Alone Beneath The Heaven (44 page)
Read Alone Beneath The Heaven Online
Authors: Rita Bradshaw
‘Well, lass, you deserve everything that’s come to you, I’ll say that.’ It was Florrie who spoke now, and her voice was thick with suppressed emotion. ‘Aye, there’s none deserves good fortune more than you.’
Sarah hugged Florrie too, before she smiled and said, ‘It wasn’t so much the money in a way, but what Lady Harris said about me in the will. She called me a woman after her own heart - that was nice, wasn’t it - and she said I had touched each of their lives in a special way.’
It was Sarah’s voice that was thick now as she recalled her employer’s tribute, and Maggie cleared her throat loudly, before she said, ‘Right, let’s hear all about it, proper like. Who told you you’d become an heiress an’ joined the nobs?’
Sarah rubbed her nose, and smiled at the pair of them as she reseated herself at the table, before saying, ‘The family’s solicitor, after the funeral the week before last, but I didn’t want to tell you by phone or letter. I wanted to see your faces.’
‘Well you’ve seen ’em, hinny, you’ve seen ’em.’ Maggie shook her head as she eased herself forward in the chair and rubbed at her leg, which although out of plaster was still heavily bandaged. ‘By, I’ve never heard the like, eh, Florrie?’ And as Florrie smiled her agreement, ‘It must’ve bin a weight off your Lady Margaret’s mind an’ all, I should imagine? She’s fair set up now.’
‘It’s wonderful for her. She had made up her mind she wasn’t going to take Sir Geoffrey back, but this has made things so much easier.’
‘Aye, I don’t doubt it.’ Maggie’s voice held a dry note. ‘Money isn’t everythin’ so they tell me, but it goes a long way to oilin’ the wheels. An’ how did himself take the news? Fair jumped for joy did he?’
‘Not exactly.’ Sarah smiled, but in truth Sir Geoffrey’s reaction to his mother’s last will and testament had unnerved her more than a little.
Sir Geoffrey had been every inch the heir apparent at the funeral, charming with the older contingent of elderly ladies who had been his mother’s circle of friends, grave and dignified with the men and somewhat dour minister, and earnest and unsmiling with Lady Margaret and his children.
‘A man for all seasons . . .’ It had been Lady Margaret herself who had whispered the aside to Sarah, as the two of them had stood just within the perimeter of the tiny church-yard at Fenwick, watching Sir Geoffrey as he had conversed with his in-laws.
Sarah hadn’t expected to like Lord and Lady Havistock after Lady Margaret’s confidences regarding her parents, but she had been unprepared for the flash of burning resentment she had felt on their daughter’s behalf when the floridly handsome man and his pretty doll-like wife had swept past Lady Margaret with the briefest of nods.
‘He will be professing to be the noble but misunderstood husband, Sarah, you can be sure of it,’ Lady Margaret continued quietly, her voice tinged with bitterness. ‘I have already been taken to task by my mother on the subject of a wife’s duty to her husband. One turns a blind eye, apparently, to any little indiscretions. In fact it was hinted at that such lapses would not be necessary at all if the wife in question was all she should be.’
There had been a break in her voice as she had finished, and Sarah, deeply indignant on her friend’s behalf, had said, ‘What utter rubbish.’
‘Quite.’ The thin chest under its black linen coat had expanded, before Lady Margaret said again, ‘Quite, that was my reply exactly, and I’m afraid it was not well received.’
The funeral luncheon in Fenwick’s stately dining room had been a lavish affair, but Sarah had been glad to be eating with the housekeeper and the butler in the housekeeper’s private sitting room just off the servants’ quarters. She had been uncomfortably aware of Sir Geoffrey’s presence all through the long morning but she had only met his eyes once, and then she had held the cold gaze without flinching, determined not to be intimidated by a man she loathed and held in deep contempt. But it had been difficult.
All through lunch Sarah reminded herself that there was only the reading of the will to get through in the afternoon, which had been designated to be read in the late Lord Harris’s massive book-lined study with family, close friends and staff present, and then, after that necessary formality, they could leave for London. And it couldn’t be soon enough.
