Vintage Love (149 page)

He behaved as if he had not heard her, saying, “Vera is looking after all the funeral arrangements. It will be a private affair. You will not be expected to attend.”

“Thank you,” she said, in a near whisper.

Bart’s eyes were cold. “I wanted to bring this news to you myself.”

“Yes, Bart.”

“I will go now.”

“Yes, Bart,” she repeated, almost under her breath. She was still standing there in a numbed state as he let himself out and went back to his carriage.

She could not deny that she was relieved to know that James was dead and that he would not blackmail them any longer. But to mar any good feelings about that, there was her certain knowledge that Bart had committed a murder to save them. For it was surely the next thing to murder to strip this ailing man of the medicine that kept him alive.

Bart had done this, counting on James having another heart seizure sometime before morning. And it had worked out that way. She could picture the dead man’s last tormented convulsions as he groped about desperately trying to locate the precious pellets which might save him. Villain that he was, she could not have wished him that sort of end.

Most horrifying of all, it meant that Bart had reverted to the violent methods of his beginnings. Somewhere under the cloak of the conservative business man of today there was still the criminal who had preyed on innocents like Davy Brown on the docks. And Bart had proven he felt guilt for his wrong-doing when he refused to give the authorities any hint of his attacker, even though he’d known it was Davy.

She was so upset she hired a carriage to take her to Tenby Hall. All during the long drive she sat not seeing or hearing anything, lost in her thoughts. A drizzle of rain was starting as she left the carriage and made her way to the door of the mansion.

She told the servant who answered that she wished to see Mr. Brown. She was shown into a small reception room and left there to wait his arrival. When he came into the room he frowned, “How dare they leave you out here!”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said rising.

“It matters to me how my friends are treated,” he said. “And you are much more than an ordinary friend.”

“Davy, let us go somewhere so we can talk privately without being overheard!”

The big man stared at her. “You’re in a state!”

“Somewhat!”

Come along,” he said, taking her arm. “We’ll go to my study. That is quite safe.”

When they were in the study he seated her and insisted she have a brandy before saying anything. Then he stood to listen to her story. “What is it brought you all the way across London?”

She sipped the burning brandy and summoned all her courage. Then she began a recital of James Kerr returning and all that had happened, including his death as a result of being denied the pellets.

Davy Brown rubbed his chin. “So Bart went back to his old criminal tricks.”

“You might say that.”

“Mind you, this James was in bad shape. The time would come when those pellets wouldn’t help. That time could have been last night.”

Distressed, she said, “But Bart had taken them.”

“So he hadn’t even the opportunity to see if they would benefit him. And at the same time he’d be in a worse panic knowing he couldn’t find the pellets. That could increase the severity of his attack and make it more certain he’d die.”

“Bart left little to chance.”

“So we could say Bart Woods has committed another murder.”

“Please!” she begged, tears in her eys.

Davy stared at her. “What puzzles me is why he came directly to you and confessed? How could he trust you?”

She took a deep breath. “Davy, there’s something you should know if you haven’t guessed it before.”

“What?”

“Bart and I are lovers. We have been for years.”

The big man sighed. “I did sort of suspect that. I thought there must be someone, and that is why you refused to marry me. I didn’t know who it would be. So it is Bart!”

“Yes,” she said, wryly. “Fate played a strange trick on me when it put me in the arms of the man responsible for my losing you.”

“How long have you loved him?”

“Ever since Mark Gregg had his stroke.” She paused. “You may as well know it all. What James Kerr was threatening to expose. My daughter, Anne, is not Mark’s daughter, but Bart’s. I lied to save my reputation and give Anne a name. I also meant to protect Bart’s marriage, even though it was no longer a true marriage. They were merely living under the same roof.”

“That is a shocker,” Davy admitted as he sank down into a swivel chair by his desk and thought about it for a moment. Then he said, “This Donald, Bart’s son, didn’t you say he wanted to marry your Anne?”

