A Refuge at Highland Hall (10 page)

He'd never have to be grounded.

“Longmore makes you think he's all about rules and regulations,” Meddis continued. “But he knows it's going to take some fancy flying to beat the Huns. And I suppose he thinks you're one of our top pilots.”

Alex grinned and slapped the mechanic's shoulder again. “Thanks, Meddis.”

“You can thank me by staying out of trouble up there.” He pointed his thumb toward the sky.

Alex's smile spread wider. “I will. I promise.”

Meddis growled and waved him off. “I'll believe that when I see it!”

Alex chuckled, then turned and set off across the field. He passed the hangars, then walked toward the long wooden building that served as the squadron's dining hall and briefing room.

Just before he reached the door, Sublieutenant Fletcher hustled toward him carrying a large canvas bag. “Mail just arrived.”

Alex's pulse jumped, but he pushed down his hopes and held the door open for Fletcher.

The other man tossed the bag on the closest table and pulled open the drawstring. Several men gathered around while Fletcher reached in, pulled out a stack of letters, then began calling names. “Reynolds, Peterson, Harvey, St. Charles…”

The men strode forward and accepted their mail, most with a smile and look of anticipation on their faces.

Alex's shoulders tensed. Would he receive a letter today? He'd written to Lindy, Jon, and Penny shortly after he arrived at St. Pol, but letters took at least a week to be delivered and then another week to receive a reply.

“Wilson, Lundmere, Miller, James…”

Alex swallowed and glanced at the clock on the wall. Why was he standing here waiting for something that wasn't coming? Lindy, Jon, and Penny all had busy lives and plenty of friends and family back at home. Even if they had received his letters, he doubted they'd write back, especially not this soon.

Fletcher handed out the last letter, and a groan passed through the group. Alex clenched his jaw and berated himself for hoping someone cared enough to write.

Fletcher lifted his hand. “Wait, there's more.” He reached in the bag and pulled out two packages.

Alex's breath snagged in his chest. A package would be even better than a letter, but he was a fool to hope for one. His empty stomach growled and he turned away.

“Goodwin.”

A jolt shot through Alex at Fletcher's call. He turned and stared at the package in the man's hand.

Fletcher's eyebrows rose. “Well, do you want it or not?”

“Yes.” Alex stepped forward and took the package wrapped in brown paper and tied with red string. It was about a foot square and about eight or nine inches deep—a fine-looking package, and it had his name on it.

He scanned the wrapping to see who had sent it. There was no return address, only a small pen-and-ink drawing of a wild rose in the corner signed
From H. H.
He didn't recall knowing anyone with the initials
H. H.
Who had sent it?

All thoughts of eating a meal vanished as he strode toward the far end of the room, his package in hand. He sank onto a bench, pulled out his pocketknife, cut the string, then carefully unwrapped the paper and pulled off the lid. A child's drawing of an airplane flying over a house lay on top. It said, “To Lieutenant Goodwin, Our Favorite Pilot, from Rose.” He smiled, then gave a little chuckle. So this package was from Penny and the children at Highland Hall. Ah, that explained the
H. H.

He sorted through six other drawings and below them found a pair of hand-knit brown socks, a packet of loose tea, a tin of hard candies, a bar of chocolate, and a small eagle carved of dark wood. Tucked in next to the eagle was an envelope with his name written on the outside.

He set the box aside and tore open the envelope. Inside were three sheets of ivory stationery covered with fine, feminine handwriting. He pulled them out, turned over the last sheet, and saw Penny's signature at the bottom. Pleasant warmth spread across his chest.

June 2, 1915

Dear Alex,

Today we arrived at Highland, and it has been a whirlwind of activity since we walked through the door. We received a warm welcome and had dinner together with only a few incidents. The children are all settled in bed, and I finally have a few moments to myself. I hope you arrived safely at your base and are doing well. I'm looking forward to your letter and will write more soon.

He stopped and smiled. She'd started the letter the day they arrived at Highland Hall? The very day they'd last seen each other in London? Why, that was almost a month ago!

June 9

You would not believe how busy we have been. Keeping the children occupied and out of mischief is much more challenging than I could've imagined. They are not used to living in such a large house, especially one filled with so many antiques and expensive furnishings. I must continually remind them to slow down and not run through the halls or slide down the banisters.

It is an adjustment for all of us, but it is so good to be home. I am grateful for the comfort of familiar places and being with the people I love, especially in the face of the uncertainty of the war.

