Heirs of Ravenscar (20 page)

‘Yes, it is, Julian. How can I help you?' his old friend asked.

Stark told him about his encounter with George Deravenel,
and added, ‘Do what you want with this information, but personally, in all good conscience, I think you ought to inform Will. Edward Deravenel should know about his brother's treachery. I consider him to be a blackguard.'

‘It's done,' Howard Hasling answered, and hung up.

J
ane Shaw stood at the French windows of the blue room in her house, looking out at the garden. It was vivid with spring flowers on this sunny March afternoon … purple, yellow and white crocuses, narcissi, pale and delicate, and a parade of bright yellow daffodils, rows of them, glorious, she thought. ‘Dancing and fluttering in the breeze,' she said aloud as she turned away, smiling to herself. She had always loved that famous Wordsworth poem which had suddenly jumped into her mind.

Crossing the room, she went to the fire, lifted the poker and stirred the logs, then bent down, threw on several more. Although the bad winter weather had suddenly disappeared and spring was here, it was still quite cold outside today despite the sun, and there was a wind.

Glancing at the carriage clock on the mantelpiece, she saw that it was almost three forty-five, later than she thought. Leaving the blue-and-yellow room, she crossed the hall and went looking for the housekeeper, and found
Mrs Longden in the butler's pantry going over some lists.

‘I hadn't realized how late it was, Mrs Longden,' she said, with a smile. ‘Mrs Forth and Mr Deravenel will be here shortly. I'm assuming everything is prepared.'

‘Oh yes, Madam, it is, of course. And do you wish Wells to serve tea immediately? Or should we wait a short while?'

‘We can wait for a few minutes, I think, let everyone settle –' Jane broke off as the doorbell pealed, and Mrs Longden exclaimed, ‘I think we have an early arrival, Madam, I'd better go and answer the door.' As she spoke she hurried off, and Jane followed more slowly, knowing that it was more than likely Vicky who was arriving, not Edward. He had told her on the phone earlier that he might be late this afternoon and not to wait for him to have their afternoon tea, and he would get there as soon as he could.

As the door opened Vicky Forth stepped inside, looking beautiful, the personification of elegance, as she usually did, smart in her dark purple wool coat trimmed with astrakhan and a purple felt cloche hat with a satin band trimmed with a small bunch of artificial violets at one side.

Jane glided across the floor and the two women greeted each other, embraced, and Vicky said, ‘The weather's frightfully treacherous today, my dear. Quite cold, and the wind is biting.'

‘I could tell how windy it is outside from the trees blowing in the garden,' Jane answered, as Vicky slipped out of her coat and gave it to the housekeeper to hang up. ‘But at least the snow has gone.'

The two women walked into the blue room, and Vicky murmured, ‘I came early, so we can have a few more minutes together. To discuss
that
party. The famously fantastic party we're planning.'

Jane nodded, looked suddenly gloomy, as she led her friend over to the fireplace. ‘I think the whole thing might be rather
a problem, to be honest. Sit here, darling, near the fire, it's lovely and warm.'

‘I know what you're going to say, Jane, it will be a problem because Elizabeth will more than likely find out.'

‘There's no question in my mind about that. She will, because there's so much awful gossip in this town. And she'll make a fuss.' Jane sat down opposite her friend, and continued, ‘You went to see Fenella today, didn't you? How is she?'

‘She's been very ill, but she's much better, and yes, I popped in this morning. She sends you her love. She's happy to be out of the hospital and back at home at the Curzon Street house, it's much more comfortable, obviously. She's going to be fine. Double pneumonia is perfectly dreadful, but she has the best doctors, and she's a very strong woman basically.'

‘I know …' Jane left her sentence unfinished, and sighed. ‘I suppose she knew about the things Elizabeth was saying about her before she became ill and went into hospital.'

‘Yes, she did, but you know what Fenella is like – she rises above that sort of nonsense, and just gets on with it, does her job, leads her life without paying too much attention to the rest of the world. By that, I mean people she isn't close to, and quite rightly so.'

