The Ravenscar Dynasty (51 page)

Immediately he thought of Elizabeth Wyland. A beautiful woman, a woman beyond belief. Everyone who had ever seen her agreed with him. The white, flawless skin, the long silver-gilt hair, the pale blue eyes. It was an imcomparable face, and yet hers was a frosty beauty.

The Ice Queen, he suddenly thought, and then smiled to himself. Outwardly frosty, yes, but he was certain there was an inner fire. He wanted to possess her completely, because of her awesome beauty. Yes, she was a challenge to him. The more she resisted his charms the more he wanted her. He had a need to break through
those icy barriers, take her to him, arrive at the core of the woman.

Perhaps he would one day. He would certainly try when he found the right opportunity. He just had to possess this untouchable beauty, whatever the cost.

He closed his eyes, drifted off to sleep thinking of Elizabeth Wyland.

‘Neville looks pleased with himself,' Will Hasling said in a low voice, drawing closer to Edward. ‘Perhaps he has
finally
finished his negotiations with Louis Charpentier.'

‘I hope so. They seem to have dragged on for months. I suppose it's not a bad idea to acquire the silk factories after all, and the vineyards, since the real estate involved is worth a lot. We can't lose.'

‘You still don't sound particularly excited about this deal, Ned.' Will gave him a hard stare, frowning. ‘Does something bother you about it?'

‘I don't know. Not sure, really, Will, why it nags at me so much. I feel uneasy about it, although don't say anything. I've never expressed these feelings to Neville.' Edward let out a long sigh, and finished, ‘Look, he's never made a bad deal in his life. He only ever makes good deals, and I trust him.
Absolutely
. It'll be all right, you'll see.'

‘If you say so.' Will turned, glanced around the private dining room at Deravenels.

Ever since Ned had taken over as managing director
of the company, three years ago, he gave a lunch every Wednesday, inviting different executives. Will, Neville and Johnny Watkins were always invited since they were the closest to Ned.

From across the room, Neville caught Will's eye and moved his head slightly; Will nodded in return. He touched Edward's arm. ‘I think Neville wants to talk to me. Please excuse me.'

Ned grinned. ‘Of course. I need to have a word with Oliveri anyway. I want his opinion of my wildcatter, Jarvis Merson.'

Will simply rolled his eyes, and moved across the floor towards the window, where Neville was standing talking with his brother Johnny.

Edward strolled over to Alfredo Oliveri, and said, ‘So, tell me what you think about my Texan friend, Mr Merson.'

‘I think he has a lot of knowledge, and he's very useful to us. There's a bit of bragging and that puts some people off, but basically I believe he's a good chap. Sincere.'

‘We're in agreement then, because in my judgement he's honest. And sincere, as you say. I'd like him to go out to Persia, the next time you and Aspen go. What do you think?'

‘I'm all for it,' Oliveri replied. ‘Aspen will be, too, we both like Merson. To tell you the truth, I think he's as straight as a dye, even if he does get carried away occasionally.'

‘He just likes to tell tall tales, is that it, eh?' Edward laughed as he said this, and Alfredo joined in. Then Edward said, ‘I think perhaps we should go to the table,
Oliveri. I have an appointment this afternoon. Out of the office. I can't be late.'

Alfredo nodded and the two of them walked across to the round table in the centre of the room. Today it was set for the six men who were already present: Edward Deravenel, Neville Watkins, Johnny Watkins, Will Hasling, Alfredo Oliveri and Rob Aspen.

Edward had greeted everyone as they had wandered into the dining room, a short while before, and now he said, ‘Enjoy lunch, gentlemen.'

As white wine was poured for the fish course the men began to talk amongst themselves, discussing business, the Stock Exchange, politicians and politics. After the first course of sole, lamb chops were served with mixed vegetables and roast potatoes, and after that bread-and-butter pudding for dessert.

Will, who was sitting next to Edward, murmured quietly, ‘I think Neville does have some good news about Louis Charpentier. He sort of intimated that to me earlier, but look surprised if he mentions it during lunch.'

