Beneath the Dover Sky (26 page)

“What, Papa?” Catherine giggled. “Two minutes to go, and you can’t see the smoke?”

“It’s no laughing matter, my dear. We don’t even know where they docked. Why all the secrecy? I feel as if we’re in the middle of something cooked up by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.”

“I’m Watson then, Dad. You can be Sherlock. And Mum is the landlady—what’s her name?”

Lady Preston patted her husband’s arm. “There, William. Is that what you were anxious to see, my dear?”

Black smoke smudged the horizon.

“Ah!” Lord Preston snapped open his watch a second time. “Late.”

Catherine grinned and hugged his arm. “By what? Thirty seconds?”

“Thirty-five.”

“Think of it, Father. We haven’t seen them in three years. How exciting to have the train pulling into the station now.”

“Yes—if indeed they are on it. I could do with a little less cloak and dagger and a spot more frank and open declaration of the reasons for the odd nature of their return from America.”

“Soon all will be made known. I thank God they’ve come back to us.”

A smile played on Lord Preston’s lips. “I do thank Him for that too. I do praise Him.”

The locomotive slid past and the brakes screeched. White steam tumbled over the platform. Doors of coaches opened and people climbed out. Lord Preston glanced quickly up and down the length of the train.

“Can you see them?” he asked. “Can you see them?”

“No, they’re not…There they are!” Catherine pulled free of her father and pointed. “Down near the end.”

Lady Preston squinted. “Why, Libby is dressed so…so American—her hat, her jacket, her pearls.”

“Oh, Mum, she looks pretty. And Michael is such a handsome sight in the suit and hat he’s wearing.”

“He looks American as well.”

“He
is
American. Come on! I can’t wait here for them.” Catherine rushed down the platform ahead of her parents and caught Libby in her arms. They hugged and laughed and kissed each other’s cheeks. Then Catherine put her arms around Michael. “How marvelous you both look!” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe it. You’re here in England. It’s been ages.”

Libby smiled. “If we’re marvelous, you must be spectacular. Look at her, Michael!”

He kissed Catherine on the forehead. “She’s a real doll, all right. Did you miss us?”

“Did we ever! Ben will be doing handsprings.”

“I’m more than ready to help run the airline again.” He patted Catherine on the back. “Here’s your mum and dad, Libby.”

“Ah, Michael! Splendid!” Lord Preston stretched out his hand, and Michael shook it. “How was the voyage? How was the train ride?”

“Fine, William. You’re looking very well.”

“Thank you! I try to walk every evening when I’m in London.”

Lady Preston was hugging Libby. “Your hair is so short, but I must admit it looks just right. My, you’ve lost weight.”

“Hullo, Mum. I guess I’ve been away from English cooking far too long.” She hugged her mother back. “You look younger than when I left.”

“Now I know America did something to you, my darling. It’s a good thing you’re back here to stay.”

“Who do we have here?” Lord Preston smiled at a dark-eyed young woman wearing a dark dress who was standing behind Michael and Libby. “Are you with Libby and Michael?”

She curtsied in her dark dress. “I am, sir. My name is Lucy, but everyone calls me Montgomery.”

“Ah. And which do you prefer?”

“Montgomery, if you please, my lord.”

“Then Montgomery it shall be. And who is this?”

A young Chinese girl in a green dress was holding Montgomery’s hand and staring at Lord Preston.

“Father.” Libby came and stood behind the young girl, resting her hands gently on her thin shoulders. “This is Jane. She has so looked forward to meeting you and Mum. She’s nine.”

“All right!” Lord Preston crouched. “Hello, my dear. Welcome to England.”

The girl smiled so suddenly and so brightly that Lady Preston exclaimed, “Oh my, how sweet she is! Who is she? Why is she in your company? Where is her family?”

“We are her family, Mum.”

“I beg your pardon, dear?”

Michael walked over to take Libby’s hand. He stroked Jane’s shiny black hair.

“She is Jane Danforth Woodhaven,” said Libby. “She is our daughter.”

10

January–May, 1927

Plymouth and Devonport, Southern England

“I feel like I’m going to lose you.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Terry.” Catherine wiped a raindrop off his cheek with her gloved fingers. “We’ve seen quite a lot of each other, haven’t we? And once you’re back from the Med, I’m sure we’ll see a lot of each other again.”

“Are you positive?”

“As sure as I can be right now.”

“A boat trip down the Rhine sounds pretty…well…”

“With my mother and sister in tow, along with Victoria’s two children. Hardly a recipe for a Hollywood romance.”

Fordyce held the large black umbrella closer to her head as the wind gusted and the downpour increased. “A man will find a way to your heart. I know I would in that situation.”

“Terry, he’s very old world, very German, and a theologian from a prestigious university. I’m not going to be stuck on a boat with Don Juan.”

“He cares about you as much as I do, doesn’t he?”

“Possibly.”

“Then how can you say nothing will happen?”

“Excuse me, sir.” A sailor in a peacoat came to attention behind
them and saluted. “Your presence aboard is requested. We will be weighing anchor in under an hour.”

Fordyce turned, straightened, and returned the salute. “Very well.”

The sailor saluted again, paused as Terry returned the salute, and then left.

“I have to go.” Fordyce put the umbrella in her hands. “Your driver’s waiting.”

“Harrison can wait a bit longer. He won’t mind.”

He tipped up her chin with his finger and thumb. “How lovely you are. May I?”

