Emma's Secret

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Emma's Secret Page 46

by Barbara Taylor Bradford


  Paula shook her head. ‘I want to keep this very quiet. Linnet will know next week, once Uncle Robin has spoken to Jonathan. Do you understand?’

  ‘I understand.’

  Paula rose and went over to her desk, took out the bundle of letters tied with blue ribbon. ‘These are for you, Evan dear,’ she said, returning to the sofa, handing them to her. ‘Your grandmother’s letters.’

  Evan took them from her, and walked across the room. She paused at the door, and said, ‘Thank you for these. And I’d like to meet my grandfather this weekend. Do you think that’s possible?’

  Paula looked across at her, frowning, and then exclaimed, ‘I don’t see why not. I’ll phone him.’

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Evan sat waiting for Paula in the Stone Hall. She felt a little anxious about the meeting with Robin Ainsley, which was due to take place in less than an hour. She glanced at the tall grandfather clock in one corner, saw that it was almost ten. She knew that Paula would arrive at any moment, to drive her over to Lackland Priory where he lived.

  Last night, just before dinner, Paula had drawn her aside, and told her in a low voice that Uncle Robin had agreed to meet her on Saturday morning. She had worried about it all night, worried mostly about their reaction to each other; but she had also worried about what to wear, wanting to make the right impression.

  This morning she had dressed in a beige trouser suit with a cream silk shirt, deciding it was casual enough for the country but a little bit smarter than a skirt and sweater, which she had originally been going to wear. A pair of gold shrimp earrings and her watch were her only pieces of jewellery, but she had tied a beige, red and blue Hermes silk scarf around her neck.

  Last night, after reading many of her grandmother’s letters to Emma Harte written over the years, she had understood so much. At first, when Paula had told her about Glynnis and Robin yesterday afternoon, she had been upset. But in the middle of the night, she had come to love her grandmother more than ever. For as she had read the letters she had begun to realize what a good person Glynnis had been, a truly kind and generous woman who had not wanted to hurt anybody in any way whatsoever.

  Seemingly, when Robin had rejected her during the war, she had stepped away from him, and with dignity. And she had been honest and open with Richard Hughes, had told him the truth. The letters had been poignant, happy, sad, positive, optimistic. Seemingly, her grandmother had run the gamut of emotions over the years. But one thing was certain, she had managed to live her life to the fullest and without regret. And she had remained devoted to Emma Harte until her death.

  There had been a moment during the night when Evan had almost picked up the phone to call her father, but then she had decided against it. She wanted to meet his father first, give Robin the once over before telling Owen anything at all about these new developments. Another thing had shone through the letters most forcefully, and that was Glynnis’s devotion to Richard Hughes. Theirs had been a very successful and happy marriage, and Evan was glad of that. But she had known this anyway, hadn’t she? Certainly they had never been anything but serene with each other in front of her, and Glynnis had told her so many times how important compatibility was in a marriage, as well as love.

  In one of the letters her grandmother had discussed money with Emma, and now Evan knew where that large legacy had come from originally. Emma Harte had sent money to Glynnis for many years, and Glynnis had saved most of it and rather frugally so, rarely spending anything unless it was really necessary. Apparently Richard had insisted on supporting Owen, whom he considered to be his son, and he had done so with a great deal of pleasure and gratification.

  There were still a number of letters to read, and she planned to look at them this afternoon. In the meantime, she would soon meet her biological grandfather. She took a deep breath and stood up as Paula O’Neill came down the stairs, greeting her with, ‘Good morning, Evan.’

  ‘Good morning, Mrs. O’Neill.’

  Paula laughed as she came to a standstill next to Evan, and took hold of her arm, kissed her cheek. ‘I think it might be a good idea for you to call me Paula, since it turns out we’re related. I’ve been trying to figure it all out, and you’re my cousin several times removed. I think.’ She laughed again.

  ‘I was trying to do the same, Mrs. O’Neill, I mean Paula, but it’s been quite a lot for me to absorb since yesterday afternoon.’

  ‘I know it has, Evan. Come on, we can talk as we drive over to Uncle Robin’s.’