Edward merely nodded, then said to Rob Aspen, ‘I may very well take you up on your suggestion that I come to Persia with you, the next time you go.'

‘It would be a great experience for you, and especially if you're there when we hit a gusher, as Merson calls it.'

Edward plied Aspen with many questions during the rest of the lunch, once more expressing his belief in oil, and his determination to drill in other parts of Persia. ‘I want oil for Deravenels. We must have it, Aspen. It's imperative.'

Once lunch was over, and just before the coffee was served, Neville stood up, tapped a spoon on his water glass. ‘Just a moment of your time, gentlemen, please.'

Everyone stopped talking and looked at him. Neville nodded and smiled. ‘I would like to propose a toast.' He picked up his wine glass, and went on, ‘As you all know, we have been negotiating with Louis Charpentier for some of his holdings. Everything is completed now except for one thing. However, I think we can safely drink a toast today…to Deravenels and its new acquisition in France.'

‘To Deravenels!' they said in unison, and all raised their glasses and drank.

Edward exclaimed, ‘Well done, Neville! We should now toast you, since it is you who have brought this about.' Lifting his goblet, looking around the table, Edward, smiling at them all, said, ‘To Neville Watkins.'

‘Thank you, thank you.' Looking pleased and happy, Neville sat down.

A short while after this toast Alfredo Oliveri and Rob Aspen excused themselves and left for their afternoon appointments.

Edward, finishing his coffee, looked across at Neville.

‘You mentioned that there was one last thing…to conclude. What can be left? You seem to have covered everything in the last two months.'

‘Actually, Ned, it concerns you,' Neville answered, smiling with geniality. ‘You know, I've asked you many times to come with me to Paris, and you have always found an excuse not to come and meet Louis Charpentier. But now it can no longer be put off. You have to come
with me next week, to meet Louis, and also Blanche.'

‘Who's Blanche?' Edward asked, looking slightly puzzled.

‘Why, his daughter, of course.'

Edward stared at Neville, and something appalling dawned on him. He was part of the deal. Neville must have made an arrangement with Charpentier:
Let us buy
you out, and in return Edward Deravenel is yours
. But he did not voice these thoughts, he simply sat there gaping at his cousin, speechless.

Neville, appearing just as puzzled as Edward, now said, ‘I told you last year, Ned, that Louis Charpentier would only sell his major holdings if his daughter married the buyer—'

‘But I'm not the buyer,' Edward cut in peremptorily. ‘A
company
is buying the Charpentier holdings, not
a
man. Not me!
'

‘Come now, Ned, you're splitting hairs.'

‘I don't recall you telling me any of this!' Edward exclaimed, speaking the truth. ‘You really didn't, Neville, because I would have never agreed. Tell me, did I agree to this?'

‘You didn't actually say
yes
—'

‘Right! I never uttered that word. Because I never understood what you were saying.'

‘Blanche Charpentier is a beautiful young woman, Edward, blonde and blue-eyed. She is well educated, charming, and cultured. An only child, and therefore the heiress to the entire Charpentier fortune. A vast fortune. When you meet her you will be captivated.'

‘I doubt it.'

‘I know your taste in women, Ned,' Neville said with
a light laugh. ‘She's your type. Nineteen, gorgeous, and utterly…magical. That's the only word I can use.'

Edward shook his head. ‘
No
.'

‘I made an agreement with Louis,' Neville now explained patiently, his voice firm. ‘A binding marriage contract, in fact, and the whole negotiation hangs on that contract. If you don't marry Blanche then the deal is off.'

‘I can't marry her.'

‘Ned, listen to me. Blanche is a Frenchwoman, sophisticated. She won't make a problem if you have mistresses. My God, her father has had a mistress for years. It hasn't disturbed his marriage.'

‘I just told you, I can't marry this woman.'

‘You mean you
won't
,' Neville shot back sharply, suddenly irritated with his cousin. He knew full well that Edward Deravenel couldn't be faithful to any woman. So what difference did it make if he married Blanche Charpentier? He was baffled by Edward's total stubbornness, and his indifference to the consequences, and what they involved. The deal would blow up if Edward did not fulfil the marriage contract and he knew that.