Fenwick was imposing, the house and grounds were beautifully maintained, but Sarah was aware the staff regarded her with some suspicion. They weren’t sure of her standing with Lady Margaret and exactly of how she fitted into the scheme of things, and it showed. No doubt Hilda had been fairly eloquent below stairs regarding the lurid happenings at Emery Place, and the subsequent departure of Sir Geoffrey, under protest, from his mother’s home, but it hadn’t endeared Sarah to the staff at Fenwick. They were curious about the stranger in their midst, but Sarah detected a certain resentment directed at what they perceived as her quick rise to power. It didn’t make for comfortable eating.
And then had come the reading of the will.
The silence had been heavy and absolute as the family solicitor, an august personage with small steel-framed spectacles balanced on the end of his long thin nose, had read from the document in his hand. The immediate family, consisting of Sir Geoffrey and Lady Margaret, Lady Harris’s sister and niece and Lord and Lady Havistock, had been joined by several other relations and friends at the solicitor’s request, and were seated on upholstered gold-framed chairs in front of the heavy antique writing desk at which the solicitor sat.
Behind them stood the senior members of the household staff at Fenwick, with two grooms and the head gardener making up the rear. And at the back of them all was Sarah, whose initial feeling of awe had changed to stunned disbelief by the time the faintly pompous voice had finished speaking.
The silence had stretched and lengthened with every pair of eyes fixed on the back of Sir Geoffrey’s head, but still no one had moved or spoken, and it had come as a relief to everyone present when Sir Geoffrey had at last risen from his chair and turned to face the room. But the relief had been shortlived.
‘
You
-
you
—’ He had advanced on Sarah slowly, his eyes almost popping out of his head with the rage he was trying to contain and his sallow face tinged with purple. ‘
You
-’ He had seemed incapable of uttering anything different through his clenched teeth, spittle having gathered either side of his mouth in white blobs, and he went on repeating the word until he was standing in front of her, when he said, ‘So you managed it, did you?’
You
-
you
—’ He had advanced on Sarah slowly, his eyes almost popping out of his head with the rage he was trying to contain and his sallow face tinged with purple. ‘
You
-’ He had seemed incapable of uttering anything different through his clenched teeth, spittle having gathered either side of his mouth in white blobs, and he went on repeating the word until he was standing in front of her, when he said, ‘So you managed it, did you?’
‘I don’t know what you mean, Sir Geoffrey.’ Sarah’s heart was thudding so hard it was in danger of leaping out of her chest.
‘
Don’t give me that
.’ He glared at her, rubbing his lips with the back of his hand before saying again, ‘Don’t give me that. I knew what you were up to from the first minute I laid eyes on you.’
Don’t give me that
.’ He glared at her, rubbing his lips with the back of his hand before saying again, ‘Don’t give me that. I knew what you were up to from the first minute I laid eyes on you.’
‘If you are suggesting that Sarah had anything to do with your mother changing her will, then you are quite wrong, Geoffrey.’ Lady Margaret spoke for the first time, her face red with embarrassment at the unpleasant scene her husband was making and her voice still dazed from the wonder of her good fortune. ‘You know exactly what led her to act in such a manner.’
‘I know
who
did.’ He was grinding the words out, beside himself with fury, and one of the grooms, a big muscular fellow with a huge barrel chest and arms like a wrestler, moved closer to Sarah’s side, obviously fearing Sir Geoffrey meant her physical harm. ‘Oh yes, I know who did. You think you’ve been very clever, don’t you, my girl?’
who
did.’ He was grinding the words out, beside himself with fury, and one of the grooms, a big muscular fellow with a huge barrel chest and arms like a wrestler, moved closer to Sarah’s side, obviously fearing Sir Geoffrey meant her physical harm. ‘Oh yes, I know who did. You think you’ve been very clever, don’t you, my girl?’
Sarah’s face was white but her voice didn’t quiver as she said, ‘My conscience is clear, Sir Geoffrey. Can you say the same?’
She heard the intake of breath from the Fenwick staff, and Lady Havistock’s exclamation of, ‘Well, really!’, but the man himself continued to stare at her, his teeth gnashing together and his eyes unblinking, and then he said, his voice low but deadly, ‘This isn’t the end of it, you know that, don’t you?’
The solicitor had coughed at this point, before saying, ‘Sir Geoffrey, please, please, compose yourself. You are at liberty to contest Lady Harris’s will, if you should feel so inclined.’
‘Thank you, Mr Bryant.’ The sarcasm was vicious, but again he didn’t take his eyes off Sarah’s face, even when Lady Margaret at the side of them said, ‘Please, Geoffrey, come and sit down, and let’s discuss this rationally.’
