The Journey Home. Fiona Hood-Stewart
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and mused. “I’m going to have enough to do here as it is without a bunch of panicked tenants and staff on my hands.” Serena flicked back a strand of her long blond hair with a disdainful sniff.
India said nothing. She knew very little about the intricacies of running an estate, but imagined they must not be easy. Serena spoke as though she already owned the place, and India wondered with a pang if she’d be a good caretaker. It would make sense if Serena inherited. After all, she was a part of this closed little social enclave, where she herself was—or at least had been made to feel—an outcast.
“The home farm has to be dealt with. As for the shoot—But I shouldn’t be boring you with things that you know nothing about. I’ll just have to get on with it, I suppose—unless I decide to sell,” she added casually.
“Sell?” India asked, dismayed despite herself. “But there have been Dunbars here for over seven hundred years, Serena. I gather things aren’t in great shape financially, but surely everything should be done to try and hold on to the property. I think that’s what Mummy would have expected.”
“I don’t know if I’m prepared to go to all the trouble and expense of keeping the place. Plus, think of the money I’d make. You don’t have to worry about that sort of thing, do you?” Serena raised a haughty eyebrow.
Up until that morning India hadn’t thought seriously about the will, her mind too consumed with the shock of her mother’s death, but her hackles rose at Serena’s blithe disregard for the estate she apparently already assumed was hers. “If you mean, can I get by with what I make? Yes, I can. It’s taken me a few years but things are running pretty smoothly at La Dolce Vita, and this last job in Brazil finally got rid of the mortgage on Chantemerle. But that has nothing to do with this. I don’t know that I want to sell Dunbar.”
Serena looked astonished. “Who says you’ll have anything to do with it? You don’t really think Mummy would expect me to share Dunbar with you?”
“I see no reason why not,” India answered levelly. “You seem to forget that I have as much of her blood as you.”
“Yes, unfortunately. Mummy was a traitor to me and to her class. She had no business marrying your father, and much less having you. She owes me Dunbar.”
India controlled her temper with an effort, finally understanding Serena’s veiled sarcastic comments over the past years. She stood up and went to the fireplace.
“It must be lovely to waltz through life so completely convinced of one’s innate superiority, Serena, but forgive me if I don’t curtsy and kiss your ring. You have no right to speak to me like that,” she said, her voice controlled.
“I’ll tell you exactly what gives me the right. I was born before you and my father was a nobleman. You are nothing but a bad mistake, one that Mummy regretted but was too proud to do anything about. I suppose you think that if you inherit Dunbar you’ll become one of us. But you won’t, you know. You’ll always be an outcast.” She gave a short, harsh laugh.
“Surely you don’t think I care what society thinks of me?” India gave an astonished laugh. “I stopped worrying about fitting in years ago. What I’m worried about is Dunbar, about the land and the people, like Mrs. Walker and old Tompson, who’ve worked here for thirty-some years and now have nowhere to go. Surely that must mean something to you, Serena?” India struggled to master her fury, swallowing the bile that rose bitterly in her throat and clenching her fists till her knuckles turned white. “And as for rights, I am as much a part of this family as you, whether you like it or not. This is the home of my ancestors, too, and there is no reason why I shouldn’t have exactly as much say when it comes to Dunbar’s future.”
“You’re either nuts, India, or you simply don’t understand these things.” Serena shook her head pityingly and reached for more coffee.
“Good morning, ladies.” The sound of a guttural male voice made India spin on her heel. Maxi, Serena’s German boyfriend, stood in the doorway, pasty and stiff with his formal bow and immaculate dress. His blond hair was cut short, with geometrical precision, and slicked back from his forehead. He’d obviously had his ear glued to the door, she realized angrily.
She looked him over, studying the supercilious twist of his lips, the watery blue eyes void of expression, wondering, not for the first time, what Serena could possibly see in him. And she refused to discuss their family affairs in front of strangers.
“I’m going upstairs,” she announced, not bothering to conceal her dislike.
“Temper, temper,” Serena murmured as India prepared to leave. She turned to Maxi, laughing. “India actually thinks Mummy might have left her Dunbar,” she exclaimed with an amused smirk as he moved over to the table and sat down.
At least he had the grace to appear uncomfortable, India noted. But she didn’t like the ease with which he settled at the table, looking for all the world as though he owned the place.
“Don’t be late for the reading of the will,” Serena threw at her. “A mere formality I’m sure, but one that has to be gone through. Then we’ll know exactly how things stand, won’t we, India dear?”
“Yes, we shall,” India replied curtly, staring Serena straight in the eye. “But let me make one thing perfectly clear. He’s not to be here for the reading of the will. This is a family affair.”
“How dare you speak like that to poor Maxi, when he was so kind to Mummy.” Serena’s voice rose angrily.
“Hmm. Tell me, Serena, why was Mummy so anxious for me to come here? Why did she write to me, requesting I come in person?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, India. But I’ll have whoever I want in this house.”
“Not until we know whose house it is.” She turned and faced Maxi, who stared at her with undisguised disdain. “I think you’ve both been trying to pressure Mummy to sell Dunbar, and that’s why she was so upset.”
Serena rose abruptly, and the two women faced each other. “Don’t you dare speak to me or any of my friends like that. Pressuring Mummy indeed.” Serena leaned forward, blond strands falling wildly about her face. “You say one more word and—”
“I’ve taken about as much rudeness from you as I’m prepared to stand, Serena,” India replied, knowing she was losing her temper, but beyond caring. “I won’t have you insulting Mummy’s memory on the day of her funeral with your abominable behavior. At least you could pretend you care.”
“How dare you? How dare you speak to me in that tone?” Serena’s voice rose to an even higher pitch.
“I should have spoken to you like this years ago, but I never did because I didn’t want to upset Mummy, and I had the misbegotten idea that someday we might actually get on together.”
Serena cast India an angry look and returned to her seat at the head of the table.
“Serena, darling, calm down, my dear.” Maxi walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“I’m sure you understand that this is a family affair and that you have no business here. It’s nothing personal,” India said, addressing him as calmly as she could.
“He’s not leaving. I have every right to have him here. We’re getting married, after all. At least I can hold on to a man.”
“You’re wasting your time, Serena. I refuse to rise to your bait.” India turned on her heel and walked from the room, closing the door loudly behind her.
She sighed with relief, unclenching her fists, and headed quickly up the stairs and along the passage to her bedroom. There she lay down on the bed, determined to calm down before the reading of the will, careful not to wrinkle her clothes. The Chanel suit was special, a gift from Lady Elspeth a few years back when money had been no object. India smiled. Her mother had always been so chic, she’d want her to look her best today.
She