yes, they were. “They’re screwing,” I replied, with a hint of smugness as I remembered one of the slang expressions we’d been taught in social history classes.

  Juliet tsked her frustration. “The ride won’t wait. We need to get moving.” She grinned with the impish expression that endeared her to every single one of our tutors. “With luck, we might get to experience it for ourselves while we’re here.”

  •●•

  To say England in 1941 was vastly different to what I’d expected would be the understatement of the century. It could have been a different planet. Life in the mid-2400’s was so much…quieter. The constant noise here assaulted my eardrums. Everything from the mode of transportation to the shrill voices of the people—I was thankful to have been given an assignment well away from the city of London. God only knew how I’d cope with the regular pounding of enemy aircraft on top of everything else.

  I stared at the open-backed truck, filled to capacity with men in uniform. Royal Air Force uniforms. Juliet giggled at my discomfort and winked. “I told you I’d organized a ride for us.” Her smile broadened a fraction. “Take your pick. Whose lap do you want to sit on?” As I gazed open-mouthed, she stretched out one hand and with an ease that defied logic, allowed herself to be lifted into the back of the wagon. The knee-length skirt she wore matched mine, yet I struggled to walk without tugging at it every few steps. The damn thing kept r
iding up and exposing the stockings underneath, and they were a whole new experience. Little metal clips held them in place, except mine kept popping open, allowing the fine cotton stockings to drift down to my knees on a regular basis.

  Juliet settled on the lap of a handsome young buck with short, fair hair a similar shade to her own. He fingered her long, heavy plait, twisting the end through his fingers as his friends joked and called out.

  “I like to have something to hang on to.” His grin showed white, even teeth and tiny laughter lines around his eyes. Three V-shaped stripes on the upper arm of his jacket; he would be a sergeant. I was sure the winged badge denoted aircrew. It might even be a pilot badge, I couldn’t remember. There had been so much to learn before we were allowed to enter this time period.

  I snapped my attention back to the hands now reaching out to me and let myself be hauled up to join the mass of bodies. I longed, not for the first time, to be even half as elegant as Juliet. And now, standing precariously in the crowded truck, I had to find somewhere to sit, preferably without stepping on too many people in the process.

  “Here, lassie.” A ginger-haired giant shoved his colleague to one side and made a space for me. “Come and join us, I promise we won’t bite. Aye, Davy?” The young man beside him glanced up and met my eyes. It was as though he’d only just noticed us.

  “Aye,” he echoed, in a charming, lilting accent. I smiled politely and squeezed between them, tugging again at my skirt and watching, helpless, as one of my stockings slithered down my thigh. I snatched at the top of it before I exposed any more skin. I felt naked as it was, unused to showing so much of my legs. In my time period, our bodies were always covered. It was just one of the many ways society had changed. My face burned as I tried to hold the offending stocking in place. How had I ever thought I could cope with this field trip?

  The giant held out his paw to me. “Jock Campbell at your service.”

  Trying to hide my reluctance, I carefully shook his hand. “I’m Isabella.” On my other side, the airman had removed his jacket, and he now draped it carefully across my knees. I turned to look at him and met his stare again. “Isabella Gillman.” I hesitated a moment. “Thank you,” I whispered. A fierce red flush stole across his cheeks, already dark with stubble. His eyes held my attention—dark gray with gold specks across the irises. I’d never seen eyes like them before.

  He looked young to be in uniform, barely older than me, and I recalled with a pang how many soldiers and airmen had died in this war. The countless Davys and Jocks that had given their lives. Seeing them in person—living, breathing people instead of names on a page—shook me.

  I chewed on my bottom lip, unsure how to proceed, how to start a conversation with the man at my side.

  “You’re welcome.” A smile hovered at the edge of his lips, and for the second time in an hour, I caught my breath. He was beautiful. Ebony hair sprang from his head in a mass of tight, short curls. The thick black brows could have been forbidding, but the dancing eyes beneath them lit up his face. A strong, determined chin, cheekbones so sharp I could cut myself. And his lips…I couldn’t stop myself from staring at him.

  “I’m Davy Porteous, by the way.” He looked familiar. Perhaps I’d seen his picture in the textbooks? His name rang a bell too. Porteous. Oh God, please don’t let him be one of them…

  “Isabella and I, we’re going to be temporary staff in the kitchens. Are all of you based at RAF Mildenhall?” Juliet smiled at the men around us.

  “Aye, lassie.” That was Jock again; his booming voice sounded good natured and edged with humor. “You’ll have the pleasure of seeing us all traipsing through the Airmen’s Mess.”

  The truck jolted suddenly. We were flung to the left and then to the right as it dipped and bounced over the road. I fell into Davy, my hands on his hard, muscled chest, while his fingers brushed my breast. Another lurch and his uniform jacket fell to my feet. Davy and I both reached down, grabbing it at the same time. Our hands touched for an instant. Sparks seemed to fly between us. I tried to sit upright again and swayed against his chest as another judder sent us flying.

  “Pot holes,” Davy said, his eyes never leaving my face. My cheeks burned. I clutched his jacket to me and quickly looked around. To my relief, nobody seemed to notice.

