Читать книгу Barbara Taylor Bradford’s 4-Book Collection - Barbara Taylor Bradford - Страница 24

At the other side of London, on this same lovely February morning, David Cunningham, the Earl of Langley, sat at his desk in the library of his Mayfair town house, drinking a cup of tea. The Times, and various other daily newspapers, lay unopened, since he had neither the inclination nor interest to peruse any of them. A variety of matters occupied his mind, not the least of which was the large and ominous-looking pile of bills stacked on the leather-bound blotter.

Hell, he thought, I might as well tackle these blasted things first. I certainly can’t deal with any of my other problems just now. Sighing, he began to sort through the pile, pulling out the most critical and pressing. He wrote a number of cheques, made a few calculations and returned the remainder of the bills to the drawer. Most of these were also urgent, but he felt they could safely wait until next month. They would have to wait. ‘I’m always robbing Peter to pay Paul,’ he muttered out loud. A gloomy expression dulled his fine intelligent eyes, and there was an unfamiliar droop to his mouth.

David Cunningham scrimped and scraped and economized in every conceivable way, and yet he was always beset by the most acute financial worries. Income from the estate and farming, as well as other holdings, was continually swallowed up by general overheads, maintenance of the castle and the estate and new farming equipment. He was gradually replacing the old and outdated machinery with more modern pieces, but this was a slow and increasingly costly process. Certainly the new equipment had introduced greater efficiency and improved his farming methods; even so, his latest projections indicated he would not be out of the red and into the black for almost another two years. Until then the cash flow would continue to be an excruciating problem, and what he sorely needed was a little ready cash to put everything on an even keel, but there was scant possibility of getting it. Unless … He could sell the two prize heifers to Giles Martin, a neighbouring farmer who had been pressing him to let them go for almost a year. He had been somewhat reluctant to resort to this measure, since he did not want to deplete the herd, and yet the sale would partially ease his current burdens. Perhaps it was the easiest solution, and one he should not be so ready to dismiss.

David made the decision he had been baulking at for the longest time. By God, he would sell the heifers, and the moment he returned to Yorkshire. In fact, he would telephone Giles later in the day and so inform him. David smiled to himself. And he had better make that call, before he changed his mind again.

He immediately felt a sense of relief, and the heavy constricting feeling in his chest, which he had been experiencing for several hours, now lifted. In general, the Earl was a relaxed, even-tempered man, who had a positive outlook on life, a rare good humour and was unaffected by his daily worries.

He flipped through the morning mail. Not very interesting, except for a letter from Doris Asternan, who was still in Monte Carlo. He read it eagerly. Doris had written to tell him that she was returning to London early next week, having finally found an appropriate, and apparently beautiful, villa on the promontory at Cap Martin. It was near Roquebrune, on the way to the Italian border, and according to the preponderance of adjectives she had used to describe it, the house was nothing short of a palace, set in spacious and exquisite grounds which she said were out of this world. It overlooked the Mediterranean, had its own private beach, a swimming pool and a tennis court. She had already signed the lease and was staying on to interview the present staff, who were available if she wished to engage them for the summer. Doris had rented the villa from a French industrialist for four months, from June through September, and she ended the letter with a reiteration of the generous invitation she had extended previously to himself and his children. They were welcome to spend as much of the summer at the villa as they wished.

David put the letter down and stood up, walking over to the fireplace in long, easy strides. Tall, ramrod straight and elegant, he was proud of his bearing and, at forty-seven, was amazingly youthful looking. His features, typically Anglo-Saxon, were sensitive and refined, his grey eyes eloquent, his complexion fair, as was his hair. He was a handsome man, and he held great appeal for women, who thought his appearance not only romantic but dashing as well. Consequently, he was in constant demand socially, and had he been less moral and discriminating he could easily have been a Lothario of no mean proportions. As it was, his fastidious nature prevented him from taking advantage of the opportunities which were for ever presenting themselves, and he never indulged in random love affairs.

