James thought it was a lovely gathering, people he cared about. His family, as always, and those friends who had shown how much he meant to them over these last months. A great posse indeed.
His eyes roamed around the room. Suddenly he felt as if he were standing outside, looking in through a window. And, for a fraction of a minute, he saw each person objectively, and he was amazed.
How good they all looked, attractive, nicely dressed, being friendly with each other, moving around yet attentive. Laughing and chatting.
What pleased him the most was the sudden knowledge that every one of them wanted to celebrate his birthday, share the joy with him. How lucky he was to have a family like his – family meant everything to him. And his friends did, too.
Natalie, a staunch supporter at work; William his dearest male friend, always ready to help him if he could. Detective Roger Crawford, who had gone out of his way to make sure he was safe, that he hadn’t been targeted by someone. And finally, Lucy Charteris, Natalie’s assistant, who had proved to be another diligent and loyal colleague.
He was many times lucky, no two ways about that.
His eyes stayed on Lucy, and his face suddenly changed, a smile pushing through. His uncle Harry had just made a beeline for her and was being his most charming self. And she was charming Harry back.
Well, you just never know, James thought. You could meet your soul mate anywhere, anytime. And certainly when you least expect it. Lucy was blonde, a pretty English rose.
As if the window he was staring through had melted away, he found himself in between Rossi and Natalie, one on each side of him, eager to talk.
‘We want to ask you a question,’ Rossi said in a firm, no-nonsense voice.
Natalie took hold of his arm. ‘Only you can answer it,’ she asserted.
James looked from one to the other, and said, ‘Ask away. I’ll do my best to answer it.’
It was Rossi who took the lead. ‘Why didn’t Peter Keller come to the party? Or didn’t you ask him?’
Inside James was amused, knowing full well that Natalie probably believed Keller’s absence had to do with her.
Keeping a straight face, he replied, ‘He was invited, but he had longstanding plans to go to Le Havre, then down to a vineyard in Provence, and back to Le Havre. Armand was going with him to the vineyard, so it was all too difficult to rearrange. He’s extremely busy, as you know, still getting the wine business back on its feet. There was nothing personal about it.’
Natalie nodded. ‘I thought perhaps he might be upset with me, because of William.’ She threw him a questioning look.
James said, ‘Not at all, as far as I know. He likes you a lot, but I’m sure he’s still gun shy.’
Rossi asked, ‘What are you referring to, James?’
‘I understand he had a relationship with someone that he considered to be serious. And, quite unexpectedly, the lady broke it off. There was never a proper explanation, I gather, and then she went to live in America.’
‘Oh how awful!’ Natalie exclaimed. ‘I think that explains a lot. He was a bit cautious with me, and I worried about our relationship. But when I look back there never really was one. He was a bit remote.’
‘William isn’t. He cares about you,’ Rossi announced in a confident voice.
James glanced at his sister alertly. He realized Rossi and Natalie had become close friends and decided to leave them to their confidences. ‘If you’ll excuse me, ladies, I must move around, work the room.’
Esther and Philip, with the help of Harry, had planned the menu. The first course was seared foie gras on thick slices of warm sautéed apple, to be followed by a scoop of lemon sorbet to cleanse the palate. The main course was duck cooked in an orange sauce with tiny roasted potatoes.
Dessert was James’s favourite, strawberries Romanov, but there was also a birthday cake with twenty-one candles which he had to blow out. He did so amid much laughter.
The wine flowed, with champagne for the birthday cake, and everyone commented on the delicious food. A grand meal.
There were short speeches, accolades, jokes and teasing. The supper was a great success, which pleased his grandparents, who had set out to make it the best birthday ever for their grandson. After all, there was nothing quite like a twenty-first birthday party … it must always be special so it could be remembered for ever.
Everyone stayed on, to relax together, and coffee and tea were served. Philip offered after-dinner drinks and took a cognac for himself. And so did his three sons.
‘There’s nothing like a drop of Napoleon at the end of a superb supper,’ Harry said.
‘Now is the perfect time to open your presents,’ Rossi announced, and she and Natalie began to bring them over to James. He had told everyone not to buy anything for him, but they had not listened.
