by Jane Peart
The more Blythe thought about Garnet's invitation, the more tempting it seemed. Garnet had assured her that Birchfields, with its twenty bedrooms and large staff of well-trained servants, was adequate for all the people she had invited.
Rod must agree to go to England for the Jubilee summer! It was Blythe's chance—and maybe her only chance—to try to recapture that precious closeness that she and Jeff had once shared. If any more time passed before they were reunited, it might be too late.
chapter
9
Hurricane Haven
The Bondurants' South Carolina Island Home
"OH, HOW LOVELY, Drucie!" exclaimed Lenora, who was the first to respond when Druscilla told them about Garnet's invitation. "When would we go?"
"May, I suppose." Dru glanced down the table to her husband, Randall Bondurant, for his reaction.
"And how long will we stay?" was Lalage's question.
"That depends. Aunt Garnet says most of the events celebrating the Jubilee will take place after the royal family returns from their holiday at Balmoral in Scotland. That's in August, she says—"
"Imagine! Seeing Queen Victoria in person!" declared Lenora.
"This is her diamond jubilee as monarch. That's why it will be such a festive season," Dru explained, scanning the letter for details.
"Jubilee summer! I love the idea!" sighed Lenora, then turning to her sister, she asked, "Don't you, Lally?"
"Who else will be going?" Lalage wanted to know.
"Aunt Garnet says she's written to Blythe and Uncle Rod and of course, to Jonathan and Davida, too."
"Will Jeff be there, do you suppose?" Lalage asked shyly.
"Aunt Garnet writes that she's invited all the family, so I'm sure he will be. He's in London now, I believe, studying art. But he comes down to spend the weekend occasionally at Birchfields with Aunt Garnet and Uncle Jeremy—" She paused, studying her husband's bland expression again. "So, Randall, what do you think?"
Randall lifted his dark eyebrows and gave an imperceptible shrug as he signaled to Jerod, the butler, standing at the sideboard, to refill his wine glass.
"I'm not sure that your Aunt Garnet's invitation to the family necessarily includes me, Druscilla, my love." There was a slight edge of sarcasm in his voice. "Surely you've not forgotten that I've never been completely accepted by your prestigious Virginia family, the Montroses and the Camerons, to say nothing of the Chances."
At this reminder of the heated controversy over Randall's first marriage to her cousin, Alair, and then the second series of shock waves that reverberated when she married her cousin's widower nine years later, Druscilla's cheeks flushed. But she dismissed his comment lightly.
"Oh, for pity's sake, Randall! All that was years ago, and besides—" Dru halted, inclining her head toward her two stepdaughters and their own eight-year-old Evalee, who was all ears by this time—"Perhaps we should talk about this later—"
Evalee, alerted by the interesting undercurrent to this conversation, glanced from her mother to her father and back again. "You mean, not in front of me, don't you, Mama?"
"Well, darling, there are many things to be decided before taking such a long trip. Going so far away requires a great deal of planning and arranging. England, where Aunt Garnet lives, is across the ocean and—"
Evalee tossed her glossy dark curls impatiently. "I know! I've seen it on the globe. Noey showed me, didn't you, Noey?" she demanded of Lenora, using the family nickname for her older half sister.
"Yes, I did." Lenora gave Dru an almost apologetic look.
"I want to go!" Evalee thumped a small fist by her plate, making the silverware dance. "Please! Do let's go, Mama, Papa! We'll get to travel on a big boat, won't we? And I'll get to sleep in a little bunk and all the windows will be round.... I've seen pictures in the 'cyclopedia—" Evalee bounced on her chair, nearly sending it tumbling backward.
"Whoa, little lady!" Randall held up a warning hand. "Nothing has been decided yet. Your mother and I have to discuss a great many things before we make any decision. How does this trip sound to you, Lenora?" He glanced at his eldest daughter, thinking with a sharp pang how very like her late mother she was. But she was, thank God, totally unlike Alair in character and personality!