He stood in front of the fireplace, absently staring at the wall of books opposite, thinking about Doris. She had wrought many changes in his life, all for the better, as he was the first to acknowledge. She had given him a rare type of companionship he had not experienced with any other woman since his wife’s death, and a great deal of understanding, devotion, love, and physical pleasure as well. He had come to rely on her constant presence. In fact, he had to admit Doris was now quite indispensable to him. He was not naïve enough to think this circumstance had developed by accident, knowing perfectly well that Doris had diligently set out to make herself wanted and needed. But he did not consider it devious. Every woman strove to weave a web around the man she loved, in an effort to bind him to her irrevocably.

David knew he should marry Doris. He would be a fool not to, and, in fact, he wanted to marry her. Yet he continued to procrastinate, and he was not exactly certain why he did so. She had all the right qualities, at least those he thought were important in a woman, and she would make a superb wife for him. His own feelings aside, his children approved and had a genuine fondness for her. And, of course, there was her money, which would solve his financial difficulties once and for all. Doris, the thirty-five-year-old widow of an American meat-packing tycoon, was childless, and she made it abundantly clear to him that her immense fortune would be at his disposal if they married. But David Cunningham was not the kind of man who could be influenced by money when it came to the serious business of marriage. In his lexicon this was the least of all considerations. Love and compatibility took precedence with him. Well, he did love Doris, and they were inordinately compatible. But …

The door of the book-lined library was open, and David heard Francesca’s quick light step in the hall. He hurried to the door and looked out. ‘Good morning, my dear.’ There was a lilt in his voice and his eyes instantly brightened.

‘Good morning, Daddy darling,’ she responded and, smiling, reached up to kiss his cheek.

The Earl hugged her to him, and then he stood back. ‘Feeling patriotic today, are you, Frankie?’

Francesca looked at her father nonplussed. He was regarding her with fondness, his eyes twinkling. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked with a slight frown.

‘The colour scheme you’ve adopted this morning.’ His glance swept over her again. ‘Borrowed from the Union Jack, wouldn’t you say?’

Francesca laughed, and swinging around she looked at herself in the mirror, her head on one side. She was wearing a new white cotton shirt, her best navy-blue Jaeger skirt and a navy-blue melton-cloth reefer jacket. ‘I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration,’ she retorted mildly, but nevertheless she unfastened the red-white-and-blue silk scarf tied around her neck and pushed it into her jacket pocket. She turned back to her father. ‘Is that better?’ she asked. Her father’s taste in women’s clothes ran to the subdued, even the dowdy at times, and she knew it was the vivid scarf to which he objected. ‘I just thought the dash of colour would cheer up my outfit,’ she said.

‘You don’t need anything to cheer up your clothes. Your face inevitably does that.’ His smile was tender as he went on, ‘And where are you off to at this hour?’

‘The British Museum.’

‘Ah, yes indeed. Gordon beckons, I’ve no doubt.’ The Earl half turned and stepped into the library. He said, ‘I’d like to talk to you, Frankie, if you can spare me a few minutes.’

‘Why yes, of course I can, Daddy.’

‘Then come in and close the door behind you. I think a little privacy is in order.’

Francesca did as he asked, her gaze resting on him, her face sobering. The seriousness of his tone alarmed her, and she thought: Oh God, there’s trouble brewing. Being extremely close to her father and attuned to his moods, she invariably anticipated him, and she was positive he could only want to talk to her about one of two things: Kim or money. Probably the latter, she said to herself, eyeing the bills and the chequebook on the desk. Suddenly she felt selfish and guilty. Here she was, probably wasting her time researching a book that might never get written, when she could be earning money. Maybe she ought to get a job to help out. But deciding this was not the time to suggest it, she said, ‘You seem awfully worried, Daddy. Is there something wrong? Is it money?’

‘That’s always a problem, my dear. But somehow we always seem to manage, don’t we?’ He did not wait for her response. ‘However, I didn’t bring you in here to talk about the monthly accounts. Actually, I wanted to discuss this new development with you.’

Francesca tensed and her eyes were watchful. ‘New development?’ she echoed. ‘I’m not sure I know what you mean.’

