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Authors: Murray Pura

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BOOK: Beneath the Dover Sky
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“Tough break, England,” he said as he approached Ben and Kipp. “The wind was in my favor. Perhaps God as well.”

Ben said nothing, but Kipp bent to smell one of the roses. “Great bouquet. A very pretty girl put them in your arms. Mind if I take the flowers home, Wolfgang?”

Von Zeltner gave a half laugh. “Take them home? Well, why not? There will be plenty more for me in Berlin. Here!” He handed the bouquet to Kipp. “And if your French wife doesn’t mind, you can take the young woman home too. That would spice up your marriage, Danforth.”

Ben saw Kipp’s right hand ball into a fist, and he stepped in to take the bouquet. “
Danke, Wolfgang
,” Ben said. “But I wouldn’t get my hopes up about taking the cup back to the Fatherland. They timed the flights, remember? And we took off
after
you did.”

Von Zeltner was quiet a moment. “Not so long after, Whitecross.”

“At least ten minutes.”

“We’ll see.”

Von Zeltner stalked away.

“Thank you for that.” Kipp was rigid. “I’m sure my father would have been less than impressed at his son brawling with a German baron at the Danforth summer estate. Could touch off another war.”

“Ah, but think how much better you would feel right now if you’d permanently hammered his face into the landing strip. You could have walked over that baronial snout of his every time you flew in and out of Dover Sky.”

“There’s a heartwarming Christian thought.”

“Right.”

One of the judges, thin as wire and sporting a top hat and tails, walked into the cluster of fliers with a clipboard. “I’ve just rung up
Liverpool and gotten the departure times for every plane. The judges and I have matched those with your arrival times, and I have the final results here.” The pilots grew quiet as he flipped through a few sheets. Glancing up, he spotted von Zeltner at the back. “Baron von Zeltner, I congratulate you on being the first across the line. However you were also the first to leave Liverpool.”

Von Zeltner’s voice was tight. “I took off in a group of three.”

“Yes.” The judge consulted his clipboard. “With Hugo and St. Laurent.” He looked back up and met von Zeltner’s gaze. “You had nine minutes and seventeen seconds head start on the second person across the line, Benjamin Whitecross. And he was only thirty-seven seconds behind you. Which means he beat you by eight minutes and forty seconds. Ben Whitecross wins the Lord Preston Cup Air Race!”

Von Zeltner’s face whitened. “I demand to see that page of arrival and departure times.”

“Certainly. You will notice it is signed and authorized by all four judges.”

Von Zeltner pushed his way through the fliers and snatched the clipboard from the judge’s hand. The other pilots crowded in and looked over his shoulder as he scanned the page. He dropped the clipboard on the grass and headed towards his plane.

“Are you not staying for the festivities, Baron von Zeltner?” the judge called after him. “It is Lord Preston’s sixtieth birthday and there will be fireworks at ten.”

“I will have my festivities in Berlin,” von Zeltner snapped over his shoulder. “They know who the hero of the hour is.”

“I see. Well, don’t forget to fill up with petrol on Lord Preston’s shilling. We’d hate to have Germany’s hero wind up at the bottom of the Channel for lack of fuel.”

The rest of the pilots swarmed Ben, shaking his hand and slapping him on the back. “Well done, Whitecross! Well done!”

Another ball of light trailed sparks and then burst overhead, forming
a blazing flower with seven golden petals. A great “ahhhhhh” erupted from the hundreds of people spread around Dover Sky.

“Mum?”

“That one was particularly lovely. Your Father didn’t want to spend the money, but I asked him when he intended to turn sixty a second time. Now and then we have to kill the fatted calf and celebrate.”

“Mum?”

“What is it, Catherine? Ohhhhhh, look at that—the colors of the Union Jack!”

“I want you to know that I intend to remain at Dover Sky through the winter.”

An explosion of green and white lit up the night sky.

“What did you say?”

“I said I plan to make Dover Sky my home. I’m not going back with you and Papa in the fall.”

Elizabeth turned to look at Catherine. Red flashed over her face from the next burst of fireworks. “Of course you are returning to Ashton Park with us. There’s no one at Dover Sky in the winter but Fairburn and a few other servants, and Fairburn will be leaving in November.”

“I want to be in the south.”

“Nonsense.”

Thump. Thump. Thump
. Gold and silver streaks shot through the darkness.

“Mum, do you want me to rent a flat in Dover? I’ve lived on my own in Belfast when Albert was on buisness trips, for heaven’s sake. Why can’t I stay at the summer estate?”

“My dear, no one lives here but the groundskeeper, and as the groundskeeper will soon be Skitt, it’s out of the question.”

“Why? He won’t be a bother.”

“A bother? The young man’s dotty about you. It simply can’t be done.”

“Dotty? You have such quaint expressions.” Catherine looked up at a particularly vivid burst of yellow. “I will go to Dover then. Or Folkestone. Or perhaps as far south as Plymouth.”

“Plymouth? What on earth is in Plymouth?” Lady Preston’s mouth opened slightly as Roman candles were lit and pumped dozens of stars into the blackness. “Ah, it’s Leftenant Commander Fordyce, isn’t it? You want to be closer to him.”

“I don’t really.”

“You’ve been out with him several times now.”

“Just to dinner.”

“Devonport is still a long ways from Dover Sky.”

Catherine folded her arms across her chest as bang after bang interrupted their conversation. “I’m not going to argue with you, Mum. I’m twenty-five. Certainly I’m well within my bounds to choose where I wish to live.”

“I don’t understand why you want to stay here.”

“It’s not a great mystery. Ashton Park pulls me down; Dover Sky lifts me up.”

