A Life of Secrets
Page 31
He decided to wait for the promised letter before explaining to the Colonel what had happened. Evan suddenly realised this golden opportunity could mean him losing touch with Geraldine! Would the only way he would ever see her be when he was speaking on behalf of the union, and then only from the platform? The dismay that flooded him was startling in its strength.
But didn’t this offer change everything? With the possibility of a political career opening up, he would no longer feel hesitant to reveal his feelings. He could volunteer to help the Colonel with the railway layout in his own time, and if Geraldine happened to visit …
Evan finished his drink, and threading his way past a group of men at the bar, couldn’t wait to return to Greenwich and share his good news. He grinned, thinking how proud Aunt Bronwen would be when a letter from the House of Commons came through the letter box.
The following day, Theo and Deborah were relaxing in the morning room with the newspapers, when their new butler came in. ‘There is a telephone call for you, sir.’
Theo rose and followed him into the hall. ‘Do you know when the other extensions will be installed?’
‘I believe it will be next week, sir.’
Within minutes Theo came to rejoin Deborah. ‘That was Gerard. Robbie is back with the laundress.’
Deborah, who had refused any contact with her brother, was elated but wary. ‘How can we be sure he’s telling us the truth?’
‘Because he has nothing to gain by lying.’ Theo smiled at her. ‘I won’t sit down, darling, I need to look through some papers before I leave for the House.’
Deborah leant back and closed her eyes. There had never been a time, not even during loss, grief and the shock of discovering her pregnancy, when she’d been in such anguish. She’d spent hours wrestling with the problem of Robbie’s future. She’d tried to ignore her own needs, instead concentrating on what would be best for her child. Because there was no escaping the word bastard. So she had shared a night of love with a brave man before he returned to fight for his country. Why was that considered so shameful, so wrong? And yet the world would stigmatise Robbie, the innocent child of that union. He’d probably been told that his father was killed in the war – true – and believed Myrtle Waters, who would undoubtedly have worn a ring on her third finger, to be his mother. So far he would have escaped that slur. But now it was up to herself, his real mother, to protect him.
Theo, bless him, had gently refused to discuss the matter. ‘I don’t want to influence you in even the slightest way. Whatever you plan to do, you know I’ll support you.’
Deborah only knew that her love for Theo grew with every passing day. Yet she was acutely aware of what Robbie’s permanent presence in their home would mean for her husband’s political career. He would become the victim of whispers of ridicule and scandal, which was bound to affect his ambition to rise higher in government. Had she married him only to his detriment?
She longed with every inch of her being to have her young son with her, to make up for all those years of loss. Yet didn’t Robbie have one other living relative? Someone who had every right to know of his existence. Could this prove to be the ideal solution? Deborah wasn’t sure. But now that Robbie was within reach, it was time to explore the possibility.
‘I’ll be late this evening,’ Theo said as later he came in to kiss her goodbye. ‘There’s an urgent debate in the House.’
She smiled at him. ‘Take care, my love.’
A few minutes later Deborah went up to their bedroom and to her dressing table to take from a drawer the small leather box she sought. Once back in the morning room, she slowly opened it to gaze down at Philippe’s signet ring with its family crest. Memories came flooding back, of how he had talked of his happy childhood at the chateau, with his beloved dog and horse. And how close he had been to his mother.
Now seated before the escritoire, Deborah drew towards her a sheet of headed writing paper and, taking the top off her fountain pen, began to write.
Dear Madame Lapierre …
Five years later …
Madame Lapierre, an elegant Frenchwoman in her early fifties, had welcomed her unknown grandson with open arms. She vaguely explained his sudden appearance, Robbie’s strong resemblance to Philippe preventing further questioning. Twelve months later she confirmed him as her legal heir.
Robbie, known now as Robert, is happy, fluent in French, and the proud owner of a chestnut mare and his own dog. Deborah now owns a house in France, and on the pretext of being a friend of his grandmother, is able to see him quite often. The question of whether she will ever admit the truth is one she still hasn’t resolved.
Evan, eventually selected as a candidate in a Midlands constituency, won his seat with an outstanding majority. He and Geraldine were married three years earlier.
Theo’s political career flourishes. He has recently been appointed as Home Secretary, the youngest man since Winston Churchill ever to hold such a prestigious position.
Elspeth, with a capable assistant, continues to successfully run the agency, and she and Deborah remain in regular contact.
Deborah, blissfully happy in her marriage, is the loving mother of twin daughters and expecting her third baby. She goes occasionally to Grosvenor Square to take coffee with Julia, but apart from unavoidable social proximity, Deborah has determined never to speak to Gerard again.
Gerard remains childless.
Acknowledgements
First and foremost, my gratitude to my brilliant critique group for their perceptions when we meet each week overlooking the sea in Eastbourne. Our shared bond of writing and literature has led to much-valued friendships.
And as always to my loyal writing friend in Leicester, Biddy Nelson. To my lovely agent Ros Edwards, of the Edwards Fuglewicz Literary Agency, whose support means so much.
And my special appreciation to the excellent publishing team at Allison & Busby.
We hope you enjoyed this book.
Do you want to know about our other great reads, download free extracts and enter competitions?
If so, visit our website www.allisonandbusby.com.
Sign up to our monthly newsletter (www.allisonandbusby.com/newsletter) for exclusive content and offers, news of our brand new releases, upcoming events with your favourite authors and much more.
And why not click to follow us on Facebook (AllisonandBusbyBooks)
and Twitter (@AllisonandBusby)?
We’d love to hear from you!
ALSO BY MARGARET KAINE
Sent to the workhouse as a child, all Ella Hathaway can remember is a voice whispering, ‘Dearie, promise you will never forget what you saw. Your ma was killed deliberate … and someone oughter pay for it.’
When young, wealthy spinster Letitia Fairchild witnesses Ella being ill-treated, she takes her in as a scullery maid. But as Ella grows up, she is determined to find the truth about her mother’s tragic death and appeals to Letitia for help, revealing to her the contents of her only personal possession: a black silk purse. Intrigued, Letitia agrees to begin a quest to solve the mystery of Ella’s past. But neither could have imagined the astonishing and dramatic consequences.
About the Author
Born and educated in Stoke-on-Trent, Margaret Kaine now lives in Eastbourne. A Life of Secrets is her third romantic historical novel set in the early twentieth century, following publication of The Black Silk Purse. Her debut novel, Ring of Clay, won the RNA New Writer’s Award and the Society of Authors’ Sagittarius Prize and was followed by a further six bestselling sagas set in the Potteries.
margaretkaine.com
@MargaretKaine
By Margaret Kaine
The Black Silk Purse
A Life of Secrets
Copyright
Allison & Busby Limited
11 Wardour Mews
London W1F 8AN
allisonandbusby.com
First published in Great Britain by Allison & Busby in 2020.
This ebo
ok edition published in Great Britain by Allison & Busby in 2020.
Copyright © 2020 by Margaret Kaine
The moral right of the author is hereby asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent buyer.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978–0–7490–2499–4