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Authors: Jeffrey Archer

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‘Why did that woman want to see you?’ demanded Virginia, somewhat thrown off course.

‘To find out if I was willing to pay back any of the money you’d fraudulently claimed from her husband over the past decade.’

‘You could have offered her the income from the distillery until the debt was cleared, which would have solved all my problems.’

‘As you are well aware, Virginia, it isn’t mine to offer. Father left the distillery to Freddie and stipulated that it should be managed by me until the boy reaches his twenty-fifth
birthday, when it will automatically become his.’

‘But now you know Freddie isn’t my son, surely you’ll support my claim that in an earlier will, which both of us saw, Father left the distillery to me.’

‘But he later changed his mind. And it wasn’t until Mrs Grant told me what her husband’s favourite whisky was that I realized the significance of father only leaving you a
bottle of Maker’s Mark in his will, which rather suggests that he also knew Freddie wasn’t your son.’

‘I’ve received a tax bill for £185,000,’ blurted out Virginia, ‘that I can’t afford to pay.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Archie. ‘But from my experience, the taxman doesn’t send out demands for £185,000 unless the person concerned has made a
capital gain of –’ he hesitated for a moment – ‘around half a million.’

‘I’ve spent every penny I made settling Cyrus’s claim, and now there’s nothing left.’

‘Well, I certainly don’t have that kind of money at my disposal, Virginia, even if I was willing to help you. Every penny I earn is ploughed back into the estate, which incidentally
just about broke even last year, and as you can see, we’re not exactly living high on the hog. In fact, if I’m forced to make any more cutbacks, the next one will have to be your
monthly allowance. The irony is that Freddie did better out of Father’s will than any of us.’

‘But all that would change if only I could get my hands on the distillery.’ Virginia leant forward and looked hopefully at her brother. ‘If you back me, Archie, I’d be
willing to split fifty-fifty.’

‘Not a chance, Virginia. Those were clearly Father’s wishes, and in that same will, he instructed me to see that they were carried out. And that’s exactly what I intend to
do.’

‘But surely blood comes before—‘

‘Keeping your word? No, it doesn’t, Virginia, and I must warn you that if you were reckless enough to challenge Father’s will and the matter were to come to court, I
wouldn’t hesitate to back Freddie’s claim, because that is no more than Father would have expected of me.’

On her return journey to London, Virginia concluded that once again, she would have to get in touch with her distant cousin in Argentina – and fairly urgently.

The following morning Virginia received a final reminder from HM Inspector of Taxes, which she screwed up and dropped into the nearest waste-paper basket. By the afternoon, she
was reluctantly considering booking an economy class ticket to Buenos Aires, and had even started to pack, while thinking about the things she would miss if she were exiled, including
Annabel’s, her friend Priscilla, Bofie and even the
Daily Mail
. She somehow doubted that the
Buenos Aires Herald
would have quite the same appeal.

She turned to Nigel Dempster to find out what her friends were up to. A photograph of a woman she didn’t care for dominated his column, although the news of her death didn’t cause
Virginia’s heart to miss a beat.

It is with great sadness
, Dempster reported,
that I learned of the death of Lavinia, Duchess of Hertford, who was so admired for her beauty, charm and wit.
That wasn’t
how you described her when she was alive, thought Virginia.
She will be sadly missed by her many friends –
who could all have joined her for tea in a telephone box. But because she
was so rich and powerful, everyone had always bowed and scraped to her.
The funeral will be held at St Albans Abbey, and will be attended by Princess Margaret, one of the Duchess’s oldest
friends. The Duchess leaves behind a son, Lord Clarence, two daughters, Lady Alice and Lady Camilla, and her devoted husband, the thirteenth Duke of Hertford. The funeral will take place on . .
.

Virginia opened her diary, pencilled in the date and unpacked again.

