The Thorn Keeper

by Pepper D. Basham

  Madame’s smile slid into place. “Beacon House? Oui?”

  “Oui.”

  Madame trailed off in a long line of French exultation and then turned to them. “It is perfect. Georgian elegance, magnificent décor, if the décor is still there from the days we let the house from your dear Grandmama.”

  “And do you recall if it had a ballroom with enough space?”

  “Mais oui, a divine ballroom. Smaller than the Inn, but well situated for our purposes.” Madame frowned. “Especially if The Lady scares away our patrons.”

  “We can’t let her intimidate us. We have to still try.”

  “And we can invite anyone. Whether they are from our town or another.” Madame’s dark red grin perched. She scrutinized Catherine a moment. “You do not begrudge your sister the big house with all of its property?”

  “What would I care for that big house when I can be close to town?” She sighed and took a few steps toward the door. “Besides, Catherine Everill can cause much more trouble in town than she can so far away.”

  Madame Rousell’s chuckle grew ruthless. “Oh, ma chère, we are kindred spirits.”

  Catherine opened the door and turned to Marianne and Madame with a raised brow. “And after the ball, I do believe it would make an absolutely perfect war hospital.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  David had spent the last few hours attempting to not only be an administrator of a damaged hospital, but a carpenter as well. Progress happened, but with aching slowness. Between himself, Michael, Sam, and even Christopher Hudson, as well as a few able-bodied soldiers, they’d managed to secure the beams in one of the smaller rooms and rehang the back door.

  He welcomed the physical occupation because it gave his mind freedom to sift through the current needs and the added space constraints. Lady Hollingsworth’s additional funds would help them scrape through to the next month, but the loss of materials, cots and linens required them to purchase more on credit. At least the magnanimous benefactress promised another installment the next month, though that amount would go toward paying the credit debt and restocking supplies.

  But Catherine had faith in this fundraising bazaar and ball. And as his mind turned toward Catherine, he made another round about the house in hopes of spotting her as soon as she entered from town. Their playful conversation from earlier teased his thoughts in a direction which required privacy.

  He caught her entering the front door. Outfitted in a green walking suit, the skirt one of the newer styles that came at least five inches off the floor, she didn’t notice him as half of her face hid stylishly behind a large, ivory hat. Beautiful and enticing.

  “You’re not trying to avoid me, are you?”

  She turned at his voice, quickly readjusting her surprise. “It would be extremely sensible of me, for both of our sakes. You’re quite dangerous, and I’m dangerous for you.”

  He stepped closer, taking her arm and drawing her into the shadow of the alcove. Her dangerous for him? Oh no! She’d brought him to life in ways he’d never known. “I’m dangerous, am I?”

  Her ebony brow rose with a tilt of her lips. “Clearly, you enjoy trapping me.”

  “Trapping you? No. Kissing you?” Emotions reduced his voice to a harsh whisper. He tipped her hat back from her face. “Definitely.”

  He took his time, familiarizing himself with the feel of her lips on his, the fit of her in his arms, and the pleasure in the taste of her. How could anyone tire of such intoxicating delicacies?

  She drew back first, resting her forehead against his chin with a sigh. “Quite dangerous, David Ross.”

  He fingered a lock of her hair, loose from an intricate design crowning her dark head. “Where have you been? Off flittering your time away in Madame’s dress shop again?”

  Her lovely lips slanted. “Did you just say ‘flittering?’?”

  “I did, in fact.” He leaned to kiss her smile. “Causing trouble in town, were you?”

  The teasing glint left her expression. She placed her hand against his chest, causing distance he didn’t want. “Unintentional trouble, I’m afraid.”

  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “I tried to warn you of the consequences of a relationship with me.” Catherine shook her head, the fear in her eyes tightening his middle. “And now…now the worst has happened.”

  “Catherine, it can’t be as bad as you’ve imagined.”

