Summerset Abbey (24 page)

When they reached the inn, Jonathon took her hand.

“I hope that surprise helped you to forgive my boorishness at the hospital. I would very much like to see you again. Perhaps we can take another flight together.”

His eyes were the faraway blue of the sky she had seen above the clouds. “I’d like that very much,” she said, her heart giving a little leap.

He squeezed her hand and limped slowly toward the inn.
When he disappeared behind the door, Rowena felt as if the world that just moments ago had been bright and full of promise returned to the dingy gray it had been before she’d seen it.

*   *   *

Breathlessly, she skipped into the house, a story at the ready in case anyone asked where she had been and who the strange man was who had driven her home.

She handed her coat to Cairns, who’d entered the Great Hall moments after she had. How he never missed anything that happened within the house was beyond her. No doubt he had a network of spies at his disposal. “Good evening, Cairns. It’s quite bitter outside. Could you have Prudence bring some tea to my room?” She would tell Prudence every blasted thing and beg her forgiveness for her earlier blunders. Life suddenly felt too beautiful for her to have misunderstandings with the people she loved.

“Your uncle has requested that you go straight to his study as soon as you come in, Miss Rowena.”

She froze. Had her uncle discovered something? How? “Oh, how long has he been waiting? I lost track of time, you see.” She watched his face, hoping to garner a clue as to how dire the situation was.

“I’m not quite sure, miss.” His face remained impassive, but she detected a note of disapproval.

“I’ll just go to my room and tidy up, I must look a sight. You may have my tea taken directly to Uncle’s office.”

She unbuttoned her gloves as she hurried up the stairs. What could her uncle possibly want with her? A sense of foreboding filled her. What if he already knew she’d had tea with two strange men in town? And why wouldn’t he? Her uncle had many contacts in town.

She burst into her bedroom, trembling with all she had seen and done and yet anxious over her uncle’s summons. She needed to clean up before she saw him, but where was Prudence? Then she remembered how they parted that afternoon and reality came crashing down on her. Oh. She sat heavily on the edge of a chair and pressed her hand against her forehead, once again overwhelmed by her own inability to make things right.

She eyed the bell ringer to call Prudence, but hesitated to use it again. Prudence was already angry with her. Calling her like a maid, again, would only further irritate her. On the other hand, she did need help. Her uncle was waiting for her and wasn’t that what sisters were supposed to do? Help each other?

She was saved from ringing the bell, however, when Prudence came through the door. Her pretty features were impassive, neutral, and Rowena flushed with a myriad of emotions running through her: anger, guilt, annoyance, and most of all regret, because a couple of months ago, Prudence would have been the first person she would have run to after today’s experience. No one could listen as well as Prudence could.

“My uncle wants to talk to me. Could you help me get ready? I don’t want to be late.”

Prudence nodded but said nothing.

“I’ll just change into a fresh blouse and redo my hair, I don’t want to keep him waiting.”

Her voice must have betrayed her anxiety, because Prudence gave her a worried look.

“Do you think he found out where you went?” she finally asked, brushing out Rowena’s hair.

Rowena shrugged, trying not to feel so much relief that Prudence still cared enough to worry about her. “I’m not sure. Maybe.”
She paused, but then couldn’t help herself. She had to tell someone . . . “I went flying in an aeroplane today!” she burst out. “For real!”

Prudence’s mouth fell open. “I thought you were just going to tea?”

“We did. He took me after. In his aeroplane.”

“You went to tea with someone who has an aeroplane?” Prudence’s voice squeaked at the end of the sentence and Rowena laughed. This felt good. Almost like it used to. The thought both gladdened and saddened her.
How things have changed,
she thought.

Then comprehension widened Prudence’s green eyes. “That was you who gave me such a fright! I thought the world was coming to an end!” Prudence finished pinning up her hair and handed Rowena a wide belt for her skirt. “And now your uncle wants to see you? That does not bode well.”

Rowena shook her head. “No. It doesn’t.” She stood awkwardly. In the old days she would have given Prudence a hug and apologized for her behavior and all would be well between them. Prudence had one of the biggest hearts of anyone she had ever known. But now . . . now there was so much to apologize for, and what good would an apology do if nothing changed afterward?

Prudence picked up the discarded blouse. “You’d best go see what your uncle wants.”

Rowena hesitated, but couldn’t think of anything to say that would fix things between them. “Yes, of course. Thank you.”

Dejected, she made her way to her uncle’s study and took a deep breath before knocking on the door. When a voice bade her enter she did so. She wasn’t sure she’d ever been in this particular
room. No doubt it had been strictly off-limits when they were all children. The study, however, suited her uncle exactly. Spanish leather paneled the walls, lending the room a rich, serious air. She recognized the French lines of the dark furniture, and several austere Dutch masterpieces graced the walls. The odd object in the room was a small grand piano inlaid with delicate mother-of-pearl tucked away in one corner.

She curtsied before her uncle and sat on the leather sofa he indicated. He sat across from her and crossed his legs.

“Do you play, Uncle?”

He looked startled. She waved a hand toward the pianoforte and a rare smile crossed his face.

“I used to play. I still do on occasion, though I’m seriously out of practice now. Do you girls play? I’m afraid there was much I missed out on when you were growing up so far from Summerset.”

A timid knock on the door signaled their tea and, after pouring some for herself and her uncle, she took a grateful sip, letting the pungent flavor firm her resolve not to let her nerves be overwhelmed this time. She had done nothing wrong, after all, and she was clearly of age.

“I have some news to discuss with you, but first feel it prudent to inquire as to who dropped you off at Summerset this evening and why he wasn’t introduced?”

