Ashton Park (55 page)

“Prefer you didn’t?” Catherine smiled through the rain and the veil. “It was one of his favorite songs. He loved whenever you sang it, though he always complained you didn’t sing it often enough. Now’s the time, Vic. Please.”

Ben held the umbrella over her while Victoria stood at the grave and sang to the king and the prime minister and Catherine and all the mourners who listened in the gray light and December showers.

The ash grove how graceful, how plainly ’tis speaking

The harp through its playing has language for me
.

Whenever the light through its branches is breaking
,

A host of kind faces is gazing on me
.

The friends from my childhood again are before me

Each step wakes a memory as freely I roam.

With soft whispers laden the leaves rustle o’er me

The ash grove, the ash grove alone is my home.

The Great Hall with its vast oil paintings and fireplace capable of burning eight-foot logs had been prepared to receive the guests after the service. The heat from the fire soon dried and warmed all those present, while the enormousness of the space seemed to make people speak in low voices. The king and his entourage lingered for half an hour before leaving by car for Lime Street Station and the royal train. During that time Kipp spoke with Albert, the king’s son, who had just had his twenty-seventh birthday on the fourteenth. Albert had been in the RAF during the war and the two of them had met once at an aerodrome near Amiens. The king spent a few minutes with Ben, on whose chest he had pinned the Victoria Cross, and Edward, whose survival of two sinkings at Jutland in 1916 was still fresh in the king’s memory. Just before his departure the king was introduced to Robbie, who was in the uniform of an army major, and Shannon.

“The sun has been on both your faces,” the king said. “It cannot have been in Ireland, even though they tell me you served in Dublin for a number of years.”

“I did serve in Dublin, Your Majesty. I was there during the uprising of Easter 1916 and I also served in the years before the treaty was signed. The sun is from Palestine.” He introduced Shannon. “My wife was born and raised in Dublin.”

She curtsied. “Thank you for lending our sister your sympathy in a time of sorrow, Your Majesty. It is an honor to have you at Ashton Park.”

“It is the least I could do for Sir William and his daughter. The Irish conflict goes on and on. But those in favor of the treaty seem to be gaining the upper hand. If they triumph will that end it, Mrs. Danforth? My advisors give me many opinions.”

Shannon was in black from head to foot but her emerald eyes gleamed out from behind the dark fabric. “There is always hope.”

“But?”

“My parents are republicans and nationalists. They have disowned me for loving an Englishman. Many of the leaders fighting each other once sat and debated in our home. I can tell you this, Your Majesty—even if the IRA should lose this fight they will never give up. Not in Dublin. Not in Belfast. They will lay down their arms once they have achieved a united Irish republic and not before.”

The king put his hands behind his back. “Another Hundred Years’ War?”

She thought about this, the green eyes sharp in a face bronzed by desert sun. Then she replied, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“I pray to God you are wrong.”

“I pray too, Your Majesty.”

Lord Scarborough was standing with Sir William at the doors to the manor as the king and prime minister drove off in their motorcade in a sudden downpour of sleet.

“It was good of him to come,” said Sir William. “It was good of both of them.”

“You have served England well, William. You shouldn’t be surprised to have the king stand with you in a time of tragedy. You worked hard to bring about the peace in Ireland.”

“The peace did not last long, I fear.”

“You gave them the opportunity. Our troops have left for good. Now it is up to the Irish to sort it out.”

“Albert had long ago stopped writing letters in support of an Ulster separate from the rest of Ireland.”

Lord Scarborough put his hand on Sir William’s shoulder. “A longing for independence can often breed the worst hatreds and atrocities the human race is capable of. The IRA keeps lists. And holds on to its grievances. Ulster became a separate nation on December seventh, divorced from Ireland and united to England instead. Albert supported that. They did not forgive him.”

“The child is due in the spring. He ought to have had a father. He ought to have had his own father.”

“I know that, old boy. This whole household will have to be the child’s father.” He patted Sir William’s back. “Come back inside out of the damp. I have something I must tell you.”

They stood in the hallway. It was empty.

“Listen. Tanner Buchanan has surfaced again. I’d rather not bring this up on a day of mourning. But it’s better you hear it from me.”

“What? Where is he?”

“Not skulking about my estate looking to get his hands on Caroline or the boy. Not hiding in your bushes either. You know I have been brought into the House of Lords? Well, I received this note from the prime minister ten minutes ago. I shall destroy it after you have read it.”

I have appointed a number of people to act in an advisory capacity and report directly to me. They hold no government post but I shall rely upon them heavily. They will be my assistants. When it comes to Scotland and the Highlands I look to a number of gentlemen. One of them is a Mr. Tanner Buchanan. I understand you have a history with this man. I ask you to lay that aside in the interests of the nation. I would appreciate it if you approach Sir William on this matter as well, for I believe there has been an incident between one of his sons and Mr. Buchanan. Pray let this all be put to rest. At a time when there is turmoil in Ireland and India and Palestine, the king counts on your placing Crown and Country above all lesser concerns.

