“Yes, sir.” Armstrong touched his hand to his cap, then greeted Alexis, “Good afternoon, Miss Malvern.”
She smiled and nodded. “Mrs. Bellamy will give you something to eat. You must be starving.”
Once they were inside the house, Alexis swung around to face her father. “What is this about? Your sudden arrival here, Papa?” she asked anxiously.
“Falconer has come across something quite terrible. But if I may, I would like to go to my room, freshen up. Perhaps you could ask Mrs. Bellamy for tea and sandwiches. I am a little hungry after the trip. I will only be a few minutes, Alexis.”
Her father mounted the staircase. She went into the kitchen, where she found Mrs. Bellamy already preparing tea and the small tea sandwiches they enjoyed, each one filled with something different. “Oh, my goodness, you’re already making tea. That’s so good of you,” Alexis said, walking toward the housekeeper working at the central table. “My father is staying the night, so we will need to have supper for his driver, as well, Mrs. Bellamy.”
“I have plenty of food in the larder, Miss Alexis. Don’t you worry,” the housekeeper answered. “And I’m sure Armstrong must be a bit peckish, need something to eat now. And a good strong pot of builder’s tea. It’s quite a trip from London.”
“It is, so please do what you have to do. Thank you, Mrs. Bellamy.”
Alexis glided out of the kitchen and was gone before Mrs. Bellamy could say another word.
Alexis walked down the corridor and went into Sebastian’s room, the one she loved the most, which he had helped to build. The sun was coming in through the large window and a fire burned in the hearth. She seated herself on a chair near the window overlooking the blue garden, waiting for her father, wondering what this trouble was and how Falconer had found out about it.
Within a few minutes, Henry Malvern came into the room and took a seat near the window next to her.
“What’s the trouble?” she asked in her blunt way, going straight to the point.
“Someone is stealing from us … we have a thief among us,” Henry announced.
“And how did Falconer discover this, Papa?” she asked, taken aback by his statement.
“I shall tell you the entire story, and I would prefer you to listen until I have finished. You can then ask me any questions you wish.”
When she was silent, her father said, “That is all right with you, isn’t it, Alexis?”
“Yes, Papa. I was simply digesting your words about having a thief among us.” There was a hesitation before she said, “Just one question, all right?”
He nodded.
“When did you find out?”
“Last night. I shall proceed to tell you what happened. I was working until about six. As I was leaving I noticed that Falconer was still in his office, so I put my head around the door, told him he should go home. He said he couldn’t because he had come across a problem. In fact, he had been about to come to my office to tell me about it.”
Henry paused as Mrs. Bellamy came into the room, carrying the tea tray, which she placed on a table near the door. Once she had arranged everything, she said, “Tea is served, Miss Alexis, Mr. Malvern.”
“Thank you,” Alexis said, and added, “We’ll look after ourselves, Mrs. Bellamy.”
Henry Malvern immediately rose and went to the table, followed by his daughter. After pouring the tea, Alexis said, “Help yourself, Papa, you must be famished, not having had lunch, I’m sure.”
After eating a smoked salmon sandwich and sipping his tea, Malvern continued, “I asked him what the problem was, and he told me someone was stealing from us in the wine division. He added he was certain it was happening in Le Havre. I asked him who it was and he said he wasn’t certain. He pointed out that we were selling as much wine as always but not taking in the same amount of money. Much less. He then said he ought to go to Le Havre at once to examine the books there. You see, he thought that perhaps Uncle Joshua had got himself into a muddle before he had the stroke. Now Joshua can’t tell us anything, poor chap. Falconer said he needed to have an overview.”
Henry took another sip of tea. “You can ask me any questions you want, Alexis.”
“I know you put Falconer in charge of the wine division after Uncle Joshua had the stroke, but I wasn’t sure why. After all, Uncle Joshua has several good men working for him. Couldn’t they have just carried on as normal?”