She was ready for that one. “That was one Mr. Dirkes. He owns a motorcar factory in Surrey. He also manufactures aeroplanes for the Royal Flying Corps. I ran into him and a friend in town and had tea. It was getting dark, and I felt it unwise to walk home alone and so persuaded him to offer a ride. I would have introduced him, but he was anxious to get back to Surrey.”
She took another sip from her tea, hoping she hadn’t sounded too rehearsed.

Her uncle nodded. “I’ve heard of Mr. Dirkes. His company is doing some very interesting work in aeronautics.” He actually laughed out loud at the look on her face. “Did you think me incapable of changing my mind? I’ve come to think that aeroplanes are perhaps here to stay. You must remember that I’m not just a landowner, I’m a businessman, which has held Summerset in good stead. While many old estates are struggling for money, or having to sell out altogether, the Buxtons and Summerset remain solvent, due in part to the hard choices I’ve had to make.

“Your father . . .” Here her uncle stumbled, and a lump rose in her throat as she realized that he must be missing his younger brother, no matter how little they had in common. “Your father was not a businessman, and was often just as glad to leave the business side of Summerset in my hands, though if he had moral reservations with an investment, he had no compunction about telling me so.”

Rowena smiled through the tears in her throat. How like her father. “Did he often win?”

Her uncle gave her a rueful grin. “On occasion he would make his point and I would pull an investment, usually over what he called human rights. But other times, for the good of Summerset, I would have to follow my own instincts and he would either bow to my experience or give me the cold shoulder for several months.”

During the last part of her uncle’s speech, Rowena had a bad feeling creep over her and she knew he was preparing her for something unpleasant. “You’ve sold our house,” she blurted out.

He stopped, surprised, and then shook his head. “No, actually, I haven’t. But I did let it out. It’s a long-term lease; the contract is for seven years. By that time, you and Victoria will be settled with husbands and you will know better what you both want to do with the house. It would have been easier to just sell it, mind you, but I won’t have you running about thinking I’m an ogre.” Rowena disintegrated into tears. Calmly, her uncle handed her a white linen handkerchief monogrammed with the Buxton crest.

“The staff?” She sniffled.

He smiled. “All but one wished to stay on for the new people, Americans with more gold than breeding.”

“Who didn’t want to stay?” Rowena asked curiously.

“The scullery girl. It seems my brother was paying for her secretarial course and she obtained a job at an office down at the shipyards.”

It was so like her father to help Katie, but while a small part of her was pleased for Katie, the truth settled more deeply in Rowena’s heart. While they might still have a home, they had no place to go home to.

Because they were already home.

Summerset was their home now, and, in a way, it always had been, Rowena suddenly realized. They’d spent almost every summer here since they were children. They knew its secrets, the best meadows for gymkhanas, the best places for a rope swing into the water, which groomsmen to avoid and which could be persuaded to look the other way. Even Victoria’s sickness occurred less frequently here in the countryside than it did in the city. Summerset was their home, their only home now.

But it wasn’t Prudence’s. Prudence truly had no home.

Rowena only half listened as her uncle went on about how
happy he and her aunt were to have them live at Summerset full-time until they were married. He stood, signaling that their meeting was over. He patted her shoulder and Rowena felt more than ever like a child being patronized and comforted at the same time. All she could think of was the words echoing in her own head.

How am I going to tell Prudence?

P
rudence’s garret looked as if a dress shop had been plucked from Bond Street by a mighty wind and tossed into her room. She had emptied the chests of all the dresses she had brought with her. Of course, she hadn’t known when she packed them that only three of them were even remotely suitable for the work she was now doing.

She stood in her chemise uncertainly, wishing she could ask Rowena for advice on what to wear, just as Rowena had asked her a few days ago. But Rowena had never returned from her meeting with her uncle and had been avoiding her ever since, and Victoria, too, was nowhere to be found.

So instead of Rowena or Victoria helping her choose a dress for her outing with Andrew, it was Susie, who was so awed by Prudence’s finery; she was much less helpful than Prudence had hoped.

“Oh, look at these stockings,” Susie moaned, pulling out a pair of silk stockings so sheer, you could almost see through them.

Prudence smiled indulgently. So far all Susie had done was create a mess as she dove through the chests, tossing things here and there in an orgy of delight.

“You can keep them if you like,” Prudence told her. “I’ve got six pairs.”

Susie’s blue eyes widened as she stuffed them in the pocket of her apron and then pulled out four pairs of soft kid gloves. Each was of a different length and she rubbed one of them reverently against her cheek. “The leather is so soft they feel almost like velvet.”

Prudence gave a sharp sigh. She’d been a different girl when she’d packed for Summerset, thinking that she, like Victoria and Rowena, would be required to change her clothes several times a day—that she might go visiting at nearby estates and need tea gowns and dinner dresses and riding clothes.

She’d been a fool, that’s what she’d been.

Biting her lip, she turned to Susie. “But what should I wear?”

Susie pointed at a wispy black lace dinner dress trimmed with lustrous jet beads at the hem and neckline.

“That’s hardly appropriate for a tour of Summerset and dinner at the inn.” According to Susie, who heard it from one of the housemaids, who heard it from the mechanic, who heard it from Andrew himself, he was taking Prudence to the inn for dinner. With a pang, Prudence realized it would cost him almost a month’s salary. She wondered how offended he would be if she offered to pay. Prudence had some money of her own, and her mother had left her eight hundred pounds when she had died. Sir Philip had told her not to touch it and she had taken his advice. And like Rowena and Victoria, she always carried the five pounds for emergencies he had demanded they carry on their person at all times.