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How do they rebuild a marriage that wasn’t real in the first place? If you love epic wartime romance with a dash of intrigue, you’ll love this second-chance, marriage-of-convenience love story.

London, 1945: Two years ago, Jonty Ables married Katie Baines to save her and her unborn baby from shame. But now the war is all but over, the baby is gone and they must work out where their shaky marriage fits into lives irrevocably changed by war.

Clinging to the memory of a time before all happiness evaporated, Katie works hard during the day as a seamstress. At night she comes home to a tiny terrace on a bomb-scarred street, crammed with her extended family and their problems. Years of estrangement sit between her and her recently demobilised husband. She’s not even sure she loves him. So why is she so crushed that he calls out another woman’s name in his sleep?

Jonty is determined to honor the vows he made no matter how many ghosts plague him. But with such separate lives, his wife is more of a stranger than ever. When Katie’s friend goes missing, Jonty seizes the opportunity to help her find him just so they have reason to talk. But the war casts long shadows over their efforts, and fighting for their future might just be the hardest battle of them all.

Australian author Jennifer Mistmorgan sometimes feels like she was born in the wrong era. So she writes romantic historical fiction set in the 1940s, against the backdrop of WWII and its aftermath. She infuses her sweet romances with wartime drama, gentle faith and a dash of intrigue. She lives in Canberra with her family and a wonky-eared West Highland terrier.

King’s Cross Station, London

Thursday, 4 July 1945

As the bitter taste of coal dried out her mouth, Katie Ables twisted the thin gold band on her left hand and watched the train pull up in a hiss of steam. She would have preferred to come to the station alone to see her husband again for the first time in almost two years. But her mother insisted on coming too.

“Don’t fidget, Katie.”

Katie hated being chided like she was a girl when she was, in fact, a married woman of almost twenty-two. But there wasn’t much she could do about it when she was still living with the woman. She dropped her hands, but her insides still twisted. Questions she’d already asked herself a thousand times wove through the nerves in her belly. Chief among them: What would happen when Jonty stepped off the train?

“Boys, keep your hands to yourselves.”

Mum had insisted on bringing Katie’s two youngest brothers, although Katie had no idea why. At eight and six, Davy and Tim could have no idea of the significance of the meeting. They were already bored after having to wait in line at a polling station this morning while she and Mum voted. Now the boys chased each other around the platform, narrowly missing luggage trolleys. Mum’s weary reprimands punctuated the sounds of comings and goings at the station.

“Are you sure he’ll be here?” Mum asked.

Yes. No. I don’t know.

Maybe he had changed his mind. Tightness rose from her belly into her chest. Forgetting that she had applied lipstick, she gnawed at her bottom lip, eyes tracing the alighting crowd for a flash of blue. But maybe he wouldn’t be wearing his uniform. She wasn’t even sure if he had been properly demobilized or not. Even in the clouds of smelly steam, he shouldn’t be hard to spot, with his scars and lopsided mouth.

“Boys. I’ve told you to stop, haven’t I?”

Katie only vaguely heard the chastisement. Her eye caught on an RAF uniform. Her heart rate escalated as the man moved closer.

It wasn’t Jonty.

She released the breath that had caught in her throat and tried to calm herself. She followed the airman long enough to see him drop his duffel bag and hold out his arms for a woman in a well-cut plum-colored suit to throw herself into them at a squealing run. They clung to each other for minutes on end, her head over his shoulder, before they found each other’s lips. They kissed long and deep, in full view of the whole station. Just like one of the novels that Mum read every night.

“Oh, how romantic.” Mum had seen it too, then.

A crashing sound behind her stole her attention away from her search. She spun around to see that her youngest brothers had somehow managed to topple over a luggage trolley.

“Boys! Behave!” Mum hurried over to help restack the trolley, apologizing to the glowering station attendant.

The boys stayed contrite for approximately two seconds before they began their games again, farther down the platform. Katie should help Mum right the fallen suitcases, but she turned back to scour the crowd for Jonty’s face. She took out his last letter from her coat pocket to double-check the details, even though she knew she was right where he’d told her to be.

Kings Cross station. Platform two. 11.30 a.m.

What if he didn’t come?

She prepared herself for the mortification of going home without him, for the conversation with Mum, for what she’d say to the rest of her siblings. “Katie?”

Jonty’s unmistakable accent came from behind her.

Time stopped.

Every muscle tightened. She took a deep breath to steady herself and turned toward his voice. For the first time ever, she was glad for his scars. She might not have recognized him otherwise. The scars on his neck seemed more pronounced than in her memory. They pulled his expression slightly to the left. Jonty had never been plump, but he’d lost even more weight since she’d last seen him. His uniform sat like it was on a hanger.

Of course he had changed. She had to. It had been almost two years since they’d buried the baby girl who had been their reason for marrying in the first place. Almost two years since that dreadful night when, numb in her grief, she’d screamed at him to leave and never come back.

Jonty moved first, shuffling to narrow the distance between them. His cheerful spirit used to fill his whole body, giving him the air of an irrepressible puppy. His slow steps now marked a stark contrast to the man she’d married. She didn’t throw herself into his arms. She worried she might knock him over.

His eyes searched hers, so intense she glanced at the ground to avoid them. “I’m glad you came, Katie-my-love.”

She hadn’t heard that in two years. Her throat tightened. She stiffened, fighting against the swirl of feelings inside her gut. She didn’t realize how much she’d missed the way he’d run the words together as though they were all part of her name. Like his love, the nickname hadn’t grown from anywhere. It was the result of his decision and determination––like stating a fact.

“Hello, Jonty.”

She tried her best to smile but wasn’t sure if she managed it. She’d conceived possible things to say last night, as she’d lain awake next to her younger sister. Practiced them under her breath as they’d trooped through the rubble to get from their home in Hackney to King’s Cross. But none of them came to her dry mouth now. She bit the inside of her lip. It had been so long since she had thought about the future with any hope that she didn’t even try to now. 

“It’s good to have you home.”

She tried with all her heart to mean what she said.