Lenora faced him, her expression serene but her dark eyes shining. "Why, I think it would be wonderful, Papa! Such an education! To be in England for a historic occasion like Queen Victoria's Jubilee celebration. Imagine, she's reigned longer than any other living monarch. She became Queen when she was younger than either Lally or I."
Randall threw back his head and laughed. "Do I detect an attempt on your part to convince me that this trip would be an educational experience for my family instead of a frivolous social occasion?"
Lenora had the grace to blush. She darted a quick look at her stepmother, "Not exactly, but then—"
"Oh, Papa, we must go, we must!" Evalee hopped down from her place and ran to the end of the table, where she threw her arms around Randall's neck. "Please, Papa, say we can go!"
"We haven't seen our Virginia cousins in ages, Papa," Lalage reminded him.
"The Cameron twins or Scott!" added Lenora.
"Nor Jonathan and Davida's children, Kendall and Meredith," Dru said.
"And I've never met any of them!" Evalee looked offended.
"That's because I'm the only one who went to great-Aunt Kate Cameron's funeral, dear," her mother said.
"It would be such fun, all of us aboard a ship bound for England!" sighed Lalage wistfully.
Druscilla laughed and raised her eyebrows imploringly as she looked to her husband once again. "I think you're overruled, Randall, dear. I believe I'm going to have to write Aunt Garnet and tell her we're coming."
"Well, you'd better tell her to rent us a cottage to ourselves. I doubt very eriously if Birchfields will be able to house this unruly bunch." Randall shook his head in mock despair as he glanced around the table at all the eager faces. But his smile told Dru they had won the day.
chapter
10
Montclair
Mayfield, Virginia
"DOESNT THAT sound absolutely splendid, Davida?"
Lifting his eyes from the letter he had been reading aloud, Jonathan Montrose looked over at his wife seated across the breakfast table. What a pretty picture she makes, he thought as he waited for her answer, with the morning sun making an aureole of light around her soft brown hair.
Davida put down her coffee cup with a frown.
"But, Jonathan, of course we can't go!" she protested. "You know I promised Papa we'd spend the summer with him at the Cape. He's already seen about renting a house, and he's looking forward to it so much. It would simply break his heart if I didn't come and bring his grandchildren. You know how much he loves Kendall, and he's not seen either of them in almost a year!"
"There will be other summers, Davida," said Jonathan mildly, trying to be reasonable. But accepting his aunt's invitation was something he very much wanted to do, and he was prepared to risk an argument. "This will be an opportunity for the children to be with their cousins and have the experience of a first trip abroad. Surely your father would understand. As Aunt Garnet points out, this summer is special. Not only because England will be celebrating the Queen's Diamond Jubilee but because all the family will be there—"
"All your family, Jonathan." Davida's reply was sharply sarcastic.
Startled by his wife's tone, Jonathan looked at her in surprise. "Tour family, too, Davida," he remonstrated gently.
"But if we go to Massachusetts as we planned, Jonathan, you would be able to be with your Uncle John and Aunt Frances Meredith. After all, they were like parents to you. I should think you'd feel even closer to them than to your Aunt Garnet!"
"You must remember, Davida, it was Aunt 'Net who took care of me right after my mother died. I might have been just three years old, but I remember the security she gave me at that terrible time," he reminded her quietly. "She cared
for me in every way a mother would, and she didn't want to give me up to the Merediths. She was simply complying with my dying mother's wishes in case my father didn't come back from the War."
"Your father!" exclaimed Davida indignantly. Clenching her hands, she looked away from the reproachful look on her husband's face.
She rose from her chair, went over to the window, and stared moodily out, oblivious to the elms greening on either side of the curving drive and the woods beyond, pink with dogwoods in bloom. "Your father—" she repeated, "was responsible for this mix-up! If he hadn't lost this place in a card game to Bondurant and then Druscilla deeded it back to you, we wouldn't even be here! We'd be living happily near Papa just as we planned!"
Jonathan looked shocked at his wife's outburst but kept silent.
Finally Davida spun around and faced him. "I'm not going and that's that!" she declared, stamping her foot. "I won't disappoint Papa. I'm all he's got. And if my being with him can give him some pleasure, then I intend to do it. You can go to England if you want to!"