“I suppose they could, but I didn’t want them to. I wanted Falconer in there, once you were back at work and overseeing the arcades again.”
“I see. But I’m still not really understanding why the choice of Falconer. He only started here in December.”
“He can run rings round them all. He spent a year in Hull, working in the shipping division of his great-uncle’s company, Venables and Sons. Clarence Venables begged him to stay and run the company with him. I myself spoke with Venables, who gave him the highest recommendation. I’ll tell you something else: I always thought his father boasted about him, overdid it a bit. But I was totally wrong. He didn’t say enough. Furthermore, his father doesn’t know the half of it.”
Sitting back in his chair, sipping his tea, Henry Malvern then put his cup down and gave her a long, knowing stare. “Falconer has the most brilliant mind of anybody I’ve ever met. He’s all brain. He understands a balance sheet swifter than anyone I know, including myself. He sees things no one else does … like he has a demon telling him what to do. He’s got a gift for marketing, as you well know. As for retailing, he’s a genius.”
Alexis smiled faintly. “I must admit he certainly had a brainwave when he decided to invent the famous Waverley Diamond Collection, when even the Waverleys had never heard of it.”
Henry couldn’t help laughing. “Nonetheless, they went along with it, didn’t they? And everyone made money.”
“How does he know so much about jewels?” Alexis wondered aloud.
“He doesn’t. But he has a knack for spotting Cartier pieces. Apparently, his father could always pick them out when they went to the country estate sales. Matthew Falconer was looking for bric-a-brac, fake jewels, vases, and small items he could sell at the Malvern. Seemingly he had developed an eye for those unique Cartier items. And Falconer learned about them from his father.”
“You have great faith in him, and obviously you believe there is a thief amongst us,” she said, staring at her father.
“I do believe him. I trust him. And he is going to Le Havre to investigate. And you are going with him.”
Alexis, stunned at this announcement, gaped at her father, shaking her head. “No, no, I can’t go. I wouldn’t know how to help. Anyway, I don’t know anything about the wine division.”
“I am aware of that. The arcades have always been your bailiwick. You have to go because you are a Malvern, my partner, my heir, and therefore, you have the authority invested in you to sign papers, make important decisions, and act on my behalf.”
Alexis was silent, studying her father, at a loss for words. He had taken her by surprise in many ways.
Henry looked at his daughter, a reflective expression settling in his dark eyes. Finally, he said, “You, as Alexis Malvern, can dismiss people, hire people, make any decision you see fit. He can’t, not really. However, Falconer has the knowledge of the wine shipping business, after a year with Venables. He also has an enormous knowledge of wines. He was taught by his grandfather about vintages, vineyards, and quality. And vintners. It’s like he’s got a wine catalog in his head.”
“So you really do mean it? I have to travel with James Falconer to Le Havre to help him investigate,” Alexis murmured, eyeing her father, still incredulous.
“You do indeed, Alexis. As my representative. Actually, I will draw letters of authority for both of you, giving you both the right to act on my behalf.”
“Oh, but then he doesn’t need me to go. Not if you give him a letter of authority,” she exclaimed, seeing a chance to get out of the trip.
“It
has nothing to do with him, Alexis. I want you to go. In fact, I insist you go. One day the Malvern company will be yours, and you have to make sure you are helping to keep it safe NOW. You are going with Falconer because I insist. And I also insist that you take Tilda with you.”
“Tilda? My maid Tilda?”
“Yes, your maid Tilda.”
“But why?” Alexis raised an auburn brow, astonished.
“You will be traveling. To Le Havre first, and then I want you to go to the Paris office. So you will need Tilda to dress your hair, help you with your clothes, the normal things she does when you’re in London and not here in Kent.”
“Well, yes, I suppose so.” She gave him a long, puzzled look. “And she would be a sort of chaperone—”
He cut her off when he exclaimed, “Why do you need a chaperone! Falconer is a gentleman, first and foremost. Furthermore, he will protect you with his life from any other man, or any kind of incident. You need Tilda to get you into shape.”