Taking a deep breath, Neville said in a most placating tone, ‘Come now, Ned, let's compromise—'

‘I can't marry her. Or any other woman.'

Neville frowned. ‘What are you trying to say…why can't you marry?'

‘Because I'm already married.'

Johnny Watkins gasped, glancing at Ned and then looking at his brother, expecting an explosion.

Neville was truly stunned, and he did not speak. He
could not speak. He had never been so shocked in his life.

Wanting to break the tension, Will took a deep breath and asked, ‘And who is the lucky lady who deigned to become your wife, Ned?'

For a moment Edward did not respond. He simply sat there, gazing blankly at the three other men in the room.

Neville, staring back at him through cold blue eyes, asked in a contained neutral voice, ‘Who
did
you marry, Ned? Do we know her?'

‘Elizabeth Wyland,' he said at last.

There was a grim silence. It was so quiet in the room a pin dropping would have sounded like thunder. None of the men spoke. The four of them just sat there, continuing to stare at each other as if dumbfounded. Even Edward was shocked; he had not anticipated this kind of reaction to his news. But then he hadn't known about those secret marital plans his cousin had made for him with Charpentier. And they
had
been secret. He hadn't been told.

Although he was further enraged, Neville managed to hold his temper in check. At last he spoke. ‘Why didn't any of us know about your marriage, Ned? And why weren't we invited to participate, to celebrate with you?'

Avoiding the first part of this question, Edward said swiftly, ‘We eloped, Neville.'

‘When was this?'

‘At the end of June.'

‘Three months ago…well, well, well.' Neville pushed a smile onto his face. ‘Congratulations, Ned,'
he said steadily, utterly in control of himself despite his rage.

Following his brother's lead, Johnny exclaimed, ‘The best of luck, Ned! You're a rascal, though, you know, keeping us in the dark.'

‘Yes, congratulations, Ned,' Will murmured, and stood up, went to shake Edward's hand.

Rising, Edward took hold of Will's hand, and a moment later he looked at Neville, his gaze intense, and very direct. ‘I suppose our deal with Charpentier is now in shreds?' He raised a brow.

‘It is.' Neville again forced a smile. ‘So be it,' he answered, ‘so be it.'

‘I'll grant you that he was cordial,' Will said, giving Edward a quick glance, ‘because he is, after all, very clever. And he can hold himself in check. But let me tell you this: despite his constraint, Neville was fuming when he left.'

Edward sat back in his office chair and returned Will Hasling's steadfast gaze, nodding his head. ‘I know all this, Will. Don't forget I grew up with him, I've been around Neville all my life. Of course he's angry…beyond that, he's in a rage, but the point is I
am
married, and there's nothing he or anyone else can do about it.'

Will sat staring at his closest friend, a man who had his total devotion and loyalty; for a moment he did not speak, and then he murmured very softly, ‘I think he is affronted, and that quite possibly he feels humiliated. Remember, he now has to go to Louis Charpentier and tell him you don't want to marry his daughter. Or that you cannot marry his daughter, because you're already married. He's going to look like a complete and utter fool. Louis will not close the deal, and Neville doesn't like not closing deals. In fact, he detests the mere idea
of it. He'll think he looks like a loser, well, actually he
is
the loser, in a certain sense. Oh God, how he hates that! It's going to rankle, and rankle a lot.'

‘Will, listen to me, Neville did bring this on himself.' Edward leaned over the desk, holding Will's eyes with his own. ‘I did not understand what he had in mind, what he was doing, that he was using me as a negotiating tool. I truly didn't. He was not merely obtuse, he was rather forgetful. He forgot to mention the word marriage. He didn't explain anything to me, I promise you.'

Will, struck by the honesty in Ned's steady blue gaze, exclaimed, ‘Listen, I believe you. And if that's the case, as you say, then Neville has misjudged you. Surely he knew he couldn't make an arranged marriage for
you
…you
of all people.'

