Treasure of the Celtic Triangle
Page 32
She returned his smile, hugged him warmly, and left the room.
Percy and Courtenay exchanged a few more words in private.
SIXTY-EIGHT
Ladies of the Manor
The moment they were alone, Katherine gave Gwyneth a warm hug.
“Gwyneth, my dear!” she exclaimed. “How you have grown. You are beautiful!”
Gwyneth smiled with peaceful embarrassment.
“But what are you doing here? No one knew where you had disappeared to.”
“I will leave that for Percy to explain, Lady Katherine,” replied Gwyneth. “I apologize that we came unannounced.”
“Think nothing of it. You are both more welcome than I can say.”
As they were talking, Florilyn walked through the door. She glanced about. There were her mother, Gwyneth, and Rhawn. All three turned toward her as the door opened. Her eyes filled with tears at the sight. She walked to her mother. Katherine received her into her embrace, and Florilyn broke into great cleansing sobs. “Mother,” she cried. “I am so sorry! I’m sorry I didn’t trust you or come to you.”
Katherine stroked her hair and held her as she had not done in years.
Florilyn wept until the storm gradually subsided. She sniffed and wiped at her eyes, then turned to Gwyneth. The two embraced. No words were needed.
Florilyn now approached Rhawn, whose tears were not yet altogether spent either. The two friends embraced, with mutual words of renewed affection. “Thank you, Rhawn,” said Florilyn. “It took courage to do what you did and tell me the truth. I know you didn’t want to. But you did it for me. I am sorry for all you have been through and for the terrible things I said. You are a true friend. I will never forget what you did for me today.”
Just then Steven returned from outside after seeing Colville on his way and walked into the room. Florilyn turned and saw him, then came toward him with a peaceful, humble, embarrassed smile. He opened his arms, and she walked into them without hesitation.
“I’m sorry, Steven,” she said softly. “I treated you terribly. I have no excuse. I forgot who you were—that you were my friend … and more than a friend.”
“It is over now,” he said tenderly. “It will be as if it never was.”
Florilyn now turned again to Katherine. “Mother,” she said, “Percy wants to see you alone. He asked me to tell him where you would like to meet him.”
Katherine nodded. She and Florilyn spoke further for a few moments, and then she left the room.
Percy entered Katherine’s private sitting room on the second floor a few minutes later.
His aunt was waiting for him.
“Hello, Aunt Katherine,” he said with a smile. “At last I can give you a proper greeting!”
She rose and embraced him. “You seem to have come just in time.”
“I had no idea about Florilyn’s engagement.”
“I told her she needed to write you. But she has been very different since your last visit.”
“I noticed.”
“I should have told you and your parents, but … I was embarrassed. I suppose I kept hoping Florilyn would come to her senses. How I prayed you would come!”
“I hope all that is over now. I am sorry I gave you no advance warning. Our trip was very sudden.”
“You are always welcome, Percy—with or without warning. Though I will not be at the manor much longer, as you know. This may be your final visit.”
“We shall see about that,” replied Percy. “Though I must say this wasn’t exactly the peaceful homecoming I envisioned,” he added with a light laugh. “It appears Gwyneth and I walked into a hornets’ nest!”
“It is as much my fault as anyone’s,” replied Katherine. “Steven asked my permission to confront Florilyn about her engagement to Colville. I had no idea it would turn so heated and violent.”
“Colville has a terrible temper. But if it is any consolation, I think she will soon be breaking her engagement.”
“Yes, she told me. She already seems her old self again. Colville had cast such a spell over her. I am very relieved. And Gwyneth—she is looking wonderful! Who could have imagined she would turn into such a beautiful young lady.”
“Did either she or Florilyn tell you?”
“About what?”
“Gwyneth and I are engaged.”
“Oh, Percy—that’s wonderful! Although,” she said pausing momentarily, “I had been holding out hope that one day I would be able to call you my son-in-law as well as my nephew.”
