Treasure of the Celtic Triangle (51 page)

“This place is big enough for ten families,” rejoined the earl.

“You may be right, Father. But young families need a home of their own. I did not want to be underfoot.”

“Yes, well … I see what you mean. Right—can’t have too many old people around when youngsters are scurrying about. Although I must say, on the mission field children multiply like rabbits. Their energy is exhilarating. I have to say, I hope to go to my grave with tiny little hands and feet nearby that occasionally cease their play long enough to climb into an old man’s lap.”

A pause came in the conversation. Katherine, Adela, and Florilyn rose to refill tea cups.

As they resumed their seats, Steven took the opportunity afforded by the lull to stand and look about the room. “If I might be permitted a few words,” he said. All eyes turned toward him, wondering what the normally reticent young man had on his mind. He drew in a deep breath. He appeared uncharacteristically nervous. Had the company not been looking at him, some would have noticed a sudden reddening of Florilyn’s cheeks as she buried her hands and eyes in her lap.

“For many years,” Steven continued when he had composed himself, “I have admired from afar a certain one of our number, trying to find ways to serve her in whatever humble capacity I might despite the vast gulf that existed between our stations. I was but the son of a poor sheep-herding crofter and certainly never dreamed of a more personal or intimate approach. When the late viscount was kind enough to employ me at the manor, and when Lady Katherine added to that kindness by showing such trust as to make me her factor, my opportunities for service toward the one I speak of, though occasionally frustrated by herself, were increased by closer proximity. Yet I remained what I was—but a poor crofter in the guise of a factor. However, when suddenly a few months ago my dear cousin was revealed to be Lord Snowdon’s granddaughter, hope sprang up in me that perhaps I myself might claim to be a
little
more than a mere peasant, even if not directly so. If I am not quite an aristocrat, perhaps I might claim sufficient standing to look a young lady of noble birth and character in the eye and tell her I love her. Therefore, after speaking to her mother, this I have done. Unbelievably, she reciprocated my sentiments. The result of all this is that I have the following announcement to make—that this afternoon I asked Miss Florilyn Westbrooke to be my wife, and she accepted me.”

Even before the words were out of his mouth, Florilyn was on her feet and hurrying toward him. As they embraced, the room erupted in surprised exclamations. The two were quickly surrounded by their family and friends and smothered in hugs and backslaps and handshakes and kisses of congratulations.

Steven’s announcement at last prompted Percy to talk seriously with his father and mother. Gwyneth had a similar conference with her father. The five then met together, Percy and Gwyneth seeking the combined counsel and wisdom of their three parents concerning their future and its timetable. No resolution was reached regarding Percy’s plans to attend law school, though his father recommended, and Mary and Codnor agreed, that he should travel to Aberdeen within the coming months to reassess possibilities. Now that it seemed clear that his future was in Wales, he needed to decide where his heart was leading him about his studies and future profession.

Out of these discussions and the prayer that followed, one decision was reached. The wedding that would join their two families would be held in Wales in eighteen months, a year from the following June. At Percy’s request, Vicar Edward Drummond would be presiding.

Two days after a festive and joyous Christmas, following a great Boxing Day “open house” at the manor to which the entire village had been invited, on a bright, sunny, cold afternoon, Gwyneth found Percy in the garden with his father and grandfather.

“Come join us, my dear!” said the earl, rising from the stone garden bench and greeting his grandson’s future wife with an embracing hug of affection.

“I don’t want to interrupt,” said Gwyneth, “but Percy, would you walk to the promontory with me later?”

“Sure—it is a perfect day for a walk.”

“Sit down, Gwyneth,” said Edward. “We were just talking about you. Percy was telling my father about his adventure in Ireland trying to find you, when he didn’t even know it was you he was trying to find!”

“I certainly never dreamed I would see Percy again,” said Gwyneth. “No, that’s not quite right,” she added. “I
dreamed
of seeing Percy again every day. But I did not see how I ever would.”

“I have to tell you,” Percy’s father went on, “I have tremendously enjoyed becoming acquainted with your father these last few days. He is a remarkable man.”

