by Murray Pura
“I have to go.” Fordyce put the umbrella in her hands. “Your driver’s waiting.”
“Harrison can wait a bit longer. He won’t mind.”
He tipped up her chin with his finger and thumb. “How lovely you are. May I?”
“Of course, Terry. You needn’t ask.”
The kiss was soft and careful, as if he were unsure of himself. Suddenly he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest and kissed her with the strength of the storm that was sweeping over them. She almost let the umbrella go in the wind as she responded by throwing her arms around his neck. The rain struck them both but they continued to kiss.
When Terry broke off the embrace, he turned and strode quickly down the pier to the Hood’s gangway. He did not look back.
“God go with you, Terry,” Catherine said quietly.
“Lady Catherine?”
She glanced at Harrison. He was holding the door of the Rolls open.
“No, thank you, Harrison. I want to watch the Hood sail.”
“You can do that from the comfort of the car, m’lady.”
“I can’t actually.”
She stood in the rainfall and waited. Hundreds of men scurried back and forth on the Hood’s deck. She could hear names being called and caught distinct phrases as they carried over the water. A half hour went by. An hour. Shivers moved up and down her spine. The thick lines that kept the battleship tethered to the shore were released. More orders echoed across the water, sounding like she was in a valley of mist listening to hunters shout to one another. The gray ship and escort vessels slipped through clouds of fog, engines thrumming and rumbling.
Harrison had the door open for her when she turned away from the ship. “My lady.”
“Thank you so much, Harrison. I know it was foolish of me.”
“Not at all. I would do as much or more for Holly. I hope he saw you wait.”
“I don’t know. Perhaps he glanced this way from the bridge.”
“I’m sure he did.”
There was a blanket in the backseat. She pulled it around herself as she settled in. Harrison leaned back and handed her a thermos.
“What is it, Harrison?” she asked, unscrewing the top.
“Hot coffee, m’lady.”
“It couldn’t possibly be from the manor. We’ve been gone for ages.”
“I went for a stroll while you and Leftenant Commander Fordyce were chatting. That’s good Navy coffee. No rum in it, mind you, but that coffee will warm you up like a shovelful of coals in your stomach.”
“Thank you, Harrison.” She put the thermos to her lips. “You’re an absolute lifesaver.”
Dover Sky
“What is she whispering?” Caroline asked.
Libby, Jane, and Caroline were in the parlor visiting. Montgomery, the servant Libby had brought with her from the United States, was attending them.
“She says you’re the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen.” Libby grinned at Caroline. “After her darling mother—me—of course.”
Caroline smiled at Jane. “Thank you so much. That is very sweet.”
“She means it too. She never says anything for show.”
“Jane?” Caroline showed her a large red valentine trimmed in lace. “What do you think of this?”
“It’s perfect! I love it, Caroline.”
“Shall we make one for your Aunt Holly?”
“Yes, please!”
“What about Bev and Norah and Nancy and Harriet?”
Jane nodded. “I do want to give them something too.”
“And the boys?”
Jane grimaced. “Not ones trimmed in lace.”
“You’re right.” Caroline laughed. “Perhaps trimmed in rock. Their valentines will last longer that way.”
“Can we send some to Aunt Catherine and Sean in Switzerland?”
“We certainly can,” Montgomery replied. “Are you ready to come with me and make a start? I have scissors and glue and plenty of stiff red paper.”
Jane jumped up from where she was sitting. “Do you mean you have all of it right now?” She seized Montgomery’s hand.
The maid’s dark eyes sparkled as she smiled. “I do! Let’s go to the craft room.”
“Where are Charles and Matthew?”
“In the big playroom with their toy soldiers.”
“Can we visit them later?”
“Of course. But valentines first, all right?”
The two of them left the parlor, and Montgomery closed the door firmly behind them.
“She’s nine going on nineteen,” Caroline commented as she got up and poured herself tea.