‘Come, come, Frankie, don’t hedge. You’re talking to me. You know perfectly well I’m referring to Kim and Katharine.’

She accepted the gentle reprimand in silence, playing for time. The silence grew, hung between them. The Earl studied his daughter keenly. Finally, he said, ‘I presume your lack of response is an acknowledgement of the facts. I also presume you know Kim is very serious about this girl.’

Realizing she could not remain mute indefinitely, Francesca thought the safest thing would be to repeat Kim’s words to her. ‘Well, Daddy, I’m not sure serious is the right word, but I do think he’s quite keen.’

The Earl laughed knowingly. ‘That’s undoubtedly the understatement of the year! Your brother is madly in love. Even a blind man would know that.’ He leaned forward over the desk. His cool grey eyes, which had narrowed perceptibly, were fixed unblinkingly on his daughter. He asked quietly, ‘And what is your opinion of Katharine, Frankie?’

Francesca’s face lit up at once. ‘I like her enormously! In fact, I took to her the instant I met her. I think she’s a super girl. And to tell you the truth, I thought you did, Daddy. On Monday evening you seemed … well, enchanted, if you don’t mind me saying so.’ Her words held a challenge, as did her gaze.

‘You’re absolutely correct, I was,’ the Earl conceded evenly. ‘Katharine has a variety of assets, all of them most apparent, so I won’t waste time enumerating them. And she is quite the lady –’

‘Well, then,’ Francesca interrupted swiftly, her brows lifting expressively, ‘why are you so perturbed?’

David ignored this pointed question by saying, ‘What do you actually know about her, my dear?’

Francesca was startled. ‘Haven’t you talked to Kim about Katharine? I think it’s his place to tell you about his new girl friend, not mine, don’t you?’

‘Indeed I do, darling. And I have spoken to him. Unfortunately he was extremely vague, even a little evasive. To be frank, I decided not to press him for the time being. I felt it would be wiser not to make too much of a fuss, since that would only give the matter tremendous importance in his mind. On the other hand, because I believe he has serious intentions, I do think I should know more about the girl he is apparently thinking of marrying. I intend to have a heart-to-heart talk with Kim when we get back to Langley, but, in the meantime, I thought you might be able to give me a few more facts.’ He waited, and then observing the expression on her face, he added gently, ‘You think I’m putting you in an awkward position, I know, but I’m not really. It was I who brought you up to have a sense of honour, to be loyal, so I would certainly never ask you to betray a confidence. Still, under the circumstances, I don’t think it would be disloyal to Kim if you repeat what he’s told you, or what Katharine has said about herself. I’m hardly asking you to divulge state secrets,’ he finished with a soft chuckle.

Francesca stared down at her hands. Everything her father said made sense. Surely there was no harm in telling him what she knew. It was then she realized, and with a little stab of dismay, that there was hardly anything to repeat. ‘Kim hasn’t confided in me, and neither was Katharine,’ she answered. ‘To tell you the truth, now that I think about it, she hasn’t said much about her life. Here or in America.’

‘I see,’ said David, masking his surprise. He looked at her clear and lovely face, the candid gaze, and he knew she was being her usual truthful self. Until this moment he had been convinced his daughter would be able to enlighten him. She and Kim were extremely close. Obviously she had been kept in the dark. Very curious indeed. Then he wondered why.

Francesca volunteered, ‘I understand from Kim that Katharine comes from Chicago, and that she’s an orphan, poor girl.’

‘Yes, he told me that too. He also mentioned she went to school here and afterwards attended RADA.’ The Earl shook his head in bemusement. ‘Not much to go on, is it?’

‘No,’ Francesca agreed. It struck her how foolish Kim had been. He should have adopted a more direct approach with their father, instead of being close-mouthed, secretive. His posture, so silly and unnecessary, had precipitated an unfortunate situation, one which could only end up being troublesome.

‘Do you think she has any family at all?’ the Earl asked.

‘I don’t think so –’ Francesca bit off her sentence and shook her head. ‘I shouldn’t say that, because actually I don’t really know,’ she corrected herself.

