Heirs of Ravenscar. Barbara Taylor Bradford

the bed.

      ‘Ritchie, please come out at once!’

      He did so and scrambled to his feet. Nanny looked him over, her eyes seeking out the merest speck of dust. But there was nothing on him. Straightening his black velvet jacket, Nanny muttered, ‘Well, at least we know the maids here are thorough.’

      Cecily said, ‘I want my red fwock.’

      ‘Stop saying fwock!’ Mary cried, echoing Bess.

      ‘Nanny,’ Bess said, ‘what about Young Edward? Is he coming down for Christmas lunch? Or is he too ill?’

      Nanny beamed. Young Edward was undoubtedly special to her, and she exclaimed, ‘Oh yes, indeed, your father helped him to get dressed and he took him downstairs a short while ago.’

      ‘Then we’d better go at once,’ Bess announced. ‘Father must be waiting for me.’

      ‘He’s waiting for all of you,’ Nanny replied, giving her a pointed look.

      ‘I want the baby,’ Cecily muttered. ‘Where’s Anne?’

      ‘The nursemaid has her, she’ll be taking her downstairs in a moment.’

      ‘Is she wearing blue velvet too?’ Mary asked, eyeing Nanny solemnly.

      ‘Don’t be silly, child. Of course the baby’s not wearing blue velvet. She’s wrapped in a bundle of frothy white lace right now.’

      Bess said, ‘Where’s Grandmother?’

      ‘Mrs Deravenel is downstairs also.’

      ‘You like her, don’t you, Nanny?’

      ‘Yes, I do.’

      ‘But not Mother. You don’t like her.’

      ‘What a dreadful thing to say, Bess,’ Nanny said reprovingly. ‘Of course I like your mother. She’s a beautiful lady, and very kind and considerate to me.’

      ‘But not to my father,’ Bess mumbled.

      Nanny threw her a cautionary look. ‘This conversation is not suitable, not suitable at all, and I won’t have it,’ Nanny said. There was a warning note in her voice.

      Picking up on this, Bess said softly, ‘I’m sorry, Nanny. I won’t do it again.’ Edging closer to the nanny she whispered, ‘The little ones, they don’t understand.’

      ‘You’d be surprised what they understand,’ Nanny shot back pithily. ‘Very well, let us go downstairs to join your parents and your grandmother. Stand up straight, Ritchie, you’re looking like a rag doll.’

      Richard looked up at her, and yawned. Then he said, ‘I’m hungry, Nanny.’

      ‘I am too,’ Mary announced. ‘I could eat a horse.’

      ‘That’s a vulgar expression, Mary. Please refrain from using it.’

      ‘A pony then … I could eat a pony.’

      Richard laughed with Mary and Cecily, and they giggled all the way down the corridor.

      Bess threw Nanny a sympathetic look as they followed behind. ‘What can you do with them?’ Shaking her head, Bess added, ‘But then they’re so young.’

      Nanny averted her face so that Bess wouldn’t notice the mirth bubbling to the surface. They were priceless, these children, far too grown-up for their own good. And they had seen far too much, witnessed too many quarrels that had verged on the violent. But then the mother was to blame. Poor Mr Deravenel. She couldn’t help sympathizing with him. Fancy being married to that cold, nasty woman, and he so good and kind and handsome. Poor man. Oh, that poor man.

      Bess made everyone stop at the top of the stairs, and looking at Nanny and then at her siblings, she said, ‘Grandmother put me in charge of you, so you must do as I say. We will walk downstairs sedately. And then when we get to the library you will stand in line. Like