  They walked out of the Stone Hall together, and went around to the kitchen side of the house to the back yard, where the garages were located. Evan waited in the cobbled yard while Paula drove the car out of the garage, and then she got in, saying as she did, ‘I read a lot of Grandmother’s letters last night, in fact, I was up half the night poring over them.’

  ‘I thought you might be. I didn’t actually read many of them, Evan, only enough to find out who Glynnis’s wartime lover had been. I just want you to know that.’

  ‘Thanks for telling me, but you could have read them. They’re yours really, since they were sent to your grandmother.’ A sudden thought struck her, and Evan exclaimed, ‘I wonder why Emma kept the letters? I mean, to what purpose?’

  ‘Evan, I’ve no idea. I thought of that myself, when I found them, and I wondered why she had left the key in the back of the frame holding Robin’s picture. And the photograph of Glynnis, Owen and herself. And I could only come to one conclusion.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Evan asked, an eager expression settling on her face.

  ‘I believe Emma Harte wanted the key found, and she bargained that I would be the one to find it. Since I’d always pestered her about that casket from childhood she knew I’d know at once that that particular silver-scrolled key was for that special box.’

  ‘Why not just keep the letters in a safe, or tell you about them?’

  ‘I wish I could answer you, but I can’t. Perhaps she hid them the way she did because she didn’t want them found while she was alive. And then possibly she forgot about them. She died rather unexpectedly you know. Shane has another theory: he thinks she kept them because it gave her a sort of hold over Robin. But I’m not certain he’s right. However, their discovery and the advent of Evan Hughes is certainly going to upset Robin’s son, Jonathan Ainsley.’

  ‘Yes, you explained that last night. Why is he your enemy?’

  ‘Basically, he believes he should have inherited much more than he did from Emma, and most certainly the department stores. He’s been very disgruntled about everything to do with her legacy since her death. He feels cheated. And at one moment he really did Harte Enterprises harm financially, through the real estate division he ran, and he tried to grab the stores by buying up a lot of stock, and also getting voting control of more shares through a friend. But he didn’t succeed. Anyway, Evan, he’s bad news, take my word for it.’

  ‘Gideon sort of indicated that after the retrospective. We went to the Isle of Man for twenty-four hours, and he was upset that I’d been talking to Jonathan Ainsley. But I had no idea who he was.’

  ‘I realize that.’ Paula glanced out of the window, and said, ‘We’re going to a lovely little village called Masham. Uncle Robin has lived at Lackland Priory for many, many years. It’s a beautiful old place, you’ll be struck by its simplicity, and yet it’s an architectural gem.’

  ‘I can’t wait, but I am a bit nervous about meeting Robin…my grandfather.’ Evan made a face. ‘That sounds funny, saying grandfather when I think of my grandfather as Richard Hughes and he’s dead.’

  ‘You don’t have to be nervous, Evan, I think Uncle Robin is rather pleased to know you exist. Jonathan has been a genuine disappointment to him…I do believe he thinks of him as rather strange, to use a nice word.’

  ‘What do you think of him, Paula?’

  ‘Naturally I detest him, because he’s damaged us. I think he’s a rather sinister presence in the family…and just a little bit dange
rous. So we must be careful how we handle this news of your existence. Ah, look, Evan, just ahead. Those are the gates of the hall. We’ll be there in a few minutes.’

  Once they had driven through the gates, Evan gazed at the beautifully kept lawns, the copse of trees to the right of the house, and the house itself standing at the edge of the main lawn. Solitary. Simple. And yet so beautiful, as Paula had said a short while before. Evan loved the grey stone which was used so much in Yorkshire; Gideon had told her it was a local stone taken from the nearby quarries.

  Paula pulled up at the front door, glanced at her. ‘Are you ready, Evan?’

  ‘Yes.’ Opening the door, she got out of the car and followed Paula to the front door, swallowing hard as she did, and straightening her jacket.

  Within seconds the door was opened by the butler. ‘Good morning, Miss Paula,’ he said, opening the door wider. ‘He’s waiting for you in the library.’

  ‘Thank you, Bolton. And this is Miss Hughes.’

  The butler inclined his head; Evan smiled faintly, and the two women followed him across the entrance hall, walking in the direction of the library.

