Heirs of Ravenscar. Barbara Taylor Bradford

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Heirs of Ravenscar - Barbara Taylor Bradford


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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. I was indulging her need to bring harmony to the family.’

      ‘I know. And I promise I will be quite still tomorrow at the luncheon … I won’t say a word.’

      ‘George is not coming to the luncheon.’

      ‘Why not?’ Richard sounded and looked surprised.

      ‘He’s going away this afternoon. In fact, as we speak he’s boarding the train. He’s on his way to Scotland.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘I asked him to represent me at the meeting in Edinburgh which I had set up for this coming Friday. With Ian MacDonald, regarding his liquor empire. As you know, Ian has no heirs, and he approached me about a takeover some time ago. I’d actually made a firm date with him but cancelled two days ago, on Monday. I used the excuse of Young Edward’s illness, not wanting to be away from him, etcetera, etcetera. I proposed George as my stand-in. Ian was a bit disappointed at first, but in the end he was all right with it. After all, George is a Deravenel.’

      He doesn’t always behave like one, Richard thought, although he did not voice this, remained silent, listening carefully to Edward.

      ‘I then had a word with George –’ Edward went on.

      ‘And he agreed? Just like that?’ Richard interrupted snapping his fingers together, giving his brother a doubtful look.

      ‘He did,’ Edward answered. ‘Because I offered him an inducement that truly appealed to him. Actually, the offer was one George genuinely could not refuse.’

      ‘And what was it?’

      ‘Money. George’s favourite commodity. I said he would earn a large bonus from the company if he managed to make the deal with Ian MacDonald, a deal which has to favour Deravenels.’

      ‘And so you really want the MacDonald liquor business?’ Richard sat back.

      Edward shrugged, and there was a moment’s pause before he replied, ‘Well, yes, I suppose I do.’

      ‘George could easily blow it, you know, if he mishandles the situation. He can be extremely volatile in negotiations.’

      ‘I know that, and if he does, he does. As far as I’m concerned, the deal can go either way and I won’t lose any sleep over it. Or the final outcome. The main thing is that I’ve got George out of my hair for the rest of this week, and also for Christmas.’

      ‘What do you mean by for Christmas?’ Richard asked, his voice puzzled.

      ‘Ian had invited me to stay on in Scotland for Christmas. He wanted me to take the family up to his country estate for the holidays. I’d refused politely, because I had invited a number of people to join us at Ravenscar. Then, when I spoke to Ian on Monday I asked him if he would invite George and his family, because I had had to cancel the Christmas festivities due to Young Edward’s illness.’

      ‘And MacDonald agreed?’

      ‘He did indeed. He is widowed, and his only child, his daughter, has three little girls … I think when he invited my lot he was hoping to create a happy holiday atmosphere at his house in the Lammermuir Hills. So yes, he welcomed the idea of George and his family. I can be very persuasive.’

      ‘We all know that, Ned.’ Richard hesitated, opened his mouth to say something, and then stopped abruptly.

      Edward looked at him alertly, and asked, ‘What is it?’

      ‘I was going to say once again that you are putting the deal at risk.’

      ‘I’m fully aware of that.’ A smile spread across Edward’s face and he added, ‘The deal is not particularly crucial to Deravenels, Dick. I wouldn’t mind having Ian’s liquor company, because it flows beautifully into our wine business. However, the main consideration was to remove George for the moment.’

      Richard nodded, and looked off into the distance for a split second before saying, sotto voce, ‘George has not gone off to Scotland so happily just because you’ve promised him a large bonus. He’s a glutton for power, and you’ve just given him a big dose of it … by making him your representative.’

      ‘Good point, Richard. But let’s move on, shall we? As I mentioned earlier, I’ve something to tell you – I’d like to be done with it before lunch is served, if you don’t mind.’

      Richard merely nodded, wondering what was coming next.

      ‘Two years ago, after you and Anne were married, Nan Watkins gave you a gift. Am I not correct?’

      ‘You’re talking about the deeds to Neville’s house in Chelsea, aren’t you?’

      ‘It was never Neville’s house, Richard. It was always Nan’s house. Oh, he bought it right enough, and with his own money, but he actually bought it for Nan. He gifted it to her immediately, and the deeds are in her name, not his.’ When Richard didn’t speak, Ned asked, ‘Well, they are because I saw them myself. Nan showed them to me.’

      Richard sighed. ‘Nan gave the deeds to Anne, and she merely glanced at them, and showed me Nan’s letter. Then she put the deeds away.’

      ‘So you never saw them?’

      ‘No. Why? Does it matter? After all, Nan gave us the house.’

      ‘No, she didn’t, Richard. I gave you the house.’

      Startled, Richard exclaimed, ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘Just before you were married, actually quite a few months before, I went to see Nan Watkins. I told her I wanted to purchase the Chelsea house from her because I wanted to give it to you and Anne. At first she didn’t want to sell. She had actually had the same idea, and was going to give it to you both as a wedding present. However, I pointed out one thing to her, and it was this – that George, being the way he is, so dreadfully greedy, might object if she gave the house to you and Anne. I mentioned that he might actually try to get it away from you, by reminding her that Isabel and Anne are the joint heirs to Neville’s estate after her death. And, there-fore, Isabel was part owner of the house by rights.’

      ‘You’re correct, Ned! He could have done that! He’s certainly capable of it, devious enough. And avaricious, as you say. So how did you persuade her to sell it to you?’ Richard asked swiftly, filled


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