“Jane has always been that way as soon as she’s comfortable with the people she’s with,” said Libby.
“Would you like a cup?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Caroline handed Libby a cup of tea on a saucer. Steam curled up from the hot liquid. “You know, I really never heard how you and Michael came to adopt Jane.”
Libby sipped at her tea. “It was all rather straightforward. Many Chinese families went to the United States to work on the railroads during the 1800s. In this one Chinese family, a son went to the Klondike in Alaska when gold was discovered there. He made an exceptional strike and the family became wealthy. They made their home in San Francisco. In 1919, the Spanish flu wiped out almost everyone in their family. The grandmother and one-year-old Jane were the only ones who survived.”
“You were never in San Francisco, were you?”
“Indeed we were. We’d traveled to the West Coast to visit some of Michael’s California relatives. That’s when we were introduced to the grandmother and Jane. The grandmother was friends with several of Michael’s uncles and aunts. Her health had fallen off dramatically that winter, and after we’d visited with her several times she asked us if we would take Jane.
“Michael and I had gotten on very well with the grandmother and Jane from the beginning. We thought it over and prayed and decided to go ahead. Everything was done properly and legally, and Jane was excited to be with us but so tearful of leaving her grandmother. We thought it best to stay on in San Francisco for several months. The four of us grew quite close. The woman became like a mother to Michael and me. And Jane truly became our daughter. There was no question of changing our minds after that, regardless of Jane’s race and the difficulty we knew this would present to us in England. Michael and I both very much believed God had brought us all together. The grand old lady passed away last summer. We wept and made her funeral arrangements; it really was a very special goodbye, and then Jane was more than ready to come back to New York with us.” She looked at Caroline over the edge of her cup. “I can’t bear children, you see. At least not so far, and none of the physicians held out much hope.”
“I’m sorry.”
Libby shrugged. “Michael and I have coped with it well enough. Jane has been a gift from heaven. The three of us get along as if she’d been born to us.”
“How are your parents with this?”
Libby stared into her cup. “Not good at all. A Chinese granddaughter? Oriental is the word they use. Of course it affects Jane. She pretends otherwise, but she sees Mum and Dad doting on Matthew and Sean and it hurts her. She so badly wanted another grandmother. There’s nothing we can do except love her more than they ignore her. Even your son gets more attention from my parents.”
“Libby, I apologize—”
“No, that’s not necessary. I don’t mean to censure you or Charles. He has his own row to hoe without a father around, not to mention what you’ve been through. I want Mum and Dad to bless you, I honestly do. I just wish they would accept Jane.” Impulsively, she reached out to take Caroline’s hand. “Thank you for your many kindnesses to her. It helps fill in the gap.”
“I adore her. And I’m certain Charles is sweet on her even though he’d never admit it.”
Libby sank back in her chair as she tapped her fingernails against the teacup. “To be honest
, I worry most of all about Matthew. Since his mother died and Kipp is fighting some dreadful guerrilla war in the Rif, the boy doesn’t get much parental support. We thought Kipp would come home once the battles were over and the Berbers surrendered, but the rebels who wouldn’t lay down their arms scurried deeper into the mountains. I hate the thought of him out there. But Harrison has been grand with young Matthew, I see. And he quite obviously worships you.”
Caroline chuckled. “Not so much, but we do get along.”
“I was told Christelle specifically asked you take on guardianship of Matthew after her death.”
“Who told you that?”
“It was in a letter.”
Caroline ran her spoon around the inside of her empty cup. After a few moments of listening to the clicking sound she looked up at Libby. “I don’t know how much you’ve heard. Christelle wanted Kipp and me to marry and raise Matthew and Charles together. She believed we still loved each other. She asked us both to honor her request.”
“And this was something you couldn’t do?”
