Being Elizabeth (4 page)

The butler placed the tray on a side table, and then he and the maid gave everyone a plate on which there was a large, round Yorkshire pudding.

After serving the gravy, the butler asked, ‘Shall I pour the wine now, Miss Turner?'

‘Why not, Lucas. Thank you.'

Once they were alone again, Nicholas looked across the table at Cecil and Elizabeth, and said, ‘A large board is unwieldly, don't you think? And also too many voices and lots of differing opinions create monumental problems in the long run. I'm glad you've decided to tighten it up.'

‘The whole company needs tightening up,' Robert said. ‘There's been a lot of waste. Not only of money, but of talent as well. The company needs new blood, new
young
blood, quite apart from anything else.'

‘Robert, you took the words right out of my mouth,' said Cecil, inclining his head. ‘And now, here's a toast to you, Elizabeth.' He picked up his crystal goblet of red wine, and raised it to her. ‘To a new beginning at Deravenels and your great success!'

The other two men repeated her name, and lifted their glasses; Elizabeth smiled at them, her dark eyes glowing, and they all took a sip of the vintage claret.

‘Thank you,' she said as she put the glass down on the table
again. ‘I just want to say that I'm happy the three of you are here with me today, and that we're going to face the future together at Deravenels. I don't think I could do it without you.'

‘Oh, you could,' Robert said confidently. ‘But it'll be better with us around, don't you think?'

She laughed, began to eat, and the men followed suit.

From time to time Robert looked across the table at her and held her gaze until she glanced down at her plate and continued to eat. She was so happy he had decided to come up, be with her on this very special day. He looked wonderful, so good-looking, so very glamorous. All of a sudden she realised she was staring at him, perhaps a little too intently, when he raised a dark brow and threw her a questioning look. Her stomach tightened and she felt herself flushing. Much to her astonishment, she had become very aware of him physically in the last hour or so, extremely conscious of his presence.

H
e has not changed much over the years, my friend Robin.
Not in character at least. He has always been thoughtful,
caring, worrying about my comfort; or second-guessing
me; or showing up out of the blue, as if he could read my mind.
When I was a child I was always hoping he would persuade his
father to bring him to Kent to stay with us. Often I got down
and prayed that he would arrive
.

Sometimes he and his father would show up at Waverley
Court, usually on a Friday afternoon, and John Dunley would
leave Robin with us for the weekend, or often longer in the
summer. Kat Ashe, my governess, had taken a great liking to
Robin and welcomed him warmly. Looking back. I'm sure it
was Kat and Robin's father who concocted these visits between
them, knowing how isolated I was
.

We first met at my father's Chelsea house, and we took an
instant liking to each other. That day when he came to have
lunch and play with me, I asked him how old he was, and he
told me he was eight. I remember how surprised I was, because
he was tall and looked older, and then I confided, ‘I'm also
eight. My birthday is on September the seventh. When's yours?'
I don't think I'll ever forget that look of astonishment on Robin's
face. ‘That's my birthday too! September the seventh. We'll have
to have a joint party!' He grinned at me and exclaimed, ‘Gosh,
we're actually twins, Elizabeth!' It's often struck me how alike
he and I are, in fact
.

I was a lonely little girl. My father had taken a terrible dislike
to me after my mother died in a car accident in France. He
shunned me, eventually disowned me, and shunted me around
to stay with any of his relatives who would have me. I felt
unwanted and unloved, and actually I was. By him, anyway
.

Eventually, Father sent me to Kent, to live at Stonehurst Farm.
And Kat came too. She became a surrogate mother to me; Kat
loved me very much, and loves me to this day, but, as can only
be expected, in those days I wanted my father's love. He with-held
it. In fact, he was cruel and inhuman in his behaviour
towards me
.

My father abandoned me, showed me little or no consideration,
and did not bother much about my well being, leaving
everything to Kat. He was verbally abusive to me when we did
meet, calling me terrible names, telling me I was a bastard,
insisting that he was not my father, and shouting at me, saying
that my mother had been a cheating whore. I never quite understood
why he hated me so much, and I still don't, not really.
Obviously, I was terrified of him
.

