Название: Heirs of Ravenscar
Автор: Barbara Taylor Bradford
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Историческая литература
isbn: 9780007279524
isbn:
‘I see.’ Richard sat back, his expression still one of anger.
‘And you did marry Anne,’ Cecily pointed out in a quiet voice.
‘Practically in secret, here at Ravenscar. A tiny wedding ceremony, with no guests except the immediate family,’ Richard answered grimly, shaking his head. ‘I just don’t understand why it is that George has to be accommodated all the time. I really don’t. And personally I think he’s crazy. Let’s not forget our cousin Henry Grant, who spent a lot of time in lunatic asylums …’
Ned threw back his head and guffawed, looked amused. ‘Oh, Richard, that’s a beauty! Are you suggesting that the bad genes carried by Henry Deravenel Grant of Lancaster might well be inherent in the Deravenels of Yorkshire, the true heirs of Guy de Ravenel? The real Deravenels, as we say about ourselves.’
If Edward had hoped Richard would see the joke he was wrong. His youngest brother shook his head, the grim expression making his mouth taut. ‘I think George is crackers. Just consider the daft things he does at times … then you’ll see what I mean.’
‘Richard, really, I don’t believe that is a very nice thing to say about George. He can be very kind, and he does mean well,’ Cecily answered.
No, he doesn’t, Richard thought, but said, ‘If you say so, Mother. Let’s close the discussion about George, shall we?’
Ned said, ‘I am going to cancel the Christmas festivities, Dick, but if you and Anne wish to come for Christmas you know how much we’d love that, wouldn’t we, Mother?’
‘Of course. I haven’t seen my grandson for ages. Perhaps Nan Watkins would like to come as well, rather than staying alone in Ripon.’
‘I doubt that very much, Mother,’ Richard said softly. ‘She doesn’t like to come to Ravenscar anymore, so I am led to understand. It reminds her of her tragic loss. After all, her beloved husband and her favourite brother-in-law Johnny met their deaths here.’
London
‘Why don’t you tell him about the house, Ned? He really ought to know the true story, the full story.’
Edward Deravenel sat back in his chair, and regarded Will Hasling, his best friend. He and Will had been boon companions for many years, and colleagues at Deravenels for fourteen, ever since Edward had become managing director. And he trusted Will as he trusted no other man, except for his brother Richard.
Loyaulté Me Lie, loyalty binds me: That was Richard’s adopted motto and he was ever faithful to it.
It was Richard they were talking about this morning, facing each other across Edward’s desk, in his office at Deravenels.
‘I never wanted to go into all the details,’ Edward explained, ‘about the house. Don’t you think it would look strange? What I mean is, don’t you think it could appear that I’m boasting about all the things I’ve done for him over the years? Signalling that he’s obligated to me, perhaps?’
‘He might think that, but frankly I rather doubt it,’ Will answered, shaking his head emphatically. ‘No, no, it won’t look that way at all. It’s ridiculous to even think that, Ned. And he should know. And once he understands everything, he won’t continue to harbour a grudge and think that you put George before him … that is, if he does think that.’
‘Actually, you’re quite right, Will. I’ll be frank with him.’
‘Would you like me to explain the way things are?’
Edward couldn’t help laughing. ‘You know, that had crossed my mind, but I quickly dismissed the idea as being somewhat silly, since I haven’t done anything wrong, quite the contrary, in fact.’
Continuing to chuckle to himself, Edward Deravenel pushed himself to his feet, walked across the floor to one of the tall windows, glanced down at the Strand, thinking how congested with traffic it was today. But then it was the Wednesday before Christmas, and London was busier than ever. This was the first festive Christmas in four years, now that the War was finally over. People were determined to celebrate, to have a good time, to rejoice that peace had come at last.
Christmas for his family was going to be exceptionally quiet at Ravenscar, but he didn’t mind. He rather welcomed it, if the truth be known. He had cancelled all of the invitations which had been sent to friends, and everyone had understood his dilemma, understood that he was endeavouring to protect Young Edward. And them as well. Only George had been truculent, as usual. Quite vile, actually.
Turning around, Edward strolled back to the centre of the floor and stood there for a few seconds, a reflective expression settling on his handsome face.
Finally, glancing at Will, he said, very softly, ‘The upset this past weekend was really my mother’s fault, Will, in a sense. Her desire to unite the family does seem to cloud her normal good judgement. She simply can’t accept that Richard cannot stand George anymore, or that Elizabeth detests him because he and Neville Watkins were responsible for the ruination of her father and brother. She would rather see George burning in hell than entertain him at Ravenscar. Unfortunately, my mother appears to brush everything to one side, keeps harping on about forgiving and forgetting, letting bygones by bygones. Because we are a family.’ He shook his head sadly, and finished in a Cockney accent, ‘That ain’t the way it is, me old mate, now is it?’
‘No. And George has always been Elizabeth’s enemy since your marriage. He loathes her as much as she loathes him …’ Will’s voice trailed off. There was no point in reminding Edward that people disliked his wife. Very beautiful she might be, but she was not a very nice woman. Her ambition for her family knew no bounds. She had inveigled Edward into giving several of her brothers positions at Deravenels, and Anthony Wyland, her favourite, played a powerful role in the company these days. But this brother he liked, knew him to be a decent man, talented, and worthy of respect.
After a moment’s silence between them, Edward changed the subject, remarked in a more buoyant voice, ‘Jarvis Merson’s been in touch with me. Yesterday evening. He’s after us to start up again in Persia. Drilling for oil. In Southern Persia, to be exact. He wants us to buy another concession from the Shah. Because we’re doing so well in Louisiana, he thinks we should begin expanding, now that the war is over.’
Sitting down behind his desk, Edward continued, ‘It’s not the right time, I know that, Will. However, I have decided to create a company, so that we’re ready to go ahead when things are right in the world, once we have all recovered from this awful Spanish flu pandemic, and recouped from the War –’
‘I agree it’s too soon to think about oil in Persia,’ Will interjected, leaning forward intently. ‘There’s far too much turmoil everywhere. I’m convinced we have to sit it out for the whole of this coming year. First, let’s get through 1919, and then seriously consider drilling for oil in mid-1920. I believe that’s when we should take the plunge. Not before. I know you’ve always had an odd rather compelling belief in Jarvis, and so do I, actually. He’s proved himself a thousandfold СКАЧАТЬ