A Bloom in Winter (30 page)

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Authors: T. J. Brown

Tags: #Fiction, #General

BOOK: A Bloom in Winter
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“That’s probably why they hired Victoria,” Sebastian said. “For her connections.”

The sound of his voice sent another wave of hurt through her and she stole a look at him from under her lashes. His face was tight and his mouth drawn, but he kept his arm around Rowena, more as if she was holding him up than the other way around.

Prudence swallowed. She had to get out of here. “I should be going. That was really all the nurse told me.”

Lady Summerset inclined her head. “Thank you so much for coming over straightaway.”

“Of course. I want Victoria out of there as soon as possible. The best chance of that is through her family.”

“Yes, thank you,” Lord Summerset added, standing. “Please allow us to send you home in the car.”

“Oh, no. Don’t trouble yourself.”

“It’s no trouble,” Lady Summerset said. “It’s the least we can do.”

Prudence stiffened her back. She didn’t need this family’s charity.

Kit must have sensed something in her face because he jumped in smoothly. “I have my car. I will take her home.”

Rowena clutched Prudence’s hand. “Thank you so much for telling us.” Her green eyes searched Prudence’s and Prudence felt a pang of loss. But Sebastian’s hand still affectionately held on to Rowena’s elbow and with the memory of his kiss still tingling Prudence’s lips, the gesture was agonizing. She managed a nod and turned away.

“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

R
owena 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!”

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