Being Elizabeth (24 page)

‘When do you think you'll meet with the bank?' Elizabeth began, anxious to discuss the spas.

‘I'll give Ed Aspley a ring after our meeting, and set it up for tomorrow, if that's possible. But you don't have to wait for the bank's approval, Elizabeth, they'll lend you the money. You can get started on the spas today if you want. I know you're itching to do so.'

‘I can? Oh, how wonderful, Cecil! I do want to start meeting with architects and designers, and I must phone some of the top real estate agents. I came up with the idea of creating our own products, and I want to look at various laboratories, seek out the best chemists.'

‘Talk to Melanie Onslow in the hotel division, Elizabeth. You know she's an expert on products, chemists and laboratories. We put her in charge of stocking the spas which have been completed in the two American hotels. She'll be helpful.'

‘I should have thought of Melanie at once. She's done a fantastic job. I'll call her later.'

Cecil said, in a slightly lower voice, ‘I know Robert spoke to you about Francis Walsington's worries regarding terrorists. I do believe Francis is right. We must make sure all of our facilities are well protected, and we may well have to bring in an outside security company. What's your feeling?'

‘I agree with you, I've had a nervous wobble in the pit of my stomach for quite some time. Terrorists are not going away and they're getting more dangerous. Furthermore, we are the perfect targets. I notice the Spanish government is being somewhat guarded in their public statements, and last night Robin told me most of Francis's contacts say it
was
terrorists who blew up that tanker.'

‘Francis usually gets the correct information, as you well know, and I'll always go along with him. So shall I tell him to start evaluating Deravco's security first?'

‘
Absolutely
. And immediately.'

The two of them talked for another half hour. Eventually Cecil went back to his own office and Elizabeth began making phone calls to set in motion the creation of her spas.

‘W
hat did you mean, Robin, when you said to me that love won't wait?' Elizabeth sat with her elbows on the kitchen table, staring at him in the candlelight.

‘Just
that
… Love won't wait. You have to immediately grab hold of it, hang on to it, when it suddenly appears in all its glory. Yes, you really do, because it certainly has a way of disappearing on you. In fact, you could say it's ephemeral. It evaporates … just like that!' Robert snapped his thumb and finger together. ‘Blink, and you'll find it's gone.'

‘You and I certainly grabbed it, didn't we?'

‘We did, thank God!' Reaching out, he took hold of her hand, kissed her fingers. ‘I love you, Elizabeth, I always have. But then one day I
fell in love with you
, and love wouldn't wait. It had to be the same for the two of us, didn't it? Exactly then, at the same moment.'

‘It was. And I love you, Robin, you're my whole life. I hate it when you're away. June and July were positively awful, what with all your trips to Madrid and Marbella. I'm glad they're finished.'

‘For the moment, anyway,' he reminded her, and stood up.
Going around the kitchen table, Robert put his hands on her shoulders, bent over, kissed the top of her auburn head, and pulled her to her feet. He looked at her intently, his face suddenly turning serious when he said, ‘Can I inveigle you to come upstairs?'

‘You don't have to inveigle me, I shall come willingly.' Taking hold of his hand, she blew out the candles, and together they went up to her bedroom.

A bright August moon shone in the dark night sky, filled her bedroom with soft silvery light, so that everything looked smudged, slightly diffused. Robert threw a log on the remaining embers in the fireplace and turned around, took Elizabeth in his arms. He held her close to him, marvelling yet again how perfectly she fit into him. They were both tall and slender, similar in build, so much alike. Her arms went around his back; she rested her head against his chest for a moment, and stepped away, began to unbutton his cotton shirt. Leaning forward, Robert kissed her deeply on the mouth; as he felt himself growing harder he put his hands on her buttocks and brought her closer. He wanted her so badly he could hardly breathe.

Looking at him swiftly, observing the longing on his face, Elizabeth whispered, ‘Remember, love won't wait,' and began to pull off her T-shirt; then she unzipped her skirt, stepped out of it, stood in the middle of the bedroom, staring at him.

Robert took off his shirt, undressed rapidly, and strode towards her, lifted her up and carried her to the bed. ‘Love can't wait. And I
won't
,' he said against her neck.