Since the school term is so close to the end, we've decided not to enroll the children, but we will continue with some light studies at home. Julia is helping me with that. The warm weather and new routine make it hard for the children to focus and finish their schoolwork. I'm glad there are only two more weeks, and then we can all enjoy our summer holiday!

I am thinking of you and hoping all is well.

June 22

I was so glad to receive your letter and know you arrived safely at St. Pol, France. I hope this package and our small gifts will remind you of your friends at home in England. Please know we are thinking of you and praying for you each day.

His throat grew tight, and he stopped and looked up. He hadn't realized how much it would mean to know someone remembered him and prayed for him. He swallowed and lowered his gaze to the letter again.

We are officially on summer holiday. Thank goodness the weather is warm, and I can take the children outdoors for walks and games. The older boys are especially restless, and keeping them focused and out of trouble is my daily challenge. Treasure hunts, croquet, badminton, and long walks through the woods and fields take up a good part of each afternoon. The girls have all taken up knitting for the troops. Lucy made these socks for you. I know they're probably not as nice as the ones you usually wear, but they were made with much care, just for you.

He could just see Penny teaching Lucy and the other girls how to knit socks for the troops, guiding their small hands, encouraging them.

Jon visited last Saturday, and Kate was so very happy to have him home even for a short time. He says the hospital is incredibly busy, and he is working much longer hours now that he is not needed at home each day. I hope he doesn't wear himself out with all he is doing for the men at St. George's. We are all praying it won't be long until the war is over, and you, Jon, and all the troops can come home and be reunited with your family and friends.

He released a sigh. News from the front wasn't encouraging. Britain and her enemies were deadlocked. An end to the war was not nearly in sight.

I hope you'll write again and let us know how you are doing. What would you like in your next package? Please ask for whatever you want. We would be happy to send it.

When you're granted your next leave, I hope you will stay with us at Highland for as long as you're able. It would be wonderful to see you again. We could go exploring, and I could show you all my favorite spots. It's beautiful here in the summer. Until then, stay safe and please take very good care of yourself!

With warm thoughts and prayers,

Your friend in Berkshire,

Penny Ramsey

P.S. I thought these verses might encourage you. They are what prompted me to send you the eagle. “The everlasting God, the
L
ORD
, the Creator of the ends of the earth,…He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength. Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall: But they that wait upon the
L
ORD
shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.” Isaiah 40:28–31

Alex read the letter again, his heart growing stronger as he savored each line.

How had she known just what he needed to hear?

He picked up the eagle and studied the carefully carved wings and curved beak, pondering the verses Penny had added to the closing of her letter.

Looking to the Lord for power and strength…waiting on Him and expecting His guidance right there in the cockpit. That's what he would remember the next time he flew off to face the enemy.

A
fternoon sun warmed Penny's shoulders as she walked across the broad south lawn at Highland. A slight breeze cooled her face and lifted the green leaves of the nearby oak tree in a shimmering dance. The warm temperature and mostly clear sky made it a pleasant day to bring the children outdoors for a few hours. She hoped it would help them burn off some energy and sleep well tonight.

To her left, Donald hit a birdie across the badminton net to Jack. Tom stood by the center of the grass court, waiting for his turn to challenge the winner of the match.

To her right, Millie and Abigail were teaching Lucy, Edna, Rose, and Susan how to play croquet. Penny smiled as she watched her young cousin, Millie, patiently working with the other girls. Why did girls seem to find it so much easier to get along than boys? It seemed Penny was forever pulling Donald, Jack, and Tom apart and warning them they would lose the privilege of time outdoors if they didn't stop arguing and scuffling with one another.

Lydia, Helen, and Ann sat on a blanket in the shade of the oak tree with little Emily and Irene. Emily rested her head in her mother's lap, looking as though she might fall asleep at any moment. Irene had picked a pile of little white flowers, and Lydia was tying them together to make a daisy chain.

Kate sat nearby on the stone bench, watching the children, her face pale and her gaze somber.

Penny's shoulders tensed as she studied her sister. Kate hadn't been herself since they'd returned to Highland a month ago. No wonder her sister's spirits were low. Jon had only been able to visit twice for a few hours, and Kate's morning sickness rarely seemed to lift.

Penny sighed. She wished she could encourage Kate and help her find a way to climb out of this valley. No solution came to mind, but she sent off a prayer, asking that one would.