David Cunningham stared across the room, his eyes focused on an antique hunting print, a preoccupied expression on his face. After a few seconds, he swung his head to face Francesca. ‘Look here, dear, I’m not passing any judgments on Katharine, nor am I out to create undue problems for Kim. God knows, I have his well being and happiness at heart. And believe me, as of this moment, I don’t have strong objections to the girl. I’m sure she is most admirable, and she might be ideal for him. But, as Kim’s father, I feel I am entitled to some information about Katharine’s background. It’s not much to ask, is it?’

‘No, Daddy,’ Francesca said, understanding his concern. He was being much more reasonable than she had originally anticipated. Voicing the one thing which had chiefly worried her, she ventured tentatively, ‘Then you don’t mind that she’s an actress?’

‘I’m not that old fashioned, my dear,’ David exclaimed with a faint chuckle. ‘And times have changed. Naturally, I would have preferred Kim to have fallen in love with a girl from his own world, but I can’t control his emotions, now can I?’

‘No, I don’t suppose you can.’

‘And anyway, if she and Kim do marry, she would automatically give up her acting career. She would have to, and I hope Kim has made that clear to her.’ David rested his elbows on the desk and brought the tips of his fingers together to form a steeple. He peered over them, and asked, ‘Do you think Tempest is Katharine’s real name; or one she adopted for the stage? I must say, it struck me as being rather theatrical.’

‘Theatrical! How can you say that, Dad? What about your old friend, Lord Londonderry? His family name is Tempest. Well, anyway, Tempest Stewart.’

‘Hmmm. Quite so. However, you haven’t answered my question. Do you think it’s her real name?’

‘I’ve no way of knowing. Why?’

‘Doris comes from Chicago –’

‘I thought she came from Oklahoma.’

‘She does, but after her marriage to Edgar Asternan she moved to Chicago, his home town, and lived there for many years. I Katharine’s family was a prominent one, I’m sure Doris would have been acquainted with them. Certainly she would have heard of them, since she was very social and involved in numerous civic activities. It occurred to me she might be able to give me a few salient facts.’

‘Yes, she might.’ Francesca stood up and walked to the window. She glanced out, her mind on Kim. He really was impossible at times. And so thoughtless. Her father had enough worries without this problem to add to his burdens. Poor Dad, he really is troubled, she thought. She turned and said impulsively, ‘Perhaps you ought to ’phone Doris right now. You never know, Daddy, she might be able to put your mind at rest immediately. After all, it is a small world.’

‘No, darling, I don’t think I will. I’ll wait until Doris gets back next week, and discuss it with her then. I don’t believe there’s that much of a panic.’

‘You know best, Dad. And please don’t worry. I’m sure Doris can check out Katharine for you, just like that.’ She snapped her fingers, and her smile was reassuring.

‘Good Lord, Frankie, I don’t want to check the girl out, as you seem to infer! Turn her inside out and upside down! That would be perfectly reprehensible.’ The Earl was genuinely shocked at the suggestion, and went on, ‘As I said, I merely want to know more about her, and her family. Background. That sort of thing. Just the usual sort of information a father likes to have, before he sanctions a serious relationship. Actually, I’m willing to give them my blessing, you know, providing I’m satisfied Katharine is everything she appears to be.’

Francesca went to her father. Impulsively, she threw her arms around him, and said, her cheek against his, ‘Kim and I are lucky to have you as a father.’

‘And I’m lucky to have the two of you,’ David said warmly. ‘Certainly neither of you has ever caused me any trouble.’ He looked up at her and grinned boyishly. ‘But then I haven’t given you any either. I’ve never curtailed your activities or poked around in your lives. In fact, I think I’ve always given you a lot of rope. Because I trust you both implicitly. That’s why I can’t understand Kim’s attitude at all.’ He half-smiled at Francesca. ‘I’ve brought you and Kim up to take people at face value, to accept them for their worth on a human level, and not to be influenced by money or power or more worldly things, and I know I was right to do that. At the same time, I expect you both to have common sense, exercise judgment and discretion, and select friends who are at least appropriate –’

‘Don’t you think Katharine is appropriate?’ Francesca interrupted, her eyes clouding over.

