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Authors: Murray Pura

Ashton Park

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HARVEST HOUSE PUBLISHERS

EUGENE, OREGON

All Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

Cover by Garborg Design Works, Savage, Minnesota

Cover photos © Chris Garborg; iStockphoto / Delius

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

ASHTON PARK

Book 1 of The Danforths of Lancashire series

Copyright © 2013 by Murray Pura

Published by Harvest House Publishers

Eugene, Oregon 97402

www.harvesthousepublishers.com

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Pura, Murray

Ashton Park / Murray Pura.

p. cm.—(The Danforths of Lancashire; bk. 1)

ISBN 978-0-7369-5285-9 (pbk.)

ISBN 978-0-7369-5286-6 (eBook)

1. Aristocracy (social classes)—England—History—20th century—Fiction. 2. Social classes—England—History—20th century—Fiction. 3. World War, 1914-1918—England—Fiction. 4. Baptists—England—Fiction. 5. Lancashire (England)—Fiction 6. Domestic fiction. I. Title.

PR9199.4.P87A88 2013

813’.6—dc23

2012026144

All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.

For my sister June, who taught me my letters, with all my love.

T
HE
C
HARACTERS

Sir William Danforth
—husband to Lady Elizabeth, father, Member of Parliament (MP), and master of Ashton Park estate

Lady Elizabeth Danforth
—wife to Sir William and mother to the seven Danforth children

Sir Arthur
—Lady Elizabeth’s father

Lady Grace
—Sir William’s mother

Aunt Holly
—Sir William’s younger sister

Edward Danforth
—eldest son, Royal Navy

Kipp Danforth
—son, Royal Air Force

Robbie Danforth
—youngest son, British Army

Emma (Danforth) Sweet
—eldest daughter and wife of Reverend Jeremiah Sweet

Catherine (Danforth) Moore
—daughter and wife of Albert Moore

Elizabeth (Libby) Danforth
—daughter

Victoria Danforth
—youngest daughter

Mr. and Mrs. Seabrooke
—managers of the household staff

Tavy
—butler

Mrs. Longstaff
—head cook

Norah Cole
—maid

Harrison
—groundskeeper

Todd Turpin
—assistant groundskeeper

Skitt
—assistant groundskeeper and sheepherder

Ben Whitecross
—groom and coach driver

Tanner Buchanan
—groundskeeper at Danforth hunting lodge in Scotland

Lord Francis Scarborough
—wealthy aristocrat

Lady Madeleine Scarborough
—his wife

Lady Caroline Scarborough
—daughter of Lord and Lady Scarborough

Reverend Jeremiah Sweet
—Anglican minister, husband to Emma

Albert Moore
—husband of Catherine and manager of Danforth shipyards in Belfast

Michael Woodhaven IV
—American pilot from wealthy family

Charlotte Squire
—maid

Christelle Cevennes
—waitress at café in France

Shannon Dungarvan
—young woman from Dublin

Pilots of Kipp Danforth’s squadron in France

Bobby Scott

Kent Wales

Ian Hannam

Teddy Irving

Gladstone and Wellington
—the Danforth German shepherds

Contents

The Characters

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

About Murray Pura

Acknowledgments

About the Publisher

1
1916

April 1916

“Go, girl, go!”

Victoria Danforth leaned into her horse’s neck as it broke out of the forest and drove toward the sea cliff at full gallop.

“Come on, Robin! The man is gaining!”

A green ribbon flew from Victoria’s head and her long auburn hair burst loose. She struck the sorrel’s flanks with the heels of her black leather boots.

“Give me more, my girl, just a bit more!”

The shining sea drew closer and closer. A wind that carried the bite of salt water stung Victoria’s nostrils. Face flushed by the wild ride, eyes glittering like a cat’s, she cried out a final time.

“All you’ve got, my beauty!”

And then she hauled back on the reins, turned the mare’s head to the left, sprang from the saddle, and hit the ground boots-first with a shout. The horse dug in all its hooves and tossed up mud and stone and grass. The cliff edge was only a few yards away when she stopped.

“Good, girl, that was lovely, that was grand!” Victoria stroked the animal’s neck and mane. Both horse and rider were panting. “What a gorgeous view! I’ll never tire of it.”

The brisk ocean breeze pushed back the auburn hair from Victoria’s face, bringing its deep red color out to the light, then turning it over and bringing back its rich browns. It plucked at her forest green riding coat, her white blouse, and the green silk scarf at her throat. The scarf brought out the emerald fire in her eyes.

“Miss Victoria,” came a man’s voice.

She had closed her eyes to better dream of sailing on a ship across the Atlantic to America or Canada.
There is land no white man has ever seen,
her brother Edward the naval officer had told her once.
Mountains where no man or woman has ever placed a foot. Animals that are the stuff of dreams.

“Miss Victoria.” The voice was more insistent.

“Mmm?”

“If ye want to be there to greet your father, we must head back. Even though he’s using the coach he’ll still be at the manor house inside a quarter hour. The train would have arrived at Lime Street Station in Liverpool well over an hour ago.”

Victoria shook her head and laughed. “Old Todd Turpin, my highwayman, you are so particular about clocks and minutes. Is that because your great-great-grandfather’s blood runs in your veins and you know where every coach is on any road at any given minute?”

Todd, a short and slender man of sixty with a flat tweed cap who sat astride a black gelding, flushed. “I’m not related to Dick Turpin. I told ye that before.”

“Just as your mate Brendan Cook is not related to the famous sea captain who also met an untimely end. Though Captain Cook was eaten, while Dick Turpin was merely hanged.”

“Sure, your mother Lady Elizabeth shouldn’t like to hear ye talking like this.”

“Well, she’s not here, is she? Or are you her spy as well as my guardian?”

Todd’s face flushed a deeper red. “I’m no spy neither.”

Victoria gave him a sudden savage glare. “Let us hope not, Old Todd Turpin, or I should have to challenge you to a duel. And you know how quick I am with a blade.” Seeing the startled look that sprang onto his face she laughed again, tossing her hair. “Oh, Todd, when will you ever get to know who I am? I wouldn’t hurt a finger on your hand. You’ve served our family since I was eleven, after all.”

“Well, but ye are not eleven anymore, are ye, Miss?”

Victoria swept up into her saddle, her long hair falling about her shoulders as she adjusted her black riding skirt and leather boots. “I may be eighteen but the eleven-year-old is still in there. Race you to Ashton Park.”

She leaned forward and whistled softly in her mare’s ear. The horse bolted forward, away from the sea cliff and down the path leading back into the forest of tall ash trees. Todd rolled his eyes and muttered, “Ah, dear Lord,” and dug his heels into his gelding’s sides, urging it after the mare. He knew he would never catch Victoria but at least he could keep her in sight.

The soaring ash trees, some two hundred feet high and hundreds of years old, flashed past on either side of Victoria as she and Robin hurtled along the track. She meant to get altogether out of sight of Todd Turpin, who, she was certain, reported to her mother all her goings-on, despite his protests to the contrary. Bending over the mare’s neck, she took a different path and galloped full out over a trail she could have ridden with her eyes closed. It was a shortcut she was certain Todd had never used.

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