“I could not agree more,” smiled Gwyneth. “I don’t know that I have ever seen him happier. For my sake he was willing to make a new life for us in Ireland. But he is, after all, a Welshman at heart. He is so happy to be back home, as is Grannie.”

“But she is not actually your grandmother?”

“No, my great-great-aunt.”

“And Steven …”

“Is my cousin. His mother Adela is my father’s sister.”

“Ah … I think I have it straight at last!” laughed Edward.

An hour later Percy and Gwyneth walked to the edge of the promontory, bundled in several layers of clothes, and sat down on the damp grass. The winter sun was slowly dying into the sea in front of them.

“This is one of my favorite places,” said Gwyneth softly.

“One of
our
favorite places,” rejoined Percy, “as long as you’re not waiting for me at the harbor!”

“I have been coming here and sitting looking out over the sea since before I can remember,” Gwyneth went on. “I always associated the mystery of the sea with my mother. Now I know what happened. I have been to Ireland. I have seen the land where I was born. Yet I love it here no less that the mystery has been solved.”

“The sea is mysterious of itself,” said Percy. “And we still don’t know how that chest of gold came to be buried in the cave down there. That mystery may always baffle us.”

“But we found it. Imagine, Percy—we actually found a buried treasure! It’s a fairy tale!”

Percy turned toward Gwyneth. The setting sun had grown bright red at the wintry horizon. Whenever the sun shone just right, its rays turned Gwyneth’s light hair into a luminescent crown of gold.

“More a fairy tale for me than you,” said Percy as a smile played on his lips.

Gwyneth returned his gaze with a puzzled expression.

“I discovered the
real
treasure,” he said, “though it took me sailing back and forth across the Celtic triangle to find it. What is a chest of old coins compared to the gold I found? I found
you
!”

Gwyneth smiled and laid her head on Percy’s shoulder. He stretched his arm around her and drew her close.

“I love you, Gwyneth Barrie,” said Percy.

“And I you, Percival Drummond. I may be your gold, but you are every girl’s dream come true.”

They sat watching the sun slowly set. The moment the final speck of its red disappeared, the sky immediately seemed to explode in color. But the brilliant sunset was short lived. It was winter and the atmosphere was too thin to sustain the colors for long. Within fifteen minutes, dark blues and purples of approaching night began to engulf them in a descending blanket of darkness.

“Just think if we could live our lives with this view all the time,” said Percy, “overlooking the sea, watching every sunset.”

“Perhaps we can,” said Gwyneth.

“What do you mean?”

“Stand up, Percy, and turn around.”

Percy rose to his feet then pulled Gwyneth up to his side. They turned their backs to the sea. There stood the outline of Katherine’s new house against the night sky three hundred yards inland from the promontory.

“Are you thinking what I think you might be thinking?” said Percy slowly.

“I don’t think Lady Katherine really wants to move to the new house,” said Gwyneth.

“She is planning to. I’ve heard her say so.”

“Only because she thinks she ought to,” said Gwyneth. “She probably thinks we will want her to after I inherit. But we would get lost in the manor by ourselves. I would feel very awkward. It will always be Lady Katherine’s home to me. The new house is not half so big. Why should
we
not live in the new house, where we can see the sea every day and let Katherine and Florilyn and Steven and Adela all remain at the manor.”

“Gwyneth, that is a fantastic idea!”

“I will speak with Lady Katherine. We will do whatever she wants. As long as I am with you, Percy, I will be happy anywhere. But I cannot think of anything I would love more than to wake up every morning beside you and go to bed every night with the sound of the sea in our ears.”

E
IGHTY
-T
WO

Knotted Strands

T
ears came to Katherine’s eyes the next day when she realized what Gwyneth was suggesting.

“Oh, my dear girl!” she said, embracing Gwyneth with all the affection of true motherhood. “You would do that for me?”

“I would do whatever I could for you, Lady Katherine. Your happiness means more to me than anything.”

“More than your own?”

“Of course.”

Katherine shook her head in wonder. “I know you mean that with all your heart,” she said, stepping away and smiling down at the girl who had become to her as an adopted daughter. “I would love to be able to remain at the manor. There would also be more room for my parents. I only decided to build the new house because I assumed I would have to find another place to live. Once we realized that Courtenay would not inherit, I must admit wondering if I had made a mistake. Still, the manor
will
be yours one day. Should it not be your home?”

