From Across the Ancient Waters
Page 37
“He is pleased that we have become so close,” replied Percy, again revealing nothing.
Once more it was quiet.
Percy drew in a deep breath. “It is getting late,” he said. “Suddenly I am very tired. It’s been a long day.” Slowly he rose. “Shall we go in?” he asked.
“I think I will sit a little longer,” replied Florilyn. “You’ve given me so much to think about. I have never heard anything like what you have described between you and your father … and even your grandfather’s role in it. It sounds both wonderful and frightening. I’ve never considered that a father and son, or a daughter I suppose as well, could trust one another like that and be such … It sounds like your father is actually your best friend.”
“He really is. That’s exactly right. I know there would be many who would think me out of my mind to talk about my father this way. Others would think me a fool. I don’t know, perhaps this is not a road everyone can walk. I don’t even say everyone should. I don’t know. I am still young. I am probably guilty of the common hubris of youth of thinking I know more than I really do. All I can say is that this is the way I have chosen to obey the command to honor my father and mother.”
Florilyn smiled. “Well, I don’t think you a fool. But I need time to absorb it all.”
“All right. Well then, I’ll leave you to your thoughts. How about a ride tomorrow afternoon? After we both sleep in!”
“I would like that,” said Florilyn with a smile.
Percy turned to go.
“Oh, Percy,” said Florilyn after him, “did you stop by to see anyone else in the village or on your way up here this evening?”
“I stopped in at the inn, then by the smithy, then I came straight here. Why?”
“Oh, nothing. It’s just that there is something you need to know, something you ought to be prepared for. I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you all evening.”
“What?”
Florilyn hesitated. “Come to think of it,” she added with a smile, “there’s no sense ruining your evening. I’ll tell you in the morning. Though not too early!”
“I know. You like to sleep in. But now I will worry about what it might be. My night’s ruined either way.”
“I’m sorry,” rejoined Florilyn. “I shouldn’t have said anything. It will keep until tomorrow. If I know you, you won’t worry about it for long. I’ll tell you everything in the morning. Well, everything I know, which isn’t much.”
Assuming she had something to tell him about Rhawn Lorimer or one of the Burrenchobays, or possibly something to do with her brother and the university scandal Mistress Chattan had mentioned, Percy consented to wait. “Sure … okay. Good night, Florilyn.”
“Good night, Percy. It’s really nice to have you back.”
SEVENTY
Old Wounds, New Beginnings
Expecting to sleep till at least eight or nine, Percy was wide awake the next morning before seven. After a spirited visit with his aunt in the breakfast room, he decided to walk to the village. It was hours before Florilyn would make an appearance for the day after the late evening. With a ride planned for the afternoon, he wanted to wait no longer before visiting Grannie and Gwyneth.
Walking past the draper’s shop on the afternoon of his arrival, Percy was reminded of the first time he had set eyes on Rhawn Lorimer. The momentary exchange that fateful day had seemed innocent enough. But even then, the flirtatious mischief had been evident in her eye.
He knew it well might stir up the old rumor, but he needed to see her. He had unfinished business with her, too, just as he did with Gwyneth—though of a much different nature. He had to look Rhawn in the eye and ask her why. If Florilyn’s news concerned Rhawn, he might just as well find it out for himself.
While they ate breakfast, he asked his aunt about Rhawn.
“We have hardly seen her in the last two years,” replied Katherine. “She and Florilyn never visit anymore.”
“I would like to drop in on her this morning.”
“Goodness, Percy … why?”
“It’s just something I need to do. I am concerned about her, for one thing. I want to ask her why she did it.”
“I wouldn’t want to have anything to do with her. Aren’t you afraid of stirring everything up again? People will talk.”
“Who cares? And why would people talk? Are you saying …? Is she not married? Did the father not come forward?”
“No to both,” answered his aunt. “She is still living with her parents. She has a baby boy.”
“No one ever owned up to it?”
Katherine shook her head.
“And Rhawn never divulged the truth?”
“No.”
“Did she ever absolve me?” asked Percy.
“Yes, eventually she came clean and said she had lied about you.”
Percy took in the information thoughtfully.
“Must you see her, Percy?” asked Katherine.
He thought about her question a moment. “I don’t know if I have to, but I want to. Things need to be brought to resolution. It’s something my dad’s always talking about—reconciliation and healing. I have to see if there might be an opening with Rhawn. If not, at least I will have tried.”
His aunt nodded then her lips broke into a smile. “That’s your father, all right,” she said. “Even as a teen he could not tolerate conflict. He was always trying to resolve differences between people. Why should I expect Edward’s son to be any different? Like father, like son, I suppose.”
“That’s a great compliment coming from you, Aunt Katherine.”
Percy left her and set out for Llanfryniog about eight thirty. He left Florilyn a brief note saying he would be back by noon. Whatever she had to tell him would have to wait for later in the day.
He walked straight to the village. He wanted to get that visit out of the way first. Then he would have plenty of time with Gwyneth afterward.
He made no attempt to hide his movements. He went directly to the magistrate’s home. A woman whom he had never seen answered the door.
