Ashton Park (45 page)

Harrison arrived at Sir William’s flat on Wednesday, April sixth. He had driven the London car out of its garage and parked it on the street. The revolvers were in his luggage. They nestled side by side in a wooden case with blue velvet under them. The case bore a seal with an eagle on it. Sir William opened it and took one revolver out. Turning it over in his hand he admired the engraving on the cylinder and frame. He sniffed the long barrel.

“How many rounds did you fire?” he asked.

“Six from each, sir.”

“How was their accuracy?”

“Spot on. If you aim a tad low.”

“Does anyone know you brought the guns down?”

“I don’t know about bringing them down. Holly was there when I test fired the pair in the woods.”

Sir William’s eyes darkened. “How is it that she was there? I told you no one must know about this.”

“She pops up everywhere, sir. There’s not much I can say, is there? Seeing as she’s your sister and I’m the hired man.”

Sir William let out a lungful of air. “Quite. I apologize. I gather she is fond of you for helping nurse her back to health.”

“Yes, sir.”

“How many cartridges did you bring with you?”

“Two boxes of twenty.” Harrison finally removed his hat. “I’d like to know what this is all about, sir. If I may.”

Sir William sat down in his armchair with the silver revolver still in his hands. “Have a seat. Tea?”

“I’ll brew some up in a minute, sir.”

“It comes down to this, Harrison. The Scarboroughs claim Edward lay with their daughter and that now she has borne his son.”

“What! Edward?”

“It is what they claim. I do not believe their daughter’s story. But there’s no point in drawing Edward into the dispute at this point. It will change nothing. So long as Lady Caroline says the boy is his the Scarboroughs will believe her, not Edward.”

Harrison stared at Sir William and turned his hat over in his hands. “Is Lord Scarborough insisting on a duel then? Is that what this is about?”

“Yes.”

“With pistols at twenty paces?”

“Something like that.”

“Why, he’s living a hundred years in the past. No one duels anymore.”

“I expect he
is
living in eighteen-twenty-one rather than nineteen-twenty-one, Harrison. But if I do not go through with this he will blow up more fuel tanks and tear up more airplanes. And heaven knows what else.”

“D’you mean he’s responsible for all of that?”

“He swears to do more of it. And worse if I do not meet him on his field of honor as he calls it.” Sir William fished the sheet of paper Bishop had given him out of his pocket and handed it to Harrison. “That’s the place.”

Harrison scanned the map. “Old Fellows. Wild apple trees. The Strunk.” He glanced up. “I take it I am your second.”

“If you accept.”

“Of course I accept, sir. I’d not let you down when we’re dealing with the likes of this.”

“Thank you, Harrison. If the police lay charges you’ll be considered an accessory, you understand.”

“I don’t care, Sir William. Am I to meet the other second before the date indicated on this map?”

“You’ll meet on the eighth. At Tollers’. High tea at four in the afternoon. He’ll be wearing a white rose.” He leaned back in his armchair. “How are things at home?”

“Fine enough. Victoria came up the other day from the London airfield. Ben flew her. She’s less ill in the air than she is on the ground. Emma’s down to Ashton Park with James and Peter and young Billy. She’s taken Victoria under her wing.” He suddenly smiled. “The boys have the run of the estate, with Holly and Norah in hot pursuit.”

Sir William thought of his grandsons and smiled too. “What of Lady Elizabeth?”

Harrison clicked his tongue. “She knows something’s up. She’s no fool. You’d best call her.”

Sir William nodded. “I’ll do that straightaway.”

“Goodbye then, my dear. All the best.” Lady Elizabeth placed the receiver back on its hook and gazed at it a few moments.

Tavy poked his head into the parlor. “Can I fetch you a pot of tea, ma’arm?”

Lady Elizabeth looked up. “Tavy. Why, yes. That would be lovely.”

“Everything all right with Sir William, ma’arm?”

“Sir William? Yes…oh, yes. He and Harrison are getting along fabulously in London.”

Tavy disappeared, shutting the parlor door. Lady Elizabeth looked out the window at Holly playing tag with Emma’s boys and the two dogs.

Her husband had been pleasant enough. Their conversation had been amiable. But why was Harrison needed down there? To serve as his chauffeur for some pressing engagement? That sounded reasonable enough. Still—something was not quite right in the tone of his voice. Perhaps it was the connection. Perhaps it was her, fretting so much over Victoria’s health. And yet Holly had mentioned she’d been with Harrison while he test fired several guns off in the woods.

Rifles? Shotguns?
she’d asked.

Revolvers,
Holly had told her.
Silver ones with ivory handles.

His father’s pistols? From the American president? Why would Harrison be firing those? To my knowledge they’ve never been used.

I don’t know, Elizabeth. But I fired one of them myself. Lovely things. If they weren’t so deadly.

April 1921

Harrison woke Sir William in the dark of April ninth with a cup of coffee in his hand. They drank together without turning on any lights, saying nothing. Sir William finally switched on a lamp and read Psalm 23 from the Bible he always kept in his flat. Then the two of them knelt and prayed.

