Ashton Park (52 page)

“Oh, much better than the king,
ma soeur.
Your brother is back and he has the Scarboroughs’ daughter with him. And their grandson.”

“Is that where Kipp flew off to the other day? To get them from Portugal?”

“Not so far. They were in France.”

Victoria pouted. “No one would talk to me about it.”

“They didn’t want you to worry.”

“Kipp flies like a wizard. Why should I be worried when he is in the air? There will never be German planes diving on him again.”

Christelle came up the stairs and took her free hand. “The man who caused the scandal. The groundskeeper at your hunting lodge in Scotland.”

“Buchanan.”

“He was making life, ah,
très difficile
for Caroline and the boy. So Kipp brought them here so that they would be safe.”

Victoria looked at her. “I’m sorry, Christelle. This must be…
très difficile…
for you. She was his fiancée once.”

“I know that. And I have always wanted to meet her.”

“Why on earth would you want to meet her? I should think you’d want to avoid Lady Caroline as much as possible.”

“
Oh, non, non.
We both love the same man. It has always been my wish to spend a day with her and talk about nothing but Kipp.” She laughed at the expression on Victoria’s face. “Well, who else can I do that with?”

“I am astonished. But what makes you think she still loves him? Caroline was going to marry Edward.”

“That was only to…to, how will you English put it,
modifier le nez Kipp—
tweak your brother’s nose. A game of wits between lovers.”

“What?”

“He still loves her.” She smiled. “Maybe he knows it now that he sees her again. But I always knew. And she is
impuissants pour lui
—helpless for him. It will remain that way so long as the sun rises and sets.”

Victoria was too surprised to speak at the calm way in which Christelle talked about Kipp loving another woman. Christelle laughed softly and took Victoria in her arms and kissed her on the cheek.

“
Vous êtes si anglais—
you are so English. I am not troubled. Kipp loves me like the wind. He will never prove unfaithful and he will never dishonor me. Oh, he will gaze at her beauty—for Caroline is the sort of woman who will look
moins mignon,
less cute, but far more beautiful as she grows older—like a day that grows warmer and brighter. And now and then there will be a kiss, I don’t care.
Il ne me dérange pas.
No, Victoria, truly it does not upset me. We have a saying among our women—
une partie de son cœur est avec elle, mais de tout son cœur est avec moi—
a part of his heart is with her but all of his heart is with me
.
I believe Caroline and I will become good friends once we have had the talk we need to have. Now God has given us the opportunity.”

“God?”

“Yes, of course, why not? If anything should ever happen to me I find it comforting to know she would love him and care for him and that he would not be left alone. Despair and grief and loneliness would not rob him of his life for she would take him into her arms with my blessing. Perhaps such a day will never come. But if it does I want my man to be loved by someone I love—and someone I trust. I thank God she is here.” She kissed the confused and troubled Victoria a second time. “I must go and peek in on Matthew and Norah. I hope my words do not upset you too much.”

Bewildered by the conversation, Victoria shook her head and a small smile came. “Not too much, Chris. I expect I’d have to be French to fully appreciate your point of view.”

“There must be some Norman blood in the Danforth family line. You could draw on that.”

“Norman blood? Don’t tell my father that.” Victoria made an “
oh”
with her lips. “Now I’ve had a contraction. Could that be the Norman blood responding or the Danforth blood taking exception?”

“
Non.
Truly?”

Victoria looked at her with widening eyes. “The last one was only ten minutes ago.”

Christelle put an arm around her. “Come. To your room. To your bed.” She called down the staircase. “Tavy!
Monsieur Tavy!
”

Tavy showed up immediately. “Ma’arm.”

“Please to call Dr. Pittmeadow. Victoria is going into labor.”

“I will ring him up straightaway.”

“And the others. They are all out on the front lawn hugging and kissing Lady Caroline. Tell them as well. I will take her to her room. We do not have long. Dr. Pittmeadow will have to fly to be with us before the baby comes.”

“I was having them an hour apart,” Victoria added.

“And you told no one?”

“They were so mild—but these—”

“Come along.”

“I’m—I’m a bit frightened, Chris,” Victoria said as they moved quickly to the room she shared with her husband. “Last time—”

“No, my dear,
this
is this time.
This
is a new time. You will be fine. You are birthing a healthy boy to be friends with my Matthew.”

Victoria laughed and winced, holding her stomach. “You and Kipp and your boy. I should have said something yesterday—I suppose it was my water that had broken—but I thought it was something else—”

“Shhh. Now it is one of the most exciting times of your life. Everything will come off beautifully.”

“Last time—”

“
Non.
There is only this time. This is your beginning,
c’est tois début,
and you are ready. You are strong, so beautiful, so loved by your man and your family and your God. This will be a wonder.”

“The pain—”

“Squeeze my hand until it falls off. I give you my hand for your pain. That is my birth gift to you.”

“Thank you,” gasped Victoria. “I believe I will make good use of it.”

Emma and Libby were on either side of Victoria when the baby was born. He was cupped in Dr. Pittmeadow’s large hands, and everyone laughed as the doctor slapped the child and he began to cry.

“Listen to him.” Victoria was crying and smiling. “He is so full of life. It’s wonderful.”

Emma watched as the doctor tied off and severed the umbilical cord. Then he placed the boy in his mother’s arms.

