The Ravenscar Dynasty by Barbara Taylor Bradford
‘Do you know who lives there at present?’ Edward asked quietly.
‘Yes, sir. But as far as I’m concerned you’ve never been near the place since you sold it. You’re as clean as a whistle, Mr Edward. I just want you to know that. Not a blemish.’
Although he had been inordinately shocked by Finnister’s words, Edward had managed to keep a neutral expression on his face, and held his temper in check as he had listened to the private investigator.
But now, as he sat alone in his office later that Monday morning, he discovered he wasn’t all that surprised. Ever since January, when he and Neville had had drinks at the Ritz, four months ago now, Edward’s suspicions had grown. His cousin Neville maintained a cordial demeanour, but underneath that pleasant façade he detected genuine anger, albeit contained. He knew within himself that their loving friendship had never recovered from the blow he had dealt Neville. His cousin’s pride had been hurt by his secret marriage to Elizabeth, no two ways about it. Will had been right…it had rankled.
Unfortunately, his wife hadn’t helped the situation. It seemed to Edward that she was always hostile to Neville and Johnny. Her father and brothers resented his cousins, perhaps because they believed that Neville, in particular, exercised a certain power over him…Even Neville had made mention of that to him in January.
But Edward knew that he had been his own man for years, and acting without Neville’s permission had been a step towards independence.
So, the wound had festered, apparently. Neville was moving against him now. Or trying to, at least. Otherwise why had he ordered Finnister to dig for dirt in his private life?
He was grateful for Amos Finnister’s loyalty to him. He had long known that the older man liked and respected him and not only because of Grace Rose.
Well, he had been warned. He must now take more care, not be quite so casual and easy going about his relationship with Jane. He had no intention of giving her up. They had become closer than ever. She was his true companion, gave him so much intellectual stimulation as well as sexual satisfaction. Intelligent, cultured, and clever, she had become his sounding board on so many different things in his life. He needed her, he could talk to her.
He had been lucky in a way. Ever since their third daughter was born in March, Elizabeth had been particularly involved with this child. She had not been so enthralled with either Bess or Mary when they were first born, perhaps because of disappointment that they weren’t boys. The new baby was named Cecily, after his mother, who had been delighted by this friendly gesture on his wife’s part.
Now his problem was how to spend time with Jane discreetly. He chastised himself when he thought of his easy-going ways, the careless visits to South Audley Street—far too close to Berkeley Square for comfort.
It came to him, almost immediately. He must purchase a new house for Jane, either in the Hyde Park area, just north of Park Lane, or in Belgravia. Both were removed from Mayfair, enough to be safe, but not so far away that it would take him too much time to get there. In the meantime, how would he manage to see her without being noticed going into her house? An impossibility.
Rising, walking across his office, he stood looking out of the window, and his eye suddenly caught sight of the corner of the Savoy Hotel courtyard. It was on the other side of the Strand, a little way up. That was it! The Savoy. A perfect place to rendezvous. Jane must take a suite there. Immediately. For the next week. He would book a room for the same period. He could then visit her quite easily without anyone being any the wiser. He would explain this to her tonight, and he knew she would agree.
Edward went back to his desk and his work. His main interest at the moment was oil. After his people struck oil in May of 1908 work had continued. They had pumped oil for a year and made money, but in 1909 he had taken the decision to sell the Deravenel fields to Anglo-Persian Oil, a large company. Even though Deravenels no longer had a stake in Persia he hoped they would start drilling there again soon. Oliveri and Aspen were currently back in that country, negotiating with the Shah. Recently he had backed Jarvis Merson and his new team, who were at this moment drilling in Texas. He was keeping his fingers crossed they hit a gusher.
Edward knew there was a huge future in oil, especially for British battleships. Six years ago, in 1906, the first modern battleship the HMS Dreadnought had been launched. Churchill, the politician he trusted the most, was First Lord of the Admiralty, and he was constantly endeavouring to get his Naval estimates through Parliament, wanting to build more of these modern battleships. Churchill was nervous of the growing size of the German navy, and suspicious of Germany’s intent. As was he. Edward knew that country bore watching, just as Winston did.