‘How can I possibly know that, Frankie? On the surface, yes, I would say she appears to be appropriate. But no adult ever comes to us like a newborn babe, without a history, a past. And since I have no knowledge of Katharine’s upbringing, I can hardly make a proper assessment of her, decide whether or not she is suitable for Kim. As a wife that is. I don’t have to remind you of his responsibilities, I know that. On the other hand, have you thought of what Katharine’s life would be like if she married Kim? She would be buried in the country most of the year; a farmer’s wife, albeit a farmer’s wife with a title, and country living is hardly the most exciting existence, my darling, as well you know. It’s never been your cup of tea. And then again, there are all the duties and responsibilities she would have to take on, with the estate workers, the villagers, the Women’s Voluntary Service, not to mention our rather demanding vicar. Think of the church activities alone – garden fêtes, bazaars, jumble sales, the Harvest Festival, the Christmas festivities, and so many more endless tasks. More importantly, perhaps, does Katharine know what marriage to Kim really entails?’ David shook his head and did not wait for her reply. ‘I doubt it. I’m sure Kim hasn’t bothered to explain the ramifications of his life, just as he hasn’t sought to find out more about her. Personally, I think he’s so damned infatuated he hasn’t given a passing thought to these things. Probably thinks they’re irrelevant and far too mundane. But they’re not. They’re an integral part of his life, as my son and heir. They’re his duty,’ he concluded with a sigh. As an after-thought, he added, ‘You know, he’s been bowled over by Katharine’s looks, and his head is in the clouds. You saw how he behaved at Les Ambassadeurs the other night. He’s quite hypnotized by her. You do agree with that, at least, don’t you, Frankie dear?’

‘I … I … suppose you’re right.’

David adopted a milder tone. ‘I had hoped we were close enough, that you and Kim both trusted me enough, to be open with me, to seek my guidance on important matters in your lives. I thought you knew I would always be fair, and certainly most understanding.’

‘I do know that, Daddy, and so does Kim. Really and truly we do!’ she protested.

David looked at his daughter closely. ‘I don’t want you to misunderstand me, Frankie. I’m not trying to play God in your lives. It’s hardly a role I relish, and it invariably creates havoc. However, although I’m not infallible, I have had some experience of life, and I want you both to have the benefit of the bit of wisdom I’ve acquired, for what it’s worth.’ He paused. ‘I’ll tell you something else. Years ago I vowed I would never make the same mistake my father did.’

Francesca’s eyes strayed to the photograph of her father’s older sister. ‘You’re thinking of Aunt Arabella, aren’t you, Dad?’

David followed her gaze, directed at the photograph of his sister, taken when she had been presented at court. He nodded. ‘Yes, I am. As you know, your grandfather objected to Kurt von Wittingen most strongly, even though he was a prince and wealthy, because he was a German. Yet Arabella married him anyway. Father lived to regret his decision, even though he never came out and actually said so. I believe it broke his heart, never seeing her again.’ Yes, it truly did, he added to himself. If only the old man had been less obdurate, more reasonable, I know she would not have acted so rashly. That’s a family trait, rashness in the face of opposition, he thought. And Kim’s inherited Arabella’s impetuousness. ‘I’m sorry, Frankie, I missed what you just said. Wool gathering, I’m afraid,’ he apologized.

‘I said it was a very tragic story … Arabella’s and Kurt’s. But still, because of them we do have Diana and Christian, don’t we?’

‘We certainly do, my darling. And that reminds me, I had a letter from Diana just last week. From Königssee. Christian and she want to come over and spend a few weeks with us this summer. I hope you’ll make it a point to be at Langley when they’re there.’

‘Gosh, Daddy, you know I wouldn’t miss their visit for anything,’ she cried. Francesca had always been especially close to her German cousins, who made frequent trips to England and spent many holidays at Langley. She squeezed her father’s arm affectionately. ‘It will be lovely to see them.’ Her face became intent. ‘I know I haven’t really been very helpful about Katharine. But I’m absolutely certain everything’s going to be fine. I know it is.’

