The Legacy of Hope House (11 page)

Anna gave her mother another hug. ‘It’s great to hear you say you’ll give it a whirl, Mum; it takes a load off my mind. I’m sure you’d find it a lovely house to live in, and I’d be there with you all the time.’ She put on her jacket and picked up her handbag. ‘I must go now; sorry I can’t stay longer, but I need to be there for phone calls and to sort things out for tomorrow. On top of that, I’m looking forward to Liz coming back tonight with the results of the search on Quentin Hale. I hope it’s as revealing as I need it to be.’

Chapter Twenty

The moment Liz walked into Hope House, waving her notebook wildly in the air, Anna knew she had been successful.

‘Got what you need, and more,’ she said, breathlessly, and dumped the notebook in front of Anna on the reception desk. ‘I searched through all the relevant records I could find here and abroad. You’ll be delighted with the results, so when you’ve got a minute, we’ll go through it, somewhere quiet, okay?’

Anna made time straight away; after all, this was of prime importance, because once she was sure of her facts, she intended to talk with Quentin Hale about it. She needed to clear the air as soon as she could… she wanted all anxiety about her inheritance to go.

‘Yes, yes, I see,’ Anna said, as Liz took her through what she had found of Quentin’s ancestry. ‘He definitely qualifies as a Williams, and is certainly a descendant of the Colonel’s brother, George The Younger.’

Anna stopped her. ‘I thought as much; he’s the living image of his ancestor - a real throwback. I wondered who he reminded me of earlier on; it was George The Younger.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Liz said, impatiently. ‘How would you know that?’

‘The portrait in the library, of course.’

‘Come on,’ said Liz, ‘let’s finish sorting this out before you get distracted.’ Liz ran her finger over her notes. ‘See,’ she said, tapping them, ‘if you had relinquished your claim, he is fully entitled to make a legal claim on it by virtue of his lineage. He’s in no way as closely related as you are, but he’s one of the Williams family all right.’

‘No doubt, had I not figured in the scene, Hope House Estate would have gone to him,’ Anna said, as she closed the notebook and looked at Liz. ‘You’re a jolly good friend, and I want you to know how much I appreciate what you’ve done for me.’

She put her arms around her and hugged her tightly. ‘I’ll phone Dot and thank her for the help she gave as well, but I’m taking you for a drink and a nice meal somewhere to celebrate. Then she produced a box she had put to one side, and opened it. ‘I kept these back,’ she said. ‘Mum’s chosen a brooch, I’m keeping the necklace, and there’s something for you, as a token of appreciation.’ She laughed at Liz’s look of surprise.

‘For me?’ Liz’s jaw dropped again. ‘You can’t give away something as valuable as that; it’s studded with gems,’ she said, looking with surprise at the beautiful piece. ‘But, it’s exquisite.’

Without saying a word, Anna slipped the dainty piece of jewellery into Liz’s hand and closed her fingers around it. ‘If you like it, then it’s yours. Keep it, or sell it … I don’t mind what you do with it.’

Liz’s eyes sparkled. ‘It’s a superb piece, and I love it. Thanks so much, Anna. I’ll have a safety chain fixed so it doesn’t get lost.’ She crossed over to the mirror to pin it onto the collar of her jacket. ‘This makes me feel a million dollars.’ Then she reached out to Anna. ‘Come on, where are you taking me for lunch? I’m starving.’

When they arrived at The Coach And Horses in the next village, who should walk in right behind them, but David and one of his workmen, Peter. He waved to them and signalled to keep him two seats at their table. Knowing which were Anna and Liz’s favourite drinks, he and Peter carried them over, and they all waited for someone to take their lunch order. While Liz and Peter exchanged a few words, David leaned close to Anna and whispered, ‘Seen anything of Quentin Hale yet?’

‘Nope, not since I discovered exactly who he is.’

David smiled and raised his brows. ‘So what does that mean?’

‘Can’t really go into that here and now,’ she whispered, ‘but I’ll tell you when you don’t have company. It could be disastrous if that information were made public too soon.’

David nodded, and lifted his hand to the waitress to take their order. Peter and Liz seemed to be exchanging jokes, so David took advantage to speak quietly to Anna again.