‘I have something very strange to report,’ Will Hasling said, staring at Edward across the latter’s desk, his eyes on his closest friend and colleague.
‘What is it? You look terrible.’
‘I’ve felt terrible all the way back from Paris on the boat train, Ned. I think we’re facing a huge disaster.’
Edward scowled. ‘If there’s something wrong with the vineyards it won’t ruin us, you know…it would be a problem but hardly a disaster. We’re in the black, and very much so.’
‘I know that, and actually this has nothing to do with the vineyards and my business over there. It’s to do with…Neville.’
Sitting up straighter in his chair, an alert look immediately settling on his face, Edward said wearily, ‘Tell me then. Let’s get it over with, Will.’
‘I saw him in Paris—what I mean is, I got a glimpse of him. At the Grand Vefour. I had been dining there with Alphonse Arnaud, and I was just leaving the restaurant when I noticed him at a table in a corner. I fled immediately. Obviously I didn’t want him to see me.’
Edward nodded. ‘He was with somebody he shouldn’t have been with, in your opinion. Is that it?’
‘Louis Charpentier, John Summers, and, listen to this, George.’
‘My George! My brother George?’ Edward exclaimed, in astonishment, shock reflected in his bright blue eyes.
‘That’s right. Your brother George. Quite a cosy quartet, wouldn’t you say?’
‘I would indeed…’ Edward paused, looked down at his engagement book which was open on his desk. ‘Today is Thursday, April the eighteenth. You left on Sunday for your Monday and Tuesday meetings in Paris. So when did you see him?’
‘Tuesday night. I travelled back yesterday, got in early evening. But I didn’t want to tell you this on the phone,’ Will explained.
‘I understand, and there’s no urgency I suppose? But it’s better to know that they’re…plotting? Is that what you think?’
‘There’s something afoot,’ Will answered. ‘Otherwise why would Neville be with John Summers all of a sudden? The enemy. Margot Grant’s right-hand man, and Henry Grant’s, as a matter of fact.’
‘Neville and the Grants! I just can’t believe it,’ Edward muttered. ‘And why?’
‘What about why George Deravenel was with them?’ Will asked, his eyes on Ned.
Edward shook his head. ‘He should be at Oxford, studying. Still, perhaps he had gone to see our sister…you know how close he has always been to Meg.’
‘Perhaps he was there to see her, but he was also at that very suspicious dinner. Listen to me, Ned, I had time to really think about this, coming back on the boat train yesterday, and I’ve got a theory. It’s this—George to replace you at Deravenels, so that Neville can control him, and therefore control the company, and do exactly what he likes with it, make any deals he wishes, and with whom he wants.’
Edward paled. ‘To put George in there he would have to get rid of me.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Blanche Charpentier is now married,’ Edward muttered. ‘So he can’t have been thinking of her becoming George’s bride.’
‘No, of course not!’ Will exclaimed. ‘But I’ve noticed from the Financial Times that Louis has been expanding his business interests in the last few years. An
‘He could make deals with Louis on behalf of his own companies,’ Ned pointed out. ‘Let’s not forget he’s still the biggest tycoon in this country,’ Edward held Will’s gaze; his face was paler than ever and still.
‘Maybe Louis is not interested in Neville’s companies, or doing business with him for those companies. Perhaps he’s only interested in Deravenels.’
‘I think you’re right,’ Edward agreed, sounding worried.
‘George would go along with them, you know that without me telling you.’
‘Of course I know he would. He’s always envied me. He wants to be me.’
‘What can we do?’ Will asked softly.
‘At this moment, nothing. But if Neville is wheeling and dealing with the Grants, then he’s really treacherous. We’re going to outsmart him, my dear friend. I know we can.’
‘How nice to see you here, Finnister!’ Edward exclaimed, shaking Amos’s hand. ‘And I see you’ve made Grace Rose happy, coming to her twelfth birthday party.’
‘I think she was glad to see me, yes, and doesn’t she look lovely, Mr Edward?’
