"Yes, of course."
"Flynn, the chap who got me to the beach, has grandparents and other relatives here. Two of the other men in the battalion also had Irish relations. I'll call on them."
"After that?"
"Little meditation somewhere. When I'm meditated out, I'll probably try to wipe out London."
Brodhead chuckled.
"You might like it here in Ireland, Landers. It has some rather decent places. Splendid boating at Kinsale. I could lay that on for you. Also, some marvelous private trout streams in Ulster. Horses, they are good with horses, the Irish-about the only thing they're good at. Some of the scenery in the west is worth taking in. The people are strange but harmless. They are awful liars. You'll find that out the first time you ask for directions."
"Never thought about staying in Ireland for any time."
"Landers, I've done something naughty."
"You, sir?"
"Sometimes when an exceptional officer is up for medical discharge, the War Office will make an exception, if...a ranking officer requests him for special duty."
GLORY! "Sorry, General, I don't follow you."
"I am convinced that what I am doing here in Ireland will do as much to preserve the British Empire as our army in France. It is vital to our continued imperial existence that we silence the Irish. We can't have Irish ale house politicians pounding on the peace table, now, can we. They'll set off unrest through our entire colonies."
"I think I understand what you're saying, sir."
Brodhead reached into the pocket of his smoking jacket and withdrew a handful of officer's pips. "I wore these when I was promoted to captain, more years ago than I'd like to think about. The War Ministry is willing to grant exception if you remain in Ireland on my personal staff."
Rory seemed bewildered.
"I'll tell you why, Landers. I'm putting together a small but unique team of officers, directly reporting only to me, to see and hear and know everything that is happening in this country. You are one of the most ingenious young men I've come across. You get things done, if by the rule or not. I know how you smuggled Dr. Norman off Gallipoli. I also know how many Turks you killed during their counterattack. Stick with the Army for a few more years. I see nothing but a brilliant career for you...and, I need you."
"I'm a New Zealander, sir."
"Well, New Zealanders are British! You signed up for the duration."
"In actual fact, I'm not all that anxious to return home this way, and particularly after what you've offered me."
"Well, good enough. If I may indulge in a moment of sentimentality, you would be taking Christopher Hubble's place. How say you?"
"Pretty heady stuff, sir. Let me make my rounds here in Ireland and report back to you. Let me think it through."
"And I'll hold these for you," he said putting the pips back in his pocket. "So, where do you head for first?"
"I've been in contact by phone and mail with Countess Hubble. She was unable to travel to London to see me. Seems that her father has had a severe stroke and is completely paralyzed."
Brodhead rested his head on his chin, sadly. "Beastly time for that great family," he murmured. "Lord Roger, a most, most wonderful human being simply sailed off into eternity, God rest his soul. Sir Frederick! What an Ulsterman that was! Caroline told me he was stricken over the boys."
"How will I find her?"
"The most exquisite creature who ever graced Ulster," Brodhead said. "She's not a child any longer, in her mid-fifties, but she is still the queen of Ulster in my book. When I paid her my sympathy call, it was she who was worried about me rather than about herself."
"I'm anxious to see her."
Brodhead took a long sip of the potent cognac and his eyes showed the first glaze of intoxication. "Shall I let you in on a secret?"
"Please don't tell me anything you'll regret tomorrow."
"Oh, you'll know what I mean when you lay eyes on her. I have adored that woman, from afar, for three decades. Of course, I've never been so much as a ha'penny out of line. Lord Roger and I were thick chums. With him gone, so tragically...and my own marriage rather...well...stale...Beatrice and I have had separate bedrooms for years. Good Lord, what am I prattling on about?"
"Sounds very understandable to me, General."
"Caroline is a bit of a wild one, wrong politics, and all that-a carefree youth in Paris. She's got this Irish clown Galloway hanging around her-for the money, no doubt-but he's off in London, producing a play or something. Lord Roger kept her in hand, made a great woman out of her. Now, by God, she's doing the right thing, staying in Belfast at her father's side." He stopped to see how this was going down with Landers. Yes, Landers was showing loyalty incarnate.
"General Brodhead, I am honored by your trust."
Sir Llewelyn cleared his throat.
"She is best handled by a strong person like Lord Roger. It would seem that she's ready for a real man to comfort her now."
"Lady Caroline will certainly know of my own feelings toward you, sir."
Brodhead grinned broadly. "Do think it over and come back as one of my aides."
"Thank you, sir. I'll return in a fortnight with my answer."
76.
Late May, 1916 "Lieutenant Landers, you're most welcome!"
"Thank you, Countess Hubble."
"Please call me Caroline," she said, signaling the butler. "Take the Lieutenant's bags up to Jeremy's apartment."
