Being Elizabeth (7 page)

‘It could be up and running, and doing very well,' Robert said, ‘but I think not. I remember reading something about it quite recently … I got the impression Alvarez had stopped building. And rather abruptly. Perhaps there
is
trouble.'

‘I wasn't a bit surprised when he didn't come to the funeral,' Elizabeth remarked. ‘But it's possible he stayed away because he didn't want to answer awkward questions. About the Marbella project,' Elizabeth shook her head. ‘That makes sense, don't you think, Robin?'

‘It does. And I aim to find out.' He strode to the door and turned around. ‘I'll see you at the meeting in an hour.'

Elizabeth nodded and went back to studying the papers on her desk. But only for a moment. Her thoughts turned to Robert. She was extremely conscious of him, of his looks, his warmth, and, if she were honest, of his sexual potency. She bent her head, sniffed her jacket: his cologne clung to it, tantalizingly. A small shiver ran through her. Why was she suddenly having such strange thoughts about Robert Dunley, her childhood friend? Dropping her eyes, she stared at the page she had been reading. She smiled to herself then, knowing full well why.

T
he three young men sitting in his office with him were the nucleus of his management team. They had each been in Cecil Williams's line of vision for years, as well as in Elizabeth's. This was because they were talented, shrewd, trustworthy and diligent, not to mention absolutely loyal to Elizabeth. And to himself.

They were sitting together at the other end of the room, chatting amongst themselves, and as Cecil studied them for a moment or two longer he smiled. Those were not the only characteristics the men had in common. All three were tall, handsome and well dressed, and they could charm, with the greatest of ease, anyone they chose to target, be it man, woman or child.

Robert Dunley was the youngest at twenty-five, also the tallest and best looking. Slightly more inclined to be a clothes horse than the other two, with his impeccably tailored Savile Row and Armani suits, and flair for dressing, he had many important qualifications. He was an old hand at Deravenels and devoted to the company, his own genuine loyalty bound up with the years of service his father and grandfather had given to the Turners, and before them the Deravenels.

He was Elizabeth's only childhood friend and without question her favourite. Robin, as she called him, was the one person who could persuade her to change her mind, make a proper decision, and he could always manage to point her in a better direction. Obviously, this was because he knew her better than anyone else, including Cecil.

They had clung together as children, especially through her terrible adversities with her father and then Mary. Robert understood her, could cope easily with her many foibles, occasional temper tantrums and bouts of chronic illness. Cecil had known him for years, and his father before him, and a lasting friendship had built up between them.

Sitting next to Robert was Francis Walsington, a year older at twenty-six. Having studied at Cambridge and Gray's Inn, Francis and he were on the same wavelength and had long been business allies. Cecil was gratified to have Francis around; he was a shrewd operator with tremendous psychological insight into people, and able to handle any situation with great aplomb and skill. He was an expert on security, intelligence, spying techniques and terrorism, and had numerous strange but useful contacts which Cecil didn't want to acknowledge but was grateful to know that he had.

During Mary's power days at Deravenels Francis had travelled throughout Europe, stayed away from London most of the time. Apart from her peculiar management style, Francis found her religious fervour somewhat sickening. Inherited from her mother, Mary's devout Roman Catholicism seemed overly zealous to him. Certainly it did not sit well with Francis's laid-back Protestant outlook on life. He had arrived in London with great alacrity a few weeks ago, fully aware that Elizabeth would soon be running the company, and Cecil had brightened considerably at the sight of him.

On the other side of Robert was Nicholas Throckman. He was the eldest of the three men. He was forty-three, and he had
been a long-time employee at the old trading company. Nicholas had fled at one difficult moment during Mary's tenure, no longer able to put up with her erratic management of the company and strange behaviour in general. He was well versed in all things pertaining to Deravenels, having worked for Edward Selmere during the latter's Administration on behalf of Harry's young son. He had known Elizabeth since her teens and was, in fact, a relative of Catherine Parker, Harry's sixth wife and widow, who had been Elizabeth's stepmother and dear friend.

Of the three men, it was Nicholas who was the most gifted diplomat, in Cecil's opinion, more than likely because he had had more experience. This morning Elizabeth had said to Cecil, ‘All we need are a few good men.' She was right. And fortunately, Cecil thought, three of them are sitting here now.

Rising from behind his desk, Cecil went to join his protégés, saying, as he sat down in a chair, ‘Are you happy? Are you pleased with your appointments, the things Elizabeth proposed to you last Friday?'

‘Absolutely!' Robert exclaimed. ‘Who wouldn't be?'

‘The same here,' Francis agreed.

‘I'm extremely happy, Cecil,' Nicholas murmured. ‘Very happy indeed.'

‘I'm glad to hear it. The reason I asked is because Elizabeth's going to speak about your new positions at the meeting, and I don't want any unforeseen problems from any of you. I want this transfer of power to be as smooth as silk.'

‘How have things gone so far?' Francis asked, leaning forward slightly, his attention on Cecil.

‘Very well, I'm pleased to report. I saw John Norfell last Friday morning, and later in the day I met Charles Broakes. Charlie seemed profoundly relieved we'd moved in so quickly, and was extremely cooperative.'

‘What about Norfell?' Nicholas probed.

‘He was most reasonable. I was cautious with him. Let's not
forget he was very close to Mary, and he's a powerhouse here, as well as a long-time director. I handled him with kid gloves because I don't want to make enemies for Elizabeth. I was especially mild, and I think I put him totally at ease. It didn't hurt that I'd made him responsible for planning all aspects of Mary's funeral.'

Robert's intense dark eyes settled on Cecil, and he said in a warning tone, ‘But he bears watching, take my word for it.'

