Being Elizabeth (13 page)

‘I see. Is everything inventoried?' Elizabeth wondered.

‘Unfortunately it isn't. However, there is one amazing collection of Georgian silver which belonged to Edward's mother, Cecily Deravenel.' Kat smiled. ‘Some of your antecedents were more thorough in their documentation than others, especially your great-great-grandmother. Everything of hers is listed.'

‘Don't you think Elizabeth will be bored by now?' Blanche remarked, staring hard at her brother, who sat opposite. ‘I mean, she really must be fed up, viewing all this stuff. Elizabeth's not into
stuff
.' She sighed. ‘Elizabeth's into being a tycoon.'

Thomas chortled, as usual amused by his sister's blunt comments. ‘No, she isn't into stuff, that's absolutely true. But she's certainly into money, and that's what the
stuff
, as you call it, represents to her. Even as a child she was enamoured of money and concerned about not having enough. Remember how upset she got when there wasn't enough for new clothes? Her father was cheap at times.'

‘
Very cheap
. But also greedy. All the Turners were avaricious. And in some ways his attitude traumatized her –'

‘Let's not psychoanalyse her now, Blanche.' Thomas gave Blanche a long stare, and asked, ‘Do you want to go down to the cellars and tell Kat to … cease and desist, so to speak?'

‘Perhaps we should give it a few more minutes. There is a lot of valuable china in the storage rooms. Most of it has never been used, and all of it's in perfect condition. Sèvres, Limoges, Royal Doulton, Worcester, Meissen, Dresden, you name it. And
there's a mountain of antique blue-and-white Wedgwood. That must be worth hundreds of thousands.'

‘Cecily Deravenel's, I bet?' Thomas remarked.

‘Yes.' Blanche shifted in her chair, drew closer to her brother, said in a low voice, ‘You should tell Elizabeth about Alex Pollard's idea, Thomas. Now would be a good time.'

‘You're right, I'll tell her over tea.'

At this moment the library door opened, and Elizabeth hurried in, accompanied by Kat. They joined Thomas and Blanche at the fireside, and, shivering, Kat said, ‘It's cold down there.' She put her hands out to the fire, as did Elizabeth, who was whiter than ever from the cold.

‘I shall go and ask Ann to bring the tea now,' Blanche announced, and purposefully jumped up, went off to organize the housekeeper.

Thomas caught Elizabeth's attention. ‘I'm sure Kat told you how valuable the china is, and apparently it's in perfect condition.'

Turning away from the fire, Elizabeth sat down next to him on the sofa. ‘I'm staggered by the amount of things I've seen this afternoon, Thomas, and this is just the beginning. There are the vaults in other houses, which I've never been into. Ravenscar and Waverley Court, not to mention the bank vaults. I know you've viewed these with Kat.'

Kat interjected, ‘I was just telling Elizabeth about the twenty-two diamond tiaras in the vault at Coutts Bank.'

Before Thomas could respond, Elizabeth shook her head, laughing. ‘Can you believe that, Thomas?
Twenty-two diamond
tiaras
. Of all shapes and sizes, all of which belonged to the women in the family who went before me. Amazing.'

‘They are
magnificent
,' Thomas answered. ‘I'm sure Kat told you that many of them can be taken apart, to become necklaces … seemingly those are the ones which are the most valuable.'

‘Because, for the most part, tiaras are out of fashion today,' Elizabeth said, laughing. ‘But I bet we'll be able to sell them.'

Thomas agreed with her, and said so, then, deeming this an appropriate moment, he continued, ‘There's something I would like to present to you, Elizabeth, an idea that comes from Alex Pollard. He believes it would be to your advantage to have a public auction, at either Sotheby's or Christie's, whichever auction house you prefer, in order to sell off the gold and silver items, the china, perhaps some of the art – any paintings you don't want to keep – and possibly some of the antique furniture. Especially if you intend to sell this house.'