“Yes,” she said unhappily. “That is why Bart and I have been trying to break the romance!”

He said, “And that is why you have been such a matchmaker between my daughter and Donald Woods?”

“Not really! I honestly think Julia and Donald are ideally suited to each other.”

“Under the circumstances, you would,” the big man said grimly.

“Davy! You must hate me!”

“Why?”

“For holding back the truth and not telling you everything. I actually told Julia most of it. So she knows.”

Davy Brown’s handsome face showed a bemused look. “It seems to me I’m being twisted and turned at will by the women folk around me. I’m not sure that I like it!”

“Don’t blame Julia for anything!”

“Life was more simple in Australia,” the big man said looking at her sadly. “But I couldn’t be satisfied until I had returned to London and to you.”

“Now you’re sorry!”

He got up, and with his hands clasped behind his back and his head bent he began to pace slowly back and forth. “My greatest concern is for Julia. She is dearer to me than anything else.”

“I understand.”

He shot her a glance.” And yet you would be willing to see me let her marry the son of a murderer.”

“Bart is not exactly that. And in any case Donald is in no way to blame for his father’s behavior.”

“His father is your lover; naturally it is easier for you to forgive him than it is for me.”

She sighed. “Bart and I have talked about it many times. If the worst comes to the worst, we will bring the two young people together with us and tell them the truth.”

“They’ll surely hate you.”

“I know,” she said unhappily.

“And with reason.”

“I’ll grant you that. I won’t deny it,” she said. “I came to you because we were once in love. My first love.”

“And mine,” the big man said.

“I automatically thought of you,” she said. “I’m sorry. It would have been better if I hadn’t come here.”

“Not at all,” he said, going to her and placing one of his large hands on her shoulder. “Just give me time for the shock of all this to wear off.”

She looked up at him. “I cannot expect you to think of me pleasantly again.”

“I think of you pleasantly at this moment,” he said. “Both of us have gone through a lot. There is nothing to gain by our holding grudges against each other.”

Becky rose. “I should go now.”

“No. You will stay here for a little.” It was a command.

“I have burdened you with my troubles,” she said. “I had no right to.”

His arm was around her. “Your troubles will always be mine. I have a feeling for you which will never change.”

“Not even when you know I’m Bart’s mistress?”

“I can even forgive that,” he said. “Just give me time.”

On the third evening of Becky’s stay at Tenby Hall Donald arrived. He had heard from her housekeeper that she was there and so was not surprised. Julia and he embraced like the best of friends. This did not go unnoticed as Davy gave Becky a wise look. They were all gathered in the living room for drinks before dinner.

She quietly asked Donald, “Did the funeral go well?”

Donald nodded. “Yes. It was private. I do not think any tears were shed except by my mother. And she’s already promising to try and reach him wherever he is.”

“So it is over,” she said.

“Yes,” Donald said. “And I’m glad with everything else coming up. Father seems very relieved. And I want him to be at his best when we put forward our proposition to him.”

“That probably would be wise,” Davy Brown agreed. “At that he may oppose.”

Donald said, “Becky and I can outvote him. He hasn’t a chance.”

They soon went on to the great dining room, where servants in formal wear looked after their needs. It was another of the sumptous meals for which Tenby Hall had become famous. There had been appetizers of oysters and soups and pheasant was the main course.

She and Davy strolled back to the living room. She sat watching him as he went through the ritual of unwrapping and lighting a fine cigar.

After he’d taken a puff or two on it, he said, “I’m about to agree with you about Donald Woods.”

“I’m glad!”

“Perhaps I can make myself forget Bart is his father. But what about Bart?”

“He should be delighted to get a daughter-in-law like Julia.”

“My daughter!”

“What of it? He didn’t betray you to the police. He felt he deserved the whipping.”

“And I enjoyed giving it to him!”

“That was violent and brutal on your part,” she said. “He is not a young man any longer, nor is he well.”

“Neither am I young,” Davy said, taking his cigar from his mouth.