He placed her on the bed and lay next to her. Resting on one elbow, he gazed down into her face. ‘You're beautiful, Elizabeth.' He smiled at her. ‘I've never felt this way about anyone else, you know.'

She merely smiled back, made no response, simply touched his cheek with her fingertips.

Bending over her, he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her neck, smoothed one hand across her breast. The nipple
instantly hardened, and he kissed it; a moment later his hand was moving along her thigh and settling at the core of her.

‘It's as if I've never had you before,' he said. ‘I love it, this feeling of … discovery … it's always like this with you. As if it's the first time we're making love.'

‘I know,' she murmured, and closed her eyes, let him do what he wanted. She felt herself growing warmer, the heat rising up from between her legs to flood her belly. She savoured this feeling he induced in her, of melting under his hands, growing hot and excited at the same time. Losing herself in him filled her with joy. Thinking only of him, of nothing but this: their sexual bonding was all that mattered to her at this moment.

He moved on top of her, slid into her, lifted her to him, held her tightly in his arms. Her legs and arms went around him, felt like a velvet vice, and he gasped with delight and pleasure as he moved. In a strangled voice he muttered, ‘I can't wait, Elizabeth, I can't wait.'

She pulled his head closer to hers, found his mouth, and their tongues entwined as their bodies entwined and they moved together like one being. They came together, cresting on waves of intense feeling.

Sated and blissful, they remained in the same position for a long time, until Robert moved, looked into her dark eyes which were brimming with love for him. ‘It
was
good, wasn't it? Good sex, yes?'

‘The best sex. We're getting better at it, Robin.'

‘We need to do a lot more practising though.'

She smiled, loving him so much. ‘You won't ever stop doing this to me, will you, Robin?'

‘Wild elephants couldn't stop me,' he murmured, laughter echoing in his voice.

They sat in front of the fire in her bedroom, wrapped in their robes and drinking the bottle of chilled champagne Robert had brought up from the kitchen.

Leaning back, sipping the sparkling wine. Elizabeth stared into the fire for a moment or two, before turning to Robert, asking, ‘What do you think will happen with the French conglomerate? What I mean is, will François de Burgh run Dauphin? Or will the top executives remain in charge as they were under his father?'

‘I don't know. He's sort of young, wouldn't you say.' Robert grinned. ‘Whoops. Sorry about that! Wrong person to say it to, eh?' He shook his head. ‘Everybody's in shock in the company. Well, that's what Francis Walsington says. It stands to reason, Elizabeth. Who expected Henri de Burgh to get thrown by his horse in a hunting accident in the woods at Versailles?'

‘And trampled on the head by the horse, no less!'

‘He was quite an exceptional equestrian apparently. Sheer bad luck.'

‘You never know what life's going to toss at you, Robin. We're both aware of that, aren't we?'

‘Funny, Ambrose said almost the same thing to me just the other day … To think that we lost all of our brothers one after the other … it just beggars belief. I don't suppose we'll ever really get over it … Ambrose and Merry feel the same way I do.'

‘There's no way to make a bargain with Death,' Elizabeth said. ‘When It wants you, It takes you.'

Robert said, ‘I spoke to Amy the other day. About the divorce, Elizabeth.'

‘Oh,' was all she could say. Coming out of the blue, his words had surprised her.

‘She wants me to go down to see her in Cirencester some time next month.'

‘So you're going, are you?'

‘I have to. I have to disentangle myself, to quote you quoting Grace Rose.'

‘I suppose you will –' Elizabeth broke off, cocked her head on one side, listening. ‘I think your mobile phone is ringing. Yes, it is, Robin. But where is it?'

He jumped up, went in search of his trousers, found the mobile in his pocket, spoke into it. ‘Hello?' he said, and listened. ‘Oh, it's you, Ambrose. Yes, everything's fine. Why are you phoning at this hour?' He listened again, moving closer to the window, for better clarity. ‘No, there won't be any problem, I'm sure of that.' He looked across at Elizabeth, asked, ‘Do you mind if Ambrose comes to lunch tomorrow? He has to be in Harrogate this weekend.'

‘I'd love it,' she exclaimed.

