by CW Browning
“No,” he admitted. “I feel sorry for whoever was ultimately responsible for it.”
They walked along in silence ahead of the others. The day was crisp and cool, with the sun shining brightly above. They went up the main road of the village, thanking those who stopped and called out their condolences. Then they were in the countryside, the road lined with thick hedgerows and tall trees. Surrounded by the comfortable smell of boxwood that Evelyn would always associate with home, she took a deep breath of fresh, clean air and looked up at Rob.
“How’s the flying?”
He looked down at her with a smile. “Fantastic. How’s the top-secret training?”
Evelyn couldn’t stop the grin that crossed her face. When the RAF resurrected the WAAFs over the summer, they had unwittingly provided the perfect cover story for her. Bill had quickly arranged for her to be assigned to a WAAF training base in Scotland. No one in her family knew what she did there, nor would they ever know. All she told them was that the work was classified. Her parents had accepted the story readily enough, but Rob never missed an opportunity to tease her.
“Top-secret,” she replied dryly. “Is it true you’ve been training non-stop since July?”
“More like August,” he said with a shrug. “I fly every day, and three nights a week. When Jerry comes, we’ll be ready.”
“I imagine you’ll be one of the first to know, flying Spitfires,” she said absently, her eyes darting to the left. Movement through the trees caught her attention and she frowned. “How do you like being at Duxford? Is it everything you thought it would be?”
“More,” he answered promptly. “The Spit’s a fantastic kite! Handles like a dream.”
They passed another hedgerow and Evelyn glanced through the trees again. The speck she had glimpsed before was on the other side of the field, moving quickly. Her eyes narrowed and her frown grew. Someone was riding a horse across the field towards Ainsworth Manor. She picked up her pace slightly.
“And your new CO? Do you like him?” she asked.
“He’s strict and keeps us in line, but he’s a bloody good pilot. I can’t ask for better than that.” Rob hesitated, then looked down at her. “And you? How do you like Scotland?”
“It’s cold,” she said promptly, drawing a laugh from him. “I’m doing something that makes me feel like I can contribute to this war, so I’m content.”
“I don’t know if this war is ever going to get off the ground, but if it does, the WAAFs are lucky to have you,” Rob said after a long moment.
Evelyn tore her gaze away from the speck in the field to look at him in surprise.
“Why do you say that?”
He grinned.
“Because you’re the type who never backs down, no matter what happens. You’re bloody-minded and stubborn, and God help any Jerry who gets within range!”
She laughed. “Speak for yourself! I feel sorry for the pilot who has to go up against you!”
Rob grinned, then sobered.
“We’re going to get through this just fine, Evie,” he said suddenly, his blue eyes meeting hers. “You’ll see. We’ll all be home by Christmas.”
The horse and rider came to an abrupt halt just outside the perimeter of the sprawling gardens stretching endlessly before the back of Ainsworth Manor. The original structure had been built in stone over three centuries before. Over the years, four separate wings were added and modern upgrades made, resulting in a massive labyrinth of corridors and stairwells. Two of the wings had been closed off twenty years before, after the last war had taken most of the servants from the estate. When the war ended and life returned to normal, Robert Ainsworth had left them closed, happy to occupy the remaining two wings and the original structure. They afforded more than enough room for his small family.
After giving the closed off sections a cursory glance, the rider directed his attention to a window on the lower floor, to the right of the stone patio facing him. He controlled his horse with a firm hand and they were both still. After studying the side of the house and the surrounding gardens, he slowly dismounted and tethered his horse, moving quietly through the immaculate lawns towards the house. The family would be back from the funeral soon, and it was now or never, as the saying went.
He slipped behind a large group of boxwoods and reached into his coat, extracting a battered old hunting cap and setting it on his head. He was under strict orders not arouse suspicion in the locals. After satisfying himself that he probably looked like a country squire out for a walk, he moved out from the shelter of the bushes, continuing through the maze of well-tended gardens until he was near the house.
The funeral would be just finishing up, and then there would be the condolences from the villagers. Silly things, funerals, arranged for the mourners to say goodbye to their loved ones. As if one could say goodbye to a corpse. Damned silly.
A sharp crack under one foot made the rider pause and look down with a frown. A thick branch had snapped in two under his boot. He should have been watching where he put his foot. Hopefully there wasn’t an over-eager gardener lurking around. After listening for a moment, he moved on.
Evelyn slipped past the stables where four horses were settled comfortably in their stalls. A quick check inside assured her that all were present and accounted for. The mysterious rider was not one of the grooms then, taking a horse out for exercise.
Crossing the stable yard, she moved around the east wing and scanned the scene before her. The South lawns were immaculate and still, the breeze barely disturbing the rows of flowers and artfully arranged hedges and bushes. Even the fountain at the bottom of the first lawn was still, water not pouring from the spout of the fanciful leaping unicorn. Everything was still and quiet. Too quiet.
She had left Rob and her mother in the house with the explanation that she wanted to go upstairs and splash water on her face. Once out of sight, she slipped out the door and went around to the side of the house facing the field. Looking around slowly, Evelyn moved forward. She didn’t know what she expected to find, but she knew that something wasn’t right. No one with any business being here would cut across the field on horseback when there was a funeral taking place in the village. It just wasn’t done.
