Читать книгу The Complete Ravenscar Trilogy: The Ravenscar Dynasty, Heirs of Ravenscar, Being Elizabeth - Barbara Taylor Bradford - Страница 40

TWENTY-THREE

At times Cecily Deravenel wished she had been born a man. There were many things she could do better and faster than some of the men she knew; but as a child of Victoria’s reign and now a woman of the Edwardian era, so much had been, and still was, forbidden to her. Over the years she had suffered her frustration, annoyance and impatience in silence, as had so many other women she knew. Many men, in public and private, complained about Mrs Pankhurst and her fight for the rights of women, but Cecily could not help but admire her, and her efforts on behalf of the female sex.

At this precise moment, Cecily wished she had been standing in her late husband’s shoes over the last few years. She would have definitely challenged Henry Grant about his mismanagement of Deravenels, and his right to run it. Curiously, Richard had never really done so, perhaps out of sentiment, and a lingering affection for Harry whom he had known throughout his life, since Henry’s childhood, in fact.

It was all here, all the documents which would have brought the situation to a head, if Richard had so wished. Earlier that morning she had gone down to the vault in the basement of the Charles Street house and opened it with Swinton’s help. Once she was alone, Cecily had removed a large pile of documents, which Richard had secured in a white linen pillow case, and had taken them up to the dining room.

Now these were spread out in front of her, and she studied them carefully. All of the papers were actually copies of ancient documents which dated back hundreds of years, documents so fragile they were stored in the vaults at the Deravenel offices in the Strand.

Long ago, Richard had told her that every five years or so, before the copies themselves yellowed and aged, they were copied afresh. He had gone on to explain that those originals in the office vaults dated as far back as the founding father of the dynasty, Guy de Ravenel, and were very precious and also extremely valuable historically.

As she slowly read, turned the pages, and read on, Cecily quickly understood that everything Richard had written in his diary was correct. She was struck, most forcibly, by the fact that he himself could so easily have presented a case to the board, yet for some reason he had not put that plan into operation. He had only written about doing it.

Once more, she wondered why? Sentiment aside, he was not a fearful man; certainly he was capable of standing up to anyone. He had never been cowardly, just the opposite, in fact. Yet, in this instance, he had backed away from the fight, and had merely continued to grumble about the sixty-year-old usurpation and his inalienable rights and so on, and had angered people in the process. She could not comprehend why he had not acted, given the evidence, and now she would never know. He had taken that reason to the grave with him.

Two hours later, fully informed about the rules and regulations of Deravenels, understanding everything, she collected the papers and carried them up to her bedroom in the pillow case. Placing them on her bed for a moment, she opened a drawer in the chest which stood in the corner, and placed the documents inside.

Later she would show them to Edward, when he returned from lunch with Neville and Will. Even though her husband had never seen fit to take advantage of her many talents and insights when it came to business, she knew her son would. And this pleased her. Ned had always listened to her opinions, paid attention to what she had to say, knowing he would benefit from her wisdom and sage advice.

‘I can’t believe it’s you, Johnny!’ Edward exclaimed, rushing across the library of Neville’s Chelsea house. ‘No one told me you would be here today!’

Hurrying forward to greet his favourite cousin, Johnny Watkins explained, with a wide grin, ‘That’s because no one knew I would be arriving last night.’

Meeting in the middle of the floor, the two men wore appraising expressions as they eyed one another with great affection. They both laughed, remembering so much. They were not only first cousins but the best of friends, having bonded long ago when they were growing up in Yorkshire—Johnny at Witton Castle, Rick’s splendid home in the Dales, Edward at Ravenscar on the high cliffs at the edge of the North Sea. They were regular visitors to each other’s homes, and also often stayed with Neville and Nan at Thorpe Manor near Ripon.

Although Johnny was a few years older than Ned, they had always seen eye to eye, shared the same values…honour, integrity, loyalty to family, and devotion to friends. These were their sincere and genuine beliefs, and they had remained steadfast in their love for each other and in their friendship.

Standing away from Edward, Johnny’s dark-grey eyes swept over his cousin’s face, and he said, with a faint smile, ‘You don’t look like the wounded warrior to me.’

‘I’m not. Not anymore, Johnny. It’s two weeks since the incident, so the bruises are almost gone. I’m no longer black and blue, and the shoulder pains have also fled.’