“Of course, Terry. You needn’t ask.”

The kiss was soft and careful, as if he were unsure of himself. Suddenly he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest and kissed her with the strength of the storm that was sweeping over them. She almost let the umbrella go in the wind as she responded by throwing her arms around his neck. The rain struck them both but they continued to kiss.

When Terry broke off the embrace, he turned and strode quickly down the pier to the
Hood
’s gangway. He did not look back.

“God go with you, Terry,” Catherine said quietly.

“Lady Catherine?”

She glanced at Harrison. He was holding the door of the Rolls open.

“No, thank you, Harrison. I want to watch the
Hood
sail.”

“You can do that from the comfort of the car, m’lady.”

“I can’t actually.”

She stood in the rainfall and waited. Hundreds of men scurried back and forth on the
Hood
’s deck. She could hear names being called and caught distinct phrases as they carried over the water. A half hour went by. An hour. Shivers moved up and down her spine. The thick lines that kept the battleship tethered to the shore were released. More orders echoed across the water, sounding like she was in a valley of mist listening to hunters shout to one another. The gray ship and escort vessels slipped through clouds of fog, engines thrumming and rumbling.

Harrison had the door open for her when she turned away from the ship. “My lady.”

“Thank you so much, Harrison. I know it was foolish of me.”

“Not at all. I would do as much or more for Holly. I hope he saw you wait.”

“I don’t know. Perhaps he glanced this way from the bridge.”

“I’m sure he did.”

There was a blanket in the backseat. She pulled it around herself as she settled in. Harrison leaned back and handed her a thermos.

“What is it, Harrison?” she asked, unscrewing the top.

“Hot coffee, m’lady.”

“It couldn’t possibly be from the manor. We’ve been gone for ages.”

“I went for a stroll while you and Leftenant Commander Fordyce were chatting. That’s good Navy coffee. No rum in it, mind you, but that coffee will warm you up like a shovelful of coals in your stomach.”

“Thank you, Harrison.” She put the thermos to her lips. “You’re an absolute lifesaver.”

Dover Sky

“What is she whispering?” Caroline asked.

Libby, Jane, and Caroline were in the parlor visiting. Montgomery, the servant Libby had brought with her from the United States, was attending them.

“She says you’re the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen.” Libby grinned at Caroline. “After her darling mother—me—of course.”

Caroline smiled at Jane. “Thank you so much. That is very sweet.”

“She means it too. She never says anything for show.”

“Jane?” Caroline showed her a large red valentine trimmed in lace. “What do you think of this?”

“It’s perfect! I love it, Caroline.”

“Shall we make one for your Aunt Holly?”

“Yes, please!”

“What about Bev and Norah and Nancy and Harriet?”

Jane nodded. “I do want to give them something too.”

“And the boys?”

Jane grimaced. “Not ones trimmed in lace.”

“You’re right.” Caroline laughed. “Perhaps trimmed in rock. Their valentines will last longer that way.”

“Can we send some to Aunt Catherine and Sean in Switzerland?”

“We certainly can,” Montgomery replied. “Are you ready to come with me and make a start? I have scissors and glue and plenty of stiff red paper.”

Jane jumped up from where she was sitting. “Do you mean you have all of it right now?” She seized Montgomery’s hand.

The maid’s dark eyes sparkled as she smiled. “I do! Let’s go to the craft room.”

“Where are Charles and Matthew?”

“In the big playroom with their toy soldiers.”

“Can we visit them later?”

“Of course. But valentines first, all right?”

The two of them left the parlor, and Montgomery closed the door firmly behind them.

“She’s nine going on nineteen,” Caroline commented as she got up and poured herself tea.

“Jane has always been that way as soon as she’s comfortable with the people she’s with,” said Libby.

“Would you like a cup?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Caroline handed Libby a cup of tea on a saucer. Steam curled up from the hot liquid. “You know, I really never heard how you and Michael came to adopt Jane.”

Libby sipped at her tea. “It was all rather straightforward. Many Chinese families went to the United States to work on the railroads during the 1800s. In this one Chinese family, a son went to the Klondike in Alaska when gold was discovered there. He made an exceptional strike and the family became wealthy. They made their home in San Francisco. In 1919, the Spanish flu wiped out almost everyone in their family. The grandmother and one-year-old Jane were the only ones who survived.”

“You were never in San Francisco, were you?”

“Indeed we were. We’d traveled to the West Coast to visit some of Michael’s California relatives. That’s when we were introduced to the grandmother and Jane. The grandmother was friends with several of Michael’s uncles and aunts. Her health had fallen off dramatically that winter, and after we’d visited with her several times she asked us if we would take Jane.

“Michael and I had gotten on very well with the grandmother and Jane from the beginning. We thought it over and prayed and decided to go ahead. Everything was done properly and legally, and Jane was excited to be with us but so tearful of leaving her grandmother. We thought it best to stay on in San Francisco for several months. The four of us grew quite close. The woman became like a mother to Michael and me. And Jane truly became our daughter. There was no question of changing our minds after that, regardless of Jane’s race and the difficulty we knew this would present to us in England. Michael and I both very much believed God had brought us all together. The grand old lady passed away last summer. We wept and made her funeral arrangements; it really was a very special goodbye, and then Jane was more than ready to come back to New York with us.” She looked at Caroline over the edge of her cup. “I can’t bear children, you see. At least not so far, and none of the physicians held out much hope.”