There was an elegant delphinium-blue cravat from Natalie, and a gold tiepin with a small pearl at the end, ideal for the cravat, from William. Lucy had found a silk handkerchief which worked well with the cravat and would go in his top pocket. Inspector Crawford gave him a smart satchel for his papers, made of soft black leather.
After opening them all, James said, ‘Thank you. Thank you for my presents and for making this a wonderful birthday.’
As he said this, he looked at his grandparents, smiling, and then smiled once more at his entire family.
Slowly he walked around the table, kissing cheeks and shaking hands, being his usual charming self.
Eddie, never one to be left out, exclaimed, ‘I hope you liked my painting, James?’
‘I did. It’s one of your best.’ He glanced at his mother, and then his sister. ‘And your white shirts are the epitome of elegance … definitely to keep for special occasions.’
James and George walked back home to their flat on Half Moon Street. It was a balmy night, without a wind, and the midnight-blue sky was scattered with stars. Uncle and nephew were not in a hurry, and George smoked a cigarette, enjoying the stroll and dissecting the evening. The journalist in him came out in its usual way.
‘Did you notice that Harry seemed rather taken with Lucy?’ George threw James a knowing look.
‘I certainly did,’ James responded and grinned. ‘He didn’t waste much time.’
‘He beat me to it as usual,’ George mumbled. ‘Anyway, Natalie’s more my type. But I think she’s taken. I noticed William … hovering a lot.’
‘I believe they might be an item. And probably serious, or at least on the way to being so.’
‘Mmm. Lost out again, I have. By the way, when is Irina coming back from Russia? She’s been gone a while now.’
James let out a long sigh. ‘I don’t know. Her aunt Olga had an accident and needs her for a bit longer.’ He half smiled. ‘At least I had a birthday card from her, and she seems to miss me.’
‘I’m sure she does. Don’t worry, old chap. She’ll be back.’
‘I got a promotion this week, Uncle George. Mr Malvern appointed me managing director of Malvern’s. I’ll be running the company. He wants to slow down, take it easy.’
‘My God, why didn’t you tell us all at the party? Everyone would have been thrilled to hear this fantastic news. Congratulations, James. Well done. And you’ve earned it.’
‘Thanks, Uncle George. It’s true. I’ve worked like the devil, and put in long hours. But to be honest, I didn’t expect such a big promotion.’
‘I wish you’d told us at the dinner. But never mind, I’ll announce it to the world. In my paper.’
‘You’d better check that out with Henry Malvern first,’ James cautioned. As always he never wanted to look as if he was boastful or promoting himself.
‘Leave it to me,’ George answered. ‘I’ll handle it with kid gloves.’
TWENTY-NINE
The first thing James did the following morning was to send a telegram to Georgiana Ward. He said he could come to see her, at any time convenient for her, at her home in Ascot.
The thought of her k
ept playing in his mind, despite the demands of the day. But his work kept him extremely busy, and his feet on the ground.
Mr Malvern made the announcement to the staff that he had appointed James Falconer to be managing director of the Malvern Company. The news was well received by the staff and the heads of various divisions, proving to Henry Malvern that he had made a good decision and that James was popular within the company. Edgar Williamson, his accountant, very much approved of him.
As for James, once the excitement of the day and the congratulations had died down, he found his thoughts returning to Georgiana Ward and his visit to her. He dithered about whether or not to take a present. And if so, exactly what? He dismissed a box of chocolates, and flowers, and settled on a silk scarf from Rossi’s small shop in the Malvern arcade just before Trafalgar Square.
Within minutes, he had slipped out of the office and was walking down Piccadilly, and soon hurrying inside her shop. Her face filled with smiles when she saw her brother, and she rushed forward to greet him.
‘James, hello! Don’t tell me you’ve come to buy something.’
‘I have, Rossi, you know I’m a big fan. I’m looking for a silk scarf for an old friend I haven’t seen for almost three years.’
‘What colouring? Blonde, brunette or raven?’
‘Dark hair, yes, raven, and blue eyes that have a hint of violet.’
