Take Me Higher (7 page)

A coral-coloured sun was still high in the bright blue sky. The silence of the garden had eased Syrah’s pain. She walked through it and with every step seemed to gain emotional stability, so that for the first time since her father’s death she was able to relive those last hours they’d had together and how much they had meant, would always mean, to her for the rest of her life. They had, in a fashion, said their farewells and she had sent Ethan off free from worry about her. They had done the best they could for each other in life and death.

James was practically upon her when she turned around to face him.
Their many years of separation seemed to fall away and memories of what they had meant to each other as children growing up together – sweet and innocent first love, playing in the vineyards, riding and swimming together, sharing a lust for adventure and life – came flooding back. In an instant, when they gazed into each other’s eyes, something more than special, quite extraordinary, happened to them. Without thought or hesitation Syrah stepped into his outstretched arms.

Wrapping himself around her, he held her tight until they could feel the warmth of each other’s bodies. He stroked her hair and kissed her lips and brushed away the tears cascading down her cheeks. For several minutes they lost themselves in each other. The world, with all its goodness and badness, its joys and its tragedies, vanished for them.

He slipped his hands under the wide kimono sleeves of her black silk wraparound dress and caressed her arms; searched out her naked breasts and caressed them, felt the weight and the succulent roundness of them in his hands. His caress had nothing to do with lust only comfort and caring. She gave in to the sensation and the last tears she would ever shed for her father dried. Clear-eyed now, new life and passion began to flow through her once more. Being in James’s arms felt good, so very right. Only now did something more than carnal attraction come to light for them: the yearning to experience with each other sensual delight, wanting to come together in that special oneness they sensed was there for them. It was too marvellous and so for some time they just stood there in the garden enveloped in each other’s arms, healing themselves from the wounds life had inflicted upon them through the many years they had been apart.

From the terrace Ira watched the scene being played out below in the garden until Syrah and James parted, spoke briefly and she walked swiftly away from him to break into a run towards the house.

Ira was seeing a very different Syrah. There was the unmistakable look of love in her eyes and he seethed with jealousy. He had not wooed her for so many years to lose her now. He could thrash her for even allowing the possibility that he might.

Diana, in the house, passed a window by chance and spotted Ira on the terrace below, watching Syrah. She saw him crunch an empty champagne flute in his hand. It splintered. He opened his hand and the
shards fell on to the stones. There was a look of lust and anger on his face that told her everything. He wanted to be the man who held Syrah in his arms, for her to look at him as she had looked at that other man. Ira wanted Syrah! For how long had he lusted after her? Yet again she felt betrayed by Ira. Diana asked herself how she could possibly have missed the fact that the man she had loved so completely was infatuated with her best friend?

She came away from the window and leaned against a wall. It was inevitable that questions about Ira and Syrah should be running through her mind. Hadn’t she always suspected that Syrah held a sexual attraction for Ira but blanked that possibility out of her mind? She had, over the years, learned to look and not see so many things in order to stay with him.

Feeling even a residue of love for such a cad was excruciatingly painful for her. Especially since Ira claimed he still wanted her in his life. He insisted all Diana had come to terms with was what they were and were not to each other, adjust to it, and then they could live happily ever after. If there had been even the slightest chance she would give in to his wishes, this final betrayal had killed it. Her love for Ira was quite dead.

On entering the house, Syrah was immediately caught up saying goodbye to several people who were leaving and tried to put all thoughts of James and what had happened in the garden out of her mind. How at a sad time like this could such a thing as falling in love happen to her? It was a kind of madness that she should love James, feel a passion for him she had not felt for any man since Keoki’s father. She wandered among the guests while waiting for him to return to the house and find her. But he didn’t return, and it was only minutes before she was due to be in the library. She felt suddenly shattered he had not come after her. Not the right time or the right place? That had been the only reason she had run away from him. Had he been sorry for what had passed between them? His wife and children were very good reasons for him to forget what had happened in the garden.

Syrah was taking heart, feeling her spirits revive. She knew in the marrow of her bones that James felt the same way as she did. It was thrilling to realise that nothing could cool her ardour or quench the sense of love kindled in her after those few minutes, in his arms. They
were to be each other’s destiny. How? When? Why? It mattered not in the least. That, after all was how destiny worked. New life springing so quickly from the ashes of death was something Syrah could never have expected. Out of her gloom and loneliness a flicker of light and hope. She told herself there was a future, her greatest adventure had to be lived out there, and live it she would. Sadly without Ethan, but with his blessing at least.