“You are far more active than he is, and you know it,” she said.

“If he’s in such poor shape how do you think he’ll stand up to you and his son taking control of the company from him?”

“I’m afraid to think about it,” she admitted.

At last the morning of the confrontation arrived!

The meeting was to be held in the board room of the Gregg & Kerr Shipbuilding Company on the third floor of the brick building overlooking the river and the shipyard to the left. It was a bright, sunny morning, and Donald and Becky entered the big room with its shining oak table and fifteen chairs.

Bart Woods was already seated at the head of the table. His head was in his hand as he studied a number of documents spread in front of him. When they came in, he lifted his head to greet them.

“Where are the others?” he asked.

Donald held a large file of papers under his arm. He told his father. “The lawyers for both sides and the president of the steel company are all on the way here.”

“They should be on time. I dislike tardiness,” Bart said sternly.

“Yes, father,” Donald said. And pulling a chair out for her part way down the table, he suggested, “This might be a good place for you to sit.”

“Thank you,” she said with a tremulous smile and sat in the chair.

Bart glared at her, “I can’t imagine why you felt you must be here, Rebecca.”

She said, “I do have considerable stock in the company, Bart.”

“Agreed,” Bart said. He looked strained. He had not come to visit her since the death of James. That report the morning afterwards had marked the last time he’d set foot in her house.

Donald, seated on the right of his father, spoke up, “I think it is proper for Mrs. Gregg to protect her large shares in the company.”

Bart eyed him with disdain. “How formal you’ve become, son? There are only we three here. Surely you might call her Rebecca or even Becky. I know you do that often.”

His son blushed furiously. “I’m trying to preserve the spirit of the occasion, father. We are not here as family or individuals, but as officers of the company board. Being formal helps maintain that kind of atmosphere.”

“I see,” his father said dryly. “Having risen to this position from the streets, I do not have your suave manner of conducting these business matters.”

Before Donald could make a reply, the others came filing into the room: Mr. Wilowby, attorney for the firm, and his young assistant, Mr. Sneck. Then there was the lawyer for the steel company, an elderly, bald man named Stockford, and he had his assiciate, a Mr. Yardley, to back him up. The last man to slowly enter the board room was Davy Brown. He bowed to Becky and nodded to the others.

Donald, on his feet, said, “If you would please sit at the end of the table opposite my father in the chairman’s seat.”

Davy Brown sat in the designated chair. At the same time Bart Woods raised his eyes to meet his. It was a tense moment. Then Davy nodded slightly to Bart, and Bart returned the nod. The lawyers for Davy sat on his right and left. And the legal people for the company sat at the head of the table near Bart.

Bart glared about him. “I move we begin the meeting.”

Donald read the minutes of the previous meeting, and they were approved. Then various routine matters were brought up. After these were cleared away, Donald rose with some uneasiness and addressed the group.

“Gentlemen and our lady shareholder, this is both an urgent and important occasion for us. The moment has come when we can no longer put off the facing of our largest problem—loss of contracts for building ships. If we are to continue and prosper, we must expand our yards and move toward the construction of steel ships.” He sat down.

There was a tense moment, and then Bart lifted his eyes from his papers and spoke, “I think the meeting this morning is a waste of all our time, unless we wish to briefly go over what the company has done and is doing.”

There were rustlings of documents about the table and Donald, looking angry, rose again, “I say let us put aside all other business until the matter of conversion of the yards is settled!”

Becky spoke up, “I second the motion.”

The motion was passed!

Bart glared at her and then said, “As the managing director of this company for more than a quarter of a century, I would like to settle this matter for once and all. Gregg & Kerr came to true greatness under my management and with the introduction of the building of iron ships. It is my belief that we should continue with the construction of iron ships and let others go in for this new fad of steel if they like.”

Mr. Wilowby adjusted his pince-nez and cleared his throat. “Speaking for a minority share owner, I would like to ask how we can make a profit building iron ships, when fewer are being built each year and the competition for those few grows greater!”