Winthrop Manor Read online

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

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  Winthrop Manor

  A Novel of Great Love During the Great War

  Mary Christian Payne

  Copyright © 2017 by Mary Christian Payne. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in retrieval systems, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recorded or otherwise without written permission from the publisher.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown, living or dead to the author, and all incidents, other than actual World War Two references and following historical episodes are pure invention.

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  Dedication

  To Jim

  The Only Dream I Ever Had That Never Died in The Face of Reality

  CHAPTER ONE

  In early May 1914, James “Win” Bradley, Viscount Winterdale cantered his magnificent stallion, Black Orchid, along a lane that passed in front of a small cottage owned by a gentleman named Roderick Chambers. The cottage sat outside of Winthrop-on-Hart, a little village in Hampshire, England. The quaint hamlet, surrounded by rolling countryside, rested in a lovely valley near the river Hart, from which the village took its name. Though his Christian name was James, no one in his memory had ever used that name when speaking to him. His more distant acquaintances called him Winterdale, and closer friends, along with family, always knew him as Win.

  It was a spectacular day, with the bluest sky and trees that were filling with young leaves, turning the surroundings into a green, misty veil. Win was feeling on top of the world—it was wonderful to be young, free, and unencumbered. As his horse ran rapidly ‘round a curve in the road, he spotted a woman standing in front of the cottage he had seen from a distance. She appeared to be a fetching young lady who was pruning roses on an arch over the gate leading to the cottage. She wore a simple, ankle-length frock printed with violets and a wide-brimmed sunhat adorned with lavender ribbon.

  Win glanced towards her, and she looked up, her attention no doubt drawn by the sound of hoof-beats. Pulling on the reins, he came to an abrupt halt. He dismounted. The young lady removed her gardening gloves and moved rather timidly towards the white-picket fence. Win secured Black Orchid to the hitching post outside the gate, and he began to stride in the girl’s direction. He studied her closely as they approached each other. Drawing nearer, he was astounded to find that he had apparently stumbled upon a young lady who appeared to be uniquely impressive, in the midst of what was primarily sheep-herding country. Her hair was chestnut -coloured, and it reached her shoulders. She had as fine a complexion as he had ever seen, with a definite pale-pink luminosity on her high cheekbones. Win was particularly taken with her eyes. They were vivid blue, topped with straight, dark brows and matching long lashes. She was taller than average, with a minuscule silhouette and a tiny waistline, which contributed to an overall impression of willowy delicacy.

  “What a splendid stallion,” she exclaimed, leaning against the fence, her curls stirring a bit in the breeze.

  He wasn’t surprised to note that her voice was as lovely as her other attributes. She reached up and brushed a strand of hair from her eyes.

  “What is his name?” she asked.

  “Black Orchid. I’ve just brought him over from Ireland. I plan to race him at Ascot in June. He holds an outstanding pedigree." Win paused. Reaching across the fence, he took hold of her hand.

  "Forgive me. I should introduce myself,” he said, smiling broadly. “My name is James Bradley. Actually, my given name is James. But I’ve always been known as either Winterdale or Win. My father is the Earl of Winthrop, and I am officially known as The Viscount Winterdale. My acquaintances call me Winterdale, but my close friends and family refer to me as Win. Please, feel free to address me as Win. I thought I was acquainted with most everyone in this area, but I don't recall ever meeting you. Are you new to the region?”

  “Yes, Win, I’m rather new to this area,” she answered, displaying a sweet, dimpled smile. “My name is Josephine Chambers. My uncle owns this cottage. His name is Roderick Chambers. Since your father is the earl of Winthrop, does your family have a conectioi with the nearby village, Winthrop-on-Hart?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, it takes its name from our home, Winthrop Manor, a holding just outside Winthrop-on-Hart. The village was a coach stopover during Henry VIII's reign. It's said he was a guest at Winthrop Manor many times.”

  She placed her hand over her heart, drawing in a deep breath. “Oh, how truly grand,” she said. “Of course, I’m well aware of England’s marvellous history, but having spent the majority of my life in London, I’ve not had the occasion to view a home such as yours. I would think you’d be overcome by its yesteryear surroundings.”

  As she spoke, Win noticed a certain shyness revealing itself. A soft blush coloured her face. He also detected a habit of listening intently when he spoke to her. Her eyes opened wide, and she obviously concentrated on every word he spoke. Clearly, she was genuinely interested in what he was telling her. He suspected she was unaware that her lack of sophistication added immensely to her charm. He would have wagered she hadn’t been introduced to society and was probably unfamiliar with the world of nobility.