“Chris wanted me to let Kipp know I still loved him even while she was alive. I argued against the idea, but she was so insistent. She was already suffering so much from the cancer that I didn’t have the heart to say no. I approached Kipp. We began to have a relationship again. Only a few kisses, a few words, a few embraces, no more, Libby, I assure you. But it was quite lovely for both of us. Once Kipp found out about Christelle’s health, he changed. I believe he was overcome by guilt. It didn’t matter that this was what she wanted and even tried to orchestrate. He felt he’d betrayed her by admitting we still had feelings for each other. So he took it out on me. He treated me as if I had been a seductress. Christelle wanted us to love one another again, but Kipp was having none of it. He didn’t want me for Matthew’s mother and he didn’t want me for his wife because he only wanted Christelle. He didn’t want to think about life without her.”
Caroline’s eyes were glimmering with tears. Libby put down her cup and took both of Caroline’s hands in hers. “He was grieving,” Libby soothed. “You know he was grieving. People want to blame someone when that happens—you, me, themselves, God.”
“Kipp called me a harlot, Libby. And he meant it.”
“I’m so sorry.” Libby pulled Caroline to her feet and took her in her arms. She felt the heat of her friend’s tears against her neck. “That’s not Kipp. You’ve known him for years. You loved him. If you really think about it, you know that wasn’t his heart talking.”
“But it was him talking, Libby. No one has ever made me feel so much like dirt. Not even Tanner. When Kipp writes letters to Matthew, I try to care, but it’s too painful to think about him. That’s why I always get up and leave when they’re read aloud for the family. It’s very hard. I loved him for so many years, and that love was a big part of who I was. Now I’m confused. I’d rather not have anyone if I can’t have him. Yet if he came through the door now and said he wanted to marry me, I’d probably turn my back on him.”
“You wouldn’t, Caroline. You’d feel differently about him if he stood before you and said he still cared for you.”
Caroline pulled back and pressed her fingers into her cheeks. “No, Libby. I don’t want him. I don’t want anyone.”
“Caroline, don’t say that! You’re so beautiful, any man would want to be with you. Don’t let bitterness overtake you.”
“I don’t want any man to be with me—not even Kipp. I hate my beauty. I wish I could tear the skin off my face. The beauty everyone talks about just brings me misery. If only I had the courage to use acid or a knife or a broken piece of glass to change what I look like.”
“No! Don’t talk like that!”
“I would do it, Libby. God forgive me, I really think I would do it.”
My dear Libby,
Here at Ashton Park Easter week is almost over. Father and I so meant to get down to you for a visit but, alas, it is not to be. Victoria, the children, and I need to go directly to Dover from London this coming Monday, April 18th, right after Easter Sunday at Jeremy’s church. I do hope to see Michael at church for I know he has a small place nearby. I realize he usually spends his weekends with you at Dover Sky but I was given to understand his presence would be required at the airfield on Good Friday and Easter Saturday, so perhaps he’ll show up at the Sunday service? In any case, we are meeting Baron von Isenburg in Dover. He is escorting us to the Rhine in Germany. We are so excited! Catherine and Sean should be waiting for us by the time we arrive.
Your father and I are very sorry we won’t get a glimpse of you this Easter, but Victoria and I will be sure to return with Catherine to Dover Sky for a get-together in June or July.
Richest blessings in Christ,
Mum
P.S. I hope Matthew and Charles got the chocolate Easter eggs I mailed down last week. They are the special Cadbury ones, and I was sure they’d love them.
Dover Sky
“Is there anything I can get for you, Lady Caroline?”
“Hmm? No, I’m quite all right, Skitt. Thank you. I was thinking of wandering over the estate with my bag of bread crumbs for the geese and swans.”
“Does her ladyship think she is up to that?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you were feeling faint just an hour ago. You sent all the others off to the May Day celebrations in London without you.”
“I know. I’m much improved now. A little exercise and fresh air will do the trick, I’m sure.”
“There was talk of Lord Kipp showing up today or tomorrow on furlough, m’lady.”
“Or much later in the week. Yes, I know.”