Edward suddenly began to laugh, shaking his head. ‘Once I'd recovered from the shock of what he was saying an hour ago, I had exactly that same thought. He must have been deluding himself, having fantasies, don't you think?'

‘Delusions, fantasies, what do I know! I only know this, Ned, he's angry with you. Bloody angry right now.'

‘The anger won't last, he'll get over it, you'll see.'

Will forced a smile. ‘If you say so. I thought Johnny looked awfully queasy when he left, worried, and uneasy. You know he's caught between the two of you, he loves you both.'

‘I know that. But Johnny's a congenital worrier. Look, it'll be fine. Trust me, they will both come around, they will accept my marriage to Elizabeth.'

Pursing his lips, Will eyed Edward speculatively, then he replied slowly, ‘I was a bit suspicious of you from time
to time this summer, you know. You started to become secretive, evasive, never said where you were going. And when I asked you once about Elizabeth, you brushed the idea of her to one side, very abruptly for you. You were very dismissive of her, in fact.'

‘I had to be.'

‘Why, Ned?'

‘Because I knew that Neville and Johnny and my mother would see Elizabeth as the enemy. Because of her family's connection to the Grants over the years. Her father
did
do business with Henry Grant, and the Wyland merchant bank did make money with them, at one point.' Ned shrugged. ‘I just knew she wouldn't be acceptable. Even though I also knew from her brother that they haven't done business with the Grants for years. They don't see them anymore, and haven't for some time.'

‘You could have told
me
, Ned. I'm your dearest and most trusted friend, am I not?'

‘Yes, you are, and you always will be. I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to be cast in the role of accomplice. I didn't want Neville castigating you, attempting to fix the blame to you in any way, or chastising you.'

‘I understand, and I suppose I should say thank you for protecting me. But you could have told me.'

‘Don't be hurt.'

‘I'm not.' There was a moment's pause, and then Will said slowly, ‘You wanted her, that's it, isn't it? You lusted after her, and she spurned you, and because you had to have her you married her. Am I right?'

‘Absolutely correct, old chap. She kept saying no, no,
no. She wouldn't let me get near her, fended me off all the time. One afternoon, when I was losing my patience, and pressing her hard to succumb…to my charms, shall we say, she became
indignant
. She said that she might not be good enough to be my wife, but that she was far too good to be my mistress.'

‘Anne Boleyn,' Will said, grinning, laughter in his eyes.

‘What?'

‘Anne Boleyn said that to Henry VIII, didn't you learn that at school?'

‘I must have forgotten. Anyway, I thought about those words afterwards, when I was alone, and I sort of…' Ned paused, and let out a burst of unexpected laughter. ‘I agreed with her, Will!'

‘And you got married in secret and bedded her
immediately
, I've no doubt of that.'

Ned smiled, that warm, languid, indulgent smile that women loved, and nodded his head. ‘Yes. We were married at her aunt's house in Gloucestershire in the private chapel, married by the family priest, with her mother and her aunt in attendance.'

‘I wish I'd been there, standing up for you, Edward, I really do.'

‘I do, too, but I didn't want you involved.'

‘If you don't mind me asking, has it been worth it? Has she…lived up to your expectations?'

‘Beyond my expectations.'

‘You've been going to the country a lot lately. To Cirencester, I presume.'

‘That's right. She is still staying with her aunt at Avingdon Chase. For the moment. She understands all
of the ramifications…she's very bright, and she is happy to comply with my wishes.' Ned now rose, walked over to the window, stared out for a moment, then swung around. ‘It's not only lust, Will. We are in love with each other. Truly in love.'

Will smiled at him but remained silent, ruminating on everything, feeling somewhat apprehensive despite Ned's obvious good humour, his equanimity. ‘I'm glad of that,' he said at last. ‘I'm really genuinely happy for you. Being married to the right woman is so important, I've come to understand that. My Kathleen is wonderful.'

‘I do believe I can say the same thing about Elizabeth,' Ned murmured, strolling back to the desk.