  Miss Josephine Chambers vastly intrigued Win. After twenty-four years as an elite gentleman among the gentry, he was weary of aristocratic ladies, to whom he felt obligated to pay homage, especially when the London Season came ‘round. London then became an enormous marriage market. The Season, as every member of the nobility knew, consisted of endless balls, debutante parties, punting on the Thames, tennis matches, and countless nights of frivolous nonsense, during which each young lady tried to outdo the others with jewels, diamond tiaras, and superb gowns, all designed to attract a titled husband. Josephine gave the impression she was unaware of young ladies who counted the number of gentleman they might charm until settling upon the one who offered the most magnificent manor house and most distinguished title. She probably didn’t know that such a goal was the aim of most gentlewomen who participated in the Season. Nor did he believe she’d ever learned the art of attempting to deceive a suitor, by batting her eyelashes and whispering perfectly rehearsed lines on warm summer nights in country house gardens amidst roses and lilacs. Apparently, she was a simple girl with simple ways.

  How delightful, thought Win. She seems so s
hy and innocent. “Josephine… I think you have a very pretty name. Where were you raised, since you aren’t from this region?”

  “I lived in Nottinghill, London, before moving here. My father was quite a well-respected architect. He designed some magnificent structures and had a world-wide reputation. My parents were on their way to New York City when they were lost on the Titanic. He was to meet with a gentleman regarding a plan to construct a large building there. Both Mother and Father died after the ship collided with the iceberg. Needless to say, my life changed enormously following their deaths."

  "I imagine so,” Win exclaimed. “What a disastrous tragedy. That wasn’t such a terribly long time ago. When did the ship go down? Wasn’t it April of 1912? That was only a bit over two years ago! I'm so sorry to hear of the wretched loss you sustained.” He did feel true sadness upon hearing that an enormous catastrophe had happened to her at such a young age.

  "Thank you, Win. That’s very charitable of you. I appreciate your kind words. I was devastated, of course. To be honest, if such a horrid thing had to be, I’m grateful they perished together. They loved each other so dearly. I cannot imagine one of them having to continue living without the other."

  “Have you brothers or sisters?" Win asked.

  "Yes, one brother. His name is Andrew. He’s just graduated Oxford and will be a barrister. I have no doubt he'll do very well. He has found employment in London. I came to live with my Uncle Roderick after my parents’ death. I stayed in the City and continued my studies with my governess until our house was sold. It's awfully different, living in the country, but I do like it. However, it still seems quite new.” She was silent for a moment. “So, Win, do you spent a lot of your time in the country, or do you find yourself bored here?"

  "I spend a fair amount of time here. I'm the eldest son, so I’m expected to take over the reins at Winthrop Manor someday. There's a lot to learn about overseeing such a large holding. Nevertheless, I do enjoy a trip to London on occasion. My family owns a townhouse in Mayfair. I find that a few days there is enough. I actually prefer the countryside. I'm not terribly taken with City life. I've learned most London ladies in your age range are seeking a wealthy husband with a title.”

  “Oh, goodness. I can’t imagine.” She frowned. "I do think your home sounds lovely. Nevertheless, I wouldn’t marry you just because you live in an old, historic mansion.”

  Win roared with laughter. "Josephine, that was a delightful comment. I don’t recall mentioning marriage, but your outlook is superb. It does appear that London graced you with sound sense and poise."

  She blushed more profoundly. "If I have sense and poise, it's due to my upbringing. My parents were keen on keeping a proper balance in one’s life. Money was not their primary interest."

  “Have you participated in a London Season?” he asked.

  "Oh, no. That isn’t for me. I have no title, and, to be honest, I find the entire affaire rather ridiculous. I think it's a silly bit of nonsense," she answered. “London becomes a place I don’t care to be during The Season. You described it perfectly. All the girls are seeking wealthy husbands. What possible difference can such a thing make? Love is all that should matter, as far as I'm concerned." She paused, clearly in deep thought. Before Win had a chance to respond, she continued. "At any rate, eighteen years is far too young to set up housekeeping and begin to produce children."

  “You truly are quite naive, Josephine." He chuckled. “Love has very little to do with marriages among the aristocracy. I’m twenty-four years now, and my parents are beginning to badger me about finding a bride, but that’s a subject upon which I intend to hold firm. I'd prefer a marriage like that which your parents appear to have enjoyed."

  “Yes, they had a wonderful marriage. I agree with your outlook," she responded. “After all, living day in and day out with another person would surely be terrible if no love existed between them.”

  “I shall hold out as long as possible, but sooner or later, there will be no more arguing about the matter,” answered Win. “I’ll have to satisfy their wishes and take responsibility as heir to Winthrop Manor. I can only hope that between now and then, I’ll be fortunate enough to find a special young lady to be by my side forever. Most of the women I’ve met during past Seasons have been so impressed with family names. It's nearly unbearable to spend much time with them. As I said, they’re primarily seeking a wealthy, titled gentleman. The thought of spending my life with that sort of creature is appalling. However, as the eldest son, it will be my duty to carry on the family name."

