It was time for Captain Stewart to go. Although not fully recovered, the doctors felt that being home would help speed it along. He had come a long way from when he first arrived. He had gained back most of his strength and he looked fit in his new uniform. Most of the swelling and bruising on his face and body had disappeared. There were some scars on the left side of his face but they were not disfiguring. One of the nurse actually joked that it made him look German, a dueling scar, and mysterious. Each day he went on walks with one of the nurses. Each day the walks got longer as he got stronger. By his stay's end, the nurses would fight over who got the chance to go with him. He still wasn't 100%. He got headaches, some very severe, and if he turned quickly, he got dizzy. He also experienced some memory loss but it was slowly coming back. What concerned him were the nightmares. It was a different one every night and every night, he woke, drenched in sweat and in a panic.
Father and James had visited on numerous occasions. They always brought good news with them and Charles was able to keep up with the latest from Stanhope. They also were able to keep those at Stanhope updated about him. Patricia had come with James once. It was good she did because she was expecting the worse. When she did see him, she was surprised to see how well he looked. She passed the news on to the ladies which carried more weight with them than Father's words did.
Father arrived right on time. Clark had the car shining, looking bright and new. Charles only had one small bag as his worldly possessions he had at the front were all destroyed in the blast. He thanked the doctors and the nurses. To one nurse, Charles took her aside. "Miss Ames, I want to thank you personally. It was you who was there when I returned to this world and it was you I first saw when I found I could see. Thank you for being such a lovely vision. If you ever need anything, you contact me. Words can not describe how grateful I am."
Father and Charles rode towards Stanhope. Even though they got an early start, they would not to be home until dark. Father had changed or at least to Charles he had. He seemed more eager to talk, more open. What Charles didn't know was how much the news of his wounding took from his father. The blow almost was the death of him.
Father updated him on the latest war news. The day after his wounding, the Germans launched a massive offensive aimed on driving the BEF into the sea. A second offensive came close to capturing Paris before the Americans finally put troops into the fight. They stopped the Huns at some place called Chateau Thierry. It seemed the tide was beginning to turn in the Allies' favor. Listening to his father made Charles long to return to the front, to be there at the finish. To have the pleasure to be in on the kill.
Charles fell asleep as the ride continued. As he slept, he dreamt. He was at the bottom of a trench but he couldn't get up. No matter how he tried, it felt like an immense weight was on him. He struggled but he couldn't move it. He called out for help but no one wanted to help him.
His Lordship gently grabbed hold of Charles' arm. "Dear God," he thought, "What did my poor boy go through over there?" He woke him as they stopped for lunch. It was a small inn but passable. Clark knew about it and vouched for the meal. The owners were very nice, about Father's age. They were honored to have a Lord and his son for a meal. Clark had told them who they were feeding. They let the two of them eat in quiet and as the two men made to pay, the couple refused to accept any money. Father said it was unheard of but they insisted. Plus they were not doing it because of his Lordship. No, they were doing it because they lost their only son last month and they made a promise that any soldier who ate there would not pay for his meal. It was because of Captain Stewart. As they left, his Lordship gave Clark the money for his tab only and told him to make sure the people got it.
It was dusk as they reached Stanhope. Clark pulled the car to a stop. His Lordship said, "Are you alright, son?"
"Yes, Father."
The two men walked slowly into the main hall. There stood the entire family and staff of Stanhope. No one spoke for a moment. Buxton stepped forward. "Welcome home, sir!"
"Thank you, Buxton."
After this initial greeting, for the first time in the long history of Stanhope, rank and decorum was lost. Everyone was talking and welcoming Charles home. Of course Alice was the first to put her arms around him. James' two daughters each hugged a leg. There wasn't a dry eye in the room, man or woman. Through all the commotion and noise, three women stood back. Charles moved slowly towards one of them.
In the last month, Elizabeth Stewart, Lady Berwick, had aged noticeably. Now she seemed almost frailer than when he was home last. Seated in a chair, with tears flowing, she waited. Charles stood before her. "Mother, I have returned to you." He bent down and kissed her cheek.
"Yes, my boy, you have returned. My prayers have been answered."
Standing next to the chair, waiting patiently was Catherine. She looked radiant, dressed in a white dress trimmed in blue satin, and her smile lit up her face, despite the tears. Charles took her hands. "Catherine, I promised I'd return to you. A little worse for wear but I have returned, if you want me."
"Oh, Charles, I want you!" and with that the two embraced and kissed, in front of everyone. They ended the kiss but held the embrace. It was then, looking over Catherine's shoulder, that he noticed her. Slipping off into the shadows was Kathleen.
"All right," Mrs. Williams said clapping her hands. "Back to work. We have a meal to serve." As the staff scurried off, she turned to Charles. "It is so good to have you home, sir." With that she gave him a hug and then she hustled off to the kitchen.
The atmosphere that started in the hall continued into the dining room. Everyone enjoyed themselves and the cook had outdone herself on the meal. Catherine sat to the right of Charles and ate very little of what was served.
Concerned, Charles whispered to her, "Are you all right?"
"Yes," she whispered back. "Never happier." With that she did something out of character for her. She placed her hand on Charles' thigh. She left it there for only a brief moment before removing it but the mere action spoke volumes.
"Charles," Mother said. "Are you all right? You haven't said a word. Is Catherine taking up all your time?"
"Yes, Mother, she is," he answered causing Catherine to blush.
"Then that is fine," Mother replied. The table grew quiet and then everyone laugh, again causing Catherine to blush.
As dinner ended, the ladies and men began to go the separate ways before rejoining in the Drawing Room. Charles announced to everyone before they left. "Mother, Father, I must excuse myself as this has been a very long day for me and I'm quite tired. I believe I shall go upstairs. Good night all."
As Charles settled into his bed, he looked around his room. It had been his room for most of his life. On his wall was one of his kites and his shelves were still cluttered with reminders of his boyhood. For the first time in his adult life, he cried, completely overwhelmed by his emotions.
"Let's go, little brother," Alice said slipping her arm in his. "The doctor said that brisk walks are the best medicine and the weather is fine. No excuses." With that they were off.
"Where are we going, dear Alice?" Charles asked.
"To the village. I have to mail a letter."
"No doubt to that fiancé of ours, in America."
"Yes, it is, not that it's any business of yours!" Both laughed.
