The Ravenscar Dynasty (30 page)

‘I know, but apart from us and Johnny, there'll be Nan and their girls, my mother and my siblings. It's going to be a family Sunday lunch with all the trimmings, and
frankly I don't think we'll have a chance to speak privately.'

‘So what's on your mind, Ned? Is something troubling you?'

‘I wouldn't say troubling, more like tantalizing.'

‘I'm not sure what you mean by that?'

‘Did your mother have foxgloves growing in her garden when you were a child?'

‘Yes she did, and there are still foxgloves growing at Compton Hall.' Will appeared puzzled when he asked, ‘But what are you getting at?'

‘She was growing
Digitalis
, and it is still growing in the flower gardens.'

Totally nonplussed, Will shook his head. ‘Come on, Ned, you're not talking sense.'

Swiftly, with precision, Ned told him all about the book from Ravenscar, and what he had discovered that morning about the common foxglove.

‘Foxglove leaves and seeds are very poisonous indeed, and I think that somehow they got into Aubrey Masters' food. Because nobody really believes he has a heart condition, now do they?'

‘No, they don't,' Will answered and paused as the waiter arrived with their flutes of champagne. Once alone, touching his glass to Edward's, Will murmured, ‘Cheers.'

Edward went on quickly, ‘I telephoned Neville this morning to discuss the matter with him but he had gone to the country for the day with Nan. So I'll mention it tomorrow before lunch, if that's at all possible.'

There was a moment of silence, and the two men exchanged looks.

At last Will asked, ‘Do you think that perhaps our side has something to do with that digitalis in Masters' food? If indeed there was some there?'

‘I don't know. Anyway, how could they have?'

‘God knows,' Will muttered, shaking his head.

Late that afternoon when he arrived home at the Charles Street house, Edward went in search of his mother. He found her in his father's den, working at the desk, and she glanced up as he opened the door and went inside.

‘Oh hello, darling,' she said, smiling at her eldest son. ‘Nice lunch with Will?'

‘Yes, very pleasant, thanks. Is this an inconvenient time to drop in on you, Mother, or do you have a few minutes to spare? You do seem to be rather busy with your accounts.'

‘No, they can wait, and I was hoping to have a chat with you anyway, Ned.'

‘About something special?' he asked as he walked over and sat down in a chair near the desk.

‘No, just things in general, nothing specific. And what about you?'

For a moment his eyes rested on the pile of bills on the desk. After a moment, he said, ‘Why did Father never have any money? After all, he was in a good position at Deravenels—assistant managing director. He must have had a decent salary.'

‘Not really. Naturally he had a salary, Ned, but it was not very much, of that I can assure you.'

‘And what about his father and grandfather? Didn't they leave him any money?'

‘They, too, were on low salaries, and the Grants cheated them of their bonuses most of the time, just as they cheated your father later on. There
was
a small annuity from his father, and now that comes to me. Somehow your father always managed to pay for the upkeep and repairs at Ravenscar, but not the staff, I'm afraid.'

‘You pay their wages, I know that, Mother, and you maintain this house. I understand all that.' Edward shook his head. ‘So unfair, isn't it? The Grants have stolen from us for donkey's years. Stolen our money, but fortunately not our spirit and our pride.'

‘True. And it's over sixty years now, to be precise,' she replied in a pithy tone.

‘I aim to rectify that,' he exclaimed. ‘I vow to you.'

‘I hope you will, not out of any avarice on my part, but because Deravenels
does
belong to the Yorkshire branch of the family, and it always has. I think it's about time there was a little justice and fair play.'

‘Neville and I will bring it about, Mother, never fear.'

Cecily leaned back in the large desk chair and looked at her son speculatively for a moment, and then she said, ‘I've been thinking about money myself. I want to buy a house for you in London, in Mayfair, close to here, and I was wondering how to do it. Actually, I was going to discuss it with Neville.'

‘But Mother—'

‘No buts, Edward. You're a grown man, you have your own private life now, and I think it's about time you had your own household, your own establishment. Don't you agree?'

‘Well, yes, I do in a way. Will has mentioned it several times, and today at lunch he told me that a “set” has come up at the Albany. He wondered if I would be interested.'

Cecily shook her head. ‘Those sets of rooms at the Albany wouldn't be correct for you, not big enough, really. No, I think a house in Mayfair is much more appropriate under the circumstances.'

