Heirs of Ravenscar. Barbara Taylor Bradford

       Truth & Love

       Chapter Thirty-One

       Chapter Thirty-Two

       Chapter Thirty-Three

       Chapter Thirty-Four

       Chapter Thirty-Five

       Chapter Thirty-Six

       Chapter Thirty-Seven

       Chapter Thirty-Eight

       Chapter Thirty-Nine

      

       PART THREE

       Bess

       Loyalty Binds Me

       Chapter Forty

       Chapter Forty-One

       Chapter Forty-Two

       Chapter Forty-Three

       Chapter Forty-Four

       Chapter Forty-Five

       Chapter Forty-Six

       Chapter Forty-Seven

       Chapter Forty-Eight

       Chapter Forty-Nine

       Chapter Fifty

       Chapter Fifty-One

       Chapter Fifty-Two

       Chapter Fifty-Three

      

       PART FOUR

       The Turners

       Harry’s Women

       Chapter Fifty-Four

       Chapter Fifty-Five

       Chapter Fifty-Six

       Chapter Fifty-Seven

       Chapter Fifty-Eight

       Chapter Fifty-Nine

       Chapter Sixty

       Chapter Sixty-One

       Chapter Sixty-Two

       Chapter Sixty-Three

      

      EPILOGUE

      BIBLIOGRAPHY

      ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

       ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      BOOKS BY BARBARA TAYLOR BRADFORD

       ABOUT THE PUBLISHER

       Part One

       The Deravenels

       Dangerous Triangle

      Edward was of a gentle nature and cheerful aspect: nevertheless should he assume an angry countenance he could appear very terrible to beholders. He was easy of access to his friends and to others, even the least notable.

       Dominic Mancini

      When the Plantagenets started to kill each other the downfall of the dynasty began.

      London citizen: 15th century

      Ah, me, I see the ruin of my House!

      The tiger now hath seiz’d the gentle hind;

      Insulting tyranny brings to jet

      Upon the innocent and aweless throne:-

      Welcome destruction, blood and massacre!

      I see, as in a map, the end of all.

       William Shakespeare:

      Richard III,

       Act II, Scene IV

ONE

      Yorkshire 1918

      It was a compulsion, the way he came down to this stretch of beach whenever he returned to Ravenscar.

      A compulsion indeed, but also an overwhelming need to recapture, in his mind’s eye, their faces … their faces not yet cold and waxen in death, but still warm. Neville, his mentor, his partner in so many schemes and adventures; Johnny, the beloved companion of his youth. He had loved them well and true, these Watkins brothers, these cousins of his who had been his allies.

      At least until a mixture of hurt feelings, overweening ambition, flaring emotions and dangerous elements had intervened and prised them apart. They had become sworn enemies, much to Edward’s chagrin, a pain which had never ceased to trouble him. And now Johnny and Neville were dead.

      Edward raised his head, looked up at the clear blue sky, blameless, without cloud, a sky that appeared so summer-like and benign on this icy Saturday morning in December. Unexpectedly, his eyes felt moist; he blinked back sudden, incipient tears, shook his