Heirs of Ravenscar. Barbara Taylor Bradford

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СКАЧАТЬ didn’t know, but he’s promised to find out for me. I suspect it’s either cocaine, or possibly he visits those opium dens in Chinatown, down Limehouse way.’

      ‘Bloody fool!’ Edward shook his head, stood up again, paced for a moment, and then he addressed Will. ‘You said Amos has investigated all this, knows more.’

      ‘He does. I spoke to him earlier. I’d asked him to do a bit of digging for me yesterday, and he did find out a few things last night. I told him to come in around ten thirty –’ Will stopped at the sound of a loud knock on the door. ‘I’m sure this is him.’

      ‘No doubt,’ Edward agreed, and called out, ‘Come in!’

      ‘Good morning,’ Amos said to the room at large; they greeted him in return. Hurrying over to the desk, he waited until Edward was seated behind it before taking the empty chair at the other side.

      ‘What did you find out?’ Edward asked.

      ‘The promissory notes are held by three clubs. Starks, The Rosemont, and the Gentleman’s Club. Starks is owed the most money, and Julian Stark is personally holding the notes. I heard last night from one of my contacts that he is going to come and see you himself, to demand payment.’

      ‘Is he now? Well, we must forestall him. He’s a big gossip. Do you know how much my brother owes Stark?’

      Amos nodded. ‘I do. Thirty thousand pounds.’

      Edward was flabbergasted, and his face paled. ‘What an idiot he is!’ he cried, his rage surfacing.

      ‘Don’t lose your temper again,’ Will murmured in soothing tones. ‘He ain’t worth it, Ned, and it’s only money.’

      Endeavouring to calm himself, Edward muttered, ‘It’s the principle.’ Then he addressed Alfredo. ‘I’m going to write a personal cheque for that amount, a cashier’s cheque, and I’d like you and Finnister to take it to Julian Stark after lunch. I know you won’t mind doing that, will you? And get those promissory notes.’

      ‘That’s not a problem, we can handle this bit of business in a few minutes.’ Oliveri glanced at Finnister. ‘Isn’t that so?’

      Amos nodded, then looked over at Edward. ‘The other two gambling clubs are each holding notes for five thousand pounds.’

      ‘I see.’ Edward was livid, and his anger showed on his face which had now lost all of its colour completely, was paler than ever. ‘I’ll write those two cheques as well, and you can drop them off, can’t you, Amos? Oliveri?’

      ‘Yes, and I’ll get the promissory notes,’ Amos replied and Oliveri nodded.

      There was a sudden silence in the office. Will thought a pin dropping would be like a bomb going off, and he held himself perfectly still, waiting for a further explosion from Ned. But he said nothing. Nor did anyone else speak.

      Forty thousand pounds was a fortune, Will thought, turning over the amount in his mind. How had George Deravenel managed to lose so much? Drink? Drugs? Total stupidity? Well he was stupid. Will had always known that. A pretty boy, spoiled by his mother and sister Meg before she had married and gone to live in France. George. All that silky blond hair, those unusual turquoise blue eyes. But dumb yes … beautiful and dumb. Poor eyesight, couldn’t pass the test to join the army. He thought he was Ned, or, more correctly, thought he could be his big brother. That was not possible. Edward was brilliant; he couldn’t hold a candle to him. George was his own worst enemy, Will understood this. He was always heading for trouble of his own making.

      Will looked at Amos, as Edward was saying, ‘So tell me, what did you find out about the drugs, Amos?’

      ‘I went to a lot of clubs late last night, and I think the drug-taking has been exaggerated,’ Amos explained. ‘He might have tried reefers at times, also cocaine, but I don’t believe it’s a problem. Liquor is. He drinks a lot. He’s on the road to becoming an alcoholic.’

      ‘Just as I thought.’ Edward nodded. ‘Thank you, Amos, for sniffing around. I’m going to have to decide what to do with Master George, when he returns to London.’ He gave the three men a warm smile. ‘But I’m not going to let him spoil Christmas. Lunch at Rules at one o’clock, and please, gentlemen, I don’t want any discussion about this matter in front of Richard.’

ELEVEN

      Grace Rose finished wrapping the last of her Christmas presents in gold paper, tying the gauzy gold ribbon into a lavish bow. After adding a small spray of gold-painted holly and a bunch of tiny gold bells, she put it to one side on the table. Then, very neatly, she wrote on the small gift card: To dearest Bess, with much love from Grace Rose. Once she had tied the card onto the ribbon she sat back, regarding her handiwork.

      There were nine presents all beautifully wrapped and ready to be sent off to Ravenscar. Six of them were for her half sisters and brothers, and three were for her adult relatives, Aunt Cecily, Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Ned.

      Uncle Ned. Her father. She loved him the most except for her parents, Vicky and Stephen Forth. They had adopted her, brought her up since she was four years old … fourteen years of love and devotion they had given her, and they had given her a life, one that was truly wonderful, and which she wouldn’t have had without them.

      In her mind Grace Rose associated Vicky and Stephen with love, for that is what she had received from them, and continued to receive unstintingly. They had never demanded anything in return but she had responded to them with utter devotion, love and obedience.

      Within the first few weeks of her arrival in this house the three of them had become as close as any parents and a child could be. And right from the beginning she had fallen into their ways, had adapted easily to their lifestyle, been comfortable in their world of courtesy, good manners, cosseted comfort, and undeniable wealth and privilege.

      There were moments, like right now, when she thought about the courage they had shown … they had been so very brave to take her in, make her their daughter.

      She, the urchin child, existing on the streets of Whitechapel, living in an old cart, alone, scared witless and forever hungry. An urchin child dressed in ragged boys’ clothes, which were far too big, and covered in grime and dirt. A little girl who had been thrown away without a second thought, until Amos Finnister had found her and taken her to Lady Fenella and Vicky Forth at Haddon House. The three of them, and Stephen as well, had saved her life. She shuddered to think about what would have happened to her if Amos had not gone into that cul-de-sac on that particular night to eat his meat pies. And found her. She might not have lived to see the year out.

      Rising, Grace Rose stood up and went over to the looking glass which hung above the fireplace in the parlour, staring at her reflection. What she saw quite pleased her, even though she didn’t think of herself as being beautiful; she now decided that she looked attractive. She especially liked her red gold hair, which she thought of as her best asset. It fell to her shoulders in curls and waves, and was constantly admired by everyone. Her eyes were unusual, very, very blue, and she knew – everyone knew – that she looked exactly like Edward Deravenel. Even her slender nose, rounded chin and broad forehead were inherited from him.

      Grace Rose had first met him fourteen years ago, in this house, when he had rushed into the library looking for Amos and Neville Watkins. The minute she set eyes on him СКАЧАТЬ