“Mrs. Lorimer?” said Percy.
“Yes,” she answered, looking him over with a questioning eye.
“Is Rhawn here?” Percy asked. “I am a friend of hers.”
“Do I know you?”
“No, ma’am. I’ve not been in Llanfryniog for two years.”
Whatever suspicions Percy’s statement might have aroused in Mrs. Lorimer’s mind, she kept to herself. She disappeared into the house, leaving the door open and Percy standing outside.
A minute later Rhawn appeared.
“Hello, Rhawn,” said Percy with a smile.
She stared back at him blankly, not believing her eyes. In the distance Percy heard the sounds of a child.
“Percy!” she said in a soft, almost questioning voice. Her eyes began to fill. The change that had come over her was remarkable. On her face was the look of a sad and broken young woman.
Percy stepped forward and embraced her.
She began to weep in earnest, though softly.
“Why have you come here, Percy?” she asked at length, stepping back and wiping her eyes. “Aren’t you afraid of being seen … of what people will say?”
“No, I am not concerned.”
“Are you … angry with me?” she asked, forcing a sad, almost frightened smile.
“No, not that either. I do have to say that I was surprised and disappointed.”
“Have you come to rub salt in the wounds?”
“Rhawn! I would never do that.”
“Why, then? Why would you want to see me?”
“I had to ask you why … why you did it. Why did you, Rhawn?”
She smiled again more sadly than before. “Can’t you guess?”
“No, honestly I can’t. What did I ever do to hurt you?”
“Nothing, Percy,” she said, starting to cry again. “Nothing at all. That is the reason.”
“I don’t follow you.”
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“I knew the real father would never acknowledge his child. He had already turned his back on me. I knew he would never marry me. You were the nicest boy I had ever met. I suppose I hoped that maybe … But it was stupid and selfish of me. I was not in the habit back then of thinking of anyone but myself. I didn’t think of the consequences to you. I am sorry for what I must have put you through. I just thought … “
She looked away and began to cry again. “I did it because I was selfish, Percy,” she went on in a halting voice. “I kept trying to convince myself that you were smitten with me. All my life I had been able to make any boy I wanted fall all over me. You were the first boy who didn’t. It made me crazy to conquer you. I told myself that you were playing hard to get, that you really loved me. But everyone knew how it was between you and Florilyn. I knew well enough that she was in love with you.”
She was looking down as she spoke and did not see Percy’s expression of surprise at her words.
“That made me angry, too,” Rhawn went on, “that she might succeed where I had failed. I suppose I was trying to get back at you both, and at the same time I hoped that you might … I suppose I still hadn’t given up on the idea that you might actually care for me in some way. I see now how foolish … that you never—” Rhawn glanced away, crying again.
She started a moment later when she felt two strong hands on her shoulders. She looked up. Percy was staring straight into her eyes with a more peaceful look of love and compassion than she had ever seen from anyone in her life.
“Rhawn,” he said, smiling tenderly. “You were right. I did not love you in that way. I hope you do not mistake my visit today in thinking that has changed. I cannot love you as a man would. I cannot be a father to your child. But I want to be a friend to you. I would like us to make a new beginning, if you are willing. I think Florilyn is ready to be your friend again, as well.”
“Oh, Percy … I don’t know. Why would you treat me this way? After all I … I mean, why would you be so good to me?”
Percy smiled.
It was the old smile she remembered!
“Isn’t that what friends are for?” he said.
Rhawn could hardly believe how kind and generous he was. “Would you … could you come in for a cup of tea?” she asked. “I would like you to meet my mother … and my son.”
SEVENTY-ONE
Gone
Percy left the Lorimer home thirty minutes later, full of many thoughts. Mostly he felt compassion for Rhawn. She was now reaping the fruit of the foolishness of her younger years. But all beginnings offer hope for new life. Perhaps this might be such a day for her.
He turned into the lane toward Grannie’s. He hoped he might find Gwyneth there. After tea with Grannie, they could walk along the beach together.
It was great to be back, he thought. Just walking through the streets of Llanfryniog made him happy.
He couldn’t wait to see Gwyneth again. He was nearly running by the time he reached Grannie’s. He tried to calm himself, reminding himself how changed Gwyneth was last time. He had almost not recognized her that day he had first seen her working at the manor. In his eyes she would always be the nymph of the Snowdonian hills, the lake creature out of whose hands deer came to eat. Yet she was bound to be changed again. And still the question dogged him why she had not met him two years before.
He slowed. Would she be taller? he wondered with a smile. She would never be as tall as Florilyn. But she might grow to five feet, and then be not much more than a foot shorter than he.
She would be eighteen now. Would the same thing happen as before? Would he gaze upon the face beneath the head of white and wonder, Is it really her?
As he went, he also tried to prepare himself for the possibility that there could be a young man in her life … if she wasn’t engaged or married already. He had tried to prepare himself for it. But he knew he wasn’t really prepared for such news.