‘I hope so, my dear.’

Francesca looked at her watch. ‘Oh, it’s getting late. I must get to the Museum. You don’t mind if I scoot off, do you?’

‘No, my dear, you run along. Incidentally, any instructions for Mrs Moggs?’

Francesca laughed at his pained expression. ‘No, I left a note for her in the kitchen. I’m sorry you have to cope with her this morning. She’s a holy terror, but she does mean well. If I were you, I’d do a disappearing act as soon as you can, then she won’t be able to boss you around.’ Francesca leaned forward and kissed him. ‘Have a nice day, and I’ll see you tonight for dinner.’

‘I’m looking forward to it, darling.’

After Francesca had left for the British Museum, David sat debating with himself about the best course of action to take. Being a man of integrity and decency, he was reluctant to make pointed inquiries about Katharine Tempest. It was abhorrent to him. It smacked of prying, the worst type of spying and infringement of personal privacy. It also showed lack of trust in Kim’s judgment, and anyway, he would much prefer to hear the facts about Katharine from his son, and not indirectly. And yet … David shook his head in aggravation. It was precisely Kim’s behaviour which was causing him to view the situation with a degree of alarm. Until his talk with Francesca, he had believed Kim’s vagueness to be evasiveness, a defence mechanism induced by the resentment he felt because he thought he was being treated like a child. Sadly, David now acknowledged, Kim had been vague because he knew next to nothing about the girl with whom he was so infatuated. It was most apparent to David that Kim had no information because the girl herself had not been forthcoming.

People in love invariably confided in each other, and talked about their past, didn’t they? Unless … Unless they had something to hide. Did Katharine have something to hide? He told himself this was a stupid, even insane, idea, and hardly worthy of protracted consideration. After all, he had been impressed with Katharine. He understood the reasons for his son’s enthralment, and so he had not given much thought to her background until last night, after his frustrating talk with Kim. The boy had been unable to answer the simplest and most innocent of questions, to David’s utter amazement. Since then he had been looking for flaws in her. The trouble was he had found none. Katharine Tempest seemed to be perfect in every way.

Unexpectedly, as he was pondering her attributes, a thought hit him. That was it. She was far too perfect. Obviously the girl could not help her staggering beauty, that was nature’s doing, and her undeniable talent for acting was another of God’s generous gifts. But what about her personality, her immense charm and her exquisite manners? Had they perhaps been consciously distilled over the years? he wondered. Another disturbing thought crept into his mind: Katharine was uncommonly smooth for her age. She had none of the rough edges of youth. His own children had pleasant personalities, self-confidence and lovely manners, but occasionally they displayed a naïveté, and yes, even a certain gaucheness at times, traits quite natural in view of their youth. She is awfully smooth, he decided, and also a shade too mysterious.

Damnation! he cursed inwardly. I wish there was someone I could talk to about this, someone a little more mature than my darling Frankie, who’s obviously prejudiced about Katharine anyhow. Doris. Of course, Doris. There was no one better equipped to listen than she, and she was sincere and wise and down-to-earth, amongst other things. David picked up the telephone. He dialled the operator, gave her the number of the Hôtel de Paris in Monte Carlo, and waited.

‘Madame Asternan, s’il vous plaît,’ he said, when the hotel finally answered.

A moment later Doris’s sleepy voice was murmuring hello.

‘Good morning, Doris. It’s David. I hope I didn’t awaken you, my dear.’

‘Yes, you did,’ she laughed. ‘But that’s all right. I can’t think of a nicer way to be awakened. How are you, darling?’

‘I’m fine. I had your letter this morning, and I’m delighted about the house.’

‘Oh David, the Villa Zamir is perfectly divine! You’re going to love it, and so are Francesca and Kim.’

‘I’m sure we will.’ He smiled to himself. Doris might be a millionairess, but she was the least jaded person he knew. Her enthusiasm and gaiety and zest for life invariably lifted his spirits. ‘I can’t wait to see it. In the meantime, I also called to ask you something, so I’ll get straight to the point. Have you heard of a family in Chicago called Tempest?’