"By myself? Without you and the children?" Jonathan's voice sounded as forlorn as he felt, remembering that other long, lonely time before Meredith was born, when Davida had gone north alone and stayed away for months and months.
Just then Matthew came into the dining room, bringing a silver pot steaming with fresh coffee.
"I don't want to discuss it just now," Davida said pointedly, nodding in the butler's direction as Matthew refilled both their cups.
Jonathan's mouth settled into a grim line. He knew that there was no use pursuing the matter in the presence of the servant, and sipped his coffee in silence. But inwardly he was torn. He did not anticipate with much pleasure the thought of accompanying Davida to the house his father-in-law had leased for the summer, of spending hours in polite attentiveness while Kendall Carpenter expounded his theories on the state of the nation and the world. Jonathan rarely agreed philosophically with the old gentleman anyway.
Furthermore, he was intrigued by Aunt Garnet's invitation to visit the Devlins' country home. Although he had often been urged to come, it had never worked out. Either Davida had been unwell in one of her several unfortunate pregnancies, or they had been committed to spending the summer at a place his father-in-law had ordained and arranged for them. Then there had been the births of their two children and the impossibility of traveling with babies. There had always been a hundred such reasons to refuse. But now he saw none that would prevent their accepting. Kendall was seven and Meredith nearly six, old enough to be good travelers and to enjoy the adventure.
It would be a treat to visit with many of the relatives he barely knew or had not seen since childhood. His cousin, Druscilla Montrose Bondurant, would be coming with her family, Aunt Garnet had written. But most of all, Jonathan viewed this as a chance to become better acquainted with his half brother, Jeff Montrose, the son of their late father Malcolm's second marriage to Blythe. Of course, she was now married to Jonathan's uncle, Rod Cameron, who had been their neighbor at Cameron Hall. The Camerons, of course, had been invited. Jonathan liked Blythe and admired Rod, and he had been particularly fond of Rod's mother, Aunt Kate Cameron, who had died a few years ago.
Yes, the whole idea of a family reunion in England appealed to Jonathan in almost every way. That's why this unexpected roadblock Davida had put up had met with greater resistance than usual. He did not know whether to back down, insist that his wife accompany him, or agree to the months of separation from Davida and the children.
Jonathan had learned through previous experience that an unwilling Davida was a coldly uncommunicative person. Only if things went her way was she the sweet, loving girl that he had fallen in love with and married twelve years ago. Beneath that soft, feminine exterior lodged a stubborn, willful woman. It wasn't all her fault, Jonathan told himself. After all, she had been pampered since babyhood. As a motherless child, she had grown up as her papa's spoiled darling, accustomed to having her way in almost everything,
Now, Jonathan feared, perhaps it was too late for her to change.
Almost from the first day they arrived in Mayfield, Jonathan had been made to feel guilty for uprooting Davida from her native New England and bringing her to Virginia when he inherited Montclair, the ancestral home of the Montrose family. Since then, Jonathan had found that giving in to his wife was often the price of domestic peace.
When Davida rose from the table, Jonathan followed her across the hall and into the drawing room, which Davida had completely redecorated upon moving to Montclair. It was handsomely furnished in the style of the times, with heavy carved furniture upholstered in dark velvet and a grand piano covered with a fringed cloth. Over the ornate mantelpiece was an almost life-size portrait of Davida's father, Kendall Carpenter, resplendent in the uniform of a Union Army colonel.
Whenever Jonathan looked at it, which was as infrequently as he could manage, he could not help thinking that his father, Malcolm, and his two uncles, Bryce and Lee, who had all served in the Confederacy, must be turning over in their graves!—to say nothing of his Grandfather Clayborn Montrose, who had refused to return to his native Virginia when it meant taking the Loyalty Oath after the War.
Jonathan closed the louvered doors behind him, then spoke in a low voice so as not to be overheard by the servants. "Whether you want to or not, Davida, my dear, we have to discuss our family's summer plans."
