Read A New Dawn Over Devon Online

Authors: Michael Phillips

Tags: #FIC042030, #FIC042000, #FIC026000

A New Dawn Over Devon (14 page)

“No . . . no, she hasn't,” replied Jocelyn. “—What is all this, Amanda?” she added, turning to Amanda.

“It all happened so suddenly,” she said, “and then with Father's death and the funeral . . . we just never seemed to get around to talking about it.”

Langham glanced toward Amanda. “May I tell them?” he asked.

Amanda smiled and nodded. Overhearing the lieutenant's question, Catharine now joined them again.

“It was a story of high intrigue and no little bravery on the part of your daughter, Lady Rutherford,” Langham said. “It all began one day when a London minister came to the door of the Lord of the Admiralty, asking to speak with Mr. Churchill, with a certain very attractive young lady at his side.”

As she listened Amanda smiled, then laughed occasionally to hear the lieutenant brag of her exploits. Gradually she quieted, and Jocelyn noticed a change come over her mood. Catharine, meanwhile, hung on the lieutenant's every word, supplying the narrative with just the right number of questions and exclamations.

By the time the tale was completed, they had nearly arrived back at the Hall.

“Would you join us for tea, Lieutenant?” asked Jocelyn. “Sarah made fresh bread this morning. In fact, as it is too late to return to London today, we would be delighted to have you stay the night. We have not had enough occasion to make use of our guest rooms lately.”

The invitation took the lieutenant by surprise, though he was clearly pleased.

“I made arrangements at the inn in Exeter,” he said slowly, revolving the thing in his mind. “But . . . yes, I think I would like that very much. I accept your kind offer.”

 16 
Name Out of the Past

Two hours later Amanda left the house following evening tea, still in a thoughtful mood.

The reminder of what had happened at the lighthouse sent her thoughts plunging back to Ramsay and the years of her prodigal sojourn in London and on the Continent.

As if he had read her mind, Lieutenant Langham followed her outside a few minutes later. Amanda heard him coming and slowed her step. He quickly caught her, fell into step beside her and offered his arm. She took it as they continued on in the same direction, unintentionally moving toward the heather garden.

“I hope I did not embarrass you earlier,” said Langham, “when I was telling your mother and sister what happened.”

“Only that you greatly exaggerated my role in it,” said Amanda, glancing toward him with a smile.

“Not so much,” rejoined the lieutenant. “Such organizations that surround themselves with the gloss of piety and respectability, and which use a certain amount of mind control, can never be brought down without the help of someone from the inside exposing the deception for what it is. Had you not come to us with what you knew, we would never have been able to shut down the spy ring connected to the lighthouse.”

“Did it really help?”

“Absolutely. It has already made a difference.”

“I am glad to hear it.”

“Mr. Churchill believes the tide of the war is turning. And that fact is certainly aided by the assurance that our shores are safe from German and Austrian spies. Although I am sorry to say that he is falling under a great deal of criticism for his conduct of the Dardanelles campaign. I fear he may not last much longer as First Lord of the Admiralty.”

It fell silent. They entered the narrow, winding paths.

“This is a wonderful little garden—and so many varieties of heather,” said Langham, glancing about him. “Is this how Heathersleigh got its name?”

“I don't think so,” replied Amanda. “Perhaps it did originally, but no one knows exactly where the name came from. My father and mother planted most of these shrubs.”

“A great deal of work.”

“They were always out here when I was young—planting, weeding, pruning, making new paths.”

“They must have loved this garden very much. Their care and hard work is obvious. It is a lovely setting.”

They continued to walk. In a first-floor window behind them, Catharine watched as they disappeared from view. She was pleased that Amanda had someone besides her and her mother who understood what she had been through.

Slowly a smile spread over her face.
You two look very nice together
, Catharine said to herself.
Maybe . . .

She allowed her youthful romantic musings to drift off vaguely without completing the thought, though the smile remained on her lips.

“I am glad for this opportunity to speak with you alone, Miss Rutherford,” Lieutenant Langham was saying as they walked. “I was hesitant to bring up the subject until we were free to talk, but I did have another reason for coming than merely conveying Mr. Churchill's concern for your mother.”

“What is it, Lieutenant?” asked Amanda.

“Our intelligence sources have located Ramsay Halifax,” Langham replied.

Amanda immediately tensed.

“Where?” she said in a shaky voice.

“On the Continent . . . southern France, then Austria.”

“Will he . . . ?”

“We do not think you are in any danger,” the lieutenant went on. “But we felt you ought to be informed. Colonel Forsythe has been instrumental in shutting down their operations on British soil.”

“At least that is a relief.”

“There are, however,” he added, “indications of continued activity by the Fountain of Light on the mainland. There has been no attempt to contact you?”

“None,” replied Amanda. “Do you think they will?”

“There is no way to know. We only want to make sure no danger comes to you or your family.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. I cannot tell you how much your concern means. But I hope I never see any of them again.”

“Be assured we will continue to monitor the situation. I am in close touch with Jack Whyte of the intelligence service. We will not let them come near you.”

“I appreciate your confidence,” said Amanda, “though knowing them as I do, I realize all too well that they have not forgotten me. I cannot help occasionally being nervous. They are not likely to forget my defection anytime soon.”