He reached Grannie’s cottage. Strange, thought Percy, there was no smoke drifting out of the chimney. He went to the familiar door and knocked. There was no response from inside. A second knock, then a third produced the same result. He tried the latch. It was locked. Grannie never locked her door. Something felt wrong.
He thought a moment, then turned and quickly broke into a run in the direction of the cottage outside the village. He hoped the explanation was as simple as that Grannie was with them. With the premonition growing that something wasn’t right, he ran across the moorland plateau. He ran straight to the door of the cottage and knocked.
It opened a minute later. A rough-looking man, unshaven for several days and with a scowl on his face, opened the door and stared at him. “What do you want, mate?” he growled.
“I came to see the Barries,” said Percy, glancing into the house behind the man in perplexity.
“Ain’t nobody by that name here.”
“Codnor Barrie? He has a daughter by the name of Gwyneth?”
“Look, mate—this is my place. I ain’t heard of no Barrie.”
“How long have you lived here?”
“Seven months. Came from Australia to work in the mines. Now they ain’t giving me the work they promised. Now beat it!” The door slammed in Percy’s face.
He walked to the side of the house. Not a creature nor pen was to be seen behind it. In bewilderment Percy hurried back to the village. He went straight to Grannie’s again. This time he knocked on the door of the house next to it. It opened, and he was met by Grannie’s neighbor, a woman Percy had seen a few times in the past. “Good morning,” he said.
“It’s Mr. Drummond, isn’t it?” she said.
“Yes, and I’m hoping you can tell me where Grannie is, and Gwyneth and her father. I just returned and found a stranger living in the cottage on the moor, and not a very friendly one. Grannie’s door is locked up tight.”
“I’m sorry to be the bearer of such tidings, Mr. Drummond,” said the old woman, “but they’re gone.”
“Gone … where?”
“I don’t know, Mr. Drummond.”
“Why did they leave?”
“Nobody knows. It’s a mystery. One day Mr. Barrie appeared with his cart at Grannie’s and picked up a few things. I figured she was going up to live with them. She was ailing, Grannie was, and the lass had been coming down every day. But then I never saw her again. Next thing I knew folks were saying they’d disappeared—all three of them.”
“Disappeared!” exclaimed Percy. “It makes no sense.”
The woman shook her head, as if to say that she agreed with him but had no other answer to give.
“Grannie’s place has been vacant ever since,” she said. “But like you say, a fellow from the mines is living in Codnor’s place, honest man, though he’s a surly one.”
“So I discovered. But how can it be that no one knows where they went? Did he have work elsewhere? Was he fired from the mine? There must be some explanation.”
“That’s why it’s a mystery, Mr. Drummond.”
Percy thanked the woman and left.
Not a young man prone to downcast moods, this was as shattering a blow as Percy had ever known in his life. He half stumbled out of town in the direction of the harbor in a stupor of desolation. A few fishermen were about, but he did not pause to speak with them. Unaware that Gwyneth had been sitting at that very spot waiting for him two years earlier, while he had been sitting on the promontory waiting for her, he passed the corner of the concrete quay and continued onto the beach.
He made his way slowly, memories flooding him as he went—his talks with Gwyneth, playing in the tide, the race with Florilyn—so many memories. He was in no playful mood today and plodded along heedless of his steps.
The tide was about halfway in, which made climbing over the rocks and boulders and tidepools at the end of the north beach more difficult. By the time he reached the south beach with the promontory rising high on his left, his boots and trousers were wet to the knees. He hardly noticed.
He sat down on the wet grass, just as he had on that misty morning two years before. It was clear today. He stared out across the blue sea, trying to imagine the Irish coastline, though he was never sure whether he really saw it.
“Oh … Gwyneth, Gwyneth,” he whispered. “Where have you gone?”
SEVENTY-TWO
The Viscount and His Factor
Percy arrived back at Westbrooke Manor about ten thirty. He found Florilyn in the breakfast room. She had just read his note.
“Oh, Percy!” she said. “I had hoped to talk to you before you went into town. I can see from your face that you know.”
He nodded, slumped into a chair, and buried his face in his hands.
“I am sorry, Percy,” said Florilyn. “I know what Gwyneth meant to you. I wanted to find a way to tell you last night, but it just—I don’t know … I couldn’t find a way. She was my friend, too. I’m sorry.”
Percy looked toward her and smiled sadly. “It’s all right,” he said. “As you said, you didn’t want to ruin my evening. And it would have.” He drew in a long breath and exhaled slowly. “I talked to Grannie’s neighbor,” he said. “The story she recounts is almost incomprehensible … that they left without a word to anyone.”
“That is exactly how it was,” rejoined Florilyn. “One day Gwyneth was working here and everything was fine. Two days later my father told me she would not be returning. I asked why. He said that she and her father had left Llanfryniog. I was stunned. She’d not said a word to me. There wasn’t a hint of it ahead of time. Immediately I rode down to the cottage, but they were already gone. I never saw Gwyneth again. I am still completely bewildered.”
“Your father must know something.”
“He said his factor informed him that Barrie had given notice and told him he would not be renewing his rental of the cottage.”