  Juliet’s guy spoke up. “We’re all with one-four-nine bomber squadron. I’m Teddy Burrell, second pilot, C-for-Charlie. With the exception of our pilot, the rest of our crew is here.” One hand waved toward the men who sat around me. Jock and a couple of others nodded. Davy glanced up and then ducked his head, eyes veering back to me, shy smile in place.

  My heart plummeted. C-for-Charlie. Lost with all crew after a failed bombing run. That’s why I knew his name.

  Chapter Two

  I was relieved to see the kitchens were as we’d been briefed. Different, more primitive equipment than we were used to, and foods that were wholly unfamiliar, but we had a broad idea of what to do. It seemed basic cleaning and food serving had changed little in five hundred years.

  Mrs. Latham, the cook in charge, fell upon us almost crying with delight. Her last two assistants had left without notice, she explained rapidly. Could we please start work straight away? As soon as we’d been assigned bunks, we were given aprons and head scarves and set to work. Juliet loaded up a machine that would peel a mountain of potatoes, while I mopped floors and cleaned surfaces.

  In the bustling kitchen, nobody gave any thought to the way we spoke a little differently or hesitated with our jobs. Over tea and a slice of chewy bread, we sat for ten minutes and compared notes.

  “I’m seeing Teddy tomorrow,” confided Juliet, a sparkling grin dancing across her pretty face.

  “Tomorrow?” I squeaked. When had she even had time to arrange a date with him?

  She nodded, and sipped the tea, looking every inch at home. “If they’re not on ops tomorrow night, he’ll take me out after breakfast for a ride on his motorbike.”

  If they were flying tomorrow, Davy would be gone as well. I remembered his steady gaze and the gentle way he covered my errant stocking. “Will you be able to get away? I mean, aren’t we supposed to be working?”

  She shrugged. “Mrs. Latham said it would be fine, as long as I’m back for the afternoon shift.” She leaned closer. “I’m thinking I might seduce him.”

  I had no doubt about it. “That’s fast.”

  “We only have two weeks, Bella. If you want to experience sex, this might be your only opportunity.”

  In our society, most people didn’t have physical relationships. Intimacy was rare. A couple had to be approved by the Council before they could enter into a formal relationship. Further permission had to be sought to raise a child, and they were usually conceived through insemination processes. Only wild people, deviants, still paired off in the old fashioned way. Sex had become a thing of the past, hence Juliet’s intention to sample it along with a real slice of history. Only difference was, there wouldn’t be any exam paper on that exercise.

  Thinking again of Davy and his delicious smile, I quizzed Juliet. “How are you going to do it? What are you going to say?”

  “I’m going to kiss him. Then I’m going to remind him he might only have days left to live, and how much I want to have sex with him. Just in case he doesn’t come back tomorrow night.”

  I gaped. “Don’t you need to be a little more subtle?” To give her credit, she blushed.

  “Well, not that direct, then. But I know he wants me, he’s already said so.”

  Mrs. Latham called us back to work, and I returned to my cleaning, thinking back over Juliet and how she made it sound so easy. I couldn’t imagine being so confident.

  Later, as I emptied my bucket of dirty water into an outside drain, I heard a soft cough behind me in the near darkness. I whirled around and almost tripped over my mop. It was Juliet’s airman with somebody standing by his shoulder. I squinted, trying to make him out.

  “Is Jules with you?”
/>   “Umm, no.” Jules? We’d been here a matter of hours and she already had a nickname? “I can get her for you, though.”

  She was already behind me, and I felt her hand on my arm. “Hello, Teddy.” Her voice was breathy and excited.

  He stepped forward, his companion remaining in the shadows. With his hands stuck deep into his pockets, jacket unfastened, Teddy radiated a casual charm. “Hello, Jules. We missed supper tonight, and I wondered if you had anything left?”

  That was my cue to go. “I’ll, um, ask Mrs. Latham.”

  Juliet ducked her head and whispered her thanks into my ear, and then with another gentle squeeze to my arm, she moved forward to stand and look up at her airman. Even in the darkness, I knew her eyes would be bright, her hair neat. It wouldn’t hang limp as mine did, misbehaving every bit as badly as my stockings.

  When I reappeared minutes later with a hastily made sandwich, it was to find that Juliet had disappeared. With Teddy? It seemed likely. Sighing, I turned to go back into the kitchen and paused when I heard a footstep behind me.

  “Isabella.”

  I spun on my heel. Davy. There he stood. He leaned against the wall, half in shadow, a lopsided smile on his face as he watched me. I felt a matching smile break out on my face. He had that effect on me.

  He moved into the light spilling out from the kitchen doorway. Unlike Teddy, his uniform was crisp and smart, all the buttons fastened neatly. They glinted and sparkled like gemstones.

  “Hello Davy.” I felt pleased at how calm my voice sounded. “Did you see where Juliet went?”

  “She, ah, went to fetch something from the storehouse. Said she’d be back in a few minutes.”

  I couldn’t hide my amusement. “She didn’t go by herself, did she?”

  He glanced at the floor, shuffled his feet, and stuffed his hands into his pockets, pulling them out again a moment later. “She’s, um…with Teddy.”