“It isn’t just a matter of Arab versus Jew.” Robbie stood by the fireplace with his brothers and brothers-in-law: Ben, Michael, Edward, Kipp, and Jeremiah. “I don’t mean to belittle that. The Nabi Musa riots in the Old City of Jerusalem a couple of years ago were bad enough. And there are clashes all the time really. With Hajj Mohammad Amin al-Husayni as Grand Mufti the riots between Muslim and Jew are only bound to get worse. He hates the Jews and their desire to make Jerusalem the capital of a Jewish state. No sharing of the ancient land so far as he’s concerned. Muslims only. No Jews. No Zionists. No British for that matter. No one but true followers of Allah.”

“That sounds grim.” Kipp sipped at a mug of tea. “What else is there that makes things worse?”

“Jew against Jew. It’s exactly like we’re seeing in Ireland. There are Jews who favor a state that is a mixture of both Muslims and Jews. Those Jews who want a pure Jewish nation hate them. They will kill them if they can, just as the IRA kill those who don’t want an Irish Republic.”

Jeremiah removed his glasses and polished them on his robe. “What about the Arabs then? What about the ones who are Christians? What about the ones who don’t want an Islamic state?”

“The Muslims who want an Islamic Republic governed by Islamic law—not British law—will do the same to the Arabs who oppose them as the Jews do to those of their kind who resist a Jewish state.” Robbie made a gun with his finger and thumb and pulled the trigger.

“What do you think ought to happen?” asked Edward. “What’s your political solution?”

“Mine?” Robbie stared into the red and orange of the fire. “There were Jewish kings reigning in Jerusalem thousands of years before Islam came into existence. The Jews came by conquest. There have been Islamic rulers in Palestine for fifteen hundred years. The Muslims came by conquest too. So eliminate the extremists on both sides and let Jewish and Muslim moderates form a nation together.”

“The trouble is,” Michael spoke up, “it’s the extremists who eliminate the moderates, not the other way around.”

Robbie shrugged. “If they can’t make one country of Jews, Muslims—and Christians—then let them have two states side by side. Except I think they’d be at each other’s throats even if they did that. I believe that would have happened if the South had won the war in your America, Michael. Two nations, North and South, constantly having border conflicts and outright clashes.” He looked up from the blaze. “One nation of Muslims and Jews hammering matters out in political debate and compromise. That’s what I’d want. If that doesn’t come to pass there will be civil war within each group. And full-blooded hostilities between Jewish and Muslim armies.”

“Aren’t you a wealth of good cheer?” Ben inched away from the fire. “You must miss the heat. How does Shannon like Jerusalem?”

“She loves the climate, surprisingly. I thought she’d wilt. Loves the people too. But not the intrigue. Not the two battles for nationhood going on. That’s too much like home.”

“Can’t go on in Ireland forever.” Edward smiled and put his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. “Won’t go on in Palestine forever either.”

“How is Kipp?” asked Lady Caroline.

Caroline and Christelle were in black with their veils lifted.

“Ah, Caroline. Our Kipp is well. Distraught over what’s happened to Catherine of course. But he’s a good father, doting on Matthew, and doing all his flying safely, no war stunts, just delivering mail and packages. How is your boy?”

“Oh, Charles is coming along tremendously, Chris. He’s with his grandmother upstairs in that child’s playroom you’ve set up. Mum and Dad are both wonderful with him.”

“Any sign of our dark foe, Buchanan?”

“Papa has hired extra servants who follow me about like detectives from Scotland Yard. I don’t know whether Tanner has lost interest because Kipp bopped him on the nose or whether the extra protection has made him keep his distance. Perhaps he’s just waiting for an opportunity.”

“I hope not. I pray he has moved to Calcutta or Bombay. Far away. Listen, my dear.” Christelle put her hand under Caroline’s arm and drew her close. “A number of us are going over to Belfast to help Cath move back to Ashton Park. Emma, Libby, Aunt Holly, Victoria, Char, myself—Shannon, if she’s still here. I would like you to join us.”

“Why…I would love to help the poor thing, of course…but I’m not family—”

“Of course you are. Your father and Sir William are good friends now,
n’est-ce pas
? Look at them standing over there and talking together. Our children are playing with one another upstairs. If this were a different culture—Africa, yes?—then you and I would both be Kipp’s wives. Sisters really. So in my mind you are family. Will you not help us? There is so much to do. It would be wonderful to have another pair of hands.”

“But Charles—”

“Bring him here to Ashton Park where he can be with the other children. Your mother can come and keep an eye on him and spend a few days with Lady Elizabeth. Why not?” She took Caroline’s hand. “I would love to have you with us in Ireland. In truth, I’m a bit of an outsider,
la femme française—
lovely as the sisters are to me. I only feel the kinship with Charlotte, the one who was a maid before marrying Edward. And Shannon—the Dubliner and Catholic.”

“Yes, of course, I know Charlotte and Shannon.”

“With you I will feel more at home, yes, more myself.”