‘No, no, I don’t think I have,’ Doris said hesitantly. After a brief pause, whilst she obviously pondered on it, she said more positively, ‘I’m sure I haven’t. I would have remembered the name. It’s quite unusual. Anyway, why do you want to know, darling?’

‘Apparently Kim has been seeing a girl for a number of months. She’s from Chicago and her name is Tempest.’ He then proceeded to tell her about his concern, and the reasons for it.

Doris listened carefully. When he had finished, she asked, ‘Do you really believe Kim wants to marry her, David?’ her tone alert.

‘Yes, I do. And since he’s almost twenty-two he doesn’t need my permission. Whilst I don’t want to play the heavy Victorian father, I don’t want him to make a mistake either. A mistake he’ll regret.’ He sighed heavily. ‘Maybe I’m wrong, but I find it damned peculiar he knows so little about the girl and –’

‘So do I,’ Doris broke in. ‘You knew my entire life story within a week of meeting me.’

‘Yes, and you knew mine,’ he answered, gratified that she confirmed his own opinion.

‘Listen, I have an idea. Why don’t you talk to the girl herself?’ Doris suggested. ‘Ask her to fill you in about her background.’

David drew in his breath sharply. ‘Oh, I couldn’t do that, Doris. At least not yet. I’ve only just met her. It would be frightfully bad form, poor taste, and besides –’

‘Good heavens, David, you English never cease to astound me. Here you are worried to death, or at least you sound as if you are, and you talk to me about bad form. To hell with bad form! If the girl is intelligent she’ll understand your reasons.’

‘Yes, there’s some truth in what you say, but to be honest, I don’t want to precipitate anything at this moment, and I certainly don’t want to give the relationship too much importance in their eyes.’

‘But, David darling, it’s obviously important in your mind.’

‘Well, yes it is. But I don’t want Kim to know I take the relationship seriously. Oh, hell, Doris, I’m not making any sense at all, am I?’

‘Yes, you are. To me at any rate. You think that by simply ignoring the romance it might easily fizzle out. Whereas if you start asking too many questions, giving it credence, they’ll start to view it in a different light themselves. That’s what you mean, isn’t it, darling?’

‘Yes, Doris. As usual, you’re right on target. Parental interference and pressure often cause two people to draw closer together than they otherwise might. Fighting the world, so to speak.’ He rubbed his chin and exclaimed impatiently, ‘Oh, Christ, Doris, maybe I’m blowing this whole thing out of proportion!’

‘Yes, you could be, darling,’ she said. ‘And you know what young people are like. They’re madly in love one day, and can’t stand the sight of each other the next. They blow hot and cold with comparative ease. I realize you believe Kim has serious intentions, but he hasn’t actually announced them to you, has he?’

‘No,’ David admitted. But he’s going to, he thought.

‘Then in my opinion I think you should play it cool. Ignore the whole thing for the time being. Let it run its course. Kim might change his mind. Or the girl might,’ Doris soothed. Then she asked curiously, ‘By the way, what’s she like, the mysterious young lady from Chicago.’

‘Rather lovely, to be truthful. It’s easy to see why the boy’s smitten. Francesca also seems very sold on her, and I was quite impressed with Katharine myself. She’s certainly an unusual girl, I’ll say that.’

There was a silence at the other end of the telephone and then Doris said slowly, ‘Wait a minute, David, you’re not talking about Katharine Tempest, the young actress, are you? The girl in the Greek play in the West End?’

‘Yes, I am. I say, do you know her after all, Doris?’ His hopes soared.

‘No, afraid not, darling. But she was pointed out to me in the Mirabelle last summer. Stunning girl, I must agree with you there. I didn’t know she was an American, and from Chicago no less …’ Doris hesitated, and then said, with a laugh, ‘I can tell you one thing, darling, she’s as Irish as Paddy’s pig.’

‘What on earth do you mean?’

‘The dark hair, the white skin, the bluer-than-blue eyes. She’s very Irish looking, David. I remember thinking that last summer in the restaurant.’