“I would rather think of it as
yours
, Lady Katherine,” replied Gwyneth. “The manor will be yours to live in and make use of as your own for as long as you wish it. If you would allow my family to live in your new house, I would be honored for you to remain at the manor.”

“Then the new house shall be my wedding gift to you.”

“To use, perhaps, but not to own,” said Gwyneth. “The new house and land shall remain yours. In your name, I mean,” said Gwyneth, “so that you will have them to pass on to Florilyn or Courtenay one day. You need to be mindful of your inheritance to them as well.”

“Perhaps you are right. We do not need to decide all those particulars just now. But you have made me very happy, Gwyneth. Thank you!”

With the arrangement between the present and future viscountesses, work at the new house continued as rapidly as the winter weather would permit. Doors, windows, cabinetry, shelves, fixtures, fireplaces and other brick- and stonework, and paneling and trim, were all completed by early February. By that time Percy, Steven, Courtenay, and Codnor were in the process of painting those rooms whose walls had been plastered rather than paneled in wood. Carpet and drapes were ordered and in place by early April. By the end of the month, though sparse of furnishings, the new house was ready for Codnor, Gwyneth, and Grannie to take up residence within its new stone walls. What remained of their furniture in the two cottages in the village, as well as what had been shipped from Ireland, was carted to the new house. Katherine added many furnishings from the manor as well. For two weeks the entire company at the manor contributed to the move. Carts, buggies, and wagons moved back and forth between the two houses and the village bearing furniture, boxes, beds, crates, chairs, clothes, wardrobes, utensils, food, wall hangings, pictures, and tapestries. The men of the manor helped Codnor outfit the new stables with tack, tools, saddles, feed, and all things needful for the barn and workshop. Meanwhile, the women remained busy in Gwyneth’s new kitchen and in making the bedrooms and other rooms of the house cozy and livable.

When at last the small Barrie family left the manor one evening after a great supper and prepared to spend their first night in their new home, it seemed as though some portion of the glory had departed. And indeed, life seemed dreary for a time in both houses. Even Gwyneth in the new house, notwithstanding her daily view of the sea, found it perhaps a little
too
quiet. But she saw Florilyn and Steven and Katherine and Adela daily. The path between the two houses was already well worn. Stuart Wyckham had planted a boxwood hedge and other shrubs alongside it. Gradually life returned to its old channels. Gwyneth ministered to Grannie and her father as she had in Ireland. Steven and Codnor continued to work on what interior details remained to be completed at the new house. Life between the two homes was soon flourishing as if they were one.

Percy spent much of the spring in Glasgow with his parents, taking up again his occasional legal work, and made a trip to Aberdeen to assess his options for resuming his law studies. Whenever he was in Wales, he took up residence in his former room at the manor.

Steven and Florilyn were married the following August. Percy stood beside Steven as best man, with Courtenay beside him. Gwyneth and Rhawn served as Florilyn’s two maids of honor. Steven and Codnor, along with their work on the new house, and with the help of several able carpenters and joiners, had remodeled a portion of the wing of the manor that had been used in former times as servants’ quarters. They had transformed it into an expansive apartment of seven rooms, occupying two floors, including a newly outfitted kitchen. It was ready by the day of the wedding. After a week’s honeymoon by boat north through Scotland’s western isles, the wedding couple took up residence in their new east-wing quarters.

Percy and Gwyneth were married a year later, in June of 1876. Percy would have chosen his father to be his best man had he not been officiating for the service. Those who stood before the proud vicar were the same six from the previous August. Edward’s own son, however, was now the bridegroom. The ceremony was conducted on the flat plateau between the new house and the promontory of Mochras Head. The entire village was invited, and nearly every one of its number attended. Percy had always been a great favorite. And now, even if belatedly, those of the community embraced his new bride and their future viscountess as if they had always secretly known that she was something beyond the ordinary. A great feast and celebration was held afterward on the grounds of the new house. As the day was bright and warm, it lasted most of the day. The bride and groom did not depart in their honeymoon carriage—which would take them that night to Barmouth, thence to the Lincolnshire resort village of Cumberworth—until after six o’clock.