Ashton Park (2 page)

Sure enough, she erupted from the ash trees five minutes before a worried Todd emerged flustered from the main road through the grove. He saw her riding her mare slowly over the large green lawn that surrounded the manor house and called out to her.

“Ye little devil! Ye ought not to do that, Miss Victoria!”

Victoria smiled. “Do what, Old Todd Turpin? Outrace you?”

“Do some kind of witchcraft or spell or whatever it is ye did to vanish from the road and get here ahead of me!”

“Oh, I assure you I am still a good Christian girl, Todd, and all four of Robin’s hooves were planted firmly on the ground. We may have taken flight but we were never in the clouds. You just don’t know the ash grove like I do. Perhaps you don’t have a highwayman’s blood in your veins after all.”

She rode Robin toward the great house with its stone walls and towering brick chimneys and hundreds of windows. Ivy grew green and lush over the entire back of the manor, the oldest part, completed in 1688. The newer wings, dating from the mid-1700s, were clear of growth and the stone shone, in some parts, a soft gray like pigeons, in other parts, a warm honey color, and in still other places, a ruby red that made her think of strawberries. She urged her mare onto the scores of flagstones that rimmed the house, and the horse’s hooves clicked and clacked as Victoria guided her to the front of the ancient and sturdy manor. There were a hundred and sixteen rooms and Victoria had been into most of them at least twice, including the ones her mother had locked up tight.

A cluster of starlings burst from the trees and darted over her head, making the horse rear, nearly throwing her off. “Shhh, my lovely,” she said, quieting the mare, tugging slightly on the reins. “It’s all right.” She stared after the birds as they raced for the far corner of the manor.

“Now what was that all about? Do you suppose they’ve seen hawks?” She glanced at the scores of windows. “Perhaps they saw a ghost. Old Todd Turpin always frightened me half to death with his stories of headless phantoms and Viking raiders swinging swords running with blood. The worst was the woman who burned to death when a candle set her gown on fire.” The horse nickered and Victoria patted her neck. “That really happened. That’s the trouble. A bride going up like a torch and no one could get her gown or corset off. The groom tried so hard and his hands were scarred forever from the flames. He never married again. She was a Danforth.” Victoria shuddered. “Why did I have to start thinking about that gruesome event? Servants say they’ve seen her burning and screaming in the room where it happened. One butler quit over it.” Robin nickered again.

“Miss Victoria!”

“What is it, Old Todd Turpin?” she asked in a tease. “Do you wish to have another race?”

“I’m looking at my watch. Your father will be along in another few minutes. I’m sure of it.”

“Well, then, I bow to the wisdom of your hoary head, and Robin and I shall proceed to the drive. Thank you.”

The sun had been in and out of the clouds all afternoon. Now a light shower fell softly on Ashton Park and its stone and ivy and grass. It glistened on Victoria’s green sleeves and beaded on Robin’s mane. The oak trees that grew around the old castle that was hundreds of yards away, its turrets just peeking above the treetops, glistened in the fall of the drops.

Victoria rode the mare over the front lawn to the drive and then toward the broad avenue through the gnarled and sweeping oaks, where she knew her father’s coach would soon come. As Victoria watched, the sun slipped back out and the oak forest and castle and avenue caught fire. The beauty of the moment overwhelmed her. Then into the flame of leaves and bending tree trunks, like a moving photograph, a black coach suddenly appeared pulled by two nut-brown horses in harness. Robin threw up her head and gave a short whinny.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s greet them.”

She rode up to the coach as it slowed, its driver cloaked in black with a top hat and scarf. He lifted the hat to her.

“Miss Victoria.”

“Mr. Whitecross. How was the traffic in Liverpool?”

“The usual dreadful mess of motorcars breaking down and wagons and carriages bottled up on narrow streets because of it.”

“You look bundled up for February or March.”

“The rains and winds of April, Miss Victoria. Are you out on your own?”

“Ah, no, I’m much too young for that, aren’t I? Old Todd’s with me.”

“Where?”

“Oh, just back of the manor there.” She bent down to the window of the coach. “Hello, Papa! It’s so nice to have you home again! Happy Easter!”

A handsome head of brown hair with a dash of gray at the temples poked out, a smile opening up the man’s face. “My dear Victoria! How good of you to ride out to meet me, my dear. Though I will reserve the Easter greeting for its proper moment on Sunday morning.”

Victoria and her mare followed the coach around the circular drive until Ben Whitecross brought it to a halt in front of the large oak doors of the manor.

“Here you are, Sir William,” Ben said. “Welcome home.”

“Thank you, Ben. Thank you.” Sir William climbed down from the coach and removed his top hat as his daughter swung down from the mare. He took her into his arms and held her tightly.

“Ah, it is always grand to come down that avenue through the oaks and see Ashton Park in all its glory in the sunlight.” Sir William kissed Victoria on the top of her head. “How is my youngest? What trouble have you gotten into with the suffragettes this week, hmm?”

“I only marched three times while you were gone, Papa.”

“Your mother wrote me. A number of your friends were arrested.”

“Well, but not me.”

“Not yet.” Sir William stood at six-four and towered over his daughter in his long black coat, with his broad shoulders and two hundred and thirty pounds of weight. At fifty-two, his eyebrows were still as brown as his hair and eyes as they slanted downward. “You know what an arrest and jail time would do to your mother. Never mind yourself. Or the family name.”

Victoria’s own eyebrows came together sharply and her emerald eyes flickered. “You yourself made a speech in the House of Commons in support of votes for women. I read it in the newspaper.”

“I do believe in it, yes. I’ve told you that before. But violence only makes the government resist your cause all the more.”

“Yes, well, doing nothing ensures nothing happens, Papa.”

He laid his two large hands on her shoulders. “I did not say to do nothing. But smashing windows and setting off bombs only hardens the public against you. And Parliament and the king become your enemies.”

Victoria looked into her father’s eyes. “Setting off bombs is something I will never do. Human life is precious to me, Father. That is why I protest the war.”

“I thought the suffragette movement declared they were stopping the marches until the war was over. In fact, I read a number of the leaders support the war effort.”

“That’s the old group that’s run by Mrs. Pankhurst and one of her daughters. The other daughter is completely against the war in France and started a new group. That’s the one I belong to now, Father, the Workers’ Suffrage Federation. We have proclaimed no amnesty on demonstrations for the duration of the war. Indeed, we feel we must hold rallies against the conflict in Europe every time we march for the right to vote.”

He groaned. “Yes, there is that too, isn’t there? Mass rallies against Britain’s involvement in the war. Mother tells me the neighbors think you are unpatriotic.”

“I am a true patriot. I want England to be known for preserving life, not taking it in the wanton slaughter of the trenches.”

“For heaven’s sakes, Victoria, you have three brothers in uniform—”

“I love them enough to want them out of uniform and back safely at Ashton Park without a drop of blood on their hands and each of them with a clean conscience.”

Victoria was aware of Ben Whitecross watching them uncomfortably as he stood by the team of horses, shifting his weight and averting his eyes, and of Old Todd Turpin approaching as slowly as he possibly could on foot, restraining two blond German shepherds on long leashes. Suddenly she smiled up at her father and put an arm through his. “I loved your speech about Home Rule for Ireland.”

His lips curved up in a half smile. “But.”

“No. I really did love it. I even cut it out for my diary.”

“But.”

She shrugged and began to lead him toward the house. “I think Ireland should have full independence. How would the English Parliament like to be ruled by a mob of politicians in Cardiff or Edinburgh?”

“One step at a time, my dear.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you wanted your freedom, Father. You always argue in the Commons that England is about liberty and English law is about justice for everyone.”

He laughed. “I should end our subscription to all the newspapers that get delivered to this home.”

The oak doors opened and a number of people rushed out toward the two of them. The first was a tall and slender lady, with hair the color of Victoria’s piled pleasantly about her head and dark eyes smiling as warmly as her lips. She took Sir William in her arms and kissed him on the cheek. Lady Elizabeth was seven years younger and half a foot shorter than her husband and the differences in height and age were both noticeable.

“William, my dear, it has been too long. I’m so happy to see you. Have you lost weight again?”

He returned her kiss, smiling. “London food is difficult to digest. I’m sure our Mrs. Longstaff will soon fatten me up.”

She pouted. “But you always want the meals to be so frugal and spare at this time of year.”

“Oh, my goodness, Elizabeth, only for a few days as we remember our Lord’s crucifixion and death.” He hugged her. “On Sunday we celebrate His life and the new life He puts into all of us. There will be plenty of time for feasting then, eh?” He peered over her shoulder. “Who’s this? Catherine and Albert? Are you here from Belfast? I didn’t know. Emma’s wedding isn’t for another week.”

“It is so rarely that we can surprise you,” Lady Elizabeth spoke up. “It’s nice for us to succeed at doing so now and then.”

A tall woman with long black hair and a worried look behind her smiles came to Sir William and hugged him. “Hello, Father. We weren’t sure Albert could get away this Easter but here we are just the same. I simply can’t miss my sister’s wedding.”

“I’m overjoyed, Catherine. I haven’t seen either of you in half a year.”

Albert was short, with a broad brown mustache and a face given to red patches. Dressed in a three-piece gray tweed suit, he shook Sir William’s hand. “Some matters came up, sir, that needed my particular attention. I have my concerns about—”

Sir William clapped him on the shoulder. “There will be time for that later, Albert. Much later. Baxter is coming down from Preston with the textile figures and Longbottom up from Liverpool with the ledgers on our shipping profits and losses. We’ll wait until then. Let us relax, you and I, eh? You from running the shipyards and I from helping King George run the country. And who do we have here? Dear Emma, the blushing bride.”

Another woman as tall as Catherine and Lady Elizabeth, but with chestnut hair tied back, almost ran to her father, her plain face totally transformed by the strength of her smile. “Yes, Papa. I’m so glad you’re here early. We will want your advice for so many things.”

“Your mother is much better at advice than I am,” said Sir William, holding her close with one long arm and Catherine close with the other.

Lady Elizabeth shook her head. “The manor chapel has always been your eighth child, William. No one knows how to dress it better than you.”

“Is that what you think? Four daughters, three sons, and a chapel? Well, I hope my instructions for decorating it for Easter have been followed—”

Lady Elizabeth and Emma laughed.

“You see?” his wife teased. “Fussing over it already.”

“I only wish—”

“Mr. and Mrs. Seabrooke have matters well in hand, my dear,” his wife assured him. “You can have a look right after tea.”

Mrs. Seabrooke peered out the window at the Danforth family gathered around Sir William. “I don’t see Lady Grace.”

Mr. Seabrooke looked over her shoulder. “You know how it is. Sir William’s mother never goes out of doors. Never takes tea either. She wanders about the rooms until dinner at eight.”

“Sir Arthur and Aunt Holly said they would join us.”

“They are in the library arguing, I believe, over some comment in a book. I have no idea what that is about. However, it is an amiable argument.”

Mrs. Seabrooke continued to stare out the window. “Oh, now, Todd has let the dogs jump all over Sir William.”

Mr. Seabrooke shook his head. “That’s Sir William who has called them to his side. He dotes on that pair.”

“A gift from an Austrian baron. He should have got rid of them once war was declared.”

“Oh, we’ve been through that before, Mrs. Seabrooke. Remember what happened when Sir William got wind of that sort of talk from Clifford? Gone overnight. Sacked.
The dogs did not invade Belgium and France
. None of that from you, if you please, Missus.”

“Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Seabrooke,” came a voice behind them.