Sitting back in the chair, Elizabeth looked thoughtful for a moment or two, mulling over his words. Finally she sat up straighter, and explained, ‘I don't know what to do about the house. I'm ambivalent about selling it, but I certainly like the idea of the auction. How else would we get rid of all these possessions? Possessions I don't want.'

‘There's also the jewellery,' Kat pointed out. ‘You told me you didn't intend to keep many of the things which Mary sent over to you in the suitcase. They could go on auction, too.'

‘Not the South Sea pearls!' Elizabeth exclaimed swiftly. ‘I intend to keep those, and the earrings. I will have to look at everything else again, to make a final decision, I suppose.'

‘I'm glad you approve of the idea of the Turner Auction,' Thomas said, smiling. ‘Alex Pollard suggest we call it that, to give it a sense of … importance.'

Fast on the draw, as usual, Elizabeth announced, ‘I would prefer to call it The Deravenel–Turner Collections. Then categorized underneath could be Antique Silver and Gold Plate by Eighteenth-and Nineteenth-Century Master Craftsmen. Antique China from Famous English and Continental Manufacturers, Fine Art by Renowned Eighteenth-and Nine teenth-Century Painters, Antique English Furniture and Rugs … and so on. And then at the end we can add something about Magnificent Jewels by World-Famous Jewellers. Something like that anyway. What do you think?'

Although Thomas knew better than to be amazed by anything Elizabeth said or did, he was nonetheless taken aback. And impressed. ‘
Brilliant
. And I do prefer the use of both names, which makes the auction sound more important. Well done indeed, Elizabeth.'

‘I agree with Thomas,' Kat volunteered, beaming at her. ‘And I think another category could be called
Tiaras
. After all, they're unique, and wait until you actually see them, Elizabeth. They are truly impressive.'

‘That's a great idea, Kat. I think I would use Sotheby's for the auction. Oh, and by the way, when am I going to meet Mr Pollard?'

‘Any time you want. His wife works in the real estate division of Sotheby's. You could use them if you decide to sell this house.'

‘Couldn't be better.' Elizabeth smiled at her. ‘Did he
say
anything about the house?'

‘He remarked on its beauty and outstanding condition, said how well-cared-for it looked. He actually told me you could easily get thirty million pounds for it.'

‘Oh, yes, I know I could. But I would never take
that
. In fact, I won't take anything less than seventy million pounds.'

Kat gaped at her, and so did Thomas, but before they could make any comments, Blanche returned, followed by Ann, who was pushing a tea cart.

‘You're both a welcome sight!' Elizabeth exclaimed, standing up, walking across the floor to join them. ‘That's just what I need to warm me up. A nice cup of tea.'

S
he had forgotten how beautiful the upper floors of the Chelsea house were, with their spacious bedrooms, wide corridors and generous landings. There were windows along the main corridor, and it was light-filled as she made her way to the master bedroom.

Pushing open the door, Elizabeth went in and glanced around, remembering the last time she had been in this room. She had come to visit Mary, who had not wanted her to come, and had done so out of a sense of family duty. But her half-sister had been cold, had shown no interest in her, and had made it abundantly clear she could not wait for her to leave.

Elizabeth recalled how she had gritted her teeth and stayed, sitting in the chair which had been placed near the bed for visitors. Mary, convinced she was carrying Philip's child, had looked smug, even self-satisfied at certain moments, but also extremely ill. Elizabeth was fully aware that her half-sister's swollen belly was due to a terrible sickness, and nothing else. This had proved to be true when Mary had later been diagnosed with cancer of the stomach.

But that day, over a year ago now, her half-sister had been
unbending in her attitude. She had snarled at her, told her she could not work at Deravenels any longer, and that she was disowning her once and for all.

‘Get out! Get out of my sight!' she had screamed at one moment, her dark eyes bulging in her sweating face. ‘You've always been a thorn in my side, you little bitch. You took my father away from me. Some good it did you. I'm the one with the power now. Not you. You'll never have the power –'

Mary had started to cough, falling back against the pillows, and Elizabeth had risen in alarm, leaned over her, only to be fiercely pushed away.