‘Er… ,’ he hesitated, then began softly again. ‘I wondered if you could make arrangements to have some free time on Saturday. I’ve got two tickets for a rock concert, and I’d like you to come, if you can.’

‘I’d love to, thanks. Our two semi-permanent guests are going to a match in Cardiff on Saturday, so I’m free. Phone me to make final arrangements.’

Once lunch was over, the four made their exit and went off in their respective ways. As Anna drove back to Hope House, Liz nudged her gently in the ribs.

‘I’m pretty darn sure David Rees really fancies you.’

‘What makes you think that?’

‘The way he looks at you… like you were some goddess.’

‘Oh, I doubt that.’

‘Honestly, he does. I notice it every time he’s with you. He’s fancy free now, so don’t be surprised if he wants to start dating you regularly.’

‘Matter of fact, he has hinted at it, so we’ll see what happens.’

‘Okay, and if that’s what you want, grab it, Anna; don’t let the grass grow under your feet or you could miss your chance.’

‘That’s enough about me… what about you and Grant. You told me you thought he was cute, and you see him every day at work, so is anything developing there?’

‘I’m working on it. We see a lot of each other, of course, but not romantically. I’ve discovered he’s not attached right now, so I’m biding my time. And hoping.’

‘For heavens’ sake, Liz, you know him well enough now, and this is the twenty first century. You’re as much entitled to ask him for a date as he is you… if you want.’

‘Er, yes I know, but I’d rather he made the first move; I’d prefer him to show a definite interest before I do something like that; don’t want to show pushy.’

Once back at Hope House, Anna discovered she had used up all the eggs, and since the next delivery wasn’t due until tomorrow, she’d have to slip to the shops to get some. I’ll do it now while it’s quiet here, she thought, and set off for town.

She parked the car behind the superstore, and walked around to the entrance, when in the distance she spotted David Rees talking to a woman at the bottom end of the road. She stopped, and stared, keen to see who he was talking to so confidentially, but they were too far away, and the woman had her back to Anna.

Tempted to go near enough to satisfy her curiosity, Anna hesitated before going into the shop. What am I doing, she asked herself. He’s merely talking to a woman, which he has every right to do, and anyway, it’s none of my business. The store was practically empty so she took only five minutes to buy the eggs, and as she walked back to her car, she saw the couple still talking, but now David had his head close to the woman’s, and his hand on her shoulder.

Wanting to know who the person was, and with curiosity getting the better of her, Anna decided to drive past them and take note.

Neither of them spotted her leisurely approach, but as she drew level with them, the woman turned her face so that Anna saw it. It was Mary Powell. Her grip tightened instantly on the steering wheel, and she gritted her teeth in resentment. What was David doing? He had dumped Mary Powell ages ago. Hadn’t he? Anna was soon past them and on her way back to Hope House, and the farther she went, the more annoyed she felt.

David had appeared to be very friendly towards Mary, so was he trying to get back with her? It’s unlikely he was trying to make me jealous, she thought, because he wouldn’t have known I’d be passing just then. But seeing them together had robbed her of much of the joy of going to the concert with him on Saturday. There was nothing she could do about the situation, other than hope that her fears were groundless. If he really wanted Mary Powell back then that was disappointing, but she wasn’t going to put herself in the frame. Right now, she decided it was best to concentrate on more pressing matters, and nothing was more urgent than confronting Quentin Hale.

She spent a considerable time in the library rehearsing what to say to him about his interest in Hope House, and how she would best approach his family connection. After all, the man had done no wrong. Maybe he hadn’t even entertained a single thought about owning the estate. However, he had intimated she would be better off without the place. Although that was true with the situation as it was then, maybe it was an indication of a secret interest in it— all-be-it one to which he was legally entitled under certain circumstances.

As far as the treasure was concerned, she would say nothing; her current financial windfall was none of his business. Her opportunity to talk with him came a lot sooner than she had expected.

‘Good evening, Anna,’ he said, cheerfully, as he arrived back at Hope House. She could never look him straight in the eye without flushing. He dumped his brief case on the top of the desk, and yawned. ‘I’ve been to a boring meeting at Forest View. By the time it had finished it was too late to go back to the office, so here I am, a good half hour earlier than usual.’

