Summerset Abbey: A Bloom in Winter

by Brown, T. J.

  “Thank you for coming so quickly,” Kit said once they were in his motorcar. “I’ve never in my life felt so helpless. Perhaps her uncle will be able to do something. Three months is ridiculous.”

  Prudence twisted around at the pain in Kit’s voice. “And what is your stake in all this, Mr. Kittredge?”

  Kit was silent as the motorcar moved slowly through the twilight. Finally he said, “She’s my friend.”

  “It sounds a bit more than that.”

  Kit laughed without amusement. “I don’t know what it is, really. It snuck up on me.”

  He paused and Prudence could barely see his profile across the expanse of the seat. “If I can talk her into it, I’ll be the first of the Coterie to get married,” he confessed.

  “Married?” Prudence shook her head. “Victoria had always said she wouldn’t marry. And I believe her.”

  Kit nodded. “I know. I have my work cut out for me.”

  “Good luck. Perhaps you and Victoria can have a double wedding with Rowena and Sebastian.”

  Kit snorted. “Hardly. Those two will never get married.”

  Prudence straightened. “Why do you say that? They’re engaged, aren’t they?”

  He shrugged. “It’s a ruse. Rowena is in love with someone her family wouldn’t approve of. Sebastian fessed up to it.”

  Prudence’s heart stopped cold. She wanted to barrage him with questions, but at the same time she longed for him to take it back so she never had to think about Sebastian again. Why hadn’t she left well enough alone? It wounded her to think of Sebastian with Rowena, but at least then she had closure, and, more important, she took comfort in knowing that she wasn’t responsible for his loneliness. That he loved again as she did—because she did love Andrew. Maybe not in the same way that she loved Sebastian, but she loved Andrew’s kind soul, his steadfast loyalty, and his quiet strength. And she needed, no, she wanted, to stay true to him no matter the cost.

  Even if it broke her heart.

  CHAPTER

  EIGHTEEN

  Rowena galloped up to the front of the Wells Manor, her heart soaring. Last time she’d seen Jon, he told her he would be home this week and—if she could manage to make it back to Summerset—she would finally get her solo flight. She thought they would be back much sooner, but that was before Victoria went missing. But now . . . delight bubbled up from deep within and she laughed as she reined in her horse. Part of her felt guilty for her happiness, like she shouldn’t feel this way with her little sister still in prison, but she couldn’t help it. The thought of flying with Jon filled her with such joy that it could only escape in laughter.

  She’d told her aunt she wanted to go home to Summerset to make sure everything was ready for Victoria’s arrival. There was little for her to do in London, after all. Uncle Conrad and his solicitor had finally obtained a meeting with the governor of the prison and succeeded in getting Victoria’s sentence reduced to eight weeks. Eight weeks was still horrific, but Victoria had a cell of her own and was, for the most part, kept separate from the rest of the prison population except during chapel and exercise. She just had to endure.

  Rowena dismounted from her horse and was about to tie him up when a voice sounded behind her.

  “You’re not welcome here anymore, Miss Buxton, so just get back up on your horse and leave.”

  She turned to find George with his arms crossed, staring at her. The gloating smile on his face unnerved her.

  “I’m not here to see you, George, I’m looking for Jon. He said he would be here this week.”

  “He already left.”

  Her stomach twisted at the satisfaction in his voice. Something was radically wrong. She wrapped the reins around the pole and went to move past him. “I’ll just go see your mother and Cristobel, then.”

  He grabbed her arm and shoved her back toward the horse. “I said you weren’t welcome here.”

  Rowena froze for a moment. “How dare you handle me like that? How dare you touch me?” Her voice sounded shriller than she meant it to, but alarm had her pulse racing.

  “Why? Am I not blue-blooded enough to touch you like your fiancé? Jon told me what he saw and said that he was done with you.”

  Her heart began to pound. “Where is he?”