Rossi went to a shelf and took out a tray of scarves, showed him several. He settled on a longer style rather than a square, and the shade of blue reminded him of pansies.
‘This is the right one, just perfect, Rossi. Incidentally, I am going to need some more merchandise for my own little shop in Hull.’
‘I’ll make a selection for you. I know what your customers like. When are you going up there again?’ Rossi asked as she carefully wrapped the scarf. ‘This weekend?’
‘No, no, I’ll be in London all week …’ He paused, then said in a low tone, ‘Mr Malvern has just promoted me. I’m now the new managing director.’
‘Oh, my goodness, James! How wonderful!’ Rossi exclaimed, staring at her brother, truly happy for him. ‘Congratulations.’
There was a moment or two of silence, and then Rossi asked, out of the blue, ‘How is his daughter doing?’
‘Quite well, but she’s more or less retired. She is living in Kent, doesn’t come in … not often, anyway.’
‘I’ve always thought she was a bit odd,’ Rossi stated, tying the ribbon into a bow on the box.
To say the least, James thought, but he decided not to comment at all. He paid his bill, kissed his sister’s cheek, picked up his package and left with a smile and a wave of his hand.
Back at his flat, there was a reply waiting from Georgiana Ward. Her suggested date for lunch was for the coming Saturday, 30 May. Her carriage with her driver, Drummond, would come for him at ten o’clock. He could hardly wait.
James dreaded those nights when he knew that sleep would be evasive, and he endeavoured to tire himself out early, get into bed and go into a deep sleep at once.
But the events of the last few days kept him wide awake, his mind turning constantly. It had been a few days of constant changes. He had a new title and a new job with more responsibility. William had confided his deep interest in Natalie; he was happy for his cousin, but uncertain what it would mean for either William or Natalie in terms of where they lived or worked. Harry had hooked onto Lucy, and he had heard from Mrs Ward. And, of course, Irina was still far away in St Petersburg.
He missed her, wished she would come back. They’d had a brief relationship and got on well, yet they had not spent enough time together to understand the nature of their friendship.
He was lonely, and that was the one emotion he loathed, the sense that he didn’t have a close friend. Well, there was William, but they were not always in the same town, and now Natalie had entered the equation and William was preoccupied with her.
Georgiana Ward’s birthday card had given him pleasure … he was delighted he would see her in a couple of days, yet what would that mean? Perhaps nothing at all. And the differences between them were too important to ignore. He drew a blank there.
And what of his own ambition – his little shop and the idea of his own retailing business. What did Mr Malvern’s offer mean for that?
A long sigh slid out of him, and he turned onto his side, hoping to fall asleep. Eventually he did, but dark dreams haunted him all night, and left their imprint on his mind. They lingered the next morning.
Good things had happened and he was grateful. He had so much, if the truth be known – a fantastic family, genuine friends, and success at work. And yet there was that emptiness inside him, something he could not quite fathom. Would it never go away?
Lady Jane walked across the impressive foyer of their elegant townhouse on Chesterfield Street in Mayfair, heading for the breakfast room.
As she approached the door, she heard her husband chuckling. Since he was alone in there, she realized he must just have read something in his newspaper that amused him.
Coming in silently, she paused at his side, leaned forward and kissed his cheek. ‘Good morning, Reggie.’
Lowering the newspaper, he looked up at her and nodded. ‘As beautiful as always, my lovely Jane. Good morning.’
‘What’s so amusing in The Chronicle? I heard you chuckling.’ She sat down opposite him at the round table and placed a serviette on her lap.
At that moment, Mr Grant, their senior butler, appeared. After they exchanged greetings, he brought the teapot over to the table, poured a cup for her. ‘Will you have your usual breakfast, m’lady?’
‘I will, Grant. Thank you.’
Once they were alone, Reggie said, ‘There’s a great story in the business pages which I approved last night, and I was laughing because I realized it might upset or annoy someone we know when I just read it again.’
‘Oh! So what’s the story?’ Jane asked, her eyes focused on her husband, her curiosity apparent.
‘I won’t read the whole piece to you. I’ll just give you the gist of it. That’s all right, isn’t it?’