She checked her watch. It was almost four o'clock. She lifted her silver whistle on the ribbon around her neck and blew it hard. The whistle's sharp call drew everyone's attention. “We'll be going in for tea in five minutes. Time to finish up your games.”

Tom groaned, obviously not happy about missing out on the next badminton match. The girls took the warning in stride and picked up their croquet game.

Julia crossed the wide gravel path, walked down the slope, and approached Penny. “How is it going?”

“Much better today. I've only had to break up one fight and send three children to the stone bench to take a break.”

Julia's eyes twinkled and a slight smile lifted her mouth. “I'm sorry, I don't mean to make light of their misbehavior or your having to deal with it, but it seems rather ironic.”

“I suppose I deserve it. Kate and I caused you quite a bit of trouble when you first came to Highland.”

“Well, it was mainly your sister who objected to having a governess, but you did follow along sometimes.”

“Yes, I'm afraid I did.” Penny glanced at Kate. “Do you think she's going to be all right?”

Julia studied Kate for a moment, some unspoken emotion flickering in her eyes. “The longer she carries the baby, the better chance she has.”

Surprise rippled through Penny. “I was thinking of how much she misses Jon and how sad she seems.”

“Oh, yes, of course. I know it must be very hard for her to be separated from Jon, especially since she's feeling unwell with her pregnancy.”

Penny nodded, pondering Julia's response. Did she suspect something was wrong with Kate or her baby? Julia had knowledge of medical issues since she'd worked with her father at the clinic in India for twelve years. They were all a bit concerned that Kate seemed larger than her due date would suggest. Was that what worried Julia?

Julia shifted her gaze back to Penny. “It's wonderful the way you've stepped up to help with the children. I know that's a great comfort to Kate.”

“I enjoy it, though the boys seem to challenge my authority every day.”

“Yes, they are quite…energetic. They remind me of Andrew.” A line creased the area between Julia's eyebrows.

“Is something wrong?”

Julia bit her lip and glanced toward the house. “William received a telegram this morning from St. Alban's. Andrew is being sent home tomorrow.”

Penny pulled in a sharp breath. “What happened?”

“They didn't explain, but they said he'll bring a letter with him when he comes home. William is concerned, but we won't know what we're dealing with until Andrew arrives and we read that letter.”

“I'm surprised they're sending him home so close to the end of the term.” She didn't want to say it, but that probably meant he hadn't just broken a minor rule. It had to be a serious infraction.

“Yes, we're both disappointed.” Julia crossed her arms and watched Donald swat the birdie to Jack. “William has such high hopes for Andrew. As do I.”

“He's only fourteen. There's certainly time to help him get back on the right path.”

Julia looked at Penny. “I hope you're right. All of this will be his one day.” She gestured across the open parkland. “He'll need an education, as well as wisdom, to manage it properly.”

The chatter of girls' voices filled the air as Lydia walked down Highland's terrace steps and past the front lawn and gardens. Lady Julia had asked her and Miss Penny to take the six older girls outdoors after lunch and keep them occupied for at least an hour, so they had decided to take a walk to the stream and sheep pens.

Helen and Ann stayed behind to take the two younger girls upstairs for a nap. The three boys had been sent to help Clark Dalton in the kitchen garden, though they had put up a fuss about it.

Millie and Abigail strolled along, hand in hand, beside Lydia and Miss Penny. Lucy, Edna, Rose, and Susan followed behind.

Lydia scanned the gray sky, then pulled her sweater a bit tighter around her. “I hope the rain holds off a little longer.”

“I'm sure we'll be fine.” Miss Penny sounded confident, but when she looked up at the heavy, gray clouds, she bit her lip.

It was odd Lady Julia had sent them outside when a storm seemed to be brewing. Then Lydia recalled what she'd heard in the servants' hall after breakfast—Master Andrew had been dismissed from school for stirring up trouble. What kind of trouble, no one seemed to know, but it must have been something serious for him to be sent home before the end of the term.

She wished she knew more, but she didn't dare mention it or ask the family any questions. It was not her place to discuss their private matters. Still, she couldn't help wondering what Sir William would do.

Andrew always had been a headstrong boy, but he should've outgrown his wild behavior by now, especially since he was going to be master of Highland Hall one day. Still, her own brothers had been dreadful when they were fourteen, and they'd grown into fine young men. That gave her hope for Andrew.