  “I wouldn’t tell you anything. All I know is that you broke his heart just like I knew you would. Buxtons are good for nothing else. Now get back on your horse. You aren’t welcome here.”

  He leaned forward and she stepped back against her horse. She didn’t want to turn her back on George, but she unwrapped the reins and mounted her sidestepping animal, who was just as unnerved by George as Rowena was.

  She started to canter away when she heard her name being called. Cristobel came running out of the garden, her hair whipping around her face.

  “Rowena!” the girl cried again. Rowena rode up to her. “Jon is at the airstrip. Go find him and make things right.”

  Rowena leaned low on her horse’s neck and touched the girl’s cheek. “Thank you.”

  “Cristobel!” George screamed from behind them. “Get into the house!”

  “I should go,” Cristobel said, backing away.

  Rowena nodded. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”

  She wondered about that as she galloped her horse past George and down the road. To spare her horse she interspersed walking with cantering all the way to the barn where the planes were held, even though her heart pulsed with apprehension. George might not have known that her engagement was fake, but Jon certainly did. What could Jon have seen that would have possessed him to tell his brother that he was done with her? There were several motors in front of the barn when she rode up. She tied her horse to the back of the barn, away from the planes, and hurried around to the front. She spotted Mr. Dirkes standing near one of the motorcars, watching as a plane disappeared over the horizon.

  “Mr. Dirkes! Where’s Jon?”

  He turned to her, his red drooping mustache as sad as his eyes. “He just took the plane up. He’s in a foul mood, missy. I didn’t want him to fly.”

  “I need to talk to him. He doesn’t understand . . . ” She stopped, unable to explain something she didn’t know, but if it made Jon this angry, then it had to be a misunderstanding of some sort.

  He nodded.

  Rowena scanned the sky, thankful for the temperate March weather that left them clear. She didn’t know when he would be back. Probably not until he ran out of fuel.

  Mr. Dirkes excused himself to go talk to one of the men and Rowena nodded. Her limbs were trembling. What if she didn’t get a chance to explain away whatever it was that made him so angry? She would just chalk it up to George’s machinations, but Cristobel had known something was wrong, as well. The thought that he was angry with her made her feel sick. She needed to see him.

  Making a snap decision, she backed up until she was in the barn. She went up to the Flying Alice and surreptitiously checked to make sure it was fueled up. Not enough.

  Biting her lip, she glanced back toward the door where they kept tanks of fuel. Quietly, keeping to the side of the barn, she grabbed the tank and moved back to the plane. She’d seen the aeroplanes fueled several times and poured the liquid slowly into the tank.

  It took her several tries to screw the cap onto the tank, as her fingers kept fumbling. After replacing the container of fuel, she paused in front of the propeller. She could still change her mind. Her heart felt as if it were ricocheting around her chest. No. She was done with being passive and apathetic. Wasn’t that what Victoria always said about her? Well, now it was time to act. She loved Jon and she was going after him.

  She found a leather helmet on the workbench where Mr. Dirkes kept some extra tools. Taking off her hat, she put on the helmet and tucked her hair back as best she could.

  Then, glancing back at the wide-open door one more time, she turned the propellers of the aeroplane, then climbed into the cockpit. Taking a deep breath, she reached forward and turned
the booster mag hand crank. Then she waited until the men came in to see what was going on. They rarely started the aeroplanes in the barn. As long as it wasn’t Mr. Dirkes. She wasn’t sure whether she could con him. One of the men came back and gave her a puzzled look.

  “I’m practicing driving the aeroplane around. Can you help me get out onto the field?” She smiled at him, hoping that he couldn’t see the sweat beading at her hairline. He nodded, ran to the front of the barn, and called for backup. Another man came in and she sighed in relief when she saw it wasn’t Mr. Dirkes.