It was a few minutes past five o’clock when Syrah approached the library door. Mr Wang and Diana, her arms crossed over Keoki’s chest, holding him close to her, gave courage with their smiles. The sort that said, Be brave. Syrah gave them back a look that reassured them she was in control of herself. She faced the confrontation calmly: Caleb, Paula, and three lawyers. Ethan’s legacy to be passed on for future generations. Before she pushed open the door she told herself, What does it matter? I can face my mistakes, come to terms with my destiny. Begin again.

Then, feeling as if she was stepping off a cliff, her courage in her hands, Syrah pushed open the door.

Chapter 5

As expected, Ethan bequeathed to his son Caleb the Richebourg-Conti winery and vineyard, the family house, all his stocks and shares. Diana had been wrong. Nothing had been left to Keoki. Syrah listened, feeling as cold as stone and filled with sadness not for herself but for her son, that Richebourg-Conti would no longer be a part of his life. Caleb and Paula had the power to see to that. She watched her brother and sister-in-law very nearly jump from their chairs and congratulate each other with hugs of joy.

Syrah wanted to remain civilised and in some way wished Caleb and Paula well as the new owners of Richebourg-Conti. But she was too numbed with grief for the loss of her father and her former home to move. The sense of what she had lost was overwhelming. She could think of nothing except that one lifestyle was over for her and another would have to begin. The prospect was too daunting to even contemplate.

She snapped back to attention when Paula turned from her husband’s embrace to face Syrah. In a voice dripping with condescension, eyes glowing with victory, she declared, ‘Now you’ve heard it, it’s official. Richebourg-Conti is ours. I see no need for you to remain here any longer. Please leave the room and
our
estate as soon as you can conveniently gather your son and your friend together.’

Caleb, walking towards the still-seated Syrah, watched her rise from her chair. Even in her grief over the loss of their father, the destruction of her lifestyle, the curtailment of any revenue from Richebourg-Conti, she remained beautiful, vibrant, formidable. Dazzlingly attractive and with a charm exactly like their father’s. Seeing so much of Ethan in her took Caleb aback. He felt something for both Syrah and Ethan then that allowed him, for a moment, to forget the years of hatred and hark
back to a time when he and his sister both adored their father and love had governed their relationship.

He addressed her then, a hint of softness in his voice. ‘If ever you’re destitute and need advice, I’ll be here for you. This house will never be the same without Ethan, I think we both know that. Paula and I will make it on our own. That said, I’d like you and Keoki to visit us every Christmas Eve and to stay for Christmas dinner. Ethan would have wanted that.’

Paula shot a withering glance at her husband. Turning to Syrah, she declared, ‘That will depend on
my
family’s plans for the Christmas festivities. I don’t think you should see it as an obligation, either on your part or ours.’

During this confrontation, yet again Syrah was made to realise just how much she’d offended her brother and sister-in-law. Their demonstration in the presence of the family lawyers clearly illustrated that. Caleb’s assumption that she would be destitute, and that destitution was the price she must pay for the privilege of making contact with her brother, was horrifying to her. Feeling poleaxed by their hatred of her, Syrah somehow managed, without uttering a word, to walk away from her brother and sister-in-law in a dignified manner. It was no mean feat considering she was inwardly screaming with pain and her mind was spinning with fear of having no family and being poverty-stricken, having to change –
how
to change – her lifestyle.

Syrah’s hand was on the door knob when Baskin Coolidge, one of the family lawyers, rose from his chair. ‘Syrah, I would advise you to remain here until I have finished reading your father’s will. There are several other bequests you should be made aware of and one of them is to your advantage.

She turned round to look at the group. She had had enough, could think of nothing but running away from the aura of hatred emanating from Caleb and Paula. Baskin Coolidge gave her a smile of encouragement and nodded: an intimation that she should return to her chair. Paula and Caleb looked non-plussed. They had it all, what was there left for Syrah? A gesture and nothing more, assumed Paula, returning to her chair.

Everyone else was seated once more before Syrah reluctantly walked backed across the room. Baskin Coolidge read out some bequests, all
monetary, to old friends, the ever faithful Mr Wang and Richebourg-Conti staff.

Paula was looking smug. There had been nothing in the monetary bequests to Syrah or Keoki. At the same time she was wary because Mr Coolidge had convinced her sister-in-law there was something worthwhile staying for.