A sharp pop from a branch brought her up short and she scanned the hedgerows nearby. Everything was silent for a moment, then she heard the unmistakable sound of a person moving through the garden towards the house.
She moved around the corner to conceal herself behind the wall of the terrace that stretched the entire length of the house. A few seconds later, she heard someone vault lightly over the balustrade and land on the flagged stones on the other side. Only two rooms faced the south lawn and opened onto the terrace on this side of the drawing room. One was the billiard room, and the other was her father’s study.
The click of the window casing caused Evelyn to reach down for a large rock near her feet. Her intention was to throw the rock into the garden behind the terrace and make the intruder think someone was there. When he turned back towards the railing, she could intercept him.
Before her fingers touched the rock, a chorus of barking erupted from the right and her father’s three hunting dogs came bounding from the direction of the woods. Evelyn stared at them, then stood up quickly. It was too late. She saw only the back of a tall man dressed in a long black coat as he disappeared into the trees on the left side of the terrace.
The dogs caught sight of her and lost interest in the man whom they had first sighted. Tom, Dick and Harry swarmed around Evelyn, barking joyfully in greeting. Dick held something clamped between his teeth and she bent to pull it away from him. Evelyn straightened up slowly and glanced towards the trees. It was a brown leather strip and, unless she was very much mistaken, it was part of a bridle.
Chapter Two
“Well, I’m glad that’s over, at any rate,” Mrs. Ainsworth said, standing. “I’m going to check on luncheon. I’m sure everyone is getting hungry.”
The fam
ily solicitor had just left after going over the will. There had been no surprises and Evelyn looked at Rob, who had got up and was standing near the window of the study, staring out.
“I can take care of that for you, if you’d rather go and rest,” she said, standing. While she was loathe to leave her brother when he was clearly feeling overwhelmed, her mother looked exhausted.
Mrs. Ainsworth smiled tiredly and reached out to take her hand.
“Thank you, dear, but it helps me to keep busy.”
She turned and left the study, allowing Evelyn to turn her attention back to her brother.
“Are you all right?” she asked, walking over to join him at the window. Her gaze lingered for a moment on the window casing. There was no sign of it having been forced earlier. Someone must have found the window ajar and closed it before they gathered for the reading of the will.
Rob turned his head and glanced down at her.
“Never better.”
She raised an eyebrow dubiously. “You can’t lie to me, Robbie. You never could.”
He let out a short laugh and turned away from the window, one hand in his pocket.
“Not for lack of trying.” He pulled out a cigarette case and opened it, offering her one. She shook her head. “I suppose I’ve just realized that he’s really gone. Nothing drives it home quite like being presented with my entire estate and birthright in a twenty-minute conversation with the family solicitor.”
“Would you rather it had been drawn out into an hour?” she asked with a quick grin.
He made a face at her and pulled a lighter out of his pocket.
“Heaven forbid! Twenty minutes was quite long enough.” He turned to go to the heavy wooden desk where their father spent so many hours. “I have to go down to London tomorrow to meet with him and go over all the papers, then I have to meet with the manager at the bank. And I have to try to get Damien Stevenson up here to go over the steward accounts before I go back to Duxford. How in blazes am I going to get everything sorted? Don’t they know there’s a war on?”
He dropped into their father’s chair behind the desk and stared glumly at the polished surface. Evelyn watched him for a second, then went over to perch on the arm of the chair, putting an arm around his shoulders.
“Damien is here now for the luncheon. Ask him to remain afterwards and fill you in on anything pressing. You’re already familiar with most of it. You were starting to take it over anyway. As for the solicitor and the bank, go to London tomorrow and do what you can. I’m sure anything that isn’t able to be done tomorrow can be done through the post. It will have to be. As you say, there’s a war on.” She leaned down and rested her cheek next to his. “Don’t worry. We’ll get through this. I don’t know how, but we will.”
Rob put his arm around her waist and squeezed, tapping ash off his cigarette into the heavy glass ashtray on the desk.
“Knowing you, you’ll just throw yourself into work,” he said. “What is work, anyway?”
Evelyn slid off the arm of the chair and went over to the side board where their father always kept decanters of brandy, scotch and sherry.
“You know I can’t tell you anything,” she said, picking up the brandy decanter. She held it up questioningly and Rob shook his head.
“I’ll take some of the scotch, though.” She nodded and poured herself a glass of brandy before reaching for the scotch. “I can’t image what they have you doing up there. What’s in Scotland except a bunch of haggis? Is that it? Are you on a secret haggis mission?”
Evelyn bit back a laugh and turned to carry the scotch over to him.
“If I am, I’m not telling you.”
He took the drink and studied her for a moment.
“Why did you join the WAAFs, Evie?” he asked, sobering. “In all seriousness? You didn’t have to. You could have gone to University. With your language skills, you would have done well. Why the WAAFs?”