They stared at each other curiously, then came together for a shyish peck on the cheek.
"Jeremy was right," Rory said, "you must be the most beautiful woman in Ireland."
"Twenty years removed, at least," she said. His voice, strange, a recollection flashed through her.
"Something wrong, ma'am?"
"What?"
"You're staring at me," Rory said.
"Oh, I'm sorry. You hit me with a startling family resemblance to someone. Even the voice."
"Everyone says that. I guess I've got a very common face."
"And I'd say that with your blarney, you're a once-removed Irishman."
"I've not a drop of Irish blood, I'm afraid. A New Zealand mongrel."
"Now, what are you staring at?" she asked.
"I've never seen a place like this."
"I'll give you the tour later." She took his arm, guiding him past the entry. "We've a rare day of sunshine. Why don't we get acquainted in the garden."
The garden, fountain, and view to the museum was likewise stunning, quite beyond belief that Jeremy, or for that matter, any human being could live in such a place.
Caroline ordered refreshments. Rory remained enchanted with everything, and herself as well. She was dressed in lavender and was lightly scented, but the darkness beneath her eyes told him that she had gotten herself up for the occasion. Caroline's hair was half-gray now but she still cut a figure that would have tempted any man a generation younger.
"How long can I have you?" she asked.
"As long as you can stand me," he answered. "I do plan a trip in the south and west to call on the relatives of some lads from our battalion."
The maid came with a tray, followed by the butler with an ice bucket.
"How did you know I wanted a beer?"
"Every New Zealander wants beer. You're much younger than I envisioned."
"Well, the one thing a place like Gallipoli does, is offer rapid advancement."
"I'm terribly sorry I was unable to visit you at the hospital in London. My father has had several strokes and the last one, when the bad news came, was rather severe. Are you going to end up in London?"
"Probably, sooner or later."
"My gentleman, Gorman Galloway, well, he's not exactly my gentleman. He's my guy. Gorman is producing a play in London. Sorry he isn't here to meet you, but he's the man to do up London with...if you like actresses."
Rory laughed. She was splendid. "I read most of Jeremy's letters and he read mine. Gorman Galloway is a very funny fellow. I look forward to meeting him."
"He's been the rock. He's kept things together for us. How are you coming along, Rory?"
Rory explained his medical condition; rest, then reappraisal. Probably more surgery on his hand and wrist up to the elbow. The eyes? Well, one could live with it.
Rory played with the beer glass, set it down. "How goes it with you, Lady Caroline?"
"Lousy, thank you. As you can see by the surroundings, at least I get to suffer in comfort. I've reached that point where I put ha'pennies in the little fortune machines on the boardwalk of the amusement park. There has to be a reason one just does not die with her sons. I'm on a day-to-day basis to try to find that reason. I can't tell you how I've been looking forward to your visit."
"How much do you really want to know?" Rory asked.
"You're very wise and very sensitive for your age, Rory. I want to know everything."
"Some of it is going to be very painful."
"Of course it will be, but at least I'm sharing with them. I know we'll have occasion to laugh. I think it will be most comforting."
"I'm looking for a tad of comfort, myself," Rory said. "Right off, Jeremy...well, I'll never have another friend like him."
"Here I am pitying myself so much I didn't stop to realize how much you've suffered."
"It's been a bitch, lady," Rory said.
"I'm so glad you're here," she said.
"Jeremy transformed himself into a most splendid human being. I wish you'd seen the character and competence of this man. He handled the news of his baby's death like a champion."
"Molly died in childbirth, at the same time. I thought it was too much to hit him with both deaths at the same time. I was going to wait until, at least, he got off Gallipoli."
"We'd figured that might be the case with Molly. He had one determination. He was going to come out of it as a man even if he had lost her."
"You don't know how wonderful that makes me feel. He was a wreck when he left Ireland."
"Lovely man...we were all crazy about him."
"And Christopher?"
Rory scratched his head. "Old Major Chris."
"Somewhat of a horse's ass, I take it," Caroline said.
"In Egypt, till he got news of his wife, he was a shyte of major proportions. What can I say? But he turned into very much of a human being. Chris was funny with all his Brit crap. He found out something the hard way about the loyalty and love men can give each other."
"Chris? Jeremy told me he had changed to an all-right fellow, but..."
"What about that wife of his?"
"She's living a middling life in Canada. I can't fault her for leaving, but she's not worth the bother."
"I'm going to tell you something you might not believe, but it's true. Chris also realized why she left him, and he never once wished her ill."
"Are you telling me the truth, Rory?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"That's hard to believe," she said softly.
"I know. But seeing both those lads grow into fine men was a revelation to me, and the experience of them has been important to my own life. It told me I could also rise above my own sorrows."
"And I can as well?" she asked.