Baskin Coolidge had been Ethan’s personal lawyer for more than twenty years. He had promised to see that his client’s wishes were adhered to. He, as well as Ethan, knew that Caleb and Paula would contest the will and before he even read out the bequest to Syrah, Baskin Coolidge was prepared to do battle for her if need be.

He cleared his throat and then proceeded to read from the papers in his hand: ‘ “And finally, to my beloved daughter Syrah Richebourg-Conti and her son Keoki Richebourg-Conti, I leave the small vineyard Ruy Blas, consisting of seven acres of vines producing an average of sixteen hundred cases of Richebourg-Ruy Blas a year.’”

‘No!’ shrieked Caleb. Paula, white with rage, shot out of her chair and snatched the document from Baskin Coolidge’s hands, wanting to read the bequest with her own eyes.

The lawyer, without uttering a word, merely searched through the stack of papers in front of him and retrieved a copy of the will. He found his place and continued, ‘ “In addition, I leave to Syrah my private wine cellar, my most precious possession.’”

It was evident that Caleb and Paula were trying to bring their rage under some semblance of control. Syrah, overwhelmed by her father’s gift to her, felt choked with emotion and sat silently fighting back tears.

‘Betrayal even in death!’ hissed Paula.

The shock and resentment of the bequest to Syrah and Keoki was evident in Syrah’s brother’s and sister-in-law’s faces; indeed their entire body language displayed hatred. Gone was their elation at Ethan’s bequest to them. Their understanding had been he would leave Syrah nothing and instead he had left her the two most precious jewels in his crown.

Caleb rose from his chair, almost exploding with anger. ‘I will contest that bequest, Baskin. My understanding has always been that my father would leave nothing to Syrah. Both Paula and I heard that from him many times. I am certain he meant to do just that but was finally too
weak-willed. Here is yet further proof that Syrah was Ethan’s favourite child. To leave her Ruy Blas and his wine cellar … madness! It is part and parcel of Richebourg-Conti and therefore belongs to Paula and myself. Baskin, that bequest is illegal. We have inherited it, not my sister.’

‘Ethan will not win this round!’ Paula put in. ‘We’ll drive Syrah away physically if need be. We demand an injunction be placed on the property so she cannot sell it. I want her banned from Ruy Blas and my father-in-law’s wine cellar. That sly old fox! He may not have left her as much as a dime in currency but a cellar valued at six million dollars and the finest vines in the Napa Valley … they’re the heart and soul of Richebourg-Conti.’

Caleb attacked Syrah again after Paula had run out of threats. ‘What Dad did was illegal but let’s leave that aside for the moment. Your lack of business acumen and ignorance of the wine trade make it impossible for you to administer such assets. You have chosen the life of a spoiled play girl whose daddy kept her lifestyle going. You’ve done it before … traded in your stake in Richebourg-Conti for the high life. You’ll do it again! You will sell off your ill-gotten legacy so you can continue your self-indulgent way of life. Why ever would Dad behave so foolishly? Vindictiveness? Disloyalty to Paula and myself? The selfish destructiveness of a dying man?’

Baskin Coolidge rose from his chair and addressed Caleb and Paula. ‘I would strongly advise you, Caleb, and your wife, to come to terms graciously with the bequest made by Ethan to Syrah and Keoki. I can assure you it is fully legal and binding. To contest it would only be costly and counter-productive for all concerned.’

Syrah listened to the ranting and raving of her brother and sister-in-law but it hardly affected her. She was too overcome with gratitude and pride that Ethan should have believed in her enough to have left her his two most precious possessions. He had once entrusted her with a secret: ‘I have three keys to my kingdom: Ruy Blas, my wine cellar and you, Syrah.’ Then as now she had not quite understood what her father meant. Nor did she understand the ramifications of Ruy Blas being split from Richebourg-Conti. She was, however, quick to deduce from Caleb and Paula’s reaction to the bequest that they did.

Three keys to a kingdom and she one of them. That was all she
could think of. After shaking hands with the lawyers Syrah walked from the room without uttering a word to either Caleb or Paula.

She heard the mahogany door shut behind her and stood with her back against it. Syrah took several deep breaths in the hope of calming herself then went looking for Keoki and Diana. She found them in the midst of several of Diana’s admirers. When the women’s eyes met, Diana skilfully managed to detach herself and Keoki from them and join her friend.