When I was little I pretended that Robin was my brother,
because I so desperately wanted a family, wanted to belong to
somebody. And needed someone to love. I loved Robin then,
and I still love him. He is my best friend. And I know, deep
inside, that I am his; certainly he's often told me so. We were
close in childhood, but we drifted apart as we grew older and
he was sent off to boarding school. Still, if I ever needed him, he
was always there for me, and in those awful days when Mary was
vengeful and mean, he was kind and comforting. My loyal and
devoted Robin
.

I'm glad Cecil likes him. They've known each other for years
because Cecil worked for Robin's father at one time, which was
when they got to know each other. They are somewhat different
in temperament. Cecil Williams, with his grey eyes and clever
face and bright intelligence, is a man that everyone trusts and
listens to. Like me, he has a degree of caution, is wary and does
not make hasty decisions. He watches and waits, as I do. A
lawyer by training, he scrupulously abides by the rules
.

Robin is also intelligent, shrewd and clever, and has proved
himself to be brilliant in business. His handsome features and
dark good looks, plus an easy natural charm and a gift of the
gab, add to his potent charisma. And with his height and build
and flair for clothes, women tend to run after him, fall at his
feet. Although he doesn't pay much attention to them, I know
he likes women and their company. But he's never been a womanizer;
he has a good reputation in that respect. The only thing I
have ever cautioned him about is his impulsiveness. And he does
appear to be more restrained these days
.

I'm glad he came up to Yorkshire last Sunday. It was a lovely
surprise and he, Nicholas, Cecil and I were able to talk at length
about Deravenels and future plans. He and Nicholas left on
Monday morning. Cecil and I stayed on, of course, working
together for several days. Also, we had to remain at Ravenscar
because of the funeral. Sixty people attended, and we managed
to squeeze everybody into the chapel. John Norfell had arranged
everything with his usual good taste and punctilliousness. The
chapel was filled with flowers, Mary's favourite priest was
brought from London, and the priest and John Norfell accompanied
the coffin. Afterwards there was a catered lunch at the
house. I did my duty and played the part, kept a solemn
demeanour and said all of the right things to everyone with a
quiet dignity. At least, Cecil told me I had been dignified and
appropriate. Once everyone left, Cecil and I loaded his car with
luggage and drove to London together
.

And here I am on Saturday morning, back in my own apartment
in Eaton Square, waiting for my darling Kat, who's due
to arrive at any moment. I can't wait to see her … it's been
several months since we last met
.

‘Let me look at you, darling girl,' Kat said, staring up into Elizabeth's face. ‘I must say, you look none the worse for being all those weeks in the frozen north. I'd even go so far as to say you seem to be in blooming health. If a little pale.'

Elizabeth began to laugh, hugging her former governess, the woman who had brought her up. Finally releasing her, she said, ‘Kat, I'm never anything
but
pale, and you should know that since you're the one who never let me out in the sun or the wind.'

‘That's just it, it's usually so very windy at Ravenscar. Frankly, it crossed my mind that you might have a bit of a windburn since you've been there for several weeks. And you have had it in the past,' Kat reminded her.

‘When I was a child.' Taking hold of her arm, leading her across the foyer, Elizabeth continued, ‘You know I listen to everything you say, and I've been protecting my skin for years, following
your
rules.'

Kat smiled. ‘Yes, I know.'

The two women went into the living room which Kat had helped Elizabeth decorate several years ago. Spacious and airy, it had a high ceiling, tall windows and a fireplace where a fire burned brightly. It was cheerful and inviting with its daffodil-yellow walls, cream sofas and chairs, as well as a number of good antique pieces which had been borrowed from attics at Ravenscar.

Elizabeth said, ‘I've lots to talk to you about, but first I must go and get the coffee –'

‘Let me do that,' Kat cut in.

‘No, no, I'll bring the tray,' Elizabeth insisted. ‘Just this once,
please allow me to do something for you, Kat. You've been looking after me most of my life.'

‘All right, thank you.'

Elizabeth hurried out and Kat strolled over to one of the two windows, staring down at the garden in the middle of Eaton Square. The trees were bare, and there was a sense of bereftness about the garden on this cold Saturday. To her way of thinking, there was nothing quite as sad and dreary as a winter garden full of dead things. One of her joys these days was tending to her gardens; another, even greater, joy in her life was Elizabeth Turner, whom she loved and had brought up as if she were her own child.

