Lovers in Enemy Territory (14 page)

As always her words brought light out of the darkness. "Your wisdom is inspired, Holy Mother. I’ll discuss it with Michael's father. It sounds the perfect solution."

"I'm relieved then, my child. You’re sorely missed. I trust you’ll come back to us soon."

"I’ll telephone when I know the date of my return."

"Sister? Don't stay away too long. The Mother General from Rome has just paid the convent an unprecedented visit. She has come on orders from the Holy Father himself. There is other work for you to do upon completion of your mission at Norwood."

CHAPTER SEVEN

Other work?

"Very well, Holy Mother."

“Bless you, Sister.”

Catherine replaced the receiver, wondering what her mentor meant. Why had the Mother General come to England in the first place with a war on? Catherine paced the floor. Under ordinary circumstances she would be eager for an assignment, but she was no longer the same Sister from before.

After her prayers she left the room and went downstairs. The house was spacious and tastefully furnished. She wandered from room to room, until she came to the drawing room. The piano drew her attention. Michael and his father had not yet returned and she needed an outlet for her emotions so she sat down at the keyboard.

Catherine’s mother had taught her to play. From the first days of her arrival at the convent, she’d practiced a lot since with Sister Anna who was a beautiful organist. Under her tutelage Catherine had learned to play well and her technique had improved. As she played a Chopin nocturne, Philip walked through the front door. He’d come fresh from a momentous day at the House. Lloyd George and the Prime Minister had met in debate.

Philip was still mulling over Churchill's stirring address when his ears picked up the strains of music. He walked over to the door and peered in. No one had ever played the piano like that before. Whoever it was, was good, very good. He stepped inside and saw Catherine. Her back was toward him. She had no idea he was standing there and he had no intention of letting

her know.

He sat down in a chair near the door. A few minutes later Michael came in the house, but went straight upstairs. Then Elinore and Jeffrey were in the hall and came immediately to the drawing room to discover the source of the music. Philip watched them approach and put a finger to his lips. He had a feeling

she would stop if she knew an audience had gathered. She was much too modest to flaunt such talent.

Jeffrey, hot and exhilarated from the ride, leaned against the door jamb and closed his eyes. She was playing Chopin. He’d never liked practicing the piano, though he and Phil had been forced to take lessons when they were young. But he loved classical music and she was playing with great depth of feeling. There was fire in her. A whole new dimension of her personality was revealed in her playing.

Elinore could scarcely believe her ears. It didn't seem possible that an obscure convent in Wiltshire could produce such talent. Was there anything Sister Catherine couldn't do? She turned on her heel and marched up the stairs to change. The music followed her to her room, even after she’d slammed the door.

Catherine finished the piece and stopped. She sat before the piano with her head bowed for a few minutes, then closed the lid and moved off the bench.

"That was beautiful, Sister."

She gasped and turned around, shocked to hear a voice. Philip was standing by his chair smiling. Then she saw Jeffrey leaning against the door.

"I'm sorry," she searched for words. "I thought it might be all right if I played the piano. No one was here."

"Sister," Philip rushed to reassure her. "I've never heard lovelier music."

"Thank you.”

"Michael never told me about your extraordinary talent," Jeffrey said.

"Maybe that’s because it’s not very extraordinary and because he has never heard me play anything but simple tunes for the children. I practice in a room above the chapel and the children are not allowed in that part of the convent."

"Do the sisters get to hear you play?" Jeffrey questioned further.

"Sister Anna and I take turns accompanying the mass."

"Did you learn to play like that early in life?" Jeffrey had forgotten Philip was in the room with them.

“Yes. My mother had exceptional talent and taught me.” The way he looked at her only made further explanations more difficult. "Music feeds my soul."

"Perhaps after dinner you would feed the rest of us," Philip broke in.

"I think not.”

"Please, Sister," Jeffrey pressed. "After all those years of practice, and Phil and I know a little about that," he smiled at his brother, "it would be wrong if you didn't share your gift with the rest of us. I for one could listen to you play indefinitely." He paused. "God has been especially kind to you, Sister, in many ways." He turned and left the room before she had a chance to answer.

"Jeff is right. You are special," Philip said before leaving to freshen up before dinner.

Catherine
hurried
out
of
the
room.
Where
could
she
go?
If
she
stayed
in
this
house
much
longer,
she
would
lose
her
perspective
altogether.
Without
a
conscious
thought
she
went
outside
and
started
walking.
The
eve
ning
breeze
was
rustling
the
leaves
of
the
trees.
There
was
magic
in
the
air,
and
perfume
from
the
blossoming
fruit
trees.
Her
body
felt
a
wonderful
pain,
even
to
the
palms
of
her
hands.

"Sister," Michael was madly waving to her from the threshold. "We are going to have dinner!" he shouted loudly.

"I'll be along later, Michael. Go ahead without me." She couldn't go in just yet. There were things to be sorted out. She walked aimlessly about the grounds. After a while she went back to the house. Tonight she must begin to build up her spiritual strength. Abstinence from food was the first step.

Jens saw her in the hall. He escorted her to the dining room at the back of the house. The family was seated around a rectangular table eating dessert. Catherine was glad to see that dinner was almost over.

"Why didn't you come in, Sister? Millie cooked steak and kidney pie." Jens pulled a chair out from the table so she could be seated. All eyes were upon her.