And so she had sat down in the chair, waiting for Mary to recover. When her half-sister was finally breathing more normally, she had asked her if she could do anything to help her.

Mary's response had been swift and angry. ‘Get out!
That
will certainly help. Go away and never come back here.'

And so she had done exactly that.

Elizabeth sighed under her breath, and walked across the room, glanced down at the garden. The winter landscape was devoid of colour and beyond the River Thames was the colour of lead. Dismal today. When she turned around, she stared at the huge four-poster bed, with its fresh white linen and collection of lace-trimmed Victorian pillows on display. And she thought of all those others who had occupied this room … other members of the family.

Her great-uncle, Richard Deravenel, and his wife Anne Watkins Deravenel … Richard, the uncle her grandmother Bess had seemingly adored. Her father had once told her all about him, how he had loved his elder brother Edward Deravenel so devotedly, and adored his nieces and nephews, especially Harry's mother, Bess, eldest child of Edward.
The nephews
… her mind focused on them for a moment … those two little boys who had disappeared from the beach at Ravenscar … never to be found. A great and puzzling mystery when it happened. But not so puzzling today, when children constantly vanished, either abducted by an
angry parent or by strangers with criminal intent.
Every five
minutes
. Statistics showed that every five minutes a child disappeared … somewhere in the world, and was as often as not never found.

Harry Turner had lived here with his third wife Jane Selmere, mother of her father's first and only male heir, sister of the Selmere brothers … Edward and Thomas, two handsome, dangerous men.

Turning around, Elizabeth left the master bedroom and hurried along the corridor to the bedroom that had once been hers. It was shadow-filled in the late afternoon light, twilight actually, but Elizabeth could see that it was exactly the same, remained just as she had left it. Closing the door, she leaned against it, her eyes roaming around.

Unexpectedly everything changed.

The years fell away. The past ensnared her.

He is standing in the corner, near the window
.

Tall, slender, dark-haired, and so very handsome. Even though
the light is dim I can see the laughter in his hazel eyes … those
eyes which are so often filled with passion and desire. For me.
I closed the bathroom door, but did not move
.

‘
Sweetheart, come here,' he said in a low voice. ‘Quickly, come,
let me hold you. Please, Elizabeth, I've been waiting for you
.'

Still, I did not move, turned to a pillar of salt, I've no doubt.
And there was no doubt in my mind what he wanted. I shivered,
filled with fear. And anticipation. He had done that to me,
my sailor man, taught me to want his hands on me, his mouth
on mine. It was wrong, I know that. But he was … irresistible.
Against my own volition I went to him. He pulled me into his
arms and held me close. He was so tall and strong, and I could
feel his heart thundering under his thin cotton shirt. He bent
down and kissed me, his mouth hard on mine, and then his
tongue was seeking mine. And I sought his, responded. I thought
my legs would give way, and I clung to him. He pulled me closer,
pressed me into him, and I felt his hardness, shivered
.

‘
Touch me, feel me, Elizabeth,' he whispered against my hair.
‘See what you do to me, my little sweetheart. This is yours, it's
for you
.'

I twisted, tried to pull away, suddenly afraid that we would
be caught. But he was the stronger, and he bent me back against
the bed, pulled up my nightgown, looked at me for a long
moment, sighing. ‘Elizabeth, Elizabeth, I want you so much. All
of you, my little sweetheart
.'