‘Oh, I do. And I feel the same, Robert. So does Elizabeth, actually. Now, a word about the meeting. Elizabeth wants to come in once we're seated, and she will come in alone. She will run the meeting, so we have to play it by ear. Be careful what you say, don't give any of our plans away. Understood?'

The three men nodded, their expressions solemn.

Robert Dunley sat on Elizabeth's right, and as he listened to her speaking he was filled with enormous pride. She was calm, collected and confident, and spoke eloquently about Deravenels. Also, he was proud of her appearance. Elegant in her navy-blue pinstriped suit, a crisp white shirt with an open collar, and large pearl earrings, she was the epitome of style. Beautiful but businesslike, right on the mark, as far as he was concerned.

They were sitting around the large mahogany table in the boardroom, and until she had entered a few minutes ago the men had been standing around chatting amongst themselves as they waited for her. Charles Broakes, Sidney Payne, Nicholas Throckman, Francis Walsington were grouped together at one end of the room; Elizabeth's cousins Henry Carray and Frank Knowles were engaged in deep conversation with Cecil, whilst he had been talking to John Norfell and Elizabeth's great-uncle Howard, getting on in years but still a director of the company and a viable consultant. Nine of them altogether; seven he was
sure about; one had a big question mark over his head. Robert had long been wary of John Norfell because of his closeness to the late Mary Turner.

‘And so I'm sure you understand that I will go beyond the call of duty to make certain Deravenels prospers and grows stronger in the next few years as we move towards the twenty-first century.' Elizabeth paused, looked around the table, smiling at the assembled men, and continued, ‘I now want to announce my first appointments.' Turning to Cecil on her left, she said, ‘Cecil Williams and I have long worked together because he has been looking after my personal affairs for some years. Today he will become Chief Financial Officer and Director of the Legal Department. And Robert Dunley –' She paused, turned to Robert on her right. ‘I am appointing Robert Chief Operations Officer, and Director of Transport. In effect, the three of us will be running Deravenels together.'

Cecil and Robert both thanked her, and the other men acknowledged the appointments with applause.

Swiftly, Elizabeth proceeded in a brisk voice, ‘I have chosen Nicholas Throckman to be Director of Public Relations and Roving Ambassador for the company, and Francis Walsington will be Director of Security Worldwide.' Again, the two men thanked her warmly, and the others nodded their approval, or clapped.

Staring down the length of the table, Elizabeth's gaze settled on Sidney Payne. She smiled at him. ‘I know Cecil spoke to you yesterday, Sidney, and passed on my request that you take the job of Director of Human Resources. Let me just say that I'm delighted
you
were delighted to accept.'

Sidney, a longtime employee of the ancient trading company and devoted to Elizabeth, smiled broadly. ‘Thank you, Elizabeth, and
thrilled
would be a better word, I think, to describe my feelings.'

She inclined her head, and finished, ‘Those are the only
appointments I'm making today, but there will be others within the next two weeks.' She focused her eyes on John Norfell and Charles Broakes. ‘John, Charles, I will be offering you both new positions in a matter of days, and Henry, Frank, you'll also be included in my new arrangements.'

She smiled at her cousins Frank Knowles and Henry Carray, who nodded their understanding.

Finally, her eyes swung to her great-uncle Howard; he acknowledged her with a warm smile when she said, ‘And of course you will continue as you were, Uncle, and I hope you will become one of my advisers. That would make me happy.'

‘It's my pleasure to be of service,' he responded, looking extremely pleased and not a little proud.

‘Well, gentlemen, that's it for today,' Elizabeth announced in her businesslike manner. ‘I thank all of you for coming, for attending this meeting, and now, if you'll excuse me, I have to leave you.'

‘That was the fastest disappearing act I've ever seen,' John Norfell said, adding, in a somewhat disparaging voice, ‘No doubt she has better fish to fry – a lunch with girlfriends, or perhaps it's a new man?'

Cecil, appalled and angered by these critical and unnecessary comments, had a hard time concealing his furious reaction, and threw Norfell a withering look. ‘Please don't speak about Elizabeth in that tone of voice. What she does is none of your business, or mine, John. She's free, white and twenty-one, and she just happens to be managing director of this company, not to mention its largest single shareholder. In other words, she's the boss.'

John Norfell, never one to apologize, nevertheless had the good grace to look uncomfortable, and suddenly regretted his comments. After a moment's reflection, he said, in a much more
conciliatory voice, ‘It's a disappointment, actually, Cecil. You see, I was hoping she would do us the honour of joining us for lunch but –' He threw up his hands helplessly, looking chagrined. ‘She didn't give us a chance to invite her. She just left.'

‘That's her way. All business. She's gone back to her office to work, if you want to know the truth,' Cecil told him in a steady, controlled manner, even though he was still seething inside. ‘She never has lunch, nor will she be going to any lunches, so you might as well get used to it. You see, Elizabeth doesn't believe in them, and especially not for business. Her attitude is that one never really enjoys the food, and business never gets discussed properly.'

‘I see. So, now we know, and none of us will expect any …
socializing
.'

‘That might be the best attitude,' Cecil murmured quietly.

‘What does she have in mind for me?' John Norfell blurted out anxiously.

‘She hasn't discussed it.'

‘That's hard to believe, Cecil. Come on, she tells you everything.'

Cecil ignored this remark, and explained swiftly, ‘What I do know is that you will be getting a promotion.'

‘Oh, well, thank you for informing me of this, old chap. It's nice to know I'm not going to be pushed out,' Norfell replied with a harsh laugh.

To Cecil's relief, Sidney Payne joined them, and after only a moment's casual chat, John Norfell walked across the room to speak to Charles Broakes.

Sidney said, ‘I hope I did the right thing, coming over to join you, Cecil. I noticed the pained look in your eyes and decided you needed – rescuing.'