Watching him, Will couldn't help thinking how extraordinary Edward Deravenel looked today. Nobody like him that
I
know of, Will thought, and tried to crush the persistent idea that trouble was brewing for them. Edward appeared impossibly nonchalant, as if he didn't have a care in the world, appeared to be happy, full of bonhomie, good will and wellbeing. Didn't he understand that he had shown his independence, taken his fate into his own hands, and in doing so had deeply offended his cousin who credited
himself
with Ned's success as the head of Deravenels. We haven't heard the end of this, Will thought. Neville won't let us.

‘Well, enough of this,' Will murmured. ‘You said you wanted me to go somewhere with you, that you had a surprise for me.'

‘That's true.' Edward moved towards the door of his office.

Will strode after him, exclaiming, ‘Then lead the way, and tell me where we're going.'

‘I can't do that, Will. If I did, it wouldn't be a surprise.'

It was a glorious September afternoon, and the two young men walked up the Strand, through Leicester Square and on to Piccadilly Circus. It was a busy afternoon, with traffic jamming Piccadilly: carriages and hansom cabs, horse-drawn buses and several of the new electric motorcars from America, the invention of a Mr Henry Ford. And floods of pedestrians as well, jostling each other on the pavements.

Spotting one of the electric cars, Edward grabbed Will's arm, and exclaimed, ‘Look at the new invention, the horseless carriages.'

‘They
are
quite remarkable,' Will agreed. ‘I remember my aunt telling me that she first saw one in 1904. It belonged to the Duchess of Marlborough…you know, the American heiress Consuelo Vanderbilt. Her mother Alva sent it to her from New York. Marlborough married her for the money, you know. No other reason.'

‘He needed the money, Will, to keep Blenheim going, and she's not bad looking, quite aside from all that money. And who looks at the mantelpiece…if you know what I mean.'

Will grinned, and the two of them walked on in silence. Unexpectedly, Ned said confidingly, ‘You know what, Will Hasling, I am going to order us both electric motorcars, from Mr Rolls and Mr Royce, who are starting to make them in some quantity at last.'

‘My God, Ned, they cost a fortune! You can't do that.'

‘Of course I can…and I shall be paying with my own funds, so you don't have to worry about Deravenels.'

‘I certainly won't in that case, and thank you.'

Fifteen minutes later, as they walked across Berkeley Square, Will Hasling suddenly understood where Ned was leading him. To the house he had purchased almost a year ago. It was a beautiful house, tall and stately, overlooking the leafy square right in the heart of Mayfair, Edward Deravenel's favourite part of London.

‘It's finished, isn't it?' Will said as they mounted the front steps together.

‘Indeed it is, and I think you're going to be surprised by what it's become, what I've made out of it.' As he spoke Ned inserted the key in the lock and opened the heavy mahogany door, and stepped into the entrance foyer. ‘No staff, as yet, Will, other than a caretaker who occupies the basement. I haven't actually moved in yet.'

‘And when will you do that?' Will glanced around, already impressed with what he was seeing.

‘Next week. Now that my secret marriage is out in the open, I shall bring Elizabeth back to London in a few days. We shall start our married life here.'

‘And what's going to happen to your house in South Audley Street?'

Edward made a small grimace. ‘I will have to sell it, I'm afraid. I've always loved that house…Lily's house I call it, as you well know. But I've no use for two houses, and Lily's house is a bit too small for me. It always has been really, and now that I'm married it does
have to go. I did need this house for the space, so I'm putting the South Audley house on the market next week.'

‘No, no, don't do that! I have the perfect buyer for you,' Will told him, sounding excited.

‘And who's that, might I ask?' Edward's brow lifted.

‘An old acquaintance of mine, Bryan Shaw. He's a wine merchant, in quite a big way, actually. An importer. He and his wife Jane have been looking for a Mayfair residence, and money is no object.'

‘I must meet with them as soon as possible.'

‘I'll arrange it,' Will answered, ‘and now, give me a tour of your new home, which is why you brought me here in the first place.'