"I needed to be alone, Michael."

Jeffrey sensed an aloofness about her, but it was Philip who spoke his mind. "Is something wrong?"

Catherine's head was bowed. "In the scriptures, the Lord says, ‘my ways are not your ways." Her head came up. "Forgive me if my ways seem strange to you."

Philip didn't know what to say. Jeffrey swallowed hard. Something was wrong. Catherine was removed from him tonight and it hurt, yet it endeared her to him more.

"I don't think you're strange, Sister.” Michael's cheerful

comment broke the silence. He had a way, she smiled sadly to herself.

Elinore resented the fact that everyone was so involved in the Sister's display of whatever, and her entrance had been very ill timed. The conversation was just getting interesting, if not informative. "Finish telling us about the debate, Philip. You've left me hanging."

"The Prime Minister really let George have it. It was something to hear." Philip turned to Jeffrey. "I'm sure you're aware that some of the staff officers opposed the Greek operation, felt it cost us the reverses in Libya. Well Churchill has received the brunt of the blame.

“Today he put his critics down royally. By Jove, it was a good show," Philip grinned. "Only three votes against him. The lot of us cheered him to the rafters. I say, let him run the whole damn business. The man is a genius. I'd march into hell with him, cheering."

Catherine smiled at Philip. He expressed her sentiments exactly. She’d followed Churchill's career with total admiration and couldn't refrain from comment. "He’s a prophet in tailored clothing. Every Englishman and woman should pledge him undying homage!"

Jeffrey's spoon dropped to his plate and he stared at her, wondering

where that remark had come from. He too felt the head of England was an

inspired man.

Elinore looked shocked. “Do you follow the war so closely at the

convent, Sister? I thought your allegiance to God precluded all else."

Catherine didn’t miss the note of sarcasm, nor did the two brothers. "Christianity has always been at war with evil, Mrs. Norwood," Catherine stated, staring Elinore down. "As Mr. Churchill has so aptly pointed out, Hitler is the devil incarnate."

Jeffrey sat straighter in his chair, intrigued with her tone of superiority and righteous indignation. Her remarks seemed to jolt Elinore.

"Aren't those words a little strong for a bride of Christ?" Both Jeffrey and Philip raised questioning glances at Elinore.

"They're not strong enough," Catherine replied with ice in her usually mellow voice. Her eyes narrowed. "My order has priories all over the continent, even in South America. Some of our sisters in Poland, France and Belgium were paraded through the streets with their heads shaved when the Nazis invaded their helpless lands, sacking and pillaging even the holy sanctuaries.

“In Poland, a contingent of Nazis raided a monastery and shot the brethren as they chanted the Holy Office." Catherine paused to allow the words to

sink in. "We must always stay informed, Mrs. Norwood. The same thing could have happened in England," Her voice grew bolder, "But by the grace of God, and Mr. Churchill, so far it has not! Let us all be thankful for that."

For a minute there was total silence.

"Amen," Jeffrey affirmed, shaking his head at this remarkable woman. Her eyes were filled with violet fire, and her face radiated a glow which came from her very soul. She would make a formidable adversary. He'd never seen her more beautiful than she was just now. The candle light flickered on her face, showing to advantage the proud tilt of her chin, her exquisite facial structure.

And her eyes... he couldn’t get enough of them. She was more than a woman at times, he muttered to himself.

Philip nodded his approbation. "Well said, Sister. Bravo. No one has ever put it better. We could use someone like you on our ticket, and I mean that as a supreme compliment."

Catherine expelled a sigh which seemed to change her back into the submissive, sweet Sister she always appeared to be. "I'm afraid my habit wouldn't get me very far, Mr. Norwood.”

"On the contrary, Sister," Jeffrey broke in. "It might be just the thing to shake up a few old fogies, eh Phil? How could they possibly argue about your sources of inspiration?"

Catherine eyed him. “Is there anyone on this island who doesn't recognize from Whom the Prime Minister receives his?" Jeffrey nodded and the two of them communicated in silence.

"Well, if they could hear you talking, they'd be believers soon enough I should imagine," Philip reiterated with a voice full of emotion. He had eyes only for

Catherine. Jeffrey realized his brother was fascinated by her too. Jeff was feeling possessive of her and couldn't help himself.

Elinore grimaced. "You sound as if you have a personal interest in the war, Sister. May I ask why?" Philip glanced at his wife. She was unusually persistent tonight.

"Yes. When my oldest brother died in the war, I was bitter and my father never got over it. I’d supposed his death was in vain. Now I know better. The bitterness is gone. It’s our duty to check tyranny. Throughout all of history beginning with the death of Abel, the Devil has wreaked havoc upon humanity, yet there has never been anything more devastating than the Blitzkrieg in my opinion."

Her eyes flashed with an intensity which held them all spellbound. "Hitler would wage war upon the entire world, Mrs. Norwood. I firmly believe he’ll destroy civilization if given the chance. We mustn't let that happen," she almost whispered, but her voice still held an awesome power.

Jeffrey felt a lump in his throat. "I agree, Sister. The man is a lunatic. Last month they marched on Greece. There's no predicting what he’ll do next."

For once Elinore had no retort. Never in her life had she felt such animosity for another human being. She would have to be careful that her dislike for Sister Catherine didn’t become apparent to all. She would have to deal with Sister Catherine in her own way and in her own time.