  She buckled herself in as the aeroplane was pushed out of the barn and onto the field. Mr. Dirkes stared across the field and she veered away from him as the aeroplane gathered speed. Seconds later, he was waving his arms but it was too late. She turned from him and studied the instruments in front of her. Oil pressure gauge, speedometer, and fuel pressure. She noted the red tick marks on the speedometer, the higher mark indicating maximum speed for structural integrity and the lower mark indicating the stall speed.

  Her heart in her throat, she placed her feet on the rudder pedals and pulled back on the yoke.

  A strange calm spread through her and stayed with her as the nose of the aeroplane lifted up off the ground, as light as dandelion seed.

  “That’s a good Alice, my dear,” Rowena murmured. When the entire aeroplane lifted, her heart lifted with it and for a moment she forgot her mission. She was flying. She was airborne. And she was completely solo. The wind whipping past froze her cheeks, but her eyes, protected by the goggles, were clear. Keeping one eye on her instruments, she kept climbing until she reached altitude, and then turned to the west where she had last seen Jon.

  He is going to be so angry.

  But then, he was already angry. And deep down she knew she didn’t care whether he might be angry about the aeroplane. He had been training her, she knew what she was doing, and—most important—she knew this was something she needed to do. A gust of wind hit the plane and it shuddered, but she automatically adjusted for it.

  This was what she was meant to do. She saw a spot to her left and swung the aeroplane that way. Alice balked a bit in the wind, but Rowena held firm and the plane turned obediently. She grinned. Almost like a balky horse. She flew directly toward Jon, who must’ve been heading back toward the field.

  Careful to keep her distance, she got close enough to see the shock and anger spreading across his face before she made a wide circle. He slowed his speed and beckoned her to follow him. She approached him from the left and then, flying slightly behind and above him, followed him back to the field.

  She inched the yoke down as they approached and tried to remember everything he’d told her about landings. She did know that takeoffs and landings were the most dangerous times of a flight. She held her breath as Jon landed his plane. It was her turn. She circled the field again and saw Jon jump out of his aeroplane and yank off his helmet.

  She made another circle, inching the aeroplane down little by little before turning straight. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the yoke down, further and further.

  The touchdown rattled her teeth and her hand jerked on the yoke. The aeroplane veered right and came to a shuddering stop.

  She sat with her hands on the controls, her heart beating wildly in her ears. It wasn’t as pretty as she would have liked, but she had done it—her first solo flight.

  She unbuckled her harness and stood, her legs quaking. One of the men reached her before Jon did and helped her out of the aeroplane. She pulled off her goggles and unbuttoned her helmet.

  Suddenly someone grabbed her arm and whirled her around. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  Rowena yanked her arm out of Jon’s grip. “What do you think? I was going after you!”

  The light in his blue eyes grew dark. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were trying to kill yourself.”

  “Don’t be daft. I was perfectly fine, Jon. I knew what I was doing and you know it.”

  “You have been up in a plane, what? A half a dozen times and have been training three times? How does that make you a pilot? How does that make you think you can risk an expensive machine that doesn’t belong to you, not to mention your own life?”

  They glared at each other, unwilling to fight as the men wheeled the aeroplane back toward the barn. Rowena jerked her gloves off and shoved them into her pocket, then advanced on him, her mouth tight. “And why would you care about my life? Your brother informed me in no uncertain terms that you were done with me and I was no longer welcome at the house. Look, I have the marks to prove it.”

  She pulled up her sleeve where George had gripped her arm to shove her back toward her horse. Delicate bruises in the form of fingertips were already forming.

  The marks took the top off Jon’s anger. She could see it in the horrified expression on his face. He reached out and ran his fingers gently down the marks on her arm. “I’ll kill him for that,” he said, choking on his anger.

  She snatched her arm away from him. “That’s not what I want. What I want to know is what you saw that would make you tell him that we were finished? And why on earth would you choose to have that conversation with him, someone who hates me, before you would even have it with me?”

  Hurt, angry tears formed and rolled down her cheeks.