‘She'd love it, Ambrose, and so would I. See you when you get here.'

The Dunleys had to be the best-looking family in England, Elizabeth decided as she walked along the beach at Ravenscar with Robert and his older brother.

Ambrose was a good-looking man, if not quite as startlingly handsome as Robin, and their sisters Miranda and Catherine were unusually beautiful, as eye-catching as movie stars, in fact. They were all dark-haired and had brown or hazel eyes, except for Merry. Hers were as vividly blue as cornflowers. Their brothers, now dead, had been of the same ilk. Gorgeous was the only word to describe them.

Funny about the Dunleys. Their grandfather Edmund had worked for her grandfather Henry Turner, and his son John, their father, had been in the employ of Harry Turner. Her father had always praised John Dunley to the hilt, but, like his father before him, John had subsequently fallen into disfavour.

It had been her half-sister Mary who had struck the final unjust blow against John Dunley and banished him from Deravenels forever. John had not deserved the treatment he received, and neither had
his
father before him. Injustices had been inflicted upon them both. Now she was making amends. She was raising up the Dunleys, bringing them back to prominence and power at Deravenels once again.

Robert shared her power at the head of the company, and his sister was her executive assistant, whilst Ambrose was now totally in charge of the Marbella Project. Once again he was fully employed by the conglomerate in a position of importance. In several weeks his wife would come to work at Deravenels, as her second assistant, and Anne would be put in charge of the Elizabeth Turner Spas, her own company.

The two brothers were in deep conversation as they walked along the beach, but Elizabeth was only half listening. She was enjoying her own thoughts, laughing to herself. She knew full well about the endless gossip within Deravenels, how certain executives were constantly ranting and raving about the return of the Dunleys. In particular, John Norfell was vociferous in his condemnation of them, and therefore, indirectly of her. Robert had always been suspicious of him, and rightly so.
She
now had him in her sights.

Elizabeth stole a surreptitious look at Robert, the man she had fallen so deeply in love with.
Her man
. He looked wonderful this morning in a black turtleneck sweater, a tan-and-burgundy tweed jacket – old, but all the nicer because of that – beige slacks, and with a burgundy cashmere scarf wrapped around his neck. Ambrose was similarly dressed in a sweater, tweed jacket and blue jeans. Although it was late August, it was still cool here at Ravenscar despite the sunshine. A wind came off the North Sea, as usual, chilling the air.

‘Don't you agree?' Robert said, turning to her.

‘Oh, sorry. I was miles away. I missed that,' Elizabeth answered. ‘What did you say?'

‘That Tony Blair has something –' He lifted his hands in one of his typical gestures. ‘I suppose I would characterize it as something rather special.'

‘I agree. He's got charisma, Robin. Tons of it, and I admire his style. Mind you, I always liked John Major. He's one of the greatest charmers I've ever met.'

‘I second that, Elizabeth,' Ambrose remarked, glancing at her, smiling warmly. ‘He was, unfortunately, grossly underestimated. Good-looking, clever, charming, personable, but the public somehow didn't quite get it, or get him. Pity, really.'

‘I suppose you click with the camera or you don't,' Elizabeth said. ‘He didn't always come across on television, certainly not as well as he performed in person.' Now slipping her arm through Robert's she said, ‘Have you discussed the French conglomerate with Ambrose?'

‘Yes, he has,' Ambrose interjected before Robert could answer. ‘I think that François de Burgh will be trained to step into his father's shoes, to run the show. He was working there anyway, as was that wife of his. Frankly, I think we'll see them totally in control and in no time at all.'

‘Is François de Burgh that clever? That skilled a businessman?' Elizabeth asked. She threw Ambrose a sceptical look.

‘Walsington believes he's shrewd, and much more experienced than we think. He's also got an exceptionally clever mother who's going to make sure absolute power at Dauphin rests in the hands of her eldest son and not the hired help. She's going to be in there, overseeing things. So I understand from Francis.'

‘And what about my erstwhile cousin Marie Stewart de Burgh? Do you think she'll be troublesome to
us
?'

‘I'm not sure. But hazarding a guess, I would say that she will be far too busy helping her husband run his company to be casting an eye on Deravenels.'