  Robin Ainsley was sitting in the wing chair by the window; there was a book on the Queen Anne tea table, but it was closed, and it occurred to Evan that he might have been dozing in the chair.

  The butler cleared his throat. ‘Miss Paula has arrived, sir. With Miss Hughes.’

  ‘Ah yes, thank you, Bolton.’ Robin immediately rose and turned to them, his eyes on Evan as the two women walked toward him.

  Likewise, Evan’s eyes were on him. She saw a tall, slender, white-haired man, rather elegant and refined in appearance. He wore an old tweed jacket with leather patches on the elbows, grey slacks, a pale blue shirt and a brown knitted tie. In a peculiar way, he reminded her of Richard Hughes, and she smiled inwardly, thinking that perhaps Glynnis had been drawn to the same type of man.

  Paula kissed his cheek, and introduced her. ‘This is Evan, Uncle Robin.’

  He stretched out his hand, gazing at her. ‘I’m very pleased to meet you, Evan.’

  ‘As I am, Mr. Ainsley.’

  A faint smile touched his mouth. ‘Why don’t you call me Robin, my dear? Much friendlier.’

  ‘If you’d like that?’

  ‘I would. Now, can I offer you something? Tea, coffee, sherry perhaps?’

  Paula said, ‘I’d love a glass of fizzy water please, Uncle Robin.’

  ‘So would I, thank you,’ Evan murmured.

  Robin Ainsley looked across at Bolton, hovering in the doorway, and said, ‘Two glasses of fizzy water, and sherry for me, Bolton. Thank you.’

  The butler departed discreetly, closing the door behind him, and Robin said, ‘Why don’t we sit over there near the fireplace? I know it’s June, but there’s still a nip in the air up here, and I do like a fire even now. I feel the cold in my bones rather a lot these days. Getting old, living on borrowed time.’

  Paula smiled at him, slipped her arm through his and walked with him to the fireplace, indicating with her eyes that Evan should follow.

  Once they were seated, Paula said, ‘Evan asked to meet you today, Uncle Robin, because she’s going back to London tomorrow, and she won’t be here again for two weeks. For Linnet’s engagement dinner, the night before the big birthday party.’

  ‘I’m glad she suggested it.’ He turned his gaze on Evan. ‘To be frank, I wanted to meet you at once, but I thought that perhaps I should leave the decision to you.’

  Evan cleared her throat, still feeling somewhat nervous, and said softly, ‘It seemed rather silly to wait. I really didn’t have to think it over much. I wanted to meet you, too.’

  ‘Have you informed your father of this…development?’ Robin asked, eyeing her thoughtfully.

  ‘No, I haven’t. I did think about it last night, about calling him, but I changed my mind.’

  ‘Oh, why is that?’

  ‘I wanted to look you over first,’ she blurted out before she could stop herself, and felt herself blushing.

  Even before she could say anything else, Robin laughed. It was a deep-throated laugh, and he was obviously highly amused. Glancing at Paula he said, ‘Evan sounds like Emma…’ Addressing Evan, he continued, ‘My mother was always rather blunt, spoke her mind, and much to my consternation at times.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, I did sound rude, didn’t I? But I just felt we ought to meet before I told my father anything. Besides, it’s a bit difficult to discuss on the phone. I think I’d prefer to tell him face to face. He’s supposed to come over in a couple of months. On vacation.’

  ‘Is he now?’ Robin pondered this for a moment, and was about to say something when Bolton came in with glasses on a silver tray. After the drinks were passed around and they were left alone again, Robin said, ‘What do you think his reaction will be?’

  She shook her head. ‘I don’t know, honestly I don’t.’

  ‘It will be a shock, I suppose,’ Paula said. ‘After all, he grew up knowing another man as his father.’

  Robin was silent; he took a sip of dry sherry.

  Evan shifted slightly on the sofa, and said quietly, ‘I think he might suspect something…’

  Robin glanced at her swiftly. ‘Oh.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’ Paula asked, filled with curiosity. This was a new turn of events.

