Power of a Woman. Barbara Taylor Bradford
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more sonorous and emotional than Larry’s, in my opinion anyway. It was the Celt in him, the Welsh in him, we love words so, us Welsh do. And as they always say in our native valleys of Wales, he had a bell in every tooth. Usually they say that about a singing voice, but it can be applied to a speaking voice as well, you know. As far as Rich was concerned, that is. His voice literally rang with feeling, and I for one could listen to him for hours.”
“As we all could, and did,” Blair reminded him.
“I think I’d better check with Cappi about lunch,” Stevie exclaimed, and rose, began to walk across the great hall. “I should find out how things are progressing. And anyway, they probably need a bit of help in the kitchen.”
“I’ll come with you, darling,” Blair murmured, and followed her daughter.
Chloe called, “Do you need me, Mom?”
“No, darling, we can manage, I’m sure,” Stevie answered over her shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen.
Derek strolled across to the tray of drinks on a large Jacobean chest, picked up the bottle of white wine, and swung to face Miles, showing him the bottle. “Need yours topped up?”
“No thanks, Gramps, I’m fine.”
Derek poured himself another glass of the wine and then walked back to the fireside. He sat down on the sofa next to Chloe and, glancing across at Miles, he asked, “How’re the sets coming along for The King and I?”
“Pretty good, actually. It’s a fabulous play to work on, and I can really give my imagination free rein with this one. Temple bells and Buddhas, carved elephants, exotic fabrics, lots of gold and silver. And jewels. And vivid colors. All of those things that help to recreate the palace in Siam are really very visual, and have tremendous impact from the stage. And, I have to say, the costumes are sensational, especially Anna’s…all those lovely floating crinolines.”
“As a musical, it does take a lot of beating because it is such a fabulous play to look at, quite aside from listen to.” One of Derek’s brows lifted eloquently as he now asked, “How’s Martine Mason faring? How is she as Anna?”
“She’s good, Gramps, and so is Ben Tresner as the king. He may not be Yul Brynner, and Martine’s certainly no Deborah Kerr, but I think we’ve got a winning package.”
“And therefore a hit, presumably.”
“From your mouth to God’s ears, Gramps!” Chloe exclaimed.
The two men exchanged amused looks and laughed.
Cappi appeared suddenly in the great hall and beckoned to Chloe. “Your mother wants you to come and help us, nothing too complicated. We just need another pair of hands for a few minutes.”
“I don’t care if it is complicated, you know I’m very good at complicated things,” Chloe shot back, and ran across the room, exclaiming to her brother and grandfather, “Excuse me, I won’t be long, and please don’t talk about me while I’m gone.”
Again they laughed in amusement. Derek said, “You should be so lucky.”
Once they were alone, Miles rose, took a chair closer to Derek, and began. “I want to ask you something before Ma comes back from the kitchen.”
Derek looked at him with alertness, wondering what this was all about. “Go ahead, Miles old chap. I’m all ears. What’s troubling you? And I guess you are troubled, if the look on your face is anything to go by.”
“Yes, I am troubled. I’m worried about Gideon.”
“Oh.” Derek sat up straighter, giving Miles his full attention.
“I know you saw Gideon when he came to Los Angeles on business three weeks ago, and I just wondered what you thought. I mean—” Miles paused, cleared his throat, and went on. “What I mean is…well, what did you think about Gideon? His demeanor? His behavior?”
Without even having to think about this, Derek answered immediately. “He seemed relatively normal to me. But what are you driving at?”
“I saw him last week, when I was in London for a few days, and…well…frankly, I thought he seemed a bit under the weather, not himself at all.”
“I see. However, Miles, I can honestly say I didn’t notice anything different about him. No, not quite true, actually. He was a bit vague the second night we saw him for dinner. I’d even go so far as to say he was remote, and now that I think about it more carefully, he was somewhat distracted.”
“He was depressed when I was with him, and morose,” Miles said.
“He’s always been a bit gloomy, Miles, even as a child,” Derek pointed out. “You might look alike, but your personalities are very different.”
“I know. But listen, his moroseness has been more pronounced than usual. And you didn’t notice it then?” Miles stared at his grandfather.
Derek shook his head. “No, and neither did your grandmother, or she would have mentioned it to me. As I just said, he appeared to be distracted, as if he were preoccupied about something, and he was a bit distant. Looking back now, I remember I thought his mind must be on business. But that’s all.” Derek’s eyebrows furrowed. “Tell me something, why didn’t you want your mother to hear this conversation?”
“You know how she worries. And about everything.”
“Yes, but she’s always coped, no matter what’s been flung at her. And brilliantly so, I might add.”
“That’s true. But I didn’t want to bring Gideon up today, not on Thanksgiving. You know, it’s her most favorite holiday of all. I didn’t want to spoil it for her, voicing my concern about my twin.”
Derek was chuckling. “Oh, I know it’s her favorite holiday, and none of us has escaped it. Ever. I’ve eaten more of your mother’s turkey over the years than I care to remember, and it’s not even my favorite bird. I prefer duck, pheasant, or partridge any day. But she hasn’t ever listened to me, at least not about turkeys anyway.”
Miles half smiled, and wondered whether to bring up his elder brother. After a moment’s thought he decided he would do so, since Derek had always been his confidant, and like a father to him all his life. He said slowly, “Has Ma mentioned Nigel to you?”
“No, she hasn’t, but then, Blair and I haven’t seen her in New York. We’ve been back from Los Angeles only a few days, and she seems to have been awfully busy at Jardine’s. Is there something wrong with Nigel too, in your considered opinion, Miles?”
“No, not that I know of. However, Ma’s indicated to me a few times that she thinks he’s…sort of—” Cutting himself off, Miles hesitated, and then, dropping his voice an octave, he finished in a stage whisper, “Plotting against her.”
“Ah, I see.” There was a dramatic pause. Then, holding Miles with his eyes, Derek intoned, “Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.”
“I suppose there’s truth in that. Shakespeare always got it right, didn’t he? And you should know, you’ve been in enough of his dramas.”
A thoughtful look crossed the actor’s expressive face, and he was silent for a moment or two, and then he asked quietly, “Do you believe he’s plotting, Miles?”
“I…I just don’t know.”
“I know your mother. She doesn’t imagine things, she’s far too pragmatic for that. Therefore, if she thinks he is, then he is. Although, to be truthful, I’m damned if I know the reason he would do such a thing. After all, the business will be his one day.”
“Maybe he’s in a hurry.”
“I can’t imagine the reason.”
“Neither can I, Gramps.”