Silk. PENNY JORDAN

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       Chapter Thirteen

      In less than a week they would be leaving for the South of France, and the Belgrave Square mansion was busy with preparation.

      ‘Now, my dears,’ the countess informed Beth and Amber, ‘whilst the little ones will be going straight to Juan-les-Pins with Nanny and the servants, the three of us will be staying in Paris for a short time before joining them. You will both need clothes suitable for the South of France and these, of course, are best bought in Paris.’

      Paris! Amber and Beth exchanged thrilled looks.

      ‘Oh, Amber, I am just so excited,’ Beth burst out after her mother had been called away to take an urgent telephone call. ‘It’s going to be such fun. We shall need new tennis dresses, and swimming togs. Oh, and I do hope that Mummy will let us have some of those new pyjama suits that Vogue says everyone is wearing.’

      Amber was still thinking about the excitement of going to the South of France half an hour later as she went up the steps to the front door of Lady Rutland’s house in Cadogan Place. Louise and Lady Rutland were, she knew, out visiting an elderly cousin of Lady Rutland’s who lived in Richmond.

      ‘There’s a visitor to see you, miss,’ the butler told her as he let her in. ‘A Mr Fulshawe. He said to tell you that he’s here on your grandmother’s behalf. I’ve put him in the library.’

      Jay was here and on her grandmother’s behalf? How ominous that sounded. Amber quickly walked across the hall and pushed open the library doors, trying to quell her anxiety as she did so.

      Jay was standing in front of the unlit fire. He was wearing city clothes and, she realised with sudden surprise, he did not, as she had imagined, look out of place in them at all. Far from it. He looked, in fact, very handsome and smart.

      ‘Your grandmother instructed me to come,’ he told her. ‘I’m afraid I have some bad news for you.’

      ‘Bad news?’ Her mind raced. What did he mean? She searched his face but there was no clue to be found there. ‘What is it? What’s happened? Is it the mill?’

      He was shaking his head.

      ‘Greg?’ Anxiety sharpened her own voice. ‘It is Greg, isn’t it?’ she demanded when she saw the small movement he made. ‘Something’s happened to him. What, Jay? Oh, please tell me.’

      ‘It isn’t Greg, although in a sense it does concern him. It’s Caroline Fitton Legh.’

      ‘Caroline?’ Amber repeated blankly. Jay had come all the way to London to tell her something about Caroline? Her anxiety for Greg had eased back, and now she felt confused.

      ‘There is no easy way to tell you this, Amber. Caroline is dead.’

      Of all the things she might have been dreading hearing, the death of Caroline Fitton Legh had not been one of them. She was – had been – so young and so very alive. It seemed impossible. Amber remembered how beautiful she had looked the afternoon she and Greg called on her at Fitton Hall. She had been so kind, so very friendly and warm. Amber was perplexed. How could she have died? She suddenly remembered what Cassandra had said: that Greg was in love with Lady Fitton Legh. But Greg had laughed when Amber had told him that.

      Her heart was beating uncomfortably. She felt somehow afraid.

      ‘But how?’

      ‘An accident,’ Jay told her briefly.

      ‘Does my grandmother want me to go home for the funeral? Is that why you are here?’

      Jay shook his head. ‘Lord Fitton Legh has announced that there will be only a small private family ceremony.’

      ‘I can hardly believe it,’ СКАЧАТЬ