The two men were standing at one end of Vicky Forth’s drawing room in her Kensington house, their eyes on Grace Rose. She was rather tall for twelve, a beautiful girl with red-gold hair falling to her shoulders, and cornflower blue eyes so like Edward’s. They were sparkling today, filled with happiness. She wore a blue silk dress and had a large blue bow in her hair.
Edward took a moment to answer, and then he said, ‘Yes, she is indeed quite the beauty. An amazing looking girl.’
‘Your spitting image, sir, if you don’t mind me saying so.’
Edward began to chuckle. ‘I know, Finnister, I know she is. Well, shall we stroll over there and join Hasling and Ledbetter?’ Edward then added, ‘I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea either.’
Will, Mark, Stephen, Fenella and Vicky were grouped near the buffet table at one side of the room, while Grace Rose was sitting down at a round table with Edward’s daughters Bess and Mary, and several of her little friends. All the children were enjoying the party, eating tea sandwiches and laughing amongst themselves.
Edward had already noticed how caring Grace Rose was of his two daughters, and he smiled inwardly. Grace was a good child, devoted to the little girls, whom she tried to mother. Did she not see her likeness to him? he wondered, and then instantly dropped the thought when Finnister murmured something about Neville.
‘I’m sorry, Finnister, I didn’t quite catch what you said.’
‘I made mention of the fact that I’m leaving Mr Neville’s employ, Mr Deravenel.’
This announcement truly startled Edward and he looked at Amos swiftly, frowning. ‘I hope there’s nothing…gone amiss between you?’
‘Oh, no, no, sir, nothing like that. Not at all. I told Mr Watkins that I wanted to retire. Ever since my poor Lydia died two years ago now, I’ve wanted to be a bit freer, wanted to work less. I’d like to do a few things I enjoy. I explained all this to Mr Watkins, told him that I didn’t want a full-time job anymore.’
‘How about a part-time job? With me?’ Edward said before he could stop himself.
Amos stood staring at Edward, his face totally bland as he asked sotto voce, ‘Doing what, sir?’
‘Watching my back,’ Edward answered.
Amos Finnister smiled, and stuck out his hand. ‘Happy to oblige, Mr Deravenel.’
Edward grinned, delighted at this sudden and most unexpected turn of events, and he said once again, ‘Let’s get a cup of tea, Finnister, and have a few of those delicious sandwiches before Mrs Forth cuts Grace Rose’s birthday cake.’
Last year his sister Meg had been married, and Edward had not seen her since then. Now on this hot July day he thought she looked lovely in her pale green dress and smart hat. And, most importantly, very happy.
She had arrived in London several days ago, en route to Ravenscar for a month’s holiday with her mother. Charles Feraud, her husband of exactly one year, would join her for the last two weeks.
‘For the Glorious Twelfth,’ Meg said, referring to the first day of grouse-shooting across the moors of England. ‘He’s a good shot, Ned, marvellous. One of the best, and he loves the sport.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. We’ll be coming up at the beginning of August, Meg darling, so we’ll be one big happy family again for a short while.’
She smiled at him, as loyal and loving as she had always been since their childhood days. ‘What a beautiful baby Cecily is, Ned. Another blonde,’ she laughed. ‘And quite large.’
Edward had invited his sister to lunch at the Ritz Hotel, and as usual he had been given his favourite table in the corner, overlooking Green Park. Bringing his head closer to hers, he asked, ‘You are happy, Meg, aren’t you? Since I was the one who tried to foster this union I’ve worried about you at times.’
‘You didn’t have to, I wouldn’t have married Charles if I hadn’t wanted to, you know. I’m like you, Ned, very independent, and I detest arranged marriages. Charles and I are extremely compatible, and we do love each other. So, the answer is, yes I’m happy. Very.’
‘I’m relieved to hear it. How do you like your new home?’
‘Burgundy is quite beautiful, and you know the château, you’ve seen it, it’s entrancing. I’ve been busy from morning to night since I arrived there as Charles’s bride. He’s terribly busy running the vineyards, and it’s quite an undertaking.’