Evelyn sipped her brandy and sank into the chair across from the desk, fighting the sudden wave of guilt that washed over her. Rob had no idea what she really did, nor could he ever know. It was too dangerous. No one in her family had any clue that she wasn’t really a WAAF. Once or twice, she thought her father suspected that she was up to something, but when the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force was instituted over the summer, he seemed to accept her involvement without question. Now, here was Robbie looking for answers; answers she was unable to give.
“Why not?” she countered calmly. “I have to do my bit, so it might as well be in support of pilots like you. And anyway, what else would you suggest? Can you see me as a nurse?”
Rob looked comically horrified. “A nurse? Good God no!”
“Well then.”
“Aren’t you bored?” he asked bluntly, staring at her hard. “I love flying, but I don’t see pushing papers around a desk in Scotland as being all that stimulating for you. You’re as much of a daredevil as I am, if not more.”
Evelyn thought of the rigorous training she’d been undergoing for months, training the likes of which would undoubtedly horrify her brother if he knew. She managed a nonchalant shrug and buried her nose in her brandy glass.
“I’m managing,” she murmured. “There’s some awfully good hunting up there.”
His eyebrows soared into his forehead. “Hunting?”
“Yes. There’s a group of us that go out once in a while on our days off.”
“So you push papers during the day and hunt on your time off?” He sat back in the chair and grinned. “I suppose you have it better off than I thought.”
Evelyn laughed and stood up.
“Stop worrying about me and worry about you and your airplanes,” she said with a grin, setting her glass down on the side board. “I’m going to check on Mum. Are you coming to lunch?”
“I’ll be along. I want to go over some of these papers before I come out and put on a good face for everyone.”
“Fair enough.” Evelyn turned to go to the door. She glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Robbie. You’ll be fine. Dad groomed you for this.”
“He may have groomed me for it, but it doesn’t mean I’ll be good at it,” he retorted. “Put me in a cockpit and I’m sure enough of myself. This is a whole different kettle of fish.”
“Rest assured, we won’t let you bankrupt us. If you really start to muck everything up, we’ll take over and force you out.”
He let out a choked laugh.
“Thanks for that.”
She winked. “Don’t mention it.”
Evelyn was crossing the main hall some time later when the butler opened the door to a tall man in an RAF uniform. Catching a glimpse of the familiar blue, she paused to look curiously. After a low-voiced inquiry, the butler stood aside to allow the visitor into the hall and Evelyn’s eyes widened. She swallowed and resisted the urge to smooth her hair as a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped inside.
“If you’d care to follow me to the drawing room, sir, I’ll let Mr. Ainsworth know you’re here.”
The butler closed the door and held out his hand to take the visitor’s hat. The man handed it over and turned, stopping dead at the sight of her standing in the hall.
“It’s quite all right, Thomas,” Evelyn said smoothly, moving forward with a smile. “I’ll show him to the drawing room. I believe you’ll find Robbie on the terrace.”
Thomas inclined his head, betraying only the mildest surprise at her intervention, and turned to leave the hall. Evelyn turned her smile on the tall man before her.
“I’m Evelyn Ainsworth,” she introduced herself, holding out her hand, “Rob’s sister.”
A smile curved full lips and a dent appeared in one cheek as he reached out a broad, strong hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Ainsworth,” he said. “My name’s Lacey, Miles Lacey. I’m a friend of your brother’s. We fly together.”
Looking up into his face, Evelyn swallowed again. Handsome was a wholly inadequate word to describe the
man standing before her. Miles Lacey stood well over six feet tall with thick brown hair that fell over his forehead in a careless wave. His eyes were a startling color of green, set above high cheekbones, a straight nose and a strong, firm chin. Only a faint scar near his right eyebrow saved his countenance from being flawless, giving him an air of rakish recklessness that Evelyn found irresistible.
“You’re a pilot as well?” She pulled her hand away and turned to walk across the hall towards the drawing room, taking a deep breath and hoping that he didn’t detect the faint tremor in her voice.
“Yes.” He fell into step beside her and glanced down. “I’m very sorry to intrude at a time like this. I’m on my way to Catterick to get a plane and fly it back to Duxford. The CO asked me to drop something by for Rob on my way.”
“I think he’ll be grateful for the distraction,” she said, opening the door to the drawing room and going in. “It’s been a difficult day.”
“I can only imagine.” Miles followed her into the room. “I understand it was very sudden.”
“Yes, it was.” She walked over to a chair and sank down, motioning him into a seat. “We’re still adjusting, I think. Do you fly Spitfires as well?”
“Yes.” Miles seated himself in the chair opposite. “Rob and I are in the same squadron.”
“And do you love flying as much as he does?” she asked with a grin. “It’s all Robbie could talk about when he joined up.”
Miles shrugged and smiled nonchalantly, but she saw the gleam that entered his eyes. Oh yes. He loved flying.
“I suppose I do,” he admitted. “There’s nothing quite like it. And you? I seem to remember Rob saying you’re in the WAAFs?”
“That’s right.”
He was looking at her with a smile in his eyes, and she felt her lips curving in response.
“Good for you. If you girls give a good show, you’ll be a lot of help.” He tilted his head to study her. “Where’s your station?”
“I’m posted in Scotland.”