 17 
Difficult Thoughts About the Future

Two mornings after Lieutenant Langham's departure, Jocelyn awoke to strange sounds above her in the house. Her first thought was a reminder of George. As her brain made its rapid journey from sleep to wakefulness, she found herself wondering if his ghost had returned to carry out the explorations of the house he had been unable to complete before.

Gradually she came to herself, then rose, put on her dressing gown, and went to investigate. Almost directly above her own bedroom she found Betsy rummaging about on the third floor.

“Betsy dear, what are you doing?” she asked.

“Just exploring,” replied the girl enthusiastically. “The house is so huge. I never knew houses were so big in all the world. Catharine said it would be all right.”

“Yes, that's fine,” nodded Jocelyn, smiling to herself in humorous though poignant disappointment that it had not been George whom she had discovered. “You may go into any room that is unlocked. Only leave things as they are.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

On her way downstairs, Jocelyn glanced through the window and saw Amanda outside walking. She paused and now saw Catharine come bounding out of the house as well. The morning was windy,
and in the distance clouds appeared to be approaching at the front of a storm. After a moment, Jocelyn continued down to the ground floor and outside to join them.

Amanda had awoken early. After an hour with her Bible, retracing many now familiar scriptures for insights she might have missed, she had gone out into the frenetic morning. Lieutenant Langham's visit had stirred many thoughts—both happy and sad, both new and old—and she had been restless ever since his leaving. She left the house, enjoying the blustery summer tumult.

She had scarcely been out of the house five minutes when she heard footsteps running up behind her. She turned to meet them.

“Catharine!” she exclaimed. “Good morning—you're up early!”

“So are you. Thinking of Terrill?”

“Terrill!
” laughed Amanda. “You are on a first-name basis so soon?”

“Only to myself. I so love it when he calls me
Miss
Catharine,” she giggled.

“You're as bad as a silly schoolgirl! Why do you say that?”

“I don't know. It just sounds funny, so old-fashioned and formal. What does he call you?”

“Miss Rutherford, I suppose, now that I think about it.”

They walked on a few steps.

“I saw you and him alone in the heather garden the other evening,” said Catharine in a teasing tone. “With your hand through his arm, you looked very . . .”

She allowed her voice to trail off significantly. Her intended meaning was not lost on Amanda.

“What are you suggesting, Catharine?” said Amanda, glancing toward her sister.

“Only that he is very handsome, and that despite whatever he said to Mother about Mr. Churchill and the war and all that, he obviously came out here to see you.”

“To . . .
see
me?”

“You know what I mean, Amanda. You must know that he likes you.”

“You're not actually thinking—” she began, then paused briefly and looked at Catharine in disbelief. “—Catharine, I'm
married
,” she said. “Much as I would like to forget that fact, I cannot.”

“Perhaps you won't be forever,” persisted Catharine with a coy smile. “And he
is
handsome.”

“There is nothing between Lieutenant Langham and me,” insisted Amanda good-naturedly but firmly. “I cannot imagine you would even think it.”

Just then Jocelyn walked up behind them.

“I agree with you, Catharine,” she said. “The lieutenant is indeed a handsome young man. In a way, he reminds me of your father when he was young—dashing, friendly, courteous, full of hopes and plans. No wonder I fell in love with him—
Charles
, I mean,” she added laughing. “If anyone's going to fall in love with Lieutenant Langham, I'm afraid it will have to be one of you!”

Amanda said nothing. Catharine realized she had disturbed her sister's tranquility. She now turned back for the house so that the other two could be alone.

“Well, I'm going back inside,” she said and ran off.

Jocelyn and Amanda continued on some minutes in silence until they were well away from the Hall.

“That's just the trouble, Mother,” said Amanda at length in a more serious tone.

“What's the trouble, dear?” asked Jocelyn.

“Catharine was teasing me about Lieutenant Langham. She thought he was paying
me
some kind of romantic social call. I know she meant nothing by it, but it made me uncomfortable.”

“You don't think he was?”

“Of course not,” rejoined Amanda. “When we went out walking, remember, after tea, it was only so that he could tell me about Ramsay. I am certain he knows I'm married. I can't exactly remember if he heard when Ramsay told everyone—I think he was outside somewhere. But why else would he come all this way to inform me about him?”

“I don't know, dear. He does seem very fond of you.”

“But I am
married
, Mother.” Amanda paused briefly. “Sometimes I just don't know what I am going to do!” she burst out after a moment.

Again it was silent for several pensive seconds.

“Have you considered a divorce?” asked Jocelyn.

“Of course I have thought about it,” replied Amanda. “How could I not? The thought of what to do is with me constantly. But—”

“What is it, dear?” asked Jocelyn.

“I don't know if divorce is right. And I
couldn't
face having to locate Ramsay to sign papers. I don't ever want to see him or have anything to do with him again.”

“Why don't you talk to Vicar Coleridge?”

“I hardly know him, Mother.”

“He is a very nice man. Sometimes it helps to get an outside opinion on such things.”

“But I don't want someone's opinion. I want to know what is
right
. There are right opinions and wrong ones.”

“Your father was extremely fond of the vicar,” said Jocelyn. “He would not have respected him unless he thought him a wise man.”

Jocelyn paused and glanced about. The dark clouds had moved nearly overhead and the wind had intensified.

“If we stay out here much longer,” she said, “we may get soaked. And look at me—I'm still in my dressing gown! I have the feeling this is going to be quite a storm.”

Gradually they turned and began making their way back toward the Hall by way of the heather garden.

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