“What on earth do you mean?” she asked, looking at him askance.
“I have never known a beautiful woman who turned herself into a frump.”
“What?” she cried.
“Yes, that’s right, Alexis. You have become a frump. I don’t mind that you wish to wear black and dark colors, because you are in mourning. However, I do think you should attend to your hair and your face. And most especially when you travel to France. You are my daughter, the co-owner of the Malvern company, and you must look the part. That is vital.”
This barrage of words from her father had stupefied her for a moment or two, and she waited for him to apologize. To her surprise, he didn’t. Instead he took another sandwich and munched on it, and waited for her to speak.
After a few minutes, she asked, “Do I really look like a frump, Papa?”
“You do. That bun at the back of your head has to go. You need to have that upswept look with curls on top like Thea and Claudia. It’s very fashionable at the moment. And you must attend to your face, the way you did in the past. Also, as I just said, you can wear dark colors, but the clothes must be the very best. I’m sure you must have gowns that are suitable in London. You do, don’t you?”
“I do, Papa. When are you sending Falconer, er, us, to Le Havre?”
“Today is Wednesday. We’ll go back to London early tomorrow morning. Friday and Saturday you can prepare. I think you should travel this coming Sunday. How does that sound?”
“Perfectly fine, Papa,” she answered in a level voice, knowing that her father was right. She had to protect the Malvern company because it was hers. Rather, it would be one day. She fell down into her thoughts.
After a short while, Henry Malvern said, “By the way, Alexis, you cannot travel abroad with that enormous emerald ring on your finger. Somebody will probably cut your hand off to get it.”
She looked down at the ring and her head came up with a jerk. “But I promised Sebastian I’d never take it off.”
“I think he’d suggest you do as I say if he knew it might cost you your life,” her father pointed out.
She bit her lip and finally nodded. “You are right, I suppose.” She twisted the ring, which she wore on her right hand.
Suddenly her father said, “I’ve noticed that you don’t wear it on your engagement finger since you returned from Vienna. Why is that?”
Alexis sat back in the chair and looked off into space, and then she eventually brought her gaze back to Henry. “It was Dr. Freud … he thought it might be healthier. That was the word he used. If I wore it on my right hand. When I asked him why, he said he didn’t want me to be engaged to a dead man.”
Henry was taken aback and oddly amused by Freud’s apparent comment, and he couldn’t help laughing. Then he apologized to his daughter, who was looking at him in the oddest way.
After a split second, she swallowed a smile and murmured, “Well, he was right, don’t you think?”
* * *
Later that night, just before she went to bed, Alexis sat down at Sebastian’s desk. She had made his bedroom hers, because she had always slept there anyway. And she also used his desk.
In May, one day when she had finally moved into Goldenhurst, she had found his diary pushed way back in the top drawer of his desk.
It wasn’t an engagement diary, rather a diary in which he had recorded his thoughts about many things … including a detailed account of the day he had given her the emerald engagement ring. Her father was correct. She could not travel with something so valuable … it would be risking her life perhaps, since thieves and robbers abounded.
Once more she read the account of their engagement evening and smiled, remembering every second of that night. Then she flipped the pages, as she so often did, and came across a notation she had read many times before.
Sebastian had written it one afternoon when she was sitting reading in a chair nearby, unaware that he was writing about her.
I wish I were younger, as young as she is, then we would have so many more years together. But I am, sadly, fifteen years older than my beloved Alexis. I must school her well in the years to come to make sure she knows how to take care of herself properly if I am no longer here … if I have passed on. She is a strong woman, clever, and independent. Those are just a few of the reasons I adore her so very much. I must tell her that if it should be that I leave first, she must live the rest of her life with happiness, live it for me and with me, because I will always be with her as long as she lives.