‘I can imagine.’ Lifting his glass of champagne, Edward said, ‘Welcome home for a few days, and may your happiness continue, Meg.’
‘Thank you, and to you, Ned. You look wonderful.’ She touched her flute to his. ‘But then you’re the handsomest man I know.’
‘You’re my sister, so you’re prejudiced!’
Meg nodded, and said slowly, ‘Ned, I’ve something to tell you, which I’ve actually been asked to tell you…Please, don’t be too angry.’
His bright burnished head came up from the menu he had been studying, and he glanced at her swiftly, his eyes narrowing. She had sounded very serious. ‘Why would I be angry? This must be something…problematical?’
Meg was silent for a moment, and looked across the room, scowling. Finally she brought her gaze back to his, and said, ‘George married Isabel Watkins yesterday.’
‘What!’ he exploded, although he kept his voice down to a low hiss. ‘Why wasn’t I informed beforehand?’
His sister shook her fair head, and muttered, ‘I don’t know, I don’t understand any of this really. Nan came to see me at the Charles Street house this morning. To tell me. And to ask me to tell you.’
‘And where’s her mighty husband? Hiding behind her skirts?’
‘She didn’t mention Neville, except to say that they didn’t know before it happened.’
‘That takes some believing.’
‘They eloped, Ned. To Gretna Green. Several days ago.’
For a moment Edward digested this, looking reflective, biting his lip, and then rubbing his mouth with his hand. He said, very slowly, and quietly emphatic, ‘Neville and Nan had to know. Because the law changed in Scotland a long time ago. One of the parties to a marriage has to spend twenty-one days in Scotland before a marriage can take place, even if it’s at Gretna Green. Since George was running all over London for the last few weeks, it must have been Isabel who was residing in Scotland for those twenty-one days. Didn’t they know where their daughter was, Meg? After all, she’s not yet twenty-one, around about seventeen or so, if I remember correctly.’
‘Are you sure about the law, Ned?’
‘I am, and I’ll tell you why. I wrote an essay about marriage and the law when I was at Oxford, and I remember my research. Gretna Green has been famous for runaway marriages since the 1700s, and in the middle of the 1800s the law was changed. One of the parties must reside in Scotland for twenty-one d
‘Good Lord, you are a mine of information,’ Meg said, shaking her head, adding, ‘I’m so glad you’re not angry.’
‘Oh, but I am!’ he said sharply. ‘I’m just refraining from displaying that anger here. After all, we are in a public place. Neither am I all that surprised.’
Meg laughed, relieved he had taken it so well. ‘I remember, they were always saying they were going to marry when they were children.’
‘True. Did Nan say where they are at this moment?’
‘On their honeymoon.’
‘And who’s footing that bill? Oh, I needn’t ask,’ he exclaimed, the anger surfacing. ‘Her father, no doubt. And now I suppose it’s your job to tell our mother, because I’m perfectly certain she hasn’t been informed yet.’
‘I promised Nan I would tell Mama when I get to Ravenscar tomorrow.’
‘Where are they spending their honeymoon?’
‘Nan didn’t say, but if I hazard a guess I do think it’s probably Thorpe Manor.’
‘I see. Well, make sure George and Isabel go over to see Mother, promise me that, Meg.’
‘I will, Ned, I will.’
‘Now let’s order lunch, I’ve a busy afternoon,’ he said, somewhat snappishly, she thought.
Later, after he had returned to Deravenels, Edward called Will Hasling to come to his office. The moment the door closed, Ned told him the news, and for a good ten minutes ranted and raved about the elopement, walking up and down furiously.
‘Calm down, Ned,’ Will said at one moment. ‘It’s not worth getting het up about.’
‘Maybe not. Neville and George planned this. Those two have been hand in glove for a long time,’ he cried, his face flushed with his inner rage. ‘Birds of a feather, eh, Will?’ He shrugged, and walked over to his desk. ‘George is after Isabel’s fortune, and Neville wants Deravenels. Well, not the company, but the power it would give him. And brother George is his tool.’