Syrah’s first words were to her son. ‘Ethan did not forget us! He’s left us his most prized possessions: the small vineyard Ruy Blas and his wine cellar. Those gifts are an overwhelming gesture of love for us and trust in me to guard them well, make of them something he would be proud of. I’m sure that’s why he did it!’

The three of them hugged each other, not so much from joy as in deep sadness.

James Whitehawk, several vineyard owners and Ira Rudman, standing near the trio, could hardly help but overhear Syrah. James’s eyes met hers and something loving passed between them. It prompted him to go to her.

‘It was impossible not to overhear that you have inherited Ruy Blas,’ James told her and then led her to the group of other vineyard owners he was with.

It was their enthusiasm over her being the new owner of Ruy Blas that finally raised her spirits. She had arrived at Richebourg-Conti without a friend and expecting nothing and was leaving with a handful of desperate wine men who were willingly, insistently, offering to help her and her small vineyard in anyway they might. She listened to them and felt such pride that Ethan had left her Ruy Blas. It was revered by wine men the world over. One of the men, Renzzo Polito, a vineyard owner from Tuscany, one of the many wine elite who had flown in from abroad, asked humbly, ‘When you are settled in, might I walk through Ethan’s wine cellar with you?’ No one until then had mentioned Ethan’s private cellar.

‘Yes, I would be happy for any of you to tour the cellar with me,’ answered Syrah, confused by the request since she had not as yet come to terms with owning it.

It was Ira Rudman, having heard the offers of help from vineyard
owners who could hardly help themselves, the respect they showed Syrah as the new owner of Ruy Blas and Ethan’s wine cellar, who spoke next. He went to stand next to her, placed a protective arm round her shoulders. He saw how vulnerable she was and grabbed his moment to capitalise on her misery and confusion.

‘Syrah, you have always made it clear that you chose a way of life other than the wine world. Ethan in his generosity has inflicted a burden on you that you are hardly qualified to handle. Give me first refusal on the vineyard and the wine cellar and I’ll see that you never regret it. We can dispose of the matter immediately and you and Keoki can return to the lifestyle you’re used to.’

The men around her fell silent. Ira’s assumption that Syrah would want to sell off her legacy as soon as possible surprised them all. Looks of disapproval was etched sharply on their faces. Their expressions and the discreet signal from James that she should immediately decline Ira’s offer could hardly be ignored.

Syrah studied the face of the millionaire property developer. She knew him so well, knew how he’d tried to cultivate a business arrangement with Ethan who’d dismissed Ira’s schemes for Richebourg-Conti out of hand. Why, she wondered, did he want Ruy Blas? How did he know these wine men? She sensed she was missing something. Of course she was. Being away from the wine world for so long she was unaware that Ira was ruthlessly buying as many of the bankrupt or nearly ruined vineyards and wineries in the Napa Valley as he could as soon as they came on the market.

The warmth of love James emanated towards her, the support of these near strangers who had loved Ethan, each of them in their own way making her feel part of the wine world, affected her strongly. She gently removed Ira’s arm from round her shoulders.

‘Now why would I do that, Ira?’

‘Because it would be a good deal for you. You have to sell to someone so it might as well be me.’

‘Why do you assume I intend to sell off Ruy Blas and Ethan’s wine cellar?’

Ira burst into laughter. Calming himself, he told her, ‘Because you’re a playgirl, not a businesswoman. Because you may have been born into the wine world but you have never worked in it nor shown any
interest in doing so. Being Ethan’s daughter will smooth your way but never make you the Master Of Wine he was. I warn you, Syrah, you are in no position to make such a rash decision: a woman without a work ethic, no knowledge of the wine business, a woman without business acumen and a father no longer here to pick up the tab for her. For friendship’s sake, I’ll leave the offer open.’

A shark nibbling at her flesh was how she saw Ira and his offer then. Fear that he might eat her alive gave her a rush of adrenaline. Raising her chin that little bit higher, she told him, ‘Hearing your offer, and the reasoning that allowed you to assume I would want to rid myself of my legacy as soon as possible, has made me come to one realisation: Ethan believed that I would do right by his gifts to Keoki and me. He understood that I would never have the heart to sell them off to anyone, least of all a property developer who would chew up his vines and spit them out in favour of some vulgar skyscraper condominium.’

With that she turned her back on him and after shaking the hands of all the men in the group surrounding her, told them, ‘Thank you for your kind offers of help.’

‘You’re leaving?’ asked James.

‘Yes, the sooner the better. We’re only staying long enough to gather our things,’ she answered him.