Johnny touched Ned’s arm lightly, his expression serious. ‘Thank God you’re all right. You could’ve been killed, you know, Ned. And then where would I have been? Where would all of us have been? After losing my brother Thomas and your Edmund, and our fathers, well, I don’t think I could have survived the loss of you.’

There was a moment’s silence.

Ned’s brilliantly blue eyes turned dark with pain before he said slowly, ‘I know, it’s still a raw wound, for all of us. But we do have our families, and each other, Johnny.’

‘For life,’ Johnny answered.

Ned nodded, smiled at his friend and cousin. And at this moment he had no way of knowing that it would not always be so. Not in the end.

‘How is Isabella? And your boy?’ Ned asked.

‘Wonderful, and if my sojourn here becomes a more permanent situation, she will come with our son to London, live here with me. Neville is well satisfied that things are under control in Yorkshire. The woollen mills in Bradford are turning out the best cloth, a lot of it for export. Our heavy-machinery manufacturing plants in Leeds are booming. The coal mines are operating well, better than ever—in fact all of our industrial interests are at full throttle. My father had everything running smoothly when he was killed—’ Johnny broke off, looked away for a second before adding, ‘and Neville has always had his business interests on an even keel. That’s why he decided I should come here and keep you company, so to speak. Until we take over Deravenels.’

‘And that we will certainly be doing in the not-too-distant future!’ Neville Watkins announced self-confidently from the doorway, and came striding into the library accompanied by Alfredo Oliveri and Amos Finnister.

Once he had greeted Ned affectionately, he introduced the other two men to his brother John.

Although Neville and Johnny bore a marked family resemblance, they were quite different. Neville, the eldest, was always elegance personified, dressed in the best. Johnny was not at all flamboyant in his choice of attire, and he dressed rather simply in good clothes that were understated.

Johnny was as good looking as all of the Watkins’ clan, and like his older brother he bore a strong resemblance to his Aunt Cecily Watkins Deravenel.

As for his character, he was hardworking and disciplined but not quite the slave to business that his brother was. He very frequently teased Neville, told him he lived out of a suitcase as he travelled the length and breadth of England.

Johnny liked the quiet country life, was something of a homebody, unlike Neville and Ned, who thrived amidst luxury, glamour and splendour, and loved the gilded life of society.

Neville indicated the men should sit down near the fireplace. ‘Even though it’s the beginning of April, it’s still rather cold,’ he pointed out, and seated himself near the hearth.

A moment later Will Hasling came striding into the library, greeting everyone in his usual breezy and cheerful manner, and then he hurried over to Johnny; they shook hands. They were old friends, good friends, and trusted each other implicitly.

Neville said, ‘Oliveri has a few things to tell us, so I suggest he speaks first.’

Alfredo nodded, and sitting slightly forward in the chair, he said, ‘The first thing I want to report is the general attitude at Deravenels after Mr Edward was so brutally attacked two weeks ago. I noticed the tense atmosphere myself, but most of my information came from Robert Aspen and Christopher Green. They are on our side. Anyway, they told me, separately, by the way, that John Summers was really furious, that he hauled his ex-ecutives over the coals regarding the attack on Mr Edward, and demanded to know who was responsible.’

‘I’ll wager they all denied having anything to do with it,’ Ned exclaimed, glancing across at Neville.

Alfredo nodded vehemently. ‘Naturally they did. And then James Cliff did something quite treacherous. He said, rather pointedly, that Jack Beaufield ought to know who was behind it since he was “sequestered” with Margot Grant quite a lot these days.’

‘Really,’ Neville remarked, then laughed at the thought of this. ‘Well, we sort of knew that already, didn’t we, Finnister?’

The private investigator smiled but remained silent.

‘Jack Beaufield admitted that he was friendly with her,’ Alfredo explained, ‘but insisted he had refused to help her do harm to Ned. He suggested she hire thugs to do her dirty work.’

‘It’s more than likely she did,’ Amos now interjected, ‘but we’ll never be able to prove it.’

‘John Summers has cooled on Margot Grant, angrily turned away from his Queen Bee, but not for long. Christopher Green says they are once more in cahoots, and just as friendly as ever, whilst Jack Beaufield has been relegated to a back bench.’ Alfredo sat back, his eyes on Neville.

‘None of this is really surprising,’ Neville began and then stopped abruptly, considered things for a moment. ‘However, come to think of it, it’s not such a bad idea, having them all at each other’s throats.’

‘They won’t be for long,’ Ned interrupted. ‘They are all smitten by that woman, solidly behind her.’