  What an extremely attractive young lady, Win thought. She was absolutely adorable. Still, in addition to the myriad of other reasons she would never be considered suitable for him, she appeared to be decidedly too young. His parents would never approve of her. Not because of her age, but because she was not of the aristocracy.

  "Elisabeth, my sister, will definitely be doing the Season next year. Though I want her to have a splendid time, I don’t wish to see her become engaged at an early age. I’ve never spoken with her about my feelings, but I intend to. She generally sets great store by my opinions.”

  Josephine smiled. “I’m sure the Season is a most enjoyable time for some young ladies. However, as I said, I wasn’t brought up to participate in such fanciful activities. To be sincere, the entire ordeal sounds perfectly wretched to me,” she said, frowning.

  Win found her honesty refreshing. There was absolutely not one iota of artifice associated with her. This was exactly the sort of lady he hoped to meet one day. Yet, he had to keep reminding himself that she definitely would never meet the standards his parents had set long ago.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The next day, Win arrived again at the Chambers’ cottage. This time, there was nobody outside, so he tethered Black Orchid to the post and walked over to the white picketed fence. Then he opened the gate and walked to the front door. He rapped, using the ornamental brass knocker, and the door immediately opened.

  “Good day,” greeted Win. “My name is Lord Winterdale—Win—and I met your niece here outside your cottage yesterday.”

  Josephine’s uncle nodded. “Yes, Josephine told me about you. It’s a pleasure to meet you, my lord.”

  “Please, call me Win. May I come in?” Win craned his neck to see over the older man’s shoulder. “Is Miss Josephine at home?”

  “Yes, certainly,” answered Roderick with a laugh. “I believe she’s in her bedchamber."

  “Josephine,” he called up the stairway. “We have a visitor. Lord Winterdale—er, Win is here to see you. Come downstairs and join us.”

  Josephine peeked out of the upstairs window in her room and saw Win’s horse tied to the post. Looking into the mirror, she pinched her cheeks and bit her lips to give them a little colour. After running a brush through her curls, she dabbed a bit of cologne on her wrists and behind her ears. She was dressed in a rose-coloured lawn dress with long sleeves and a collar trimmed in lace. It was certainly more stylish than that which she'd worn the previous day while gardening. She’d been sitting on a window seat, reading a Jane Austen novel. The book had caused her to dream of romance among the landed gentry. It brought to mind Lord Winterdale, when, suddenly, her uncle had announced that the gentleman himself was waiting downstairs.

  She laid her book on a small table beside the four-poster bed and made her way down the straight flight of stairs to the hallway. There stood Win, dressed in his equestrian attire, gloves and crop in his hands. Her uncle took the items from him, laying them on a chair in the foyer. Win was so astoundingly attractive that Josephine had to take a deep breath before she was able to speak. The day before, she’d been on one side of the fence, and he had been on the other. This time, they were only a few feet apart. He took her hand and kissed it. His hair was tousled, as it had been the previous day, but because she was closer to him now she was able to clearly see the deep-blue colour of his eyes, and the long, dark lashes enhancing them. Everything about him was faultless, eve
n his perfectly shaped mouth. He carried himself with pride, appearing to be one of those men who never had a wrinkle on his collar or cuff. Every young lady in the county must be mad for him, she thought.

  “I’m so pleased to see you again, Miss Josephine. I made this impetuous stop in hopes of finding you at home.”

  Josephine could feel her colour rising. “Thank you, Win. It’s lovely to see you again, too,” she answered.

  “I’ve come to invite you—and your uncle and brother, of course—to Winthrop Manor for a dinner party. I checked my calendar and believe the last Saturday evening in July would be a perfect time for you to pay a visit to Winthrop Manor. That’s the twenty-fifth. My parents were delighted to hear I’d met new neighbours, and my sister was thrilled to learn of another young lady in the vicinity. My parents think Oliver, my brother, will be happy to hear of the dinner gathering. They believe he’ll attend. Everyone was saddened to hear about the loss of your parents. I’ve taken the liberty of inviting a chum of mine from Oxford. He now lives in a quaint village known as Cloverhill, not far from Winthrop-on-Hart. He's the village physician over there. I've a suspicion Elisabeth has more than a slight interest in him. However, it wouldn't be appropriate for her to invite him to Winthrop Manor without others present. It should be a rather charming party. My family is most anxious to meet you.”

  “What do you think, Uncle? Could we attend this dinner party?” Josephine longed to say yes, but she had no idea how her uncle would feel about such a thing. Win’s invitation came as quite a surprise.

  “I don’t see any harm in going,” Uncle Roderick said. “Of course, we’ll need to take a trip to London before then—you’ll need a new gown for such an occasion—but there should be plenty of time for that.”

  “Yes…the last weekend in July allows time for such a journey. I do hope you find this satisfactory. I wish it could be scheduled earlier, but I’ll be awfully busy training for Ascot until then,” Win told them.