Heirs of Ravenscar. Barbara Taylor Bradford
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Название: Heirs of Ravenscar
Автор: Barbara Taylor Bradford
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Историческая литература
isbn: 9780007279524
isbn:
‘I’ve heard the same stories. However, I do trust Jarvis’s nose for oil. He and his new partner, Herb Lipson, are an unbeatable team, in my opinion. Anyway, as I just said, I aim to start a new company. I want to be ready. I’m thinking of calling it Deravco. How does that sound to you?’
Will grinned. ‘Sounds like an oil company to me. And it’s short. And sweet, let’s hope.’
There was a sudden loud knock on the door; Edward glanced across the room and called, ‘Come in.’ He immediately jumped up, a wide smile flashing across his face when he saw his brother in the doorway.
‘There you are, Richard!’ he cried enthusiastically. Grabbing Richard by the shoulders, he smothered him in a bear hug. ‘Did you get my message about lunch?’
‘I did. That’s why I came down to your office, to find out what time you wish to leave,’ Richard answered.
‘Pick me up at twelve forty-five and we’ll walk across to the Savoy Hotel,’ Ned said.
When Richard and Will left his office, Edward sat for a few minutes, going through the papers on his desk. After perusing them conscientiously, and making notes on a pad, he sat back in the chair and stared out into the room.
His mind went to the oil business in Southern Persia, and he felt a little rush of genuine excitement. He had always believed that oil was the business of the future; he wanted Deravenels to own more than their stake in Louisiana, and Merson was just the man to make his dream come true. He had believed in Jarvis from the day he had met that bright if rather talkative young man. And he had been proven right in his assessment of him.
Yesterday, when he had been meeting with Alfredo Oliveri to talk about the marble quarries in Italy, Oliveri had suggested they look farther afield, perhaps investigate the quarries in Turkey.
Swivelling around in his chair, Edward gazed at the map which hung on the wall behind him. His father’s map of the world, with all its little numbers written in so neatly. There was Persia sitting right next to Turkey. Perhaps they could kill two birds with one stone. He and Oliveri could go to Turkey to see about marble and then move on to Persia to see about oil.
Not yet, of course. Alfredo had pointed that out most vociferously. Europe was still in upheaval and disarray, and it was not possible to pursue the idea of buying Turkish marble quarries until travelling became much easier. And, as he and Will had just agreed, the same reasoning applied to oil.
Just the prospect of these trips gave him a boost, helped to dispel some of the irritation he was feeling about his brother George.
Opening his engagement book, Edward looked at the notations he had made in them last week. Always methodical, he wrote in his lunch date with Richard, and then frowned. He had arranged to see Jane tonight. For dinner. And he still had to buy a gift for her.
Today was the eighteenth, exactly one week from Christmas Day, and on Friday afternoon he was taking the train back to York and then driving out to Ravenscar. Tomorrow he had the private luncheon for his close friends in the company, a lunch he always gave across the street at Rules. Tomorrow night he was dining with Vicky and Stephen Firth. He had already bought their Christmas gifts, and also one for Grace Rose.
His lovely Grace Rose, growing more like him than ever, and already almost eighteen. Eighteen, he muttered under his breath, and he wondered where all the years had gone.
Because of his plans for the rest of the week, he had no alternative but to find a present for Jane today. After his lunch with Richard he would go to one of the fine jewellers. She loved emeralds, and that was what he would get her … emerald earrings or an emerald brooch.
As he flipped through the pages of his engagement book, Edward suddenly realized with a sense of dismay that he would be in Yorkshire for almost ten days. Ten days. Rather a long time to be ensconced with Elizabeth. Perhaps there was a way he could rectify that. Just as he had managed to rectify the problem of George and the private luncheon tomorrow. He had not wanted him to come. Once he had cancelled the invitation for George and his family to visit Ravenscar for Christmas because of Young Edward’s illness, George had behaved in his usual spoilt way. He had thrown a tantrum. To quiet George down, placate him, he had suggested that his brother should go to Scotland to represent him at a business meeting.
Edward smiled to himself, a smile that also held a hint of smugness. The ploy had worked. George had jumped at the chance to wheel and deal with the Scottish tycoon, Ian MacDonald. Good riddance, he thought, rather pleased with himself, and then got up, went to the cupboard on the other side of the room. Opening the double doors, he stepped inside and began to turn the dial of his safe, until it finally clicked open. Taking out a slim folder of papers, he closed the safe door and locked it.
A clean slate next year, he reminded himself. I want a clean slate next year. I’ve a lot of changes to make.
Richard and Edward sat opposite each other in the handsomely decorated Grill Room of the Savoy Hotel. After toasting each other with their flutes of Krug champagne, they had looked at the menus and ordered.
They had both chosen Colchester oysters, to be followed by steak-and-kidney pie, having similar tastes in food, as well as in other things. They shared a love of fine clothing, although Richard was much more conservative than his brother.
They enjoyed talking about books, English politics, and the coverage given to world events by the daily newspapers. They saw eye-to-eye on almost everything, because Edward had raised Richard after their father had been murdered in Italy, and he had imbued in the younger boy a love of justice and fair play.
Like Edward, Richard was a compassionate man who understood the pain and suffering of others, and was empathetic to their plight. Ned had favoured Richard since his childhood, spoilt him, made him feel special, and he had protected him in every way. And so naturally he was Edward’s loyal ally, and defender, whenever that was necessary. Richard admired Ned, adored him.
The two brothers settled back in their chairs and sipped this finest and most expensive of all French champagnes. After a moment or two of silence, Edward leaned forward. ‘Look, Dick, there’s something I want to tell –’
Interrupting him swiftly, Richard exclaimed, ‘Before you say anything, I must apologize, Ned. I was wrong to quarrel with you about George, last Saturday. I’ve no excuse really, except to say that I let my hurt feelings get the better of me. I’m so very sorry.’
‘There’s nothing to apologize for, Little Fish,’ Edward murmured, affection ringing his face.
The use of this pet name from his childhood brought a smile to Richard’s mouth, and he suddenly began to laugh. ‘I’m a bit too old to be called Little Fish, don’t you think, Ned?’
His brother joined in his laughter, then answered, ‘No, because you’re only twenty-two, my boy. However, it was my fault, truly. I should have put my foot down when Mother asked me to permit him to come, after he had actually invited himself. СКАЧАТЬ