Alfredo said, ‘I would like to speak to you all about Aubrey Masters now. Apart from the fact that he’s been acting somewhat strangely, he’s apparently got it in for me. I hear he is trying to have me thrown out of the company. And out of the country. He’s blackening my name, I’m afraid, and I don’t like the look of things.’

‘He must be stopped. Immediately,’ Neville said in a cold, hard voice, staring at Amos. ‘He should be induced to retire.’

‘He has become a bit of a…nuisance,’ Amos murmured, struggling to find the right word to describe Aubrey Masters. He looked as if he was about to say something else, but he stopped himself.

‘Who will rid me of this turbulent priest,’ Will said, a quirky smile playing around his mouth.

Neville glanced at him then said softly, ‘I knew we would hear that before long.’ Turning to Amos, Neville added, ‘Perhaps we can find a way to persuade Aubrey Masters to cease. He must be made to understand he can’t speak ill of people and most especially Oliveri here.’

‘I will certainly try, sir.’ Amos looked doubtful as he said this.

‘To my last and perhaps most important discovery,’ Alfredo announced, looking from Neville to Ned, and began in a low, confiding voice, ‘I think I’ve found out what’s wrong with the mines…what your father discovered, too, Mr Edward.’

The room went quiet. No one spoke. No one moved. Everyone was waiting for Alfredo’s words.

‘Somebody is stealing the product from the mines, skimming diamonds, emeralds and gold. Or money off the top.’

‘But who?’ Ned asked, incredulity echoing in his voice.

‘In my opinion it could be the local managers,’ Alfredo answered him.

‘They wouldn’t dare!’ Neville exclaimed. ‘Or would they?’ His eyes narrowed slightly, and he threw Alfredo a pointed look. ‘Unless they had approval from the head office…located on the Strand. A partner in Deravenels?’

‘That was my guess.’ Alfredo nodded. ‘And Rob Aspen agrees with me. I’d been working late last week, and so had he; that was when he actually drew my attention to discrepancies he was finding. I knew at once what this meant. I gathered he did, too, had had the same idea. Anyway, I asked him not to reveal this to Masters, or to anyone else. At least for the moment.’

‘Why?’ Ned asked, and then swiftly added, ‘I understand, don’t bother to answer my stupid question. If the other side finds out we know about the discrepancies, they’ll try to cover them up. Somebody in London is running this scheme.’

‘Precisely.’ Alfredo gave Ned a knowing smile.

‘So we’re not going to deal with it until we’re running Deravenels ourselves, later in the summer,’ Neville announced. ‘Let’s leave this matter in abeyance for the moment. And move on. Finnister informed me several days ago that he now has in his hands all of the records from the insane asylums, where Henry Grant was sequestered a number of times. Let’s hear about it, Finnister.’

‘Mr Watkins told you the most important part of my story,’ Amos began. ‘We are indeed in possession of the records. They are very detailed and extremely useful. I have hired a well-known doctor to look at these records, study them, and give a written report on what they mean. In other words, how will Henry Grant behave over the next few years? Is he on the brink of going totally mad? Is he already suffering from dementia? What are his chances of survival? And finally, is he capable of running a company such as Deravenels?’

‘I think the doctor will have no problem giving you the best written opinion there is, and no doubt it will be the kind of opinion which will serve us best.’ Neville threw Amos a questioning look.

‘You are right, sir. The doctor I engaged, Mr Rupert Haversley-Long, is a specialist, a psychiatrist who has been a colleague of the famous Dr Sigmund Freud.’

‘I have no fears he will do the job perfectly,’ Neville murmured. Rising, Neville continued, ‘Let us all go into the dining room. We will be able to discuss everything further over an apéritif before we partake of lunch.’

The others rose and followed Neville out of the library.

Ned said to Alfredo, ‘Don’t worry, old chap, we’ll neutralize Aubrey Masters in some way or other. We can’t lose you, we especially need you here in London these days. Permanently.’

‘I agree. When are you returning to the office?’

‘On Monday morning. The hospital gave me several examinations this past week, and everything is apparently quite normal. In my opinion, they’ve been overly cautious, but my mother insisted on these extra tests and I don’t think even Dr Robertson had the nerve to contradict Cecily Deravenel.’

Alfredo smiled. ‘I know what you mean. There’s no one quite like your formidable mother. Anyway, she was right. Head wounds can be dicey, very dicey indeed.’