‘But that would be costly, I wouldn't want you to dip into your inheritance—'

‘Sssh!' She held up her hand. ‘I had an idea about how to finance the house the other day.' Rising, she walked around the desk and continued, ‘Come with me, Ned. I want to show you something.'

It was gloomy in the cellar, especially when his mother hurried to the far end near the wine racks. All of a sudden, Ned realized she was heading in the direction of the vault, and he called out, ‘This electric light isn't very bright. Shall I go and ask Swinton for a few candles?'

‘It's not necessary, there are some here, near the vault, and a box of Swan Vestas.'

When he caught up with his mother, she was already lighting the candles, explaining, ‘I want you to open the vault, Ned, the handle is a little stiff for me. Now, let me tell you the numbers.'

Within seconds the heavy door of the large vault swung open, and Cecily stepped closer to Edward and pointed to the two dark green leather boxes, and another large
one made of dark blue leather. Along with these there was a smaller fourth box, and this was a faded red.

‘Let's carry these upstairs, where the light is much better. I'll take the red and blue boxes, they're lighter, Ned.'

‘Heavens, the green
are
heavier than I thought!' Ned went along the cellar, following his mother, saying, ‘If these are what I think they are, they must be purgatory.'

Cecily laughed, but made no comment and climbed up the stairs to the entrance hall. ‘I think we should go into the drawing room, the light is better there,' she pointed out, and led the way. Placing the two leather boxes on a chair, she indicated the sofa to Ned. ‘Put those boxes over there. Now, darling, open them please.'

He did as she asked, and gasped when he took out the first tiara. ‘Good Lord, Mother, this is extraordinary!' he cried, holding the tiara between his hands, turning it slowly, watching the light strike the diamonds, hundreds of them, catching the rainbow colours. ‘Wow, Mother, this is—
something special
.'

‘Unique,' she murmured. ‘It belonged to my mother.'

Ned put it back in the box, and took out the second tiara. Again, he exclaimed about its beauty. ‘And whose was this?'

‘Mine,' she answered. ‘My father bought it for me after my marriage, and this third tiara was left to me by Mother's best friend, Clarissa Mayes. She had no children and bequeathed it to me, along with this diamond necklace.' As she had been speaking, Cecily had shown him the tiara and necklace, and he seemed a little stunned.

‘Mother,' he said at last, ‘there's a small fortune here!'

‘I know. I've been hoarding all of these diamonds for a rainy day, and now I shall sell them, and buy you a house. What money's left over will pay for your staff.'

‘Oh, Mother, it's such a shame to sell these things, why they're family heirlooms. And what of Meg? She will need a tiara one day, after her marriage.'

‘
You
shall buy her a tiara, Ned, when the time comes. These are going to be sold so you can have your own establishment.' Her voice brooked no argument.

Edward stood on the threshold of the conservatory in Neville's Chelsea house, watching his brothers play with their cousins, Isabel and Anne.

The two little girls looked charming in their deep-blue woollen dresses, each with a large white satin bow on top of their heads. His brothers were as smartly turned out, in their knee breeches and jackets, black stockings and highly-polished black shoes.

Surrounded by all the plants, and with sunshine pouring in through the many windows, it was an idyllic scene and brought a smile to Edward's face. George seemed to be holding forth about something animatedly, and certainly he had captured Isabel's complete attention. Anne was talking earnestly to Richard, who was nodding his head and looking amused. He felt a little twist in his heart…they were so young, so vulnerable.

At the sound of footsteps in the hall, Edward swung around, and smiled at Neville as he approached.

He joined Ned in the doorway, put his hand on his cousin's shoulder, and together they stood watching the children. After a moment, Neville said softly, ‘The future,
Ned…they are the future of our two families, which are as one, and they must be protected at all cost.'

‘I agree, you're quite correct,' Ned answered quietly. ‘We must guard them at all times. The Grants will stop at nothing.'

‘Unfortunately, you're right…I'm sorry I had to leave you to take the telephone call, and just as you were arriving.' Neville glanced around. ‘I suppose Cecily and Meg have gone off somewhere with Nan.'

Ned nodded. ‘They're in the drawing room.'

‘Right. Well, shall we meander along to the library and have a glass of champagne before lunch? Will and Johnny are already there, waiting for us.'

‘Why not?'

The two men walked down the entrance hall, but just before they reached the library Edward paused, took hold of Neville's arm, so that he, too, stood still.

