Treasure of the Celtic Triangle (19 page)

On the continent, Courtenay’s newfound wealth was in fact evaporating rather more quickly than he would have hoped, largely from unwise investments at Europe’s racetracks. He seemed neither concerned nor inclined to moderate his expensive addiction. There was more waiting for him in a few months’ time. Once he was viscount, he would raise rents across the board sufficient to keep from finding himself in the same boat as had his father.

His father’s dream of owning a stable of thoroughbred racehorses of his own had taken possession of Courtenay. His travels also served the ostensible purpose of giving him the opportunity to make several purchases. He was not a wise judge of horseflesh, far too impetuous and given to the lure of externals. But as is often the case with such young men, his confidence in his decision-making prowess was of inverse proportion to its wisdom. The
last
thing he would think to do was seek the counsel of those older and wiser than himself. His hubris was well developed in the extreme.

The thought never now entered his mind of resuming his studies at Oxford. What did he need a degree for? By this time next year, he would be sitting in the House of Lords!

Steven and Florilyn continued with their Scots passenger through the gate into the precincts of Westbrooke Manor.

Katherine was watching for their arrival from the window of the study. The moment the buggy came into view, she was on her way down the stairs. The entire household staff was also aware of their honored guest’s impending arrival and had contrived to be at or near the front door with their mistress to greet him.

Katherine walked outside and hurried toward the carriage. She embraced Percy almost the moment his feet touched the ground. “Welcome home, Percy!” she whispered into his ears.

Percy stepped back and looked into his aunt’s eyes. He saw a new light of assurance, poise, and calm in her countenance.

In the six months since Christmas, the viscount’s widow had added more than a few strands of gray now that the milestone of fifty had come and gone. The grief of finding herself without a husband while still a relatively young woman caused her, even now, occasional tears when alone at night. But that she had grown within herself was obvious from one look deep into her eyes. Notwithstanding the tussles with Courtenay, she was more confident and self-assured. Many decisions had been forced upon her. She had risen to meet them with a maturity and grace that would have made her late husband proud. She continued what she and her husband had begun during the final year or two of his life, visiting the homes and shops of the villagers who were, even if but temporarily, her tenants and making sure their needs were being met.

Even with the prospect looming of having to leave her home, she was looking to the future not with defeat but as a challenge to be met with zestful optimism. She had successfully concluded the purchase from the estate of one hundred sixty acres stretching inland from the promontory of Mochras Head approximately a quarter mile at its narrowest up to three-quarters of a mile at the point of the promontory, bounded to the east by the village road and main road south to Barmouth. Now that Courtenay had laid his cards on the table, she was almost looking forward to the inevitable move to the new home of her design. Nevertheless, she was greatly relieved to be able to embark on the project in his absence.

Mostly, however, Katherine Westbrooke had grown spiritually. The sensitivities of her youth, nurtured in the home of a godly mother and father, had been so thoroughly stifled during the years of her marriage as to almost have receded into dormancy. The strong roots of that spiritual legacy had now revived and sent new life throughout the entire plant of her being. Not only was she now reading every new MacDonald novel as it came off the press, she was venturing into the deep waters of his sermons as well and had begun her own inquiry through daily Bible reading into the true nature and character of God.

Truly had she allowed the tragedies that had come to her to work together for good in her life.

T
WENTY
-N
INE

Reflections Past and Future

I
n the warm soft-scented twilight, Percy Drummond stood at the open window of his familiar room in Westbrooke Manor. It was late. Though tired from his journey and the emotionally draining day of visiting and laughter and rekindling old friendships, his brain was too occupied for sleep.

He was here at last. The moment of truth had finally arrived when he would have to decide how to carry out his uncle’s dying commission. He had put off the
how
of that mystery for almost a year. The future had arrived.

After today, learning of Courtenay’s intolerable actions, the urgency of his mission was suddenly borne upon him with new force. Perhaps it had been a mistake to wait so long. With Katherine involved in the construction of a new home on the assumption that Courtenay would be viscount in nine or ten months, there wasn’t a moment to lose. The perplexity, and seeming impossibility of his mission, again pressed with great weight upon Percy’s mind.

Slowly the words rose unbidden from his subconscious. Yet they were words his subconscious was training itself to pray with every inward breath and exhaling of his spiritual lungs. “Lord,” he whispered, “show me what to do.”

This visit was unlike any previous. He was, if not quite,
almost
a grown man. Florilyn was a grown woman. He had completed his studies at the university. This was no mere summer holiday between school terms. Eventually he would have to explain himself—what he was doing here. If he disclosed that he was on a mission for his uncle, questions would immediately arise. He must keep his purpose to himself. Yet he must also have some pretext for being here.

Still without a clear picture of what he would do, Percy turned from the window and blew out the candle to end the long day.

The next morning dawned warm and bright. Percy slept till after nine and found Florilyn and Katherine in the breakfast room awaiting him. “That’s as late as I have slept for a long time!” he said. “I have to say, it felt good.”

After a friendly visit with his aunt and cousin, Percy found the question he had been hoping to avoid suddenly staring him in the face.

“I had been under the impression you were thinking of law school, Percy,” said Katherine. “Listening to you yesterday, it sounds as though your plans are indefinite. I was actually surprised to learn that you would be visiting us again. Delighted, of course! Merely surprised. How long will you be with us? What
are
your plans?”