  “Your aunt has done her worst. She’s spread lies throughout the entire town.” Catherine took his hand, her gaze pleading. “She said you’ve followed in your father’s disgraceful footsteps by…by—”

  A fiery heat flamed through him. “Tell me.”

  “Fathering my unborn child.”

  “What?” He ran his hand through his hair, staring at her as if she’d gone mad. “That’s preposterous. How can anyone believe it?”

  “They’ll believe what she tells them too, unless they know you, of course. No one would ever believe such bosh if they knew you.”

  “How did this happen?”

  “Somehow, she learned of my mother’s declaration of my pregnancy, which wouldn’t be difficult with the amount of people we have in this house.” Catherine’s brow pinched. “Then she saw us dancing… I can only assume she—”

  “Took her revenge.” He ground the words out and slammed his fist against the stone wall. When he’d counted the cost of a relationship with Catherine, he’d expected consequences against his own reputation, but to slander his father? To stir up the hatred of the townspeople he’d known his whole life? “This…this is deplorable.”

  “I will find a way to make things right.” Catherine stepped back. “There has to be a way.”

  “I don’t see how you can change what’s happened. Aunt Maureen has the power to intimidate.” He shook his head at the weight of such a blast against his family’s name, his hospital’s future. “I think this damage is irreversible.”

  How could his aunt stoop to such a level as to stains his father’s name?

  “There has to be something.” Catherine distanced herself with another step, her face unreadable. “I won’t allow her to hurt you, or your family, because of me.”

  The finances? The fire? And now this? His head squeezed with a pressure for control and for understanding. “I need some time to think. To sort this out, if it can be sorted.”

  Catherine ran to her room, refusing tears access until she’d made it safely inside. She’d wounded him. The slander of his father’s name, of David’s reputation, was all due to his association with her. Her mother’s accusing words haunted her. Catherine always caused trouble for the people closest to her.

  She lay back on her bed, the warm tears sliding down her temples to the eiderdown. I’ve failed again.

  Suddenly, something fluttered in her stomach. She sniffled but didn’t move, and the sensation returned. It was the slightest of movements, the faintest squirm. There for the briefest moment then gone.

  She held her breath and placed her palm over the spot. It happened again. Within the pain of all that had occurred in the last few moments, something sweet bloomed inside her. An amazing and inexplicable kind of tenderness. Her baby.

  For four months, the little one had been nothing but a secret thought, but now…now she became real. She? Catherine smiled, even as fresh tears formed. Why did she think the baby was a girl?

  “It’s the two of us, little one,” she whispered. She breathed out a long stream of air and looked up to the ceiling, hoping her prayer reached far beyond those confines. “Please, rescue this moment. Protect David and his father. I’m so afraid of…” She closed her eyes, searching for the pinpoint problem. “Letting go, but I will…I will.”

  A knock sounded at her door, and Catherine tensed all over. She couldn’t bear more hurt on David’s face. More failure.

  “Catherine, are you there?”

  Catherine’s body relaxed at the sound of her sister’s voice. She smudged away the remainder of te
ars. “Come in.”

  Ashleigh walked in wearing her nurse’s uniform. It was as if she’d never left, and yet, the peace in her countenance spoke of a deeper contentment. Married life agreed with her, but she’d also somehow reconciled the wounds of her past, their past. Perhaps Sam’s love had brought about the reformation, in part. She grimaced. All she’d brought to David’s life so far was a stained reputation. She paused on the thought. Well, and some wonderful memories associated with the supplies room.

  “Are you feeling all right?” Her sister examined her with those acute eyes.

  “I’m a bit tired.” Not a complete lie. “There’s so much happening.”

  “Yes. My head’s spinning with repairs and the hospital.” She laughed. “Jessica is thrilled I’ve returned, because she had the overwhelming fear she’d be asked to help with the orphanage.”

  “Not the child-type?”