‘Here I am!' Elizabeth came back into the living room carrying a large tray which she put down on a low table in front of the fire. ‘Come on, let's have coffee and catch up, Kat.'

The two women sat on the sofa in front of the fire chatting about a number of things, and then Elizabeth said, ‘Please fill me in about your visit to Aunt Grace Rose, would you? How is she?'

‘Quite incredible,' Kat answered, smiling, her motherly face lighting up. ‘As usual, it was something of a treat to be with her. You know, it's hard to believe she's ninety-six, but she is … she's exactly the same age as the year. Her mind is very sharp, no sign of senility there, and she looks extraordinary, rather smart and well put together.'

‘How amazing she is, still going strong at that age.'

Kat volunteered, ‘Naturally she's a bit frail these days, but she told me she's out and about all the time, going to this lunch, that dinner. If I get to be that old I hope I'm just like her.'

‘I know what you mean,' Elizabeth replied, and then said, ‘I was relieved when you phoned me and said she had no intention of coming to Mary's funeral. I'd had visions of her insisting she must attend because of … well, family. You know how she puts such store in that.'

Putting down her coffee cup, and sitting back on the sofa, Kat explained, ‘She confessed that she doesn't go to funerals
any more. Not at her age, she said, because she'll be attending her own soon enough, without the need of previews. She also went on to say that she only accepts invitations to christenings and weddings, but really prefers christenings because modern marriages don't seem to last very long, so why bother going in the first place. She had me laughing the whole time I was there.'

Elizabeth nodded, laughing herself. ‘She hasn't changed, she's apparently as forthright as she always was. Does she need anything?'

‘If you mean money, no, she's extremely wealthy. However, she does need one particular thing.'

Elizabeth leaned forward eagerly. ‘Tell me what it is, and hopefully I can get it for her.'

‘You certainly can. She wants to see
you
. And as soon as possible. She knows how busy you're going to be, but she asked me to remind you that time is not something she has a lot of, being that she's ninety-six years old.'

‘Why does she want to see me?'

‘I think she
needs
to see you is perhaps a better way of putting it.
Why
she does I have no idea. She didn't explain.'

‘This coming week is going to be impossible, but I'll give you some dates for the following week. I'll have to see her in the evening, though,' Elizabeth answered. ‘Will you come with me, Kat?'

‘I'm afraid I can't, darling. Grace Rose told me she wishes to see you alone. It seems she has something to tell you, and she says it's most important.'

‘I see. I'll just have to work something out.'

‘What about tomorrow afternoon, Elizabeth? For tea. If she's free, of course,' Kat suggested.

‘I've so much to do tomorrow, I have to sort out my clothes, prepare for the terrible week ahead.' Elizabeth shook her head, looking worried. ‘I've no idea where to begin, especially at Deravenels.'

Noting her anxiousness, and detecting the genuine worry in her voice, Kat took hold of Elizabeth's hand, and squeezed it, then said firmly, ‘Everything's going to be fine. You're going to run Deravenels very well –'

‘Listen to me, Kat,' Elizabeth interrupted. ‘I value your confidence in me, and thank you for that, but it's not going to be quite so easy. I mean it when I say I don't know where to begin. I've never run a huge company before, and I haven't worked at Deravenels for a year, because of Mary's contentiousness. I'm afraid I'm going to flounder, make a mess of everything.'

‘No, you won't. I know you too well to even consider such a thing. You're very efficient. You've always had great business acumen like your father, and you have down-to-earth values and a lot of practicality. Besides, you're not running the company alone, now, are you?'

‘No, that's true. I have Cecil Williams, Robin Dunley, and Nicholas Throckman, and Cecil told me yesterday that Francis Walsington has returned from Paris, now that Mary's dead.'

‘All you need are a few good men,' Kat asserted. ‘And you have them.'

‘That's true.'

Kat looked off into the distance for a moment or two, and then turning to Elizabeth, she said, ‘You're going to have far too much to cope with, without worrying about your clothes and other things like that. I have a suggestion –' She broke off, sat staring intently at the young woman she had raised, and whom she knew so well.