“Why?”

“I can’t write out all the reasons why, Mother. It’s just that way.”

Six or seven fireworks broke open one after another.

“Very well since you are so determined.” Lady Preston gazed upward at the showers of colored sparks. “There must be more staff. You cannot have Tavy or Mrs. Longstaff, but Norah and Sally have been helping Mrs. Longstaff with the meals so they will be well suited to the kitchen. It’s quite impossible to leave Skitt here with you in the vicinity. Harrison must take over as groundskeeper. He will be amenable to that, although he will certainly miss his castle. Holly will fulfill the role of manager of the household staff. Hmm, and we must have more of those. I’ll send along Nancy and Harriet. They’ll do nicely as chambermaids, but we require a couple of footmen as well. You do complicate matters, my dear. It’s bad enough having Emma in London this fall and Edward and Charlotte taking up residence in Dover so he can start ringing doorbells.”

“But there’s no election scheduled.”

“There will be. Ramsay MacDonald and Labor have a minority government. Something always happens with minority governments. It doesn’t take long before they topple, and there’s another election. You
could always room with Edward and Charlotte, of course, and save me all this trouble.”

“No, Mum, I need to be on my own. Alone as I can be in a house you’re cramming with servants.”

“You’ll find you need all of them. People will visit if Dover Sky is occupied over the winter months. What am I thinking? You’ll require a butler as well. Liscombe? Tarrington?”

“Put in Skitt, Mother.”

“What? Skitt as butler? A young man who is a groundskeeper? Ridiculous.”

“Let him have a go. Skitt can do the job. He loves it here.”

“I’m sure he does with the queen of his heart in her bedchamber upstairs.”

“Don’t talk rot, Mum. And you’ll have Harrison and two footmen at Dover Sky in any case if you’re worried about appearances.”

“No, no, I’m sorry, my dear. Skitt staying is out of the question.”

“So now it’s just family and close friends.” Edward lifted a glass. “A toast to my father, Lord Preston! May he live to see another sixty years and another Conservative government before the year’s out.”

People clapped and cheered. Lord Preston disentangled himself from his grandchildren on the library’s couch and got to his feet.

“It may be more likely I see one hundred and twenty summers than I see the Conservative Party in power before Christmas.” Lord Preston waved his hand. “We’ve already had a full day and more than enough speeches. I’ve promised the children angel food cake and ice cream before their special birthday bedtime, their regular bedtime being long past. So pray, I say, let’s say grace and get on with it.”

“Father.” Edward held up several telegrams. “I have cables to read from Michael and Libby in America, as well as Robbie and Shannon in Jerusalem.”

“Do you? Bless them for remembering me. But those are easily read out loud while we’re eating cake, I think.”

After the family and guests had cake and Edward read the various
birthday greetings, the majority of the guests left for home. When just close friends and family were left, Edward announced, “There is also a special gift from Lord and Lady Scarborough.”

“Is there? Where is it?”

Lord Scarborough stood up. “Difficult to wrap, Lord Preston. But I’ll gladly take you to it in the morning.”

“Take me to it in the morning? Where is it? At your villa in Portugal?”

“Not quite, old boy. The gift is down at the Port of Dover—berthed.”

“What?” Lord Preston stared at him.

Lord Scarborough smiled. “I have not had the opportunity of presenting you with a prize worthy of your attainment to marquess and lordship. Now you are sixty as well. So many milestones. Not to mention our friendship. Lady Scarborough and I picked this out on our own. It is not brand-new, mind you, but it’s utterly seaworthy and comes with a glorious history.”

“What have you done, sir? It’s not a boat!”

“I would not call it that. It is a forty footer with a bow as keen as a saber.”

“A yacht, sir?”

“Indeed, a yacht, sir. She is christened
Pluck
.”

“I can’t wait for morning!” Lord Preston glanced around him. “Do you all understand? I simply can’t wait for morning!” He pointed at the couch. “All those six and above, come with me at once. Harrison?”

Harrison got to his feet. “M’lord?”

“You will drive. Bring around the larger Rolls, if you please. Lady Preston, you must join me. And Lord and Lady Scarborough, of course.”

“The Silver Ghost with the long chassis then?” asked Harrison.

“Yes, yes. Anyone else want to come along? I know this is highly irregular and the hour is late, but Lord and Lady Scarborough have indulged in a bit of madness and I can only respond in kind. Why, I couldn’t get a wink of sleep in any case without going down to the harbor to see this vessel for myself. I trust you are not pulling my leg, my Lord Scarborough?”

Lord Scarborough barked a laugh. “Never entered my head but once or twice.”

Lord Preston propelled his wife through the door. “If any of you are joining us, come along, come along! A glance out the window will give you Harrison and the Silver Ghost at any moment so sharp’s the word and nimble’s the action.”

“Lord Kipp, you’re not going with the mob?”

Kipp, glass of punch in hand, was staring at a sea painting of an English frigate clashing with a French warship off Dover, circa 1815. The lady’s voice was instantly recognizable. He turned quickly, as if he’d been struck from behind. “Lady Caroline!”

She smiled. “
Lord Kipp. Lady Caroline
. Why are we standing on social niceties when the library is empty, and you’re the man who saved my life?”

Her beauty filled his eyes and made him stumble over his words. “Don’t you—don’t you think that’s an exaggeration?”

“No, I don’t. Who else would have rescued me from France and that ogre Tanner Buchanan?” She was dressed in a gown the color of sapphire that heightened the blue in her eyes. “It’s been ages. Do you have a kiss for me?”

BOOK: Beneath the Dover Sky
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