Katherine saw him glance down at the cup of tea in his hand with an uncertain expression. “Please,” she added quickly, “you are welcome as long as you like. You are always welcome—you know that! I am simply interested.”

“Actually, Aunt Katherine,” replied Percy, “my future is cloudy. I honestly don’t know how to answer you. Yes, law school looms on the horizon as a possibility. And of course Florilyn and I have to talk,” he added, glancing toward Florilyn with a smile, “and seek what is God’s will for us.”

“I understand.”

“This has become like a second home to me,” Percy went on. “As much as I love being with my mother and father, I am more at peace here in the country. With my future uncertain, I felt that this was where I should be to ask God about it. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. You are family. This
is
your home! At least,” she added, “for another few months. Once Courtenay turns twenty-five, the manor may no longer be home to any of us! Florilyn and I may have to spend a few months or a year in Glasgow with
your
parents while our new home is being completed.”

Percy realized that he may never have a more appropriate moment to hint at the most important reason he had returned to Wales. “There is another thing,” he said, choosing his words with care. “Before he died, Uncle Roderick asked me to … well, sort through some of his old things, papers and so on.” He hesitated.

His aunt was looking at him with an expression of perplexity.

“He, uh …” Percy went on, “he didn’t feel he could trust Courtenay to do it, he said. I’m sorry to have to say that—”

“No, I understand completely,” said Katherine. “Courtenay has not shown himself to be the young man of sterling character we had hoped he might be.”

“He knew his death would be devastating for you,” Percy continued. “So he asked me to put his things in order, I suppose is how one might put it. I think the fact that I was hoping to study law may have influenced him as well. He was under the impression that my being a
student
of law gave me a sort of legal standing if such became necessary—that while you were trustee for the estate, I would be able to act on his behalf as well. I assured him that I had no legal standing and suggested that he speak to his own solicitor. But he was insistent that he wanted me to dig into his past … that is … to see that legalities were being followed. I have the sense that he may have been concerned about Courtenay as well, afraid that he might try to manipulate affairs to his own advantage.”

“Roderick had good reason to be concerned.”

“Perhaps Courtenay was his chief concern. It may be that he preferred that I be the lightning rod for Courtenay’s hostility rather than you, that is if it turned out that Courtenay attempted to exploit his position prematurely or in some manner inconsistent with his rights as presumptive heir.” Percy drew in a long breath. He was having great difficulty avoiding the central issue of his uncle’s secret affidavit.

“What exactly … did he want you to do?” asked Katherine.

“Actually, I am uncertain about that myself,” replied Percy, thankful that the wording of his aunt’s question allowed him to answer with complete candor. “I think simply to go through his papers and files, put things in order for you. He didn’t want you to be burdened by anything. As I understand it—though as I say, I have been in some perplexity about it myself—he simply wanted to be certain that all the affairs of the estate were properly settled and in legal order. His main thoughts were of you. He wanted to protect you from any burden his death was likely to cause. Perhaps I should have undertaken the charge sooner. It now seems that Uncle Roderick’s fears about Courtenay were indeed well founded. Now that I learn what he has done, I regret waiting until now. At the time there did not seem to be great urgency. After talking with my father, we determined that I should complete my studies and then return here. It may be that decision wasn’t the best.”

“Whatever he had in mind, he chose you for good reason, Percy. What’s done is done. None of us can go back and rewrite the past.”

It was silent momentarily.

“Well, the whole thing remains a mystery to me,” said Katherine at length. “I have no idea what Roderick expected you to do. The affairs of the estate seem to be in good hands with our solicitor, Mr. Murray, and with Steven managing my daily affairs. But it sounds as though you have no more idea than I do what he had in mind.”

Percy did not reply. Already he feared he had said too much. But it was too late to take his words back.

“I assume that you will want to start in Roderick’s study,” said his aunt, interrupting his reverie. “I have been using it for my office as well, but he was right in that I had no appetite for going through any old papers or files. I have not even looked in the safe. So consider the study yours for now, Percy. I will remove my few things while you are working. If there is anything you need, or any way I can help, of course you will tell me.”

“I will, Aunt Katherine,” nodded Percy.

“And if you unearth any deep, dark mysteries, I will be curious to learn of them!”

Again, Percy said nothing.

T
HIRTY

The Green Hills of Snowdonia

I
t is a gorgeous day. How about a ride?” asked Percy as he and Florilyn left the breakfast room and wandered outside into the warm morning together.

“If everyone saw us riding off,” said Florilyn with a smile, “there will be sure to be talk. All the servants are dying to know if we are going to resume our engagement.”

“How do you know?”

“I overhear them,” laughed Florilyn. “They’re not so clever at hiding their curiosity as they think. Mrs. Drenwydd says that you have come to propose to me again!”

Percy chuckled. “Well then, it would be a shame for us not to keep them guessing. But we could go out as a threesome or a foursome instead.”

“With whom?”

“I don’t know—I thought with Stevie … I mean Steven. And maybe Rhawn Lorimer.”

“Rhawn!” said Florilyn in surprise.

“I feel sorry for her. And I like her. She’s lonely.”

“She was awful to you.”

“That was a long time ago. She’s changed. You know that better than I do.”

“How can you be so
good
, Percy?”

“I’m not. But my heart goes out to her.”

“It might be fun at that. I know it would mean the world to her.”

They walked toward the garden in silence. Florilyn slipped her hand through Percy’s arm.

“Percy, Percy …” she sighed, “what does the future hold for us? Do you think there is an
us
?”