‘No, this is not the end of it, my girl, not by a long chalk.’ It was as though there was no one else in the room, and she could feel the dark force of his enmity even though his voice had become very quiet as he continued, ‘There are ways and means. Oh yes, there are ways and means. All good things come to those that wait.’
He hadn’t been talking of his intention to contest the will through the courts
. Sarah forced her mind back from the harrowing threat she had sensed in Sir Geoffrey’s voice that day two weeks ago, looking quickly at Maggie who had just said, ‘It looks like you’re set up for life, lass. Any ideas what you’ll do with the money?’
. Sarah forced her mind back from the harrowing threat she had sensed in Sir Geoffrey’s voice that day two weeks ago, looking quickly at Maggie who had just said, ‘It looks like you’re set up for life, lass. Any ideas what you’ll do with the money?’
‘A few, but mainly I’ll just carry on as normal for the time being until the dust settles.’
‘With twenty thousand sittin’ beggin’?’
‘I haven’t got it yet.’
‘As good as, hinny, as good as.’
When Sarah merely smiled, but made no reply beyond saying, as she rose, ‘I’ll make some fresh tea,’ Maggie’s eyes narrowed at Florrie, and the two exchanged a long look before Maggie said to Sarah’s back as she stood at the stove, ‘What did the doctor think to your windfall then? You’ve told him, I’ll be bound?’
‘Yes, I’ve told him.’
‘An’ what did he say?’
‘He . . . he was surprised.’
‘Aye, well it wouldn’t take the Brain of Britain to work that one out, lass.’
‘And pleased. He was pleased, of course.’
Had Rodney been pleased? Sarah asked herself for the umpteenth time since she had dropped her little bombshell during his first visit after the funeral. He had been effusive, after the first blank moment of surprise, but she hadn’t felt he was really pleased, not if she was truthful, at least not wholeheartedly . . . There had been something tempering his gladness for her, and she didn’t understand what. He had been enthusiastic about what the money could do for her, joking that they soon wouldn’t see her for dust, but he had left overly quickly and had seemed preoccupied on his one other visit since then. No, overall she wouldn’t say he was really pleased.
‘Well, there’s never a dull moment, lass, I’ll say that. An’ you say the doctor’ll be callin’ in sometime, eh? Calls fairly regular, does he?’
Sarah now turned from the stove, slanting her gaze at the old woman whom she loved dearly, but who had the disturbing ability to read her mind at times, and her face was expressionless when she said, ‘Now and again, but he wants to see you two, so no doubt he’ll pop in tonight once his surgery is finished. His brother is staying with him at the moment. He’s just sold his house but his flat isn’t quite ready yet, it’s being decorated, so Rodney is putting him up for a while.’
‘Aye, well blood’s thicker than water, lass.’
‘So they say, Maggie.’ So they say.
When Rodney did call later that evening Maggie and Florrie were already comfortably established in the room at the far end of the hall, almost opposite the kitchen. It was a large room, which easily accommodated the two single beds, thick oak wardrobe and small dressing table which had been moved in there, along with two comfortable easy chairs and an occasional table which stood in front of the electric f ire.
Maggie was sitting in one of the chairs, her leg resting on a small upholstered stool Sarah had borrowed from the drawing room, when Rodney popped his head round the door, and immediately she saw him her lined old face creased in a wide smile. ‘Eeh, lad, you’re a sight for sore eyes.’
‘That’s nice to hear, Maggie.’ He came fully into the room, with Sarah just behind him, as he added, ‘This looks very comfortable. They’ve done you proud, haven’t they?’
‘Aye, don’t I know it. Me brain thinks me body’s died an’ landed in heaven.’ And then, as Rodney glanced round, ‘Florrie’s gabbin’ with Hilda in the kitchen, she’s bin in there half the evenin’.’ She wished that slight reserve that still existed between Florrie and the lad could be done away with, but then, folk were as God made them.
Rodney nodded but made no comment, and when Sarah said, ‘Sit down a minute, won’t you?’ he half turned to include her in the shake of his head as he said, ‘Thanks all the same but I haven’t got time to stop tonight, this is just a fleeting visit to say hallo to this one here.’ And then, turning fully to Maggie again, ‘Sarah’s told you her good news? We have a woman of substance among us.’
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