  His lip curled. “You act so innocent, but I saw you. I went to your aunt’s house to try to get your attention. All I could think of was how happy I was that Dirkes had returned to the city so I could see you. And can you imagine what I saw when I arrived?”

  Rowena shook her head, bewildered.

  “You and your fake fiancé, rubbing all over each other out in front of your aunt’s house like you had no shame. His lips on your cheek, whispering things against your hair, and you clinging to him like he was the last man on the earth, as though I was nothing, the farthest thing from your mind!”

  Rowena reeled at his accusations. What was he talking about? She racked her mind but came up with nothing. “And when did you supposedly see me with Sebastian?”

  “A couple of weeks ago. You got out of a motorcar with some man and then Sebastian came out and you practically ran into his arms.” Jon spat the words at her, as if daring her to deny them.

  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” she flashed. “I . . . I’ve never . . . ” Comprehension dawned and he saw it in her face.

  “Now try calling me a liar!” Jon stepped closer to her, his face twisted, and she took a step back. “Why couldn’t you just break it off with me? Or did you want the forbidden excitement of a love affair with someone below your social status? Is that what I was? An experiment?”

  Pain radiated throughout her entire body. She trembled as it moved from her heart to every limb, organ, and muscle. “Apparently, what we shared and what we had was not enough for you to give me the benefit of the doubt. You sound just like George. Victoria went missing that day. I had no idea what happened to her. Eventually we learned she is in prison for something she couldn’t possibly have done. So what you saw was Sebastian comforting me because I thought my sister was dead!”

  They stared at each other. Jon was breathing hard, but she spotted the moment shame crept into his face. He realized she was telling the truth. “How is your sister?” he finally asked.

  “As far as I know, she’s fine. There was nothing I could do in London so I came here because you told me you would be here. I arrived late last night and rode to your house first thing this morning.” She paused, tears swelling her throat and making it hard to speak. “How could you think . . . and how could you tell George . . . was it really so easy for you to believe that I could just . . . ” She stopped, too choked up to speak further.

  He took her elbow and led her farther away from the men working on the aeroplanes. The dampness of the field tugged at Rowena’s shoes and a slight breeze dried the tears on her face. “When I saw you in his arms . . . I don’t know . . . I went a bit mad. All the warnings my br
other had been whispering in my ear came to mind . . . I was jealous. And so hurt.”

  She pulled her arm out of his. “How could you not trust me? After everything.”

  Jon turned away and looked at the horizon. “Maybe this entire incident just reveals a basic problem between us, Rowena.” He cast his eyes downward. “For me, the name Buxton will always mean deceit, duplicity, and betrayal.”

  The punch to her stomach almost doubled her over. “What does that mean for us, then? That you are just going to let me go because my name happens to be Buxton?”

  He didn’t answer and alarms started at the base of her neck and ran through her entire body. She wanted to throw herself in his arms and beg him not to do this. She wanted to put her hands over her ears and run away so she wouldn’t have to listen to the words she knew were coming.

  “Perhaps the implications of your name, your heritage, everything your family stands for is something I can’t get over. You love your family. Can you really walk away from them for me? My God, Rowena, you just lost your father, how could you stand losing everyone else, as well?”

  She felt as if a crater had been blown into her chest. “So that’s it. You’re not even going to fight for me. For us. You’re just . . . just going to walk away?”

  “Rowena, I love you, but I think we’re both being naïve to think this is something we can just overlook.”

  She turned to face him. She saw pain in his eyes but it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. “You didn’t seem to have a difficult time overlooking my surname when you took me to bed, did you?” She slammed her fists against his chest. “No, you certainly didn’t care that I was a Buxton then, did you?” She hit him in the chest again and he reached up and grabbed her hands.

  “It wasn’t like that, and you know it.”

  “I don’t know what it was like. I thought I did, but now I don’t because the man I made love to would have fought for me and you’re just walking away.”