Davida took a stand in front of the fireplace under the portrait and turned to face her husband. "I've made up my mind, Jonathan. I will not disappoint Papa. We're all he has—"
At her words, a firm resolve hardened within Jonathan. If Davida didn't want to go, he would not insist, but why should he deprive himself of a summer with his own relatives? Why couldn't he for once, after escorting her and the children safely to Cape Cod, take a steamer from Boston and spend a vacation of his own choosing? As he considered it, the prospect seemed increasingly pleasant.
Part III
Voyage of Discovery
Aboard the Ruritania
Late Spring 1897
One of the pleasantest things in the world is going on a journey.
—William Hazlitt
chapter
11
ON SAILING DAY the staterooms of the Ruritania were abloom with flowers of every hue and description, while the ship's stewards were kept busy making deliveries through the crowded passageways. Every few minutes another bouquet arrived from some friend or relative, wishing the passenger a "Bon voyage!"
The adjacent doors of the Bondurant and Cameron staterooms remained open, and there was much traveling back and forth between the cabins and much sharing of congratulatory notes and gifts. Each delivery of a beribboned basket of fruit or elaborate box of candy was greeted by a shriek of delight from Evalee and ohs and ahs from Lalage and Lenora while Randall read aloud each telegram and card attached to the several gift bottles of champagne addressed to him.
"I didn't know we had so many friends!" exclaimed Dru as she opened still another envelope containing good wishes for their journey.
"Or so many admirers!" declared Lally mischievously as she handed Lenora a card that had accompanied one of the green florists' boxes.
Blushing, Lenora snatched the card from her sister, saying archly, "You should talk. I saw that woebegone expression on Frank Clement's face when he came to see us off in Charleston!"
"It's like a party! Is this a party?" Evalee kept asking. "Is this really a party?" Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright, as she looked from her mother to her two older sisters flitting about the cabin.
"This is the first of many, many parties, sweetie!" Druscilla smiled and gave her a hug. "This whole summer will be one party after another!"
"Oh, good!" Evalee said, spinning around on her toes several times in the small space as Druscilla turned to direct the porters wheeling in the steamer trunks.
"Look, Lally, here's one for you—" Lenora read from the tiny card she had taken from the top of
one of the florists'boxes: "He says he's going to miss you! I didn't know Bradley Farrington was sweet on you!"
Her pretty younger sister playfully snatched the card from her. Giggling, the two blond heads bent together over the long, white box, folding back the layers of green tissue paper to reveal dewy yellow sweetheart roses.
"Let me see! Let me see!" demanded Evalee, pushing her way between them to gaze into the box. "I wish somebody had sent me flowers! Or candy!" she said, her rosy mouth pursed in a pout.
"Don't worry, Evalee, by the time you're sixteen, you'll have dozens of beaux sending you bouquets and so many boxes of chocolates you'll be as plump as a pigeon!" Lalage told her, winking at Lenora over the little girl's head.
"I don't want to be plump!" Evalee retorted.
"Oh, honey, Lally was just joking." Lenora brushed back the dark curls from the brow of the frowning upturned face. "But not about the beaux. You'll be sure to have plenty of those!"
"Well, well, it sounds like the party's in here!" said a deep male voice, and they all three turned to see a tall, smiling man standing in the door of their stateroom.
"Jonathan!" cried Druscilla and rushed forward to embrace him.
With one arm still around his waist, Dru looked into his face. "So you couldn't persuade Davida to come with you?"
The brown eyes regarding her affectionately darkened. "No. She didn't want to disappoint her father. There was nothing I could say to change her mind."
The first night at sea, dress for dinner was informal. But the second night, it was understood that in First Class, shipboard protocol demanded that evening dress was de rigueur. The Bondurant party was scheduled for the second seating, and for two hours beforehand, Lally and Lenora were in a flurry deciding what they would wear.
Once it had been decided that they would make the trip to England, Dru had seen that their new wardrobes included a half-dozen evening dresses for each of them. "I'm sure Aunt Garnet has lots of parties planned for this summer, and I want you both to do your father proud," Dru had told them, knowing that Randall took enormous pride in his two pretty, older daughters.