‘
Tom, no, we can't,' I whispered, struggling to sit up, but he
pushed me back, leaned over me. He kissed me again, and then
his hand was between my legs, touching me lovingly, in that
clever, expert way of his. ‘Oh, you lovely, moist little flower,'
he murmured, touching me lightly, very lightly, pushing his fingers
into me as I began to moan. ‘Yes, Elizabeth, yes. You love this,
don't you? And you love me, don't you?
'

Sudden fear rendered me speechless, and I struggled up, pushed
him away with all of my strength. My instinct for survival kicked
in as my head began to clear. ‘Tom, we can't do this. Not here.
It's too dangerous,' I whispered and reached for my dressing
gown, pulled it on. ‘Please, Tom, you must go. Please. For your
own sake. Please. What if someone comes in?
'

He grinned. ‘Nobody's going to come in, Elizabeth. It's only
seven in the morning,' he murmured softly. ‘But I can see you
are frightened. Promise me you'll meet me later. At the Ritz
Hotel.' He reached into his trouser pocket, showed me a key,
and crossing to the dressing table he put the key in the drawer.
‘Two o'clock. Let's finally make love to each other properly.
Come to the sixth floor, the room number's on the key. All right?'

The thought of being in his arms, alone together in a bed,
not stealing moments like this, sent a thrill rushing through me
.
Yet I was also afraid of taking that step. It could mean catastrophe.
As I was hovering uncertainly on the brink. I was saved
the problem of answering. The door burst open and Kat Ashe
was standing there
.

‘
What on earth's going on?' she cried aghast, looking alarmed,
staring at me and then at Tom. ‘Admiral Selmere, why are you
in Elizabeth's room at this hour of the morning?' she demanded,
staring even harder at him, her eyes appraising
.

‘
Just came to ask Elizabeth if she had some aspirins,' he said
calmly, his face devoid of all expression. As he spoke, he put
his hand in his trouser pocket and brought out a bottle of the
pills, showed them to her. Then he gave her a dazzling smile.
To me he said, ‘Thank you, Elizabeth,' and strode out
.

Kat came across to me and peered intently into my face. ‘I
don't like this, Elizabeth. He shouldn't be in your bedroom,
especially when you're undressed. It's wrong. He's married to
your stepmother
.'

Thankful that I was wearing my dressing gown, I pulled it
tighter around me. ‘I know, but he only wanted the pills
.'

‘
I understand. But it didn't look right when I came in, and
his presence in your bedroom could easily be misconstrued by
one of the staff. We don't want any nasty gossip, now, do we?
And lock your door in future
.'

‘
There's no lock,
'
I pointed out
.

‘Well, there will be later.' Kat announced and went out, forgetting
to tell me why she had come to my room in the first place
.

Once I was alone again I lay down on my bed and thought
about my sailor … Gorgeous but dangerous. Should I meet him
in the room he had taken at the Ritz? I didn't know what to do
.

When Elizabeth returned to the library, Thomas Parrell was standing in front of the fireplace, warming himself. ‘So, did you
refresh your memory about the upstairs bedrooms?' he asked, smiling at her.

‘I did indeed, and I must reinforce what I said earlier, Thomas. The house is a jewel, and I want to get as much as I can for it.'

‘Have you decided to sell it?' Kat asked, a brow lifting.

Elizabeth nodded, unable to speak to her, still full of the long-ago memory of that morning in her bedroom when she had been a teenager.

‘I think you're wise,' Kat now said, and Blanche agreed. Then Kat asked, ‘Do you want me to talk to Alex Pollard about it? Maybe he can arrange a meeting for you with his wife.'

‘I'd like to meet him to talk about the auction, but I'd prefer not to discuss the house yet,' Elizabeth answered, suddenly herself again. She sat down near the fire, and continued: ‘Tell me a little more about the auction, and when you think it can be held.'

She was unable to sleep.

Too many thoughts were running around in her head … the extraordinary possessions at the Chelsea house, staggering in their beauty and worth … doing rapid mental arithmetic … the value of the other things which now belonged to her … the jewels, the tiaras, the silver and gold objects, the paintings and antiques at Waverley Court and Ravenscar. Everything spelled money. That was the bottom line.

Money
. The bane of her life when she was a child; there had never been enough of it to provide for her needs, according to Kat and Blanche. And it was still a problem today. Because of Mary. Instinctively, Elizabeth knew that the Spanish deal would not be quite as simple as Robin had made it sound. It had gone too well too quickly. There was bound to be a catch. And the catch would be money, she felt it in her bones.