Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
Ravenglass
They chose a brisk, sunny day to go into town.
Douglas had insisted on coming downstairs and was comfortably settled in the drawing room by the time they were ready to leave.
He sat before a roaring fire, a cup of tea in his hand and his favorite record playing softly on the gramophone.
Nurse Jeffries, who although a pleasant woman had the demeanor of a drill sergeant, sat by the window, her melancholy gaze on the wintry parkland beyond.
Geneva felt reassured by her presence and knew that she wouldn’t take any guff from her father if she felt he needed to rest or was due for his medication.
He was in capable hands, and the nurse had reassured them there was no call to rush back.
Geneva got behind the wheel, and, once Jesse cranked the motor, he called out, “I’m riding shotgun.”
“What does that mean?” Honor asked.
“It means I’m riding in the front.”
“What does a shotgun have to do with it?”
“A person armed with a shotgun used to ride next to the driver of a stagecoach, in case it was ambushed.”
“Who by?” Honor asked.
“Hostiles.”
“And are you expecting to get ambushed?” Geneva asked.
“You never know. You Brits are an unpredictable lot,” Jess quipped and got in next to her.
Honor had no choice but to ride in the back seat, but she didn’t seem to mind. She was so excited to go on an outing, she’d have ridden on the bonnet if the situation had called for it.
“Have you ever shot anyone?” she asked Jesse as they drove through the gates and started down the lane.
“I have,” he replied but did not elaborate, and Geneva realized that he was referring to his military service. Honor seemed to get that too because she didn’t ask any more questions and turned to gaze out at the passing landscape.
It was too windy to maintain a conversation, so the three of them sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
Uncertain as she felt about everything at the moment, Geneva decided that she would permit herself to have a nice time and take a break from endless worrying.
She wasn’t going to solve anything today, least of all her feelings about Rory.
But as the car barreled along, she couldn’t help but replay their final conversation in her mind, her memories illuminated by the unforgiving light of day.
And the lightness she had felt for a few short moments began to dissipate, her heart once again heavy with foreboding.
Rory had come to the house last night and had asked her to walk with him.
It would have been churlish to refuse, especially after the way they had parted earlier, so she’d put on her coat and hat, and the two of them had gone outside and had turned onto the path that wasn’t clearly visible from the house.
Geneva hadn’t wanted Honor to see them. And she’d also realized that she didn’t care for Jesse to notice them walking off together.
She owed him no explanation, but she preferred to keep her meeting with Rory to herself.
Until she knew where things stood, it paid to keep her cards close to her chest. After all, Jesse wasn’t exactly showing his hand just yet.
“I’m sorry, Genny,” Rory said as soon as they were away from the house. “I had no right to lose my temper with ye. It’s just that I feel so helpless.”
“I don’t blame you, Rory,” Geneva said. “But I’m not in a position to make any decisions just now.”
“I understand.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
Rory stopped walking and faced her in the gloaming, his eyes shadowed by the brim of his flat cap.
“I’ve had some time to think, and there are things I need to say to ye, lass.
I know I should have said them before, but perhaps I needed to be certain in my own heart that I meant them.
I love ye, Genny, and I will do whatever it takes.
And if me becoming a Protestant will make things easier for ye, then I’ll do it.
It took me some time to arrive at that conclusion, but what I came to realize is that I’m a spiritual man, not a devout one, so the trappings of religion are not a sticking point for me. ”
Geneva opened her mouth to say that she loved him too, but found that she wasn’t ready to make such a declaration, nor would she have offered to convert to make things easier for him.
Maybe that was because she simply couldn’t see past the next few weeks, or maybe it was an indication of her feelings for him.
They weren’t strong enough to overcome adversity.
“Rory, I need time,” she said. “I know I keep saying that, but I’m simply not in a position to make any important decisions at the moment. Give me until the new year.”
He nodded, but she sensed rather than saw his disappointment. He had hoped she’d give him something to hold on to.
“I have something for ye,” he said. “I rang my mam and had her send it from Dublin.”
Rory pulled a small box from his pocket, and Geneva’s heart sank.
She wasn’t ready to wear his ring yet. She stared at the box, and after several tense moments Rory opened it at last. Inside was a filigreed silver band, with two tiny hands holding a crowned heart at the center.
Geneva had never seen anything like it but thought it quite beautiful, if a little disconcerting.
It reminded her of the Jesus figurines she’d seen where the heart was on the outside of the body.
She knew it was meant to represent Jesus’s love for all mankind, but the blood-red heart frightened her, maybe because instead of Jesus what she saw was Jack, whose chest had been ripped open by an exploding shell, his heart laid bare as he died.
“This is a claddagh ring,” Rory said when the silence had stretched for too long.
“It can be given as an engagement ring or a wedding band, but really it’s just a sign of commitment.
It’s to show ye how much ye mean to me and how serious I am about a future with ye.
Ye don’t need to put it on if ye’re not ready.
But hold on to it, and when ye come to a decision, ye can either slip it on or give it back.
Just know that ye have a choice, and maybe the knowledge will help ye to feel less adrift. ”
Geneva’s eyes filled with tears. That was the nicest thing he could have said to her. Choices were what she craved most, and to know that he was giving her one made her understand just how deeply he cared for her.
“I will treasure it,” she said and slipped the box into her own pocket. “And I will wear it proudly when the time comes.”
Rory pulled her close and kissed her. And for the first time in days, she felt content rather than scared or weighed down by grief.
They spent a few more minutes in the shadows, lost in a warm embrace, but then Geneva had to go.
It was time to change for dinner, smile, and make small talk with the man who’d come to usurp her life.
Geneva was jolted from her thoughts when they reached the outskirts of Barrow-in-Furness.
It was a grim industrial town, crowded with unsmiling, rough-looking people clad in worn, drab garments.
The road was choked with motorcars, delivery wagons, and lorries, and the stench of grease, manure, and coal soot filled her nostrils.
Unaccustomed to navigating such congested streets, she grew flustered, and slammed on the brake when a lorry pulled out in front of her.
The car behind her clipped the rear bumper and forced the Austin 7 into the side of a parked dray wagon.
As far as Geneva could tell, no real damage had been done, but the accident prompted a barrage of shouted insults from the vehicles behind her and the owner of the wagon, who insisted she’d crippled his horse—language so vile, it brought her to tears.
Her hands trembled as she tried to right the motor.
“Pull over,” Jesse said quietly.
She did, and he slid into the driver’s seat once she had shifted over.
Jesse patted her gloved hand. “You could do with a gin fizz. What do you think, Honor?”
“I think I need one too. I’m quite overcome,” Honor replied and raised a limp hand theatrically to her forehand.
“Ladies, say no more.” Jesse guided the car down the crowded street with a mastery that managed to impress Geneva in her panicked state.
She shut her eyes, took a deep breath, and relaxed into the leather upholstery. It felt nice to have someone take charge, and she was suddenly sure that she would be just fine with Jesse at the wheel.