‘Of course,’ Jane answered and took a sip of tea.
Reggie chuckled once more, and said, ‘Henry Malvern has just made James Falconer the managing director of the Malvern Company. I don’t think this announcement will sit too well with Alexis, do you?’
‘You’re right, Reggie. I think she will be furious. I wonder why Henry Malvern did this. Perhaps he’s retiring. You know he hasn’t been well.’
‘He’s not retiring. He’s now the chairman of the board, but the day-to-day running of the company is in the hands of Falconer.’ He shook his head, and a sad expression flickered on his face. ‘What a fool she’s been.’
‘I agree, but let’s not forget she’s still her father’s heir and will inherit the company when Malvern dies,’ Jane observed. ‘And all of the power is Falconer’s. Even if he were to leave, I don’t believe she could run the business.’
‘That’s a given, my dear.’ Reggie sighed, folded the paper and laid it on the table.
They fell silent. A few seconds later Grant arrived, removed the newspaper and served them breakfast. Grilled tomatoes on toast for Lady Jane, and eggs, bacon and a pork sausage for His Lordship.
After a few bites of food, Jane said, ‘I’ve been meaning to ask you, Reggie. Do you know who might have started that rumour about Goldenhurst being up for sale?’
He shook his head, and went on eating, not looking at her, intent on his breakfast.
Jane, her eyes narrowing, saw an expression on her husband’s face she knew so well. Glee. That was the way she thought of it.
She exclaimed, ‘Reggie, you didn’t do it, did you?’
‘Do what?’ he asked, sounding puzzled, and finally he looked across the table at his wife.
‘You know what I mean, don’t pretend you don’t. Goldenhurst. Remember her innocent remark …’ Jane stopped, her mind racing. ‘Her remark gave
you the perfect opening to bring up the entailment of the house. Alexis got upset about that, and I think she still is a little miffed. Did you set this up, Reggie?’
‘Certainly not,’ he answered in a mild tone, endeavouring to look innocent.
Jane saw the glee in his eyes again, and she said, ‘It’s made her buck up, and she’s in better shape, physically at least. Go on, Reggie, tell me the truth.’ She chuckled. ‘You can tell me, I won’t split. I’m your wife, men confide in their wives.’
‘Only some do, not all men. They’ve too much to hide,’ Reggie announced.
‘I know there are some genuine buggers around,’ she shot back.
‘Swearing, Jane! That’s not like you.’
‘Perhaps I know a lot more than you do about some men … who are your friends, by the way.’
‘Oh, oh, do tell, darling,’ he said in a teasing voice.
‘I can’t. You see, I never break a confidence.’
Reggie studied her, loving everything about her. Her looks, her warmth, her sterling character, and her integrity. He said in a more serious voice, ‘Remember the phrase, “Who will rid me of this troublesome priest?” regarding a king and Thomas à Becket?’
Jane nodded, already understanding what had probably happened. Reggie had made a comment and someone had acted.
Reggie took a sip of tea, cleared his throat, and explained, ‘I happened to say in front of someone that I wished Goldenhurst were up for sale, that I’d buy it just to get Alexis out of that house and back to London. A friend spread the rumour without my knowing. I was only told later.’
‘Who was it, darling?’
‘Oh, Jane, come on. You know I can’t break a confidence.’ A mischievous glint entered his eyes. ‘Anyway, no harm was done. No one was hurt, and it had the desired effect, didn’t it?’
‘Yes, it did. I’m really hoping and praying she finally starts coming up to London.’
‘She probably will do that, Jane. However, being in London doesn’t necessarily mean she will go to Malvern’s.’
Jane merely nodded, seeing the truth in that. It also occurred to her that it had to be a friend who had acted on Reggie’s comment, and an educated friend who knew English history like Reggie did. Someone who knew that it was Henry II who had uttered those fateful words, ‘Who will rid me of this troublesome priest?’ in reference to Thomas à Becket. He was later murdered, in Canterbury Cathedral in 1170, by four knights in service to the king, knights who had taken his words seriously.
In the Lion's Den Page 20