‘Yes, Ned, what is it?' he asked.

‘I need a word with you. Privately.'

‘Then tell me now, whilst we are alone here. Are you worried about something?'

‘No, no, just curious. About the digitalis. We know Aubrey Masters died of an overdose, but I believe it was in the food…his vegetarian dinner, to be precise.'

‘Oh.
Really
.'

‘Yes. Let me tell you about a book called
Fatal
Flowers
.' Swiftly, Edward told Neville of his discovery the day before, and the conclusion he had come to almost at once about the use of foxglove in the vegetarian mix.

‘I see what you mean,' Neville replied, nodding. ‘But you said you were curious…about what exactly?'

‘Did
we
have anything to do with Masters's ingestion of digitalis?'

Neville did not respond. He simply stood there, tall, elegant and serene, staring at Ned, his light blue eyes calm, his face without any expression and steady.

Ned, leaning against a pillar, was equally steady. He waited.

After the longest moment, Neville answered. ‘I did promise you we would avenge the murders of our fathers and brothers. I never break a promise, Cousin.'

Ned nodded his understanding, his own face wiped clean of all emotion, his eyes locked to his cousin's with intensity. And then he reached out, took hold of Neville's hand and said in a low voice, ‘
Fidelity unto eternity
,' repeating his family's motto.

Cecily Deravenel was enjoying the luncheon party at her nephew's home in Chelsea. A lovely, flowing house overlooking the Thames, it was beautifully furnished in perfect taste, made a charming setting for this Sunday lunch. And because they were family it was all the more pleasing to her. As for Will Hasling, she always thought of him as family, as another son, having known him for years, and certainly his devotion and loyalty to Edward had forever touched her heart. Yes, he
was
family, no question about that.

Her eyes roamed around the table, rested for a moment on her nephew, Johnny. Dearest Johnny, so fine of character, a man of integrity and honour, Ned's champion. Her glance settled on Neville. How alike the two
brothers were in appearance, and certainly they had the Watkins physical characteristics just as she did: dark hair, light eyes, the finest bone structure.

Neville was now the only senior male in the family, and it was on him that she must rely in many ways. Her brother Rick had managed her affairs but now that he was dead it would be his son who would advise her on these matters. Only last week she had told him Ned needed an allowance. He had agreed. She trusted Neville, she had no reason not to do so. He was, after all, her nephew, the richest magnate in England, a powerful man. That was the secret to him, of course, his power. Or rather the secret was his
love
of power. Only the other day she had pointed this out to Ned, and he had smiled and retorted, ‘Do you think I don't know that?'

They had laughed together then, and the matter was closed. She knew what her son was all about, was well aware that he had great judgement and a wisdom beyond his years. With Neville by his side, Ned would succeed in taking over Deravenels, it was just a question of time. From what Ned had said recently perhaps it would be sooner than she had anticipated. There was nothing she could do except wait. She wanted their circumstances to change, wanted to know that her children were safe, out of the reaches of the treacherous Grants.

Cecily smiled as her eyes settled on Anne, Neville's youngest daughter. She was an exquisite child, delicate in her beauty, intelligent, like quicksilver. How adoring Anne was of Richard; she trailed after him like a devoted puppy dog. Richard did not seem to mind her attention, was responsive to her and very protective.

Anne was seated opposite Cecily, and as if she had read her aunt's thoughts, she announced in her light, clear voice, ‘Richard and I are going to be married, Aunt Cecily.'

Everyone at the table looked at Anne in surprise, and with some amusement. There was a trickle of warm laughter from the adults.

Richard said, ‘But not for a long time, Mama. Not until we're grown up.'

‘But of course, Dick, we do understand that,' Cecily murmured, smiling at her youngest child.

Ned said, ‘Well done, my boy. It's a good idea to stake your claim on a lady early. Just promise me one thing.'

‘What is that?' Richard asked solemnly, his grey-blue eyes so serious.

‘Promise that I can be your best man.'

Richard beamed at his hero and nodded enthusiastically.

Not to be left out, George now asserted, in a very grand voice for a little boy, ‘And I am going to marry Isabel.'

Isabel gazed at him, turned bright pink, said nothing. But she looked pleased if also somewhat startled.

‘My goodness, all these sudden announcements,' Cecily responded, staring at George, then smiling at Isabel.

Isabel smiled back, continued to gaze at George through loving eyes, euphoria flooding her face. She looked at her mother shyly.