  ‘His attitude really. He wanted me to come to London originally. And then he seemed to change his mind, especially after I started to work at Harte’s. I think he might have found something after my grandmother died last November. Some papers.’ Looking at Paula, Evan added, ‘The way you found the letters from Glynnis to Emma.’

  Paula was thoughtful, her brows drawing together.

  Robin said, ‘I understand from Paula that on her death bed your grandmother told you to come and find Emma Harte, that she was the key to your future. But they were close friends, surely she knew Emma was dead?’

  ‘I’m sure she did, Robin,’ Evan replied, saying his name for the first time. ‘I think she wanted to put me in your orbit–by that I mean in the orbit of the Hartes. Perhaps she knew people would think I looked like Paula, and that something would happen…I’m just not sure.’

  ‘And we’ll never know, will we? On the other hand, I think you’re probably right.’ Settling back in the chair, Robin gazed at Evan for a long moment, studying her once more. Then he said, ‘You don’t look like Paula. You have a strong resemblance to my sister Elizabeth.’ Glancing at Paula, he continued. ‘You mentioned that the other day.’

  ‘I know I don’t look like Glynnis,’ Evan announced.

  Robin inclined his head. ‘No, you don’t. I think perhaps they threw away the mould. Glynnis was quite the most extraordinary looking woman I’ve ever known…’ His sentence remained unfinished.

  Paula said, ‘Uncle Robin, do you mind if I pop out into the garden for a moment? I want to look at those plants I sent you the other day, to be sure they’re in the beds correctly.’

  He was about to tell her his gardener knew what he was doing when he realized she was being discreet, leaving them alone together for a few moments. He nodded. ‘Of course, do go out to the garden, Paula, my dear.’

  He smiled at Evan a few seconds later. ‘She’s a bit too obvious at times.’

  Evan smiled back at him. ‘But she’s thoughtful’

  ‘Oh yes.’ He seemed to ruminate on something for a short while, as if having a tussle with himself, and then he said, ‘And do you hate me, Evan, for not marrying Glynnis Jenkins?’

  ‘No. It’s so long ago…something like sixty years.’

  ‘Yes, indeed. It wasn’t that I didn’t love her, because I did. I just loved her far too much. And she loved me in the same way…too much. We would—’

  ‘Oh my God!’

  Robin stared at Evan. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

  ‘My grandmother said something…I loved him too much, that’s what she whispered on her deathbed. I thought she was refe
rring to Owen, her son, my father. But perhaps she was referring to you…do you think?’

  ‘Maybe she was. That was our problem. Too much passion and too much possessiveness. Our love would have burnt out, or we would have killed each other. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Evan gave him a long, hard stare. ‘Were you happy in your marriage?’

  ‘In many ways I was. However, to be truthful, I missed her always, missed the passion, the sensuality, the charm of her, and her beauty. Glynnis Jenkins was the most enchanting woman I ever knew. Yes, I missed her…’

  ‘Glynnis was happy, you know,’ Evan told him. ‘Very happy with Richard Hughes, and they had a good marriage. But she was always drilling something into me…the importance of compatibility, as well as love. You two weren’t very compatible, were you?’

  ‘No. But that didn’t stop me loving her.’

  There was such a strange note in his voice, a gruff undertone, that Evan glanced at him swiftly, and she saw that there were tears in his eyes. On an impulse, without thinking, she jumped up, and went to him, put her hand on his shoulder. ‘Oh Robin,’ she murmured. ‘I do understand…and I don’t blame you.’

  He gazed into her face and for a split second he saw not Evan, nor his sister Elizabeth, but Glynnis. And without thinking he pulled Evan into his arms and held her very close. Within a few seconds he released her, and said in that same gruff voice, ‘Forgive a very old man.’

  ‘There’s nothing to forgive,’ she said and returned to the sofa.

  Pulling himself together, Robin reached for the glass of sherry and tossed it back. Sitting up straighter, he asked, ‘So, my dear, do you think you and I can be friends?’

  ‘Oh yes, I hope so.’

  ‘And your father?’

  ‘That I don’t know.’

  ‘Mmmm. I understand. Do you plan to stay in England?’

  ‘I want to, yes.’

  ‘So I’m likely to see you again?’ Robin raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Absolutely.’

  There was a little silence.

 

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