by Brown, T. J.
One of the men helped him up into his seat behind her. She turned her head to see. The men moved out of the way and her mouth got dry as they made arm movements to Jonathon, who was busy checking instruments. Her heart started beating rapidly as she realized that there was no turning back now. Mr. Dirkes yelled something to her but she couldn’t hear it.
“What?” she asked, leaning toward him.
“Adapt or die!”
She smiled and nodded and tried not to show she was on the verge of fainting. Suddenly the machine lurched forward and Rowena gripped the front of her harness. She might have screamed but she had no air left in her lungs. The engine whined as they went faster and faster. She wanted to close her eyes, but she didn’t want to go to her death with her eyes closed. Her father had called her his brave one. She wondered what he would think if he could see her now.
Adapt or die.
She was being jarred so badly by the wheels of the aeroplane on the field that by the time they actually lifted off the ground it was almost a relief. The wings dipped this way and that and for a moment she thought they were going to plunge back down to the ground, but they soon leveled off and began climbing steadily into the sky. She looked down and caught her breath at how rapidly the earth beneath was falling away and shrinking. Then they entered the low clouds and everything turned gray and foggy. Her heart pounded and her mind had trouble grasping what was happening, it was so far-fetched, so unreal.
She was flying.
“How can you see?” she yelled above the sound of the motor.
“I can’t,” Jon yelled back.
That didn’t make her feel any better. Suddenly the mist surrounding them turned into a shimmer of silver. The minute particles of light sparkled and danced around her like a microscopic ballet. The pirouetting glittered brighter and brighter until suddenly they were floating above the clouds in a totally different world. A world of infinite sunshine, where vast miles of blue spread out all around them and below, white and gray pillows of clouds drifted.
Rowena’s heart soared along with the plane as they dipped and played. Jon didn’t try to speak to her and she was glad, for there was absolutely nothing to say about the breathtaking spectacle that surrounded them. Tears gathered in her throat and eyes. She had never really thought of heaven, and her father, with his love of free will, had rarely spoken of his own beliefs, but up here she could feel the presence of God. Who but God could create such a wonderful vista? And who but man, created in his image, could build a way to view it?
Rowena twisted around in her seat to yell something to Jon, but couldn’t think of anything that would even come close to how she was feeling. His mouth softened into a gentle smile and he nodded at her, understanding the extent of her awe.
It seemed as if they’d flown on forever before he turned the plane, the wings dipping down low on one side, almost touching the clouds. Her heart beat wildly at the maneuver but she felt excitement stirring in her veins. What it must feel like to be in control of such a machine, to be able to do this whenever one desired!
Slowly he flew the plane downward and they disappeared into the clouds again, the mist chilling her to her bones. When they finally came out underneath the clouds, her heart sank at the grayness of the world below. But now she knew what it was really like, that there was a place where the sun always shone and mist glittered below.
As they flew, Rowena could see the town of Summerset as well as Thetford, a neighboring town off in the distance. Jonathon flew over a ridge of rolling hills. Houses, some big and some small, dotted the fields beyond and Rowena gasped when she spotted Summerset. For a moment, she was frantic to have him turn around, but then she realized that no one could possibly see her. She laughed at the freedom it gave her and twisted around to see Jon. He winked at her from behind his goggles. She grinned and nodded and they swooped down lower. Soon they were flying just above the turrets of Summerset, so close she could see some of the outside servants, staring up at them in wonder. She spotted a lone woman walking down the drive toward the house and she wondered whether it was Prudence or Victoria. She twisted to get Jon’s attention and then pointed. In response, he turned the plane and swooped lower, and coming up on the woman, he waggled the wings above her. She looked up, her hand shielding her eyes, and Rowena could see it was Prudence.
All too soon he turned the plane toward the hills and flew back to the field. Rowena closed her eyes, terror once again churning in her stomach. She remembered what happened the last time Jon had flown a plane and she could almost hear the snapping of the trees and the shattering of the wings.
A gentle jarring told her that they had landed safely and she opened her eyes as he navigated the plane back to the gigantic tin building and the men waiting outside.
Her ears were still roaring after the engine cut off and she wondered whether she would ever be able to hear normally again. But she didn’t care because it was worth the sacrifice.
Jonathon was helped out of the plane while another man helped her out of her harness. Rowena didn’t hesitate when Jonathon lifted his arms to her. He held her against his chest briefly before setting her gently on her feet.
She whipped off her leather cap, laughing. “That was the most wonderful thing I’ve ever done!”
His hands rested lightly on her shoulders and they stood only inches apart. A smile played about his lips as his blue eyes searched hers. Rowena wanted to launch herself into his arms to thank him for the ride, for helping her to see, for just being here with her. She laughed at her thoughts, embarrassed, but she met his eyes, more carefree and brave than she’d ever felt in her life.
For a long moment she thought he was going to kiss her and something in her hoped that he would, dared him to, almost, but then he pulled away and linked his arm with hers.
He smiled sideways at her as they walked away from the aeroplane. “Weren’t you afraid?”
For a moment she felt a twinge of disappointment, but was still too elated from the ride for it to last. “I was terrified! But it was so lovely up there. I wanted it to last forever!”
Mr. Dirkes was walking toward them. “That went off perfectly. I think the RFC is going to be royally pleased.”
Rowena looked up at Jonathon. “Is it hard to learn how to fly? How long have you been flying?”
“For the last year. And it isn’t too hard. The hardest part is what to do in emergencies. Sometimes all you can do is hold on.”
Mr. Dirkes chuckled. “Luckily, you haven’t had to do that too often.”
“You’ve crashed other times before?” Rowena pressed, anxious. “Besides the time I found you?”
“The crash you witnessed was my fourth, though two of them were takeoff mistakes. I never even got off the ground. But planes are much safer nowadays.”
“What happened with the last crash?”
“It was an experimental plane. Aeronautics is still a young science, and not all our experiments work the way we think they will.”
“Are there any women pilots?” she wondered.
Both the men laughed and she tensed. “Not many English ones,” Mr. Dirkes said.
“Why ever not?” she asked.
“I don’t think there has been any interest as of yet.”
“I should like to learn,” she said, trying to muster as much dignity as she could.
Both men laughed again. “You made that decision moments after your first flight. Perhaps you should think on it a bit,” Mr. Dirkes said, shaking his head.
“But I must say, you did make an excellent copilot,” Jonathon said.
Jonathon smiled tiredly and Rowena was instantly contrite. “I’m sorry. You must be exhausted. You should be resting.”
“I am rather knackered,” he admitted.
“Let’s get you back then, and I will take Miss Rowena home,” said Mr. Dirkes.
When they reached the inn, Jonathon took her hand.
“I hope that surprise helped you to forgive my boorishness a
t 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 wou
ld 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.