“What are those men doing?” Millie pointed to the large open area that had been tilled and planted. A dozen or so men worked in the field with hoes and spades.

Miss Penny looked up. “It appears they're tending potatoes.”

Millie cocked her head. “We've never grown potatoes in the parkland before.”

“That's true, but we've never been involved in a war like the one we're fighting now.”

“Are we growing potatoes to feed the soldiers?” Abigail asked.

“I believe these potatoes will be eaten by people here in Berkshire, but some may be sent to France for the men who are stationed there.” A wistful look filled Penny's eyes, and she shifted her gaze to the east.

Was she thinking of someone off fighting in France? Perhaps that handsome Lieutenant Goodwin? She seemed to enjoy his company in London. Whether she was thinking of him or not, they all knew men who had joined up. It was hard knowing they were so far away from home, living in trenches, and facing gas attacks and machine-gun fire. She shivered, then took charge of her thoughts and turned them into a prayer for the safe return of the troops and an end to this terrible war.

As they approached the potato field, she glanced at the two men working closest to the lane. The taller one raked his hoe across the ground with strong strokes, like an experienced farmer. He wore brown work pants and a light-blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing strong, tanned arms. A straw hat shaded his face and light-blond hair.

The other man wore black pants, a faded red shirt, and a gray cap over his curly brown locks. He lifted his head and looked at Lydia, then he stepped toward the blond man and spoke in rough, guttural words Lydia couldn't understand.

The blond man darted a glance at Lydia. His eyes were a striking blue, like the summer sky.

She pulled in a sharp breath and looked away.

Lucy leaned toward Miss Penny. “What language is that man speaking?

“I believe it's…German.”

Lucy's eyes grew round. “Like the Germans who bombed London?”

“Yes, but these men are not soldiers,” Miss Penny added. “They're just men of German descent who were living in Britain when war was declared. The government decided to…move them to internment camps, and now they work on the farms and estates to help replace men who've gone off to fight in the war.”

Lydia looked at the men in the field, and a ripple of unease traveled through her. Everyone talked about the danger of German spies. Those loyal to the Crown had been warned to watch out for anyone who looked suspicious and report them. Was that why the government put these men in the camps? Had they been reported?

Lucy touched Miss Penny's arm. “Isn't it dangerous, having Germans working at Highland?”

“The guards keep an eye on them.” Miss Penny nodded down the lane to the two soldiers who stood off to the side under a large tree, their gazes focused on the men in the field.

As Lydia, Penny, and the girls continued down the lane, they came closer to the men.

The German with the curly brown hair stopped and leaned on his hoe. “Hello, pretty ladies.” He lifted his eyebrows and grinned. “Where are you going?”

Miss Penny's cheeks turned pink, and she quickened her step. “Come along, girls.”

“Wait, don't run away.” He started down the row to keep up with them. “Come over and talk to us. We're lonely.”

Lydia's face grew hot, but she couldn't help feeling a bit of sympathy. She knew what it was like to be away from home and family and feel alone.

Miss Penny slipped her arm through Lydia's. “Don't speak to them. Just keep walking.”

The brown-haired man chuckled and continued to keep pace. “Don't listen to her. You're a smart girl. You know what you want.”

“That's enough!” The tall blond man strode down the row toward the other man, his expression stern. “Leave them alone.”

The first man laughed. “What's wrong, Marius? Don't you want to talk to the pretty ladies?”

Marius ignored the comment. He doffed his hat, giving Lydia a clear view of his pale blond hair, sky-blue eyes, and handsome face. “Please, don't think we're all as ill-mannered as Siegfried.”

Surprised by his polite words, she sent Marius a slight smile. He responded with a nod and smile of his own. Lydia looked away. What was she thinking, smiling at a German?

“What's going on here?” One of the guards marched toward them, his rifle in hand. “Are these men bothering you?”

“No, sir.” Miss Penny faced the guard. “They were just saying hello.”

“Well, they ought not to be saying anything to anyone.” The guard glared at the men. “You know the rules. Get back to work, or I'll have to report you.”

Marius straightened, and a muscle in his jaw flickered. He looked at Lydia and back at the guard, then turned away and shoved his hoe into the dirt.

Siegfried glared at the guard, as though daring him to follow through on his threat.

“I mean it. Get to work!” The guard's rough voice sent goose bumps racing along Lydia's arms. He lowered his rifle and looked Lydia over with a slow, suggestive smile. “You live here at Highland?”