‘How can you be so certain?’

‘I’ve met enough of the Irish in Chicago to recognize that look of theirs. The women in particular are often extraordinary beauties.’ She chuckled. ‘The men aren’t that bad either.’

‘Then she’s probably a Roman Catholic.’

‘Does that matter, David?’ There was a startled echo in her voice.

‘No, I don’t suppose it does, although we’ve always been a Protestant family –’ His voice trailed off lamely. He regretted the comment. He found religious and racial prejudice intolerable in others. He hoped Doris did not misunderstand him.

Before he got a chance to clarify himself, Doris exclaimed, ‘Look here, cheer up, darling. I’ll be back in a couple of days and we can discuss this further. In the meantime –’ She stopped and, after a moment, went on carefully, ‘I almost hesitate to suggest this, because I know prying is not your style, but if you want me to, I’ll make a couple of calls to Chicago. I might be able to find out something about the Tempest family. Discreetly of course, without mentioning your name, or involving you.’

‘No, I don’t think that’s necessary, Doris. Thanks anyway. If Kim ever discovered we’d done such a thing, he’d be hurt and furious, and understandably so. And you’re right, it’s not to my taste at all. However I will take your advice and let sleeping dogs lie for the time being. Kim and I will be at Langley together for several weeks, and I’m sure I’ll get an opportunity to go over this with him.’ He paused to light a cigarette, then dashed on, ‘Actually, if anyone asks any questions about the Tempest family, it should be Kim. And of Katharine, don’t you think?’

‘Yes, I do, darling, and please don’t worry so much.’

‘No, I won’t. I feel better now that I’ve talked to you. Thanks for listening, Doris.’ His voice dropped, became more intimate and tender. ‘Incidentally, for what it’s worth, I’ve missed you, my darling.’

‘That’s worth a lot to me, you silly man!’

They talked for a few minutes longer, said fond goodbyes, and hung up. The smile she had brought to his eyes lingered there for a moment. Doris had the marvellous ability to allay his anxieties, whatever they might be. Perhaps she was right, too, about Kim and Katharine. Maybe it was merely a youthful infatuation which would soon cool off. Not only that, he was taking Katharine and the children to dinner tomorrow evening. With a bit of luck he might glean more information, especially if he formulated his questions skilfully.

‘Good morning, your grace.’

David looked up quickly, startled to see Mrs Moggs, their daily, hovering in the doorway. He had not heard her come into the house. ‘Good morning, Mrs Moggs,’ he said wondering where on earth she had found her extraordinary hat. It was an exotic creation trimmed with poppies and cornflowers. He then remembered it had been a Christmas present from Francesca, one of her more exuberant flights of fancy into millinery design. He had made unflattering remarks about it at the time, but apparently Mrs Moggs adored it.

‘Now, your grace, ’ow about a nice steaming ’ot pot of tea?’ Mrs Moggs suggested, still loitering in the doorway.

‘No, thank you. I’ve had my morning tea, Mrs Moggs.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Er … er … Mrs Moggs, I hope you don’t mind me mentioning this again, but one only addresses a duke as your grace.’

‘Dukes, earls, viscounts, marquesses, lords, barons, they’re all the same to me, your grace, if you don’t mind me saying so,’ she beamed. ‘Fair makes your blinking head swim, it does, having to call ’em all by different things, as I was saying to my Albert the other day. An’ my Albert says –’

‘Quite so, Mrs Moggs,’ David murmured hurriedly. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I have some paperwork to finish.’

She beamed at him again, hitched her shopping bag onto her arm, and then did a little pirouette and disappeared. He shook his head in exasperation, but nevertheless a smile of amusement flew across his face. Mrs Moggs was impossible, and an infernal nuisance, always ‘popping in’ as she called it, when he was deep in work. But Francesca thought she was marvellous and continually refused to get rid of her. How fortunate he was in having Francesca. She had turned out very well, that girl, and he had no doubts about her.

He pulled his address book towards him, found Giles Martin’s number in Yorkshire and dialled it, ready to start haggling about the price of the two prize heifers.