He slumped onto his favourite chair in the hall, and smiled engagingly at Anna, causing her colour to go deeper. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask you if I can take a look at some of the books in your library.’ He coughed apologetically. ‘The last time the door was open, I caught a glimpse of bookshelves crammed from floor to ceiling and I’m dead curious to know what you’ve got there.’

Anna hesitated for a moment; the last thing she wanted was Quentin poking about in that room. Then a thought came to mind; in the privacy of the library she could tackle him about his ancestry, and find out if he really was aware of a connection with Hope House.

She smiled. ‘By all means.’ Picking up the keys to the library, she walked around the reception desk and beckoned Quentin to follow her. ‘I keep it locked,’ she explained. ‘I wouldn’t want guests wandering into that room at will; there’s too much valuable stuff in there.’ She opened the door wide and they both stepped inside.

‘What a treasure,’ Quentin remarked, as he scanned the titles in the bookcases. He moved over to the desk, and smoothed the top of it. ‘This looks very old.’

Anna was about to tell him its history when she spotted the journal she was currently reading on the top of the desk. Not under any circumstances did she want him to pick that up and look at it.

Just as though Quentin had read her mind, he wandered nonchalantly over to the desk, and cricked his neck sideways to peek at the cover of the journal. ‘That’s ancient, too,’ he said, noting the date, ‘Colonel Thomas Williams… it must be interesting.’ Then he looked at Anna and tapped the diary with his finger. ‘May I?’ he asked, picking it up before she could scoop it out of the way. He flicked through the little book. ‘Tell me more about this colonel, who he is and what this is all about. Isn’t that the name on one of the portraits in the hall?’

‘Yes it is. And that’s his personal journal. He’s my ancestor, Colonel Thomas Williams, and that’s a portrait of his brother over there,’ Anna said, pointing to the painting of George.’

Quentin darted a glance at Anna. ‘That is who?’ he asked, looking confused, and moving close to the painting to stare at a face so much like his own that he seemed in shock.

For the moment, Anna felt at a loss for words. ‘It’s a long story. Look, I need to monitor the phone, so let’s go back to the hall. We can sit down there while I tell you what I know,’ Anna said, frantically wondering how to explain such a likeness to Quentin Hale.

Hesitatingly, she began. ‘I believe you are descended from an illegitimate line started by my colonel ancestor’s wayward brother George, many generations ago.’ She paused to see if what she had just said had made an impact, but he just stared at her, open-mouthed. ‘If that is correct, it means you have every right to make a legal claim on the estate I’ve inherited through the colonel, should I decide not to keep it.’ She paused for a moment to watch Quentin’s reaction. ‘However, just for the records, I am definitely keeping it.’

‘Oh, m’god,’ Quentin murmured, still seated on the chair and looking perplexed. ‘What would I want with a place like this? Please, I don’t mean to denigrate your inheritance, but it’s just not my kind of thing.’ He shook his head. ‘If that’s what you’ve been thinking, then I apologise for any anxiety it must have caused you.’

He took a deep breath and looked straight into Anna’s eyes. ‘There’s obviously a serious misunderstanding here, and it’s probably due to my uncle thinking I’d be interested if you didn’t want it. But he’s wrong. I have no interest in it whatsoever. I feel sure all of this has come about because of his awareness of my mother’s buccaneering Welsh family history, and an eagerness for me to do further research on it.’

For several embarrassing seconds, he sat, head in hands, eyes glued to the floor. ‘I was vaguely aware of this ancient will, but I’d never read it until you asked me to look at it. As for my ancestral connection to the Williams family, that has never been properly established.’

He cupped his head in his hands for several seconds and then looked up pleadingly at her. ‘My god, Anna, please believe me - I’ve never had the slightest inclination to own a place like this.’ He shook his head vigorously. ‘I would have no interest in a run-down mansion; and I’m not into restoration of old buildings. And even if I had been interested, I would never have taken it away from you, and that’s the honest truth. My conscience wouldn’t allow me to benefit from another’s misfortune, whoever it was, but especially you, dear Anna.’

He looked up, tired and bleary-eyed, but managed a weak smile as he reached for Anna’s hand. ‘If you feel bad about this and want me to pack my bags and leave, just say so, but I hope you’ll forgive me for a misunderstanding that was certainly none of my doing.’