  “She’s terrified of them.” Ashleigh stepped forward and placed her hand on the post of the bed, her smile sobering. “Speaking of children, I wanted to see how you were doing after the news this morning. I suspect you’ll miss Nathanael.”

  Catherine’s head lifted. “Miss him?”

  Ashleigh’s expression stilled and then swelled with a compassion which tensed Catherine’s throat. “I thought Fanny had already told you. We received word this morning of a poor mother in Matlock who lost her babe yesterday. Her husband, a kind cleric, contacted us about—”

  “They want him?” Catherine stood, hand pressing against the blooming ache in her stomach. She knew this was the hope for every child in their orphanage. A home. A family. Her mind understood, but her heart?

  Ashleigh moved to her side, sliding a palm down her arm. “Fanny knows them and they’re a kind, loving couple. They’ve desired children for years only to have their only child taken.”

  Catherine withered back onto the bed and pressed her fingers into forehead, praying logic might override the sudden urge to weep all over again. Yes, she knew, and had even convinced herself it would be for the best if he was adopted, but she’d not prepared for the sudden stab of loss.

  “He will be loved, Catherine.”

  “Yes. Who could help but love him.” Tears invaded her vision and clouded Ashleigh’s face. “When will he go?”

  “The couple arrive in the morning. They must attend to the burial of their child first.”

  Catherine’s hand returned to her stomach, to the new connection made in the movement of her little babe. “I shall spend my evening rocking him tonight, for my memory and heart’s sake.”

  “Solid practice for the future. You will soon fill your arms with your own sweet child.” Ashleigh’s smile warmed with comfort.

  Catherine swallowed down the tears and nodded, pushing the grief aside until later, until the dark of night cloaked her sadness. She placed her hand on her stomach. “I think I felt her move.”

  “Her?” Ashleigh’s eyes grew wide.

  “I mean…the baby.” She blinked away the tears and shrugged, tagging on a wobbly smile. Nathanael would be loved by two parents, something Catherine couldn’t give him. “Of course, I can’t know.”

  “I’ve heard of some mothers who knew from the very beginning.”

  “It’s rather remarkable that something so…precious could come from such a mistake.” She looked up, grin lifting with her spirits. “But I suppose God’s been proving His hand in many ways lately.”

  “Even with Nathanael.”

  Catherine sighed, accepting her heartache with another intake of breath. “Even with Nathanael.”

  Ashleigh sat beside her on the bed. “Have you visited Beacon House yet? I’ve never been inside.”

  Her sister’s gift of distraction proved fairly effective. Catherine’s grin grew. “And you’re curious?”

  “A little. Grandmama gave it such high praise.” She nudged her sister’s shoulder with her own. Maybe seeing Beacon would distract her from the sadness of saying goodbye to Nathanael later in the evening. “Aren’t you the least bit curious about your new house?”

  “Of course.” Catherine nodded, accepting her sister’s well-meaning diversion. “In fact, I think we should go right now.”

  “Now?”

  “Why not? You told me earlier that Grandmama’s solicitor had informed the servants of the results of the will. And…I may be in need of a ballroom sooner rather than later.”

  The car passed between two ornate stone pillars, through a pair of wrought iron gates, and into a front garden surrounded by hedgerows on either side leading to the central point of Catherine’s view. The house. It towered before them, a beautiful sandstone with tall, impressive windows framed in white to match the front doors. Beyond, the hedgerows lined a protective wall of beech trees, secluding the house even more.

  Enchanting.

  Catherine fell in love with it at first sight.

  She sat forward in the automobile to get a better look as the car brought them around where a reception line of three waited by the front door. This would be a magnificent place to start over.

  “Grandmama mentioned a walled garden in back.”

  Catherine shot a look to her sister. “A walled garden?”

  “I know how you love those.”

  “You’ve an excellent gift of distraction.” Catherine laughed. “And a walled garden?” She stopped, afraid to give away her little secret plan.

  “Yes?”