‘I understand, and yes she is rather clever to do that.' Sitting back against the cushions, Jane added, ‘All right … so, what to do about the birthday celebration for Ned?'

‘I'd really love to have a party for him,' Vicky exclaimed enthusiastically. ‘He's going to be thirty-four, such a lovely age for a man – well, for anyone, actually – and you know he so enjoys being spoiled by his friends. What day of the week is the twenty-eighth of April, Jane? I'm afraid I forgot.'

‘It's a Monday, and I've always thought that it would be difficult for him to attend our party on that date, because of his family, particularly the children, who do so adore him.
If we do go ahead and give it, then it will have to be on another evening. Either before or after the twenty-eighth.'

‘Knowing Ned, he won't care if the party is before or after his birthday,' Vicky murmured, thinking out loud. ‘So for the moment the date doesn't matter. The thing is what kind of party are we going to give? Where shall we have it? And who are we going to invite?'

‘Let's think about the guests first, Vicky,' Jane responded, trying to shake off her gloomy mood. She pushed on, said, ‘We'll all be there, obviously.
His lot
, as he calls us, but who else? What other friends do we invite?'

Vicky pursed her lips. ‘You know that better than I do, surely, my dear.'

‘There are a few people he likes, whom we see sometimes but, to be honest, I'm not sure he would want to have the kind of large and fancy party we were originally planning. Nor would he want to have it in a public place, like the ballroom of the Ritz or the Savoy –' Jane stopped, shook her head. ‘I think I have it. Ned loves
his lot. Us
. You and Stephen, Will and Kathleen, Amos, Grace Rose. What he would appreciate the most would be a small dinner at your house, or we can have it here. What do you think, Vicky?'

‘I believe you're right. Also, it's safer in the long run … why give
her
titbits to gossip about. She's done enough damage –'

‘But you said Fenella didn't care –' Jane cried, cutting in peremptorily, ‘and only a moment ago, I might add.'

‘She doesn't. However, I think Elizabeth's tittle-tattle, silly as it is, just besmirches Edward's name yet again. Why can't she keep her mouth shut about him, he's her husband –' Vicky stopped abruptly, staring at Jane, looking apologetic.

‘I'm so sorry, darling, I didn't mean to blurt that out.'

Jane laughed. ‘I know you didn't mean any harm, and let's face it, he
is
her husband.'

‘Don't you ever get jealous, Jane?' Vicky asked, suddenly curious, gazing across at her best friend. ‘You certainly never show it. You're the perfect lady.'

‘There are moments when I do have a stab of it, naturally, but I know exactly what he genuinely feels for me. I'm aware I give
him
comfort, warmth, much love, and support, and he needs that from me. He doesn't get that at home. And besides, I prefer things to remain the way they are.'

‘But why?' Vicky couldn't help asking, her eyes wide, questioning.

Leaning forward, pinning her eyes on Vicky, Jane explained, ‘If I wanted to, I could probably entice him into my arms permanently, induce him to leave her, even get a divorce. But he's a family man at heart, loves his children, enjoys being with them, and inevitably he would begin to miss them, and he'd start to feel remorseful, guilty and that would upset me. Because he'd want to be running to see them, and there would be havoc, chaos everywhere, tears and recriminations, and quarrels. It would be far too complex to handle. This way, being his mistress, he comes to me willingly, needing me, desiring me, and he knows very well he can have
me
and his children. In a sense he does have the best of both worlds, and that's all right with me. And before you say it, I know he sleeps with her, because the children keep arriving. He's that kind of man, you know. He'd always have women whomever he was married to … anyway I do know he is faithful to me.'

Vicky smiled. ‘You remind me so much of Lily Overton, Jane. You are very much like her in many ways. Oh, let's change the subject, here's your butler with the tea.'