She closed Sebastian’s diary and held it close to her heart, then she got up. She went over to her suitcase, placed the diary in it. Then she slipped off her emerald engagement ring and put it in its box. She took the box over to her handbag. Once she got home to London, she would lock the diary and the ring in her safe. The moment she returned from France, the ring would be on her finger again and his diary in her desk drawer.
Going over to the mirror hanging on the wall, she looked at herself. She knew that her father was correct. She had let herself go. Sebastian would not like that. She must get herself back together, with Tilda’s help. And she would take Tilda with her to France, because she did need her to dress her hair and fasten her gowns. Anyway, she liked the idea of having Tilda for company rather than being alone with James Falconer.
Fifty
James was happy to return to Le Havre. He had always enjoyed the trips he had made with Great-Uncle Clarence and William. Docks, ships, and the sea intrigued him.
At the last moment, before they had left London, Henry Malvern had decided it would be a good idea to send Josh, Alexis’s driver, with them to help James with the luggage. He had been right. As far as James was concerned, Josh had been, and still was, a godsend.
James had immediately taken them to the Chevre d’Or, the inn that he knew well from his previous trips with Clarence. He had been greeted warmly by Jean-Claude Murat, the proprietor, and been welcomed with a bit of a flourish.
James introduced Alexis Malvern. When she had responded to Jean-Claude in French, he had been both flattered and pleased that she was so fluent in the language. He told her he knew her uncle and was well aware that the Malverns had owned warehouses on the docks and two ships for many years and did important business in Le Havre on a continuing basis.
Once they had been shown to their rooms and had unpacked, the four of them went downstairs to the restaurant in the inn, where plain but good French fare was served. It was crowded, and very busy.
Alexis did not have an ounce of snobbery in her, and she quickly took charge in the restaurant, showing the other three where she wanted them to sit at the only table available.
They had traveled all day and into the early evening; they were hungry and thirsty. After perusing the menus and ordering their suppers, she asked for the wine menu and immediately handed it to James.
“You are the expert so I think you should take charge and order the wine.” She smiled as she spoke.
He nodded and smiled back at h
er, relieved that she had asked him to deal with the wine. After scanning it for a few minutes, he ordered a good white, a favorite chardonnay of his. It would go well with their food, since each of them had ordered fish.
Tilda and Josh remained relatively quiet during the meal, as James and Alexis made their plans for the next day.
* * *
By the time he went to bed, James was bone tired. He fell asleep almost at once. But sometime during the night, a brawl between drunken sailors in the street below his window awakened him. He got out of bed, hooked the wooden shutters together, and closed the window. Perhaps the shutters would help to deaden the noise.
Yet for a while he discovered he still could not sleep; he knew this was because his mind was focused on Alexis Malvern.
He was still unable to get over the sudden change in her appearance. Overnight she had gone from a plain-looking, sad-faced woman to a real beauty.
At first he had not recognized her when she had walked into her father’s library in their Mayfair house on Sunday morning, just before they were about to set out on their journey.
He hadn’t known she had such gorgeous auburn hair, now piled in curls on top of her head and on the very edge of her forehead. Then he had quickly realized that when he had met her at the office on a few occasions, her hair had been in a bun and under a black hat. Also, she was always wearing glasses.
Yesterday he had been dazzled by her bright, emerald green eyes, and red hair. That vividness of coloring, set against a face as white and as smooth as polished marble, was unique. He had been full of astonishment.
Because she was in mourning, she had worn a black suit to travel in, but it was well cut, with a long skirt and smartly tailored jacket. A white silk blouse with a jabot had relieved the black. Her hat was the smallest black bowler he had ever seen, perched on top of her head full of curls.
Quite a transformation indeed, no doubt aided by Tilda’s skills. Even so, there was no denying that Miss Malvern was a beautiful woman … one he could only admire at a distance. She was far beyond his reach.
Master of His Fate Page 32