22

V
IRGINIA MAY HAVE
been penniless but no one who saw her walk into St Albans Abbey that morning would have believed it. She was wearing a black silk
dress with a pearl brooch her grandmother had left her, and carried a black Hermès handbag she still hadn’t paid for.

She entered the west door a few minutes before the service was due to begin, only to find the abbey was already full. She was looking around the packed congregation, anxious not to be relegated
to a place near the back, unnoticed, when she spotted a tall, elegant man in a tailcoat carrying an usher’s rod. She gave him a warm smile, but he clearly didn’t recognize her.

‘I’m the Lady Virginia Fenwick,’ she whispered. ‘A close family friend.’

‘Of course, m’lady, please follow me.’

Virginia accompanied him down the aisle, past rows of mourners who knew their place. She was delighted when the usher found her a seat in the fifth row, directly behind the family, which fitted
in neatly with the first part of her plan. While pretending to study the order of service, she glanced around to see who was seated nearby. She recognized the dukes of Norfolk, Westminster and
Marlborough, along with several hereditary peers who had all been friends of her late father. She glanced back to see Bofie Bridgwater seated several rows behind her, but she didn’t
acknowledge his exaggerated bow.

The organ struck up to announce a parade of the great and good who were led sedately down the aisle by the chief usher. The Mayor of Hertford was followed by the sheriff and the lord lieutenant
of the county, all of whom were shown to their places in the third row. A moment later they were followed by the Lord Barrington of Bristol Docklands, the former leader of the House of Lords.

As Giles passed Virginia, she turned away. She didn’t want her ex-husband to know she was there. Not part of her well-choreographed plan. Giles took his reserved seat in the second
row.

A moment later the congregation rose as one when the coffin, bedecked in white lilies, began its slow passage down the aisle towards the chancel. It was borne on the shoulders of six guardsmen
from the First Battalion of the Coldstream Guards, the regiment the duke had served in as a major during the Second World War, and of which he was now honorary colonel.

The thirteenth Duke of Hertford, followed by his son and two daughters, walked behind the coffin, and took their places in the front row, while the coffin was placed on a bier in the chancel.
The funeral service was conducted by the Bishop of Hertford, whose eulogy reminded those present what a saintly person the late duchess had been, emphasizing her tireless work as patron of Dr
Barnardo’s and as chairman of the Mothers’ Union. The bishop concluded by expressing his heartfelt condolences to the duke and his family, finally adding that he hoped with the help of
the Almighty they would come to terms with their loss.

Along with a little assistance from me, thought Virginia.

When the service was over, Virginia joined a select group of mourners who attended the burial, and then cadged a lift back to the castle for a reception she hadn’t been invited to. When
she arrived she paused at the bottom of the steps, taking a moment to admire the Jacobean building as if she were a prospective buyer.

During the funeral service and the burial, Virginia had remained still, but once she entered the castle and the butler announced ‘The Lady Virginia Fenwick’, she never stopped
moving.

‘How kind of you to take the trouble to travel up to Hertfordshire, Virginia,’ said the duke, bending down to kiss her on both cheeks. ‘I know Lavinia would have appreciated
it.’

I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, she wanted to tell him, but restricted herself to, ‘Such a dear, kind lady. We’ll all miss her.’

‘How sweet of you to say so, Virginia,’ said the duke, not letting go of her hand. ‘I do hope you’ll keep in touch.’

You need have no fear about that, thought Virginia. ‘Nothing would give me greater pleasure, your grace,’ she said, giving him a slight curtsey.

‘His grace, the Duke of Westminster,’ announced the butler.

Virginia moved on into the great hall, and while the elks and boars stared down from the walls above, her eyes swept the room in search of the three people she needed to see, and the one person
she hoped to avoid. She declined several offers of canapés and wine, well aware that her time was restricted and she had a job to do.