Vicky sat quietly on the sofa, listening to Jane and Edward chatting about a painting; they then moved on to more
mundane subjects, spoke about his busy day at the office, her day, what they had each done. And planned to do later in the week.

She smiled to herself. They sounded like an old married couple, rather than mistress and lover. Their conversation echoed the kind of chit-chat she had with Stephen every night, when he came home from the bank.

It suddenly occurred to her that they were exactly
that
… except for a piece of paper declaring the legality of their union. Ned's peace, contentment and relaxation took place here in Jane's house, where he lived a rather domesticated life with her. It certainly did not take place in Berkeley Square with Elizabeth.

She shuddered at the thought of his wife, a vile woman, a shallow woman, concerned only with her looks, her clothes, her jewellery and the vast amount of money required to buy her expensive baubles and fripperies. She wasn't a particularly good mother, had neglected Bess and the other girls since they were born, was quite obviously only interested in the two boys, most especially Young Edward: because he was the heir to Deravenels and all that belonged to Ned.

Vicky dreaded to think what would happen when she told him the things Elizabeth had been saying about Fenella. Jane and she had agreed, before Ned had arrived, that she would be the one to tell him, since she had heard most of the gossip.

Dropping her eyes, Vicky stared at his shoes, polished to a gleaming finish. They looked like glass. Handmade. No doubt he had his own last at Lobb's, the renowned shoe-maker. Her eyes took in the navy-blue suit. Impeccable cut. Savile Rowe perfect. The latest style. Shirt a crisp white Egyptian cotton. From Turnbull and Asser, more than likely. A bright blue silk cravat, tied in a fashionable knot, and the colour of his eyes.

A perfect specimen of elegant and handsome masculinity,
she thought, and remembered how impressed she had been all those years ago, when her brother Will had introduced her to Ned. It wasn't his gorgeous looks that had captivated her so much as his charm, good-natured affability, and, more than anything else, his absolute self-assurance. It was a self-assurance that was truly
his
, he had been born with it, had not acquired it like so many other people did. It was the self-assurance some mistook for arrogance. But he wasn't an arrogant man, far from it.

Will had told her over the years that Edward had run Deravenels with a very sure hand from the beginning, even though he was only nineteen and not experienced in business. He had charmed those executives in the company who were inclined towards the Yorkshire Deravenels, and cleverly enlisted their help to learn about the business. They had followed Oliveri's example, and taught him as much as they knew about their divisions. By the time he was twenty-one he knew everything there was to know about the company started by his ancestor, Guy de Ravenel, hundreds of years before. The executives who had clustered around him had force-fed him information like a goose being force-fed for
foie gras
.

‘He remembered everything,' Will had explained to her. ‘And still does. He's got a photographic memory, and a relentless capacity for work. And he taught me everything I know, and that's why I'm a successful executive at Deravenels today.'

Vicky sat back, her mind still on Edward. He might have been considered a playboy in the past, and a womanizer, but he was neither today. He had been with Jane Shaw for over ten years, and had never strayed, to her knowledge. For the most part, the gossip about him had to do with his faithfulness to her, not his sexual adventures with other women. The only other woman in his life was his wife. Vicky pondered this for a moment. He apparently still found her physically
enticing, because he kept making her pregnant. That was
it
, though, there was nothing else between them. Vicky was aware of this. The relationship he had with Elizabeth out of bed was frighteningly barren. They had nothing in common.

‘You're very quiet, Vicky,' Edward said unexpectedly, glancing at her. ‘I hope you're not worrying about funds for the recreation centre, now that Fenella and you have decided to go ahead with it. I have a cheque for you for ten thousand pounds, and I'll give it to you before you leave.'

Momentarily startled, Vicky stared at him, then exclaimed, ‘Oh Ned, how generous you are! Thank you so much. Fenella has put up the same amount, and so have I. Stephen and Will promised to match you to the penny, and Fenella's Aunt Philomena has already given us twenty thousand, so we have seventy thousand pounds to start us off.'