  She kept her voice low so Mason wouldn’t overhear. “A walled garden is also beneficial for recuperating soldiers.”

  Ashleigh’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “Once the ball is over, I plan to set up Beacon House as the new hospital. It’s closer to the village for supplies.”

  “And the railway station.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Catherine.” Ashleigh stared at her until the car came to a stop. “You’d give up this house for the hospital?”

  Mason opened the door for her, so she leaned closer to her sister before exiting. “The house will still be here after this war, and I can enjoy it then, but I think, for now, it needs a more useful occupation. And…David needs it.”

  They met a thin yet sturdy-looking woman first, her simple, black dress identifying her as Mrs. Bradford, the housekeeper. Next stood a tall, lean older gentleman, brown hair frosted with hints of gray. From her previous experience with butlers, this had to be Mr. Palmer, who’d worked for her grandmother as both butler and steward. Lastly, and quite out-of-his element, a broad shouldered man with a ruddy complexion and a shock of ginger curls greeted them. She grinned. Mr. Coates, the gardener.

  Ashleigh gestured her forward. “Well, Catherine, it looks as though you finally have one of the things you always wanted.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Your own home near the village. A lady’s home.” Though her words came with a light voice, her intention rang deep.

  She owned her own property! She’d become her own mistress. It might not have come with a title, but it added credence to one truth she was learning very slowly. God dreamed bigger dreams for her than she ever could.

  Catherine’s face hurt from smiling. The tour of Beacon House proved it the perfect location for hospital use. Ten bedrooms, most with southerly facing windows– half for patient rooms and half for staff. In addition, several of the larger rooms could be converted. It housed plenty of space for recreation, both indoors and out, with a walled-in garden to enjoy and footpaths for walks.

  As she sat down with Mrs. Bradford to discuss the ball, Catherine barely kept her voice calm.

  Mrs. Bradford’s wide-eyed response confirmed the daunting nature of the task at hand.

  “For that kind of quick work, miss, you’re going to need people with a background in service.”

  “Exactly, Mrs. Bradford.” She took a deep breath and forged ahead, hoping the housekeeper caught on. “And that’s where your wisdom will be invaluable. You wouldn’t happen to know anyone who might have los
t their positions on a large estate recently?”

  A light emerged in the woman’s pale eyes, and if Catherine wasn’t mistaken, her lips even pinched back a grin. “I do. Quite a few within the past few weeks.”

  “And they’re accustomed to a house this size?”

  “Bigger, in fact.”

  The Cavanaugh estate. Catherine’s smile grew with the perfect unfolding of her plan. “My Grandmama trusted you with this house and its care. Do you think you can hire enough quality personnel to make this house what it used to be? To prepare for the ball in time?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The woman stood with immediate purpose. “I’ll do my best.”

  Mrs. Bradford exited the room, and Catherine reclined back into the chair, taking in a deep breath of new freedom. She could help people find work, even with a marred reputation. The power to make a difference, a good difference, fueled her decisions with purpose and joy. Why would God be so good to her?

  “Well?” Ashleigh asked, entering the room.

  “She thinks she can do it.”

  “Of course she can.”

  Catherine glanced about the room as she stood. “But it’s still going to take a lot of planning on my part, so I intend to stay here for the next few days.”

  “Stay here?”

  Catherine stepped toward one of the cabinets and examined some trinkets on display. “I only have four days to plan, and with you back to help in the hospital, the additional nurses, as well as the arrival of Dr. Burr today, I won’t be missed. Nathanael will leave tomorrow.” She looked up from her perusal and forced a smile. “I gather my things tonight once he’s asleep and return tomorrow early to finalize the plans?”

  “I know what you’re doing.” Ashleigh crossed her arms, daring her sister to argue.

  Catherine brushed off the glare with a shrug. “Planning for a fundraiser? Trying to save a hospital?”

  “You’re running away.” She stepped closer, directly in Catherine’s path. “You think staying away will help David?”