“Oh, dear God, thank You,” Victoria cried, “thank You.” She kissed the baby’s head again and again.

Lady Elizabeth rushed from the room. “I must tell the men.”

Sir William and Ben were seated on chairs far down the hall. The crying of the baby had made them both look at each other and smile and Sir William had wrung Ben’s hand—“Thanks be to God, my boy.”

“Come along, you two.” Lady Elizabeth was gesturing to them. “Come, Ben—quickly, you’re a father.”

Tears sprang to Ben’s eyes as he saw Victoria in the bed holding the child that Libby was wiping clean. “Vic, I can’t believe it.”

Her wet face glistened in the light. “It’s a miracle, love. Would you like to hold him?”

“Can I?”

“Of course you can.”

Ben took the boy as if he were made of glass and the women laughed. He gazed into the tiny face the way Victoria had seen him gazing at constellations at night or the swift flight of wild geese at dawn. He pressed his lips to the baby’s forehead. Then he turned to Sir William.

“Sir,” he said, “would you like to hold the child?”

“Very much. Thank you.” Sir William glanced at his left hand. “One moment.” He peeled off the black glove and dropped it to the floor. Then he took the infant from Ben. “Heaven bless the child.”

“Has your hand healed then, Papa?” asked Victoria.

“Yes, it is quite healed now, thank you, my dear.”

Summer and Fall 1922

“So Kipp and his wife have Matthew.” Catherine stood in the kitchen holding a letter while Albert sat at the table sipping tea and reading the newspaper. “Vic and Ben have Ramsay. And now Char and Edward have young Owen. We are being overrun with boys.”

“The election results from Dublin are very encouraging. The Free State has a majority. The anti-treaty forces will not have their way. The treaty will stand. The Irish Free State will come into being in half a year on December sixth.”

Catherine ran a hand through his hair. “Did you hear me?”

“It’s good news for Ireland. North and South. But better news for the six counties of Ulster because we’re free of all that and still united to Great Britain. Fine days, Cath.”

“Yes, I’m glad. But I can’t see the anti-treaty Irish just going home and drinking Guinness and letting go of their dream of independence. No more than you let go of your dreams, love.”

Albert put down the paper and picked up his mug of tea. “I suppose not. But the British army won’t be out until the Free State is established in December. All that time they’ll be making sure the legitimate government gets the guns and planes and armored cars. The anti-treaty lads will have nothing to fight with but a few old rifles.”

“They made a fight with those old rifles during the war against the British.”

“Hm. Well, maybe they’ve had their bellyful and will choose a pint of Guinness over another year of pitched battles on Irish soil.”

She sat down at the table with him. “When have the IRA ever had their bellyful unless they get their own way? Promise me you’ll shy away from mounting a letter-writing campaign to keep Ulster with Britain once the Free State becomes law on December sixth.”

“Why—”

“You don’t need to be involved. Northern Ireland will vote to remain united to Britain without your help. Ulster will never choose to join the Free State. Please stay out of the debate.”

“I’m not afraid of the republicans.”

“Well, I am. There’s more killing to come, Albert Moore. You can be happy about your election results but the IRA won’t lay down their guns. You know better than I how many clashes there’s been down south between pro-treaty and anti-treaty lads. It will be Irishman against Irishman and it breaks my heart. I don’t want to stand by your grave because the IRA got fed up with your letters to the editor.”

“I stopped that when you asked me to.”

“But you’re thinking of doing it again, aren’t you?”

He drank his tea and avoided her eyes.

“Look. I want life, Albert Moore. Not coffins and clay. And I don’t want to wait to hear that Libby and Michael have the next child. Or Robbie and Shannon. I want you and me to be next. And I want us to have the first girl of the lot. That’s not much to ask, is it?”

He laughed. “D’you know you argue more like an Irishwoman every day? Do you think it’s up to me to decide whether we’ll have a girl or a boy? Do you imagine your husband’s the Almighty?”

“Let’s just try, that’s all. Others can write the letters. The IRA have forgotten about you. So stay forgotten and make a family with me. Starting with a little girl.”

“All right, all right.” Albert poured himself more tea. “We’ll populate Ulster with a crop of Moores. I won’t take up the pen. I’ll take up fatherhood. Does that suit you?”

She grinned and grabbed his hand. “It does suit me.”

“Good. Now maybe I can have a moment’s peace. Do you mind if I read up on the rugby and football scores?”

“If you will say you agree with me.”

“About what?

“Taking up fatherhood. And motherhood.”

“I said yes, already.” He stared at her. “We’re in a race of some kind now, are we?”

“We are. A race against Libby. And a race against Robbie. I’ll not be at the bottom of the barrel on this one. I lost enough contests against those two when I was a girl at Ashton Park.”

“What?” Albert’s mouth was open. “D’you suppose this is some kind of childhood game, Cath?”

“It is. Are you with me, Albert Moore? Or against me?”

Her hand tightened on his.

“The Lord save me.” He stared at her. “You’re more Irish than the Irish.”

Sir William was supervising the unloading of the final pieces of baggage from the summer at Dover Sky. Lady Elizabeth came down the steps from the house quickly, a letter in her hand and a smile opening her face. Seeing her expression, he laughed and put his hands in his pockets.