They left in plenty of time. There was no hint of sun in the east. Clouds and stars moved around one another in the early morning sky.

“My will is in order and is with Crofton and Bentley along with all my other legal papers,” Sir William said as they drove past buildings and shops lit by the glow of streetlamps.

“Yes, sir.”

“I know you will look to Lady Elizabeth’s needs if anything should happen to me today.”

“I will, sir.”

“And you’ll take Gladstone and Wellington into the Castle with you and care for them?”

“Yes.”

“And my grandsons—?”

“Sir. Nothing will be left undone. No one forgotten. But, if I may say, sir, I believe you are being a bit premature. Lord Scarborough could back out.”

“I hardly think so.”

“You were a gold-medal champion three times, sir, and won high silver twice.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“I showed Bishop the medals. Shook them in his face. Engraved with your name and all. Top shot in the British Empire.”

Sir William glanced at Harrison sharply. “You did not.”

“I did, sir. That wiped the sneer off his face, I tell you. I couldn’t abide his cockiness a moment longer.”

“It’s good of you to try and avert this confrontation, Harrison. But Lord Scarborough would not step back now if King George himself threatened to take off his head. I must see it through.”

“Perhaps you will knock him down first shot, sir. And that will be that.”

Sir William glanced at a dog wandering by itself along the street. “My feeling about Lord Scarborough is that if I wound him he will recover and demand a rematch in July or August. And if I wound him a second time he will challenge me again in October or November. And so on through nineteen-twenty-two and on. Until one of us falls never to rise again. I fear there can be no happy ending to this affair, Harrison.”

Victoria tossed and turned and finally sat up. The room that had been hers when she was single was completely dark but she could see Emma asleep in a chair on the other side of the room—she wore a light-colored dress that seemed to glow in the blackness. Victoria reached out for a glass of water on her bedside table, missed, and knocked it to the floor, where the glass broke apart with a sharp crack.

Emma’s head jerked up. “What is it, Vic? What’s wrong?”

“I just…I don’t know…”

Emma turned on the lamp by her chair and came to her sister’s side. The dark rings under her eyes and the sweat on her face made Emma put a hand to her cheek and the side of her neck.

“You’re on fire.” Emma filled another glass from a pitcher, careful not to step on the sharp pieces under her feet. “Here. Drink this.”

Victoria sipped at it, Emma’s hand behind her head. Then Emma let her sink back onto the bed.

“I can’t…” Victoria gasped. “It makes me sick to my stomach…”

“You have to be able to keep down water. You can’t live without water.”

Victoria shook her head.

“This is not right, Vic. I was never like this with the twins or with Billy.”

“I don’t know how I can bear another four months, Em.”

“I’m going to ring up Dr. Pittmeadow.”

“What good will that do? There’s nothing he can give me.” She grasped her sister’s hand. “Lie here. Tell me a story. Pray. Anything. Just don’t leave me alone in the dark.”

Emma crawled onto the bed and took her sister into her arms. “It will be dawn soon enough. I shall throw open the curtains once the sun is up and flood this room with light.” She smoothed her sister’s hair, which clung in damp strands to her skin and the pillow. “There was a young woman named Esther, beautiful like you, beautiful as the seven colors of daybreak, but no one knew of her beauty until one day a messenger from the king spotted her drawing water from a well.”

Bishop fired the second revolver at an apple tree fifty feet away. The bullet entered the trunk just below a large bole. He grunted and handed the gun to Lord Scarborough.

“It shoots slightly low, my lord, as Sir William advised. But it is dead-centered. There are five more shots. Both revolvers have five cartridges.”

Lord Scarborough felt the weight of the revolver, turning it over and tossing it in his hand. “A pleasant balance. Even with the long barrel—what is it, seven, eight inches? What did you say this was called, Danforth?”

Sir William stood nearby in the semidarkness, the other revolver in his left hand, the barrel resting along his pant leg. “It is a Samuel Colt invention, Lord Scarborough. 1873. The Single-Action Army. It is a forty-five caliber cartridge.”

“How did your father come by this matched set again—Roosevelt, you said?”

“He was asked to be part of a group from Her Majesty’s government that traveled to the United States. He got along well with the president, Theodore Roosevelt, and was asked to join a hunting expedition. This was a gift from the president.”

“I wish I’d had this at Mafeking during the Boer War.” He tossed it in his hand once more and glanced at Sir William. “I’m sorry we must use them on each other.”

“We need not.”

“Blood for blood, Danforth. I cannot forgive what your son has done. Look to yourself.”

A morning wind moved the young leaves on the wild apple trees back and forth. The east glowed silver. Bishop opened the lid on his watch.

“Ten minutes,” he announced. “Conditions will improve rapidly. Please prepare yourselves. Once again, I will count out twenty paces. When I am finished you are free to turn and fire. Lord Scarborough has indicated he will not cease firing until his opponent is dead. What are your intentions, Sir William?”