Neville remarked in a light amused tone, ‘All these announcements indeed, Cecily! And yet no one has asked my permission.'

Ned threw back his head and roared with laughter. ‘Nor my mother's, nor mine,' he spluttered, his spontaneous laughter infecting the rest of the table.

Richard looked slightly embarrassed, and threw an appealing glance at Edward.

His brother responded at once. ‘When you're grown up, Dickie, you can ask Uncle Neville for Anne's hand in marriage. As for me, I give you my permission now.'

‘What about
me
?' George demanded, never one to be outdone. ‘Do you give me your permission, Ned? After all, I'm older than Richard, and Isabel is older than Anne.'

Yes, and she's the heiress to a vast fortune, Ned thought, if Nan doesn't give him a son. ‘Of course you have my permission,' Ned responded at last, smiling at George. But he could not help thinking that his brother was showing some very dubious characteristics, avariciousness being one of them. He bears watching, Ned thought. He might spell trouble when he grows up.

The music washed over him in waves, lulling his senses; slowly he felt the tension easing out of his shoulders and finally he relaxed in the seat. What a blessed relief this was…letting go, escaping into this world of thrilling sounds…the music was like an enchantment, taking him to another world.

Edward was with Lily at the Bechstein Concert Hall in Wigmore Street, attending the Sunday night concert. He loved music as much as she did, and tonight was special. The featured piece was Rachmaninoff's Piano
Concerto No. 2 in C Minor, a concerto which was a favourite of theirs.

The second movement was coming to a close now, the crescendo engulfing him; he allowed himself to be engulfed, submerged himself in it gratefully. So many of the troubling thoughts running through his head fell away as he gave himself up to the music entirely.

Suddenly it was over. Everyone was on their feet, clapping and cheering. Lily leaned into him and whispered, ‘Wasn't it thrilling, darling?'

‘Stupendous,' he answered. ‘Thank you for bringing me.'

Smiling at him with total adoration, she whispered, ‘Who else but you? Now tell me that.' He just laughed. Protectively, he escorted her out of the concert hall and into the street where the carriage she had hired for the evening was waiting for them.

In order to shake off Johnny and Will, his bodyguards, wanting to be alone with Lily tonight, earlier in the day he had explained to his mother exactly where he was going, adding, ‘And my friend has hired a carriage. I'll be perfectly safe, Mother.' After a moment's thought she had agreed with him, had excused herself and left the room. She returned a moment later, and had handed him ten guineas. ‘But Mother—' he had begun, and she had waved his words away, explaining that he must now have an allowance every week, that it had been arranged with Neville. ‘Take Mrs Overton to dinner after the concert, and be the gentleman you are, Ned.'

And so they were going to the Savoy Hotel for supper, and he was excited that for once he could take Lily somewhere elegant and pay for it himself.

Once they were settled in the carriage, he told her about lunch at Neville's that day, and she laughed delightedly when he recounted the story of Anne's announcement that she and Richard were going to marry. In fact, they laughed all the way to the Savoy Hotel in the Strand, chuckling over the antics of the children.

Heads turned as the two of them walked through the hotel lobby. They made a stunning couple, he so tall and handsome, she the most beautiful of women and elegantly dressed in a chic outfit of dark royal blue. After they had been seated in the dining room overlooking the Thames, Ned ordered a whisky for himself and lemonade for Lily.

When they had settled down, Ned asked, ‘How are you feeling, darling Lily?'

‘Healthy, Ned, thank you. Please don't worry so much about the baby. It's the morning sickness which is truly the worst, but otherwise I'm well. Really and truly.'

He smiled at her, touching her cheek with a fingertip. ‘And that's how you look—absolutely well.'

As he savoured his whisky and soda, Edward told her about the tiaras his mother owned, and that she was going to send them to the jewellers to have them appraised and then sold. ‘She insists on doing this, Lily, in order to finance the purchase of a house for me. In Mayfair. I understand she's already seen one in Berkeley Square, and thinks it's ideal for me. She wants me to have my own household.'

Lily nodded, smiling and was about to tell him she had seen one for herself nearby in South Audley Street, which she was contemplating buying. But she knew it
would be inappropriate. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was trying to cling, because of the baby she was expecting.

Ned said, ‘You looked as if you were about to tell me something, Lily, but changed your mind. What was it?'

‘Nothing,' she lied, and went on, ‘Shall we look at the menu, I am a little hungry.'