“If he comes while you’re out on the grounds, should I direct him to you?”
“If that’s his wish, Skitt, you may tell him where I’m gone. But I do relish some privacy.”
“Of course, Lady Caroline.”
Caroline, in a pale-blue dress, made her way towards the pond. Once she was out of sight from anyone in the manor she turned left and disappeared within a grove of willows showered with bright-green leaves. The trees were bent over what Harrison called “a slither of a stream” that emerged from the ground, trickled several hundred yards, and then flowed back under the grass and earth. She sat down, kicked off her shoes, and dipped her toes in the water. After a minute of this, she unbound her hair and dropped the pins in the stream to watch the ripples. She splashed her face until water streamed off her skin and through her hair. Circles of shadow and saucers of sun created a pattern on her cheeks as light fell through the leaves and branches.
All right. It’s not as if I’m doing away with myself. Well, I suppose I am in a way. Doing away with this silly, ridiculous beauty called Caroline Scarborough. Charles will still have a mother—a better one, a plain one. No more men will bother me. No Tanners, no Kipps, no lords, no soldiers, no village idiots, no one who might hurt Charles or me. I’ll be free of the lies of flattery and betrayal. A different face means a different life.
She brought a knife out of the paper bag. The blade was about six inches long and glittered where the sun struck it. The Kaiser’s eagle was stamped into its base near the hilt. Kipp had given it to her as a gift early in the war, and she had never thrown it away. Ten minutes of steady polishing and sharpening had brought out its luster once again.
If only it were so easy for us to bring back the shine we once had.
She ran her thumb over the dagger’s edge. It was sharpened on both sides. Blood sprang from her skin. She smiled. Sharp enough. Fine cuts like threads of silk will do it. You will not want me, Kipp. No one will want me. I thank God for that.
There was only the sound of the birds and only the movement of their wings as they slipped from branch to branch. She touched the the dagger to her smooth, white cheek but did not press it in. I must do this before you come home. When you come, I might weaken. I might love you once more. I might throw the knife into the stream. You might take me in your arms and hurt
me again…and again. The dagger only hurts once…just once.
Heidelberg, the Neckar River, Germany
“Ah, there you are. What do you think of Heidelberg?” Albrecht asked Catherine.
“My goodness, I feel like I’m in a fairy tale. Are we going to stay here for a while or go back to the Rhine?”
“We’re on the Neckar right now, and it flows quite a bit further. We’ll probably berth here a few days. Mother and Father will want to visit the Heidelberger Schloss. They always do.”
“You make it sound like such a chore.”
“I’ve been inside more times than I can count.”
“Everyone will want to go into the castle—the boys especially. I want to go into the castle too.”
“Your wish is my command, my dear Catherine. Though I must say I look forward to returning to the Rhine and continuing to float those historic waters. There are plenty more castles to see and a special magic seems to hang in the air when we’re on the water.”
She pushed him. “And there is no magic in Heidelberg? I thought you said the other night there is magic anywhere I am.”
He gently put his arms around her waist. “That’s true. I forgot for a minute. And the Heidelberg sun brings out all your color and delicate features.”
“My delicate features?” She laughed and then glanced around. “Where is everyone?”
“Forward or below. Hans has laid out baked treats and chocolates in honor of May Day. The children are hovering about the table like hummingbirds, and their mothers and grandmothers are hovering about them like hawks.”
“Not this mother.”
“Sean is with Lady Preston.”
“She’ll probably eat more than he does.” Catherine smiled up at Albrecht. “Was this your timing? Hans laying out the sweets…you and me alone at the stern of the vessel…Heidelberg Castle drifting slowly into view?”
“What mortal can plan such things? I prefer to think it is just meant to be.”
“I see.” She fingered a button on his shirt. “The journey has been lovely so far, Albrecht, but far busier and noisier than I expected. Two grandmothers, a grandfather, my sister, her baby, two boys, the baron.”