She stopped to chat to Miles Norfolk, although he was only a pit stop on her progress to the chequered flag. And then she saw him, leaning against the Adam fireplace, chatting to an elderly man
she didn’t recognize. She left Miles and began to drift in his direction, and the moment the elderly gentleman turned to talk to another guest, she moved in like a laser beam on her
target.

‘Clarence. You may not remember me.’

‘You are not easily forgettable, Lady Virginia,’ he ventured. ‘Father always speaks so warmly of you.’

‘How kind of him,’ gushed Virginia. ‘Are you still serving with the Blues and Royals?’

‘I am indeed, but unfortunately I’m about to be posted overseas. I’m sorry to be going abroad so soon after my mother’s death.’

‘But the duke will have the support of your sisters.’

‘Sadly not. Camilla is married to a sheep farmer in New Zealand. A hundred thousand acres, can you believe it? They’ll be returning to Christchurch in a few days’
time.’

‘That is unfortunate, and must place quite a responsibility on Alice’s shoulders.’

‘And there’s the rub. Alice has been offered a senior position with L’Oréal in New York. I know she’s thinking of turning it down, but Papa insists she
shouldn’t miss such a golden opportunity.’

‘How typical of your father. But if you think it might help, Clarence, I’d be only too happy to drop in and see him from time to time.’

‘That would take a weight off my mind, Lady Virginia. But I must warn you, the old man can be quite a handful. Sometimes I think he’s nearer seven than seventy.’

‘That’s a challenge I’d relish,’ said Virginia. ‘I don’t exactly have a lot going on in my life at the moment, and I’ve always enjoyed your
father’s company. Perhaps I could drop you a line from time to time and let you know how he’s getting on.’

‘How considerate, Lady Virginia. I just hope you won’t find him too much of a burden.’

‘A bloody good show you’ve put on, Clarence,’ declared a portly man who joined them. ‘You’ve done the old girl proud.’

‘Thank you, Uncle Percy,’ said Clarence, as Virginia slipped away to continue her three-pronged attack. The missile changed direction and headed towards its second target.

‘Congratulations on your new job, Alice, and I’m bound to say, I agree with your father. You shouldn’t turn down such a wonderful opportunity.’

‘How kind of you to say so,’ said Alice, not altogether sure who she was talking to. ‘But I still haven’t made up my mind whether or not to take up the offer.’

‘But why not, my dear? After all, you may never get another chance like this again.’

‘I suppose you’re right. But I’m already feeling guilty about leaving Papa to fend for himself.’

‘No need to, my dear, believe me. In any case, there will be more than enough of us to make sure he’s well occupied. So off you go, and show those Yanks what we British are made
of.’

‘I know that’s what he wants,’ said Alice, ‘but I just can’t bear the idea of him being on his own so soon after dear Mama’s death.’

‘You needn’t worry yourself on that count,’ said Virginia, who was pleased to see Giles paying his respects to the duke before he left.

Virginia gave Alice a warm hug before heading off in search of her final prey. A mother, a father and three small children were not difficult to locate, but this time she wasn’t greeted
with quite the same enthusiasm.

‘Hello, I’m—’ began Virginia.

‘I know exactly who you are,’ said Lady Camilla, and before Virginia could deliver her next well-prepared sentence, she turned her back on her and started chatting to an old school
friend, making no attempt to include Virginia in the conversation. Virginia quickly took her leave before anyone could notice the slight. Two out of three wasn’t a bad return, especially as
the one failure lived on the other side of the world. Virginia saw no purpose in hanging around any longer, so she made her way across to the duke to bid him farewell . . . for now.

‘I’ve had the most enjoyable time renewing my acquaintance with your delightful children,’ she said. She wondered if he knew how little she’d seen of them during the past
twenty years, not least because of the late duchess’s attempts to keep them apart.

‘And I’m sure they enjoyed seeing you again,’ said the duke. ‘I hope I will too, and in the not-too-distant future,’ he added, ‘if you have nothing better to
do.’

BOOK: This Was A Man
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