“I am hoping that it won’t be long before you will be able to call one your son-in-law who is every bit the man I am … if not more!” Percy paused and drew in a deep breath. “But time for all that later,” he said. “Aunt Katherine,” he added quietly, “I need to talk to you very seriously. I think we should sit down. What I have to say may be painful for you. This is not how I envisioned it. I did not want to tell you like this. But events today seem rather to have overtaken us. It is imperative you know the truth without delay.”
“The truth about what, Percy?”
Percy went on to tell her the whole story.
She listened quietly, with occasional tears. “I think I knew it all along,” she said when he had concluded. “A woman knows when she is not the only one living in a man’s heart, even if the other is but a memory. When you wrote me after returning from Ireland, I knew you were trying to protect my feelings. You probably hoped I would think Roderick was involved in some business deal that he wanted you to look into. I appreciate what you tried to do. But when you were so evasive, I had the feeling even then that there must have been a child.”
“I am sorry, Aunt Katherine. If there had been a gentler way, or any other way …”
“I know, Percy. You had to do what you felt was right. Under the circumstances, this may prove to be for everyone’s good in the end.”
“Even Courtenay’s?”
“If it serves to humble him and make a true man of him, then of course. What is a title and property alongside character? I would rather see my children paupers, and me along with them, if that is what it takes to build the character of godliness into us all.”
“Hopefully it will not require quite such extreme measures,” said Percy. He drew in a deep breath then rose. “I asked the others to wait for us downstairs in the sitting room,” he said. “I told them I would explain more after talking to you.”
“Then let us keep them waiting no longer.”
“There is one thing, Aunt Katherine … I don’t know how much you want me to say, or—”
“I would have no more secrets, Percy,” said his aunt. “Tell them everything. Perhaps you should simply read the affidavit Roderick asked you to write out then tell about the letters and your going to Ireland and everything Mr. Barrie told you. After all these years, I would have light shed on it all. Please, you mustn’t worry about my feelings. We must have the full truth.”
Percy nodded seriously. “Perhaps Steven should take Rhawn home,” he suggested. “Then the five of us can talk among ourselves.”
Katherine thought a moment. “She has been through an emotional ordeal,” she said. “She should not be alone right now. I think it would be good for her to remain here awhile, with her friends, perhaps for evening tea.”
“And Steven?”
“Steven is as much a part of our family as anyone. He is Gwyneth’s cousin. However … it may be that we should keep Roderick’s disclosure among ourselves, at least for now. It will all come out soon enough, but … I shall talk to Steven. He will understand. He can keep Rhawn company while the five of us talk.”
She rose, and they left the room and walked down one flight of stairs where the others were awaiting them in the east parlor. She walked straight to Gwyneth and folded her a second time into a loving embrace. “You dear, beautiful, mysterious young woman,” she whispered into her ear, “Percy has told me everything. Welcome to the family!”
SIXTY-NINE
The
Affidavit
An hour later, after a break for tea and walk outside settling into old friendships, Katherine, Courtenay, Florilyn, Percy, and Gwyneth gathered upstairs in the sitting room of Katherine’s apartment. Steven and Rhawn were outside in the stables where Steven was introducing Rhawn’s son to the manor’s horses.
“By now we all know why Percy and Gwyneth have returned,” Katherine began. “There are pains to be borne, probably most severely by you, Courtenay, and myself. But the truth must come out. So I asked Percy to tell us everything.” She turned toward Percy.
“Before Uncle Roderick died,” Percy began, “he asked me to take down a statement he wanted to make. I know it may occur to you, Courtenay, to wonder why he made his confession to me rather than you or his solicitor or anyone else. I asked him that as well. His chief reason was simply that, should I prove unsuccessful in finding Gwyneth, whom he believed to be his granddaughter, then he saw no reason for any of this to come out at all. Telling me was his way of preserving confidentiality. I think he may have had some mistaken notion that my being a student of law gave the affidavit added veracity. It doesn’t, of course. Nothing I took down from him carries the weight of a legal document. However, I think that may have influenced his thinking.”
“If it is not a legal document,” said Courtenay, “then what possible grounds do you have for thinking I intend to sit idly by and be deprived of my title and inheritance?”
“You asked for proof earlier,” replied Percy. “Though it is not legally binding, I will give you what proof I am able for the moment in your father’s own words. What additional proof there is will have to wait for another day, except to say that I have seen the parish records, both attesting to your father’s first marriage and to the birth of Gwyneth’s mother. Proving Gwyneth’s maternity may be more difficult, but I am confident that proof will come in time.”
“Go on, Percy,” said Katherine. “Read Roderick’s statement.”
Percy nodded then unfolded the papers he had in his hand.
“To whom it may concern,” Percy began aloud, “especially to my dear wife Katherine, my family, and to Hamilton Murray, our faithful solicitor of many years:
I make this affidavit on the 27th day of June in the year 1872 in the presence of my nephew, Percival Drummond, son of Edward and Mary Drummond of Glasgow. I am of sound mind, but failing body …
At sixteen years of age,” Percy continued, “as a spoiled son of what I thought was wealth, I left Wales on a youthful grand tour, as we called it in those days—to see the world and spend money and generally squander my youth on the altar of irresponsibility. It turned out that my father was not the wealthy man I took him for. Before my travels were over, I was nearly out of money. I found myself in Ireland chasing the fleeting dream of riches in the rivers of Wicklow, though what remained to be found was doubtful. There my heart was smitten with a young Irish lass of working, though not peasant stock. Her name was Avonmara O’Sullivan …”
Percy continued, not without many pauses and breaks, as Florilyn and Katherine listened with handkerchiefs in hand and eyes wet. At length he came to his uncle’s final words.
“To you, Courtenay, if Percy is successful, you may hate me as well as him for what I have done and his part in it. I can only pray that it will make a man of you and that you will awaken to the claim of character sooner in your life than I did. You have the makings of goodness within you, my son. Heed their call and do not ignore them until it is too late.”
Courtenay sat listening with a sullen scowl. As if it wasn’t enough to be deprived of his inheritance in full view of this parcel of urchins, women, and cousins, he had to endure the further humiliation of being lectured at by his father from the grave!
“To you, my Flory, I have treasured our friendship of recent years. You have become a beautiful daughter to make a man proud—and I am assuredly proud of the young woman you have become. You will make your new husband a worthy and loving wife, and I am happy for you both.”
Florilyn could contain herself no longer. She burst into sobs at her father’s words. Percy waited.
“To you, my dear Katherine,” he concluded at length, “there are no words to tell you how sorry I am. You were the best wife a man could have—certainly far better than I deserved. Whatever happened before I met you, I only pray it will not cause you more pain than you can bear. But from the moment I met you, I loved you with all my heart. I love you now, and I will miss you until the day we meet again. Good-bye, my love.”
Percy glanced up, himself also blinking hard. Katherine was quietly weeping. Florilyn rose and went to her on the couch. Courtenay stood, his face stoic, and left the room. Percy and Gwyneth followed a moment later, leaving mother and daughter alone.
SEVENTY
Encounter in the Hills
In that mysterious process by which news spreads of itself, word had circulated through the Westbrooke Manor staff that something was up, that some great change was at hand, and that Gwyneth was at the center of it. They had been told nothing as yet, but whispered speculation ran rampant.
Gwyneth noticed curious looks coming her way from Mrs. Drynwydd and Mrs. Llewellyn and others of her former fellow servants. Percy knew her well enough to know that Gwyneth felt that her place ought to be with them, serving the family rather than pretending to be part of it. During that evening’s tea, during which Courtenay was conspicuously absent, Percy noticed her embarrassment as she glanced about occasionally, smiling awkwardly and almost apologetically as Mrs. Drynwydd poured tea into her cup.
He knew she felt out of place. Though Steven was her cousin, and had grown up no more an aristocrat than she, he had been part of the manor family and treated as such by Katherine for more than a year. Everything was suddenly new to her.
When Katherine showed Gwyneth to one of the available guest rooms on the second floor where she and Florilyn and Courtenay and Percy all had their rooms, she asked Katherine if it wouldn’t be better for her to stay in the servants’ quarters. For answer, Katherine merely gave her another hug. The seeming luxury of her new surroundings would take time for Gwyneth to become accustomed to.
At Steven’s suggestion and after he had hitched the manor’s large carriage to two horses, the four young people loaded into it and together accompanied Rhawn and her son home to Llanfryniog. It was well past nine o’clock and dark before Percy, Gwyneth, Steven, and Florilyn returned.
Of the four, notwithstanding her discomfort at being waited on by her former fellow servants, only Gwyneth was asleep by ten. The other three, in their rooms and alone with their thoughts and the gamut of emotions and reactions the day had produced, lay awake past midnight.
The day had not gone as Percy had anticipated. His chief concern had been for his aunt. However, she had absorbed the news of her husband’s past with all the poise and equanimity he should have known to expect. Instead, his thoughts alternated between the two girls who had been at the center of the day’s fray—Rhawn and Florilyn. He knew the next days would be hard for them, adjusting to the sudden rush of events that had come upon them like a flood. Rhawn, especially, would probably feel alone and easily despondent. They needed to get together again and allow time for the emotion of change to settle and dissipate amid conversation, laughter, and friendship.
He spoke to Steven early the next morning. Thus it was that shortly before noon, with a great lunch packed behind two of the horses, Steven, Rhawn, Florilyn, Percy, and Gwyneth set off for a long ride north and east into the hills of Snowdonia. The five were older now, quieter, full of many thoughts. New times were coming to them all. A good deal of laughter was interspersed with serious talk, but there were no races on this day. Profound changes had overtaken them in recent days. The future now spreading out before them contained many unknowns but also new opportunities. They were subdued yet also alive to those possibilities.
As they went, Percy gradually drew back and allowed the others to ride ahead. He watched them with a smile, reminde
d of the rides he had taken during his first summer here. Now Florilyn was riding at Steven’s side, talking together as they hadn’t for months. Gwyneth and Rhawn followed as if they were old friends. How different this was from the day when Rhawn had tried to use her wiles on him and they had encountered young Gwyneth watching from the treetops. She would now be the one giving orders, not Courtenay as he had that day … for this would be her land. It was a peaceful day. Many bonds had been renewed and strengthened, and new and deeper ones formed. These five, henceforth, would always be friends.
“Would you three mind continuing on without us?” said Percy as they made their way back toward the coast several hours later. “There is someplace I want to go with Gwyneth.”
They parted ten minutes later, Steven riding between Rhawn and Florilyn down the descending slopes westward, while Percy and Gwyneth veered north and again into the hills.
“Where are we going?” asked Gwyneth.
“Can’t you guess?” rejoined Percy.
“To my special lake?”
“I went there after you were gone,” said Percy. “I had no idea whether I would ever see you again. I suppose I went to be close to you. I’ve wanted to be there again with you ever since.”
“Did you see the horses?” asked Gwyneth.
“I’ve been there twice but saw the horses neither time. They have probably been waiting for you.”
Gwyneth smiled, and they continued on.
They reached the overlook above the crystal green waters forty minutes later. They dismounted, tied the horses, and sat for a few minutes gazing down upon the peaceful scene.
“Is this really happening to me, Percy?” said Gwyneth softly. “Or am I dreaming back in our cottage down near the village … or in our home in Ireland?”
“If you are dreaming, how do you account for the fact that we are both having the same dream?”
“Maybe I am dreaming you into my dream, and whatever you say is part of my dream.”