Ashton Park (28 page)

“Would you?” He shook another person’s hand. “Let us set it in stone then. Two weeks time and we’re back. Back and ready to worship the Lord in spirit and in truth.” He turned to Mrs. Longstaff and pointed. “Mind you, I don’t forget your own promise.”

“What’s that, sir?”

“Christmas Eve. The midnight service of candles and carols. At St. Mark’s.”

“Oh, I’ll be there, sir, I dearly love a good choir at Christmas.”

“Well, that’s settled then. We all know where we’ll be on December 24th, excellent.” He raised his arm. “There’s the parson. Hullo! Do come this way, sir, I’d like a word with you, if I may, praise be to God.”

Mrs. Longstaff laughed. “What’s gotten into you, sir?”

Sir William shook the parson’s hand. “God, Mrs. Longstaff, God and the Holy Ghost. Ah, reverend, how pleased I am you chose the text you did for your sermon. I was greatly blessed, greatly blessed, I thank the Lord.”

Libby had put on pants and climbed a tree.

Stars showered the leaves. She hugged her knees to her chest as she sat in a fork in the tall ash and had a clear view of the lights of the manor. Ashton Park. It had finally been wired for electricity. Paris had its beauty, even in a time of war, but nothing compared to the sweet green of the Danforth estate, and at night it looked like a magic lantern show. Harrison had mowed that afternoon and the scent of grass sliced open stung her nose. She breathed in deep lungfuls of it.

I want you to love it, Michael. I don’t know what you have in America. You probably have a great deal. But here we have oaks a thousand years old. Here we have a castle that withstood Viking raiders. Here we have fields that saw knights clash with sword and shield during the Wars of the Roses.

A couple passed under the tree, holding hands and talking softly. The man walked with a slight limp but still kept up with his companion’s pace. She saw it was Victoria and Ben. They made their way to the stables. Libby turned her head to the side and rested it on her knees. Their voices carried in the calm summer air.

“We still have the horses. Papa wouldn’t dream of selling them off. We’ll use a coach at our wedding.” Victoria’s voice.

“Would you let me drive the team?” Ben’s voice.

“Well, no, darling—you’re supposed to be inside the coach with me.”

“Couldn’t we both sit up front?”

Libby heard Victoria’s laugh clearly. “I suppose we could. It’s not very regal, though.”

“I expect it will be quite a show. Is there anyone who isn’t attending from your family?”

“Robbie’s signed on for another five years with the army but they’ve granted him leave to join us. I haven’t seen Catherine in ages, but she’ll be arriving in a few days. Edward’s been at the family’s hunting lodge in Scotland since the end of the war—more than six months. He’ll be coming down. Only Catherine’s husband won’t be here. I gather he’s much too busy with the shipyards. I don’t expect he’ll be greatly missed.”

“Not by me, at any rate. My gaze will be fixed elsewhere.”

“Oh? You sound like a pilot.”

“I am a pilot. And I’ve made a perfect three-point landing.”

Victoria laughed again. Libby could tell she had covered her mouth. “Shh. We’re at our old stables. Enough talk.”

Edward looked out the window at the rain slashing through the ash trees. Gray clouds were racing in off the Irish Sea and covering the estate. He imagined himself standing under one of the trees and Charlotte Squire running out to him again with a cloak to cover his shoulders. He remembered the kiss in the groundskeeper’s hut. He saw the beauty of her eyes and hair as she pulled back her hood.

“Edward, my boy. How are you feeling this morning?”

His father clapped a hand to his shoulder from behind.

Edward did not turn. “Right as rain,” he said.

“Libby’s friend has just arrived from France. Michael Woodhaven IV. Of the Woodhaven family of New York. I’d like you to meet him.”

“What’s he doing here?”

“Why, your sister invited him to the wedding. She was his nurse when he was shot down over the front. The family has written to express their gratitude for the care she provided. Come and say hello, please. You’ll find you like him.”

Michael was standing with Libby and Lady Elizabeth in the Great Hall and admiring the large oil paintings of battles during the Wars of the Roses. Sir William introduced Edward and Michael smiled and extended his hand. Edward kept both of his behind his back. Michael dropped his hand but his smile grew wider.

“Nice to meet you, Edward. They tell me you served in the navy during the war.”

Edward nodded. “The Royal Navy. Yes.”

“And you saw action in the Battle of Jutland? That’s great.”

“Actually, it wasn’t great, Yank. The Germans outgunned us and outmaneuvered us. We lost four times the ships and four times the men.”

Michael hesitated. “Still. They didn’t knock you out of the war.”

“No. We can thank God you boys finally showed up and prevented that. Where would we be today if Uncle Sam hadn’t decided to declare war on Germany?”

Michael put his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry you feel that way. America never won the war alone. We were allies. We beat Germany and Austria together.”

“How splendid of you to say so.”

“Edward—” Libby began, a frown growing on her face.

Sir William interrupted. “Edward, might I have a word with you in private?” He put a hand on his son’s back and propelled him down the hall to his private study. Once the door was shut, he turned on his son.

“What do you mean by behaving in such a disgraceful fashion? The man is a guest in our house and the scion of a highly esteemed family.”

Edward matched his father’s glare with one of his own. “When I’m head of the estate, people like Michael Woodhaven will never be guests at Ashton Park again.”

“When you’re head of the estate? Is that something you expect to happen shortly? The keys of the kingdom aren’t handed over to rude and rebellious sons.”

“Perhaps you wouldn’t have a rude and rebellious son if you hadn’t sent the woman he loved into exile while you locked him up in a dungeon on some godforsaken Scottish moor.”

Sir William paused and the anger left his face. “I’m very sorry you look at it that way. Your mother and I were only trying to do what was best for you.”

“Best for me? You were doing what you thought was best for yourselves and the Danforth name. Heaven forbid I should marry a woman from a poor family no matter what excellent attributes she might possess. Why, her English and her manner of speech are better than mine.”

“She was not a suitable wife for you.”

Edward sneered. “There’s many a woman from a wealthy estate you’ve introduced me to who didn’t begin to approach the breeding and refinement of Charlotte Squire. What do you think your precious Lord Jesus Christ would say? Was he a respecter of persons? Did he teach that the rich were righteous and the poor were evil?”

Sir William labored for words to respond. “It’s…not a question of…of that. You have been placed in a certain position in this world—God has put you there—and we must live within the boundaries He has set.”

“He has set? Or we have set?”

“Regardless of how you feel about it, there’s no need to take it out on our guest. You do not just humiliate your mother and me by your behavior. You humiliate your sister, someone I know you care for.”

Edward folded his arms over his chest. “Is she set on marrying him then?”

“There’s been no talk of marriage.”

“Why not? It’s just the sort of thing you and Mum like. Emma marries Jeremiah and connects the family to the Church of England. Victoria marries Ben and connects the family to a war hero and the British military. Libby marries this Michael Woodhaven and connects the family to the American aristocracy. Isn’t that what it’s all about? Isn’t that how Christianity is lived out in the real world, Father?”

Sir William shook his head, the lines around his eyes deepening. “Why is that you hate your own people?”

Edward’s eyes and face grew as dark as his father had ever seen them. “You betrayed me. All for your heartless upper-class principles. I will never forgive you for what you did to Charlotte. I loved her, Father. But that didn’t matter, did it? Love isn’t as important as keeping up appearances.”

Sir William stood at the head of the table in the dining room, a smile warming his face as he looked over his family and the servants who stood just behind them, ready to serve the evening meal.

“It has been a few years,” he began, using his House of Commons voice, “since all the Danforths were gathered in one place. And we are not complete yet. We will need Kipp for that. But to have all the rest of you at tonight’s meal is something for which I thank God. Emma and Jeremiah are here with the boys. We have Robbie on furlough from Dublin. Catherine—how good to see you, and though it would be lovely to have Albert by your side, we are overjoyed you could join us for the wedding. Edward is down from Scotland. Libby, who has been serving in France for so many years, is at our table again. She has brought to us a good friend whom we heartily welcome into our midst—God bless you, Captain Woodhaven.”

Michael smiled and bent his head briefly. “Thank you, Sir William. Thank you, Lady Elizabeth. It’s an honor to be here.”

Sir William went on. “I cannot overlook the bride and the groom whose love for one another has brought this happy occasion to our estate. Ben Whitecross, VC, and our beautiful daughter Victoria Anne, thank you both for gracing our table.”

“And we thank you, Father,” Victoria replied. “But I think you should pray. I’m afraid this is turning into one of your speeches in Parliament and we are all rather famished.”

Sir William laughed along with his family and servants. “Very well. I wanted to be sure no one was left out. Let us bow before the Almighty.”

“Catherine.”

She turned and saw it was Robbie. He had emerged from the ash trees and was marching up the path to the sea cliff in his uniform.

“Hullo, Brother,” she greeted him. “Have you been following me?”

“Not at all. I suppose we had the same good idea at the same time.”

They stood together on the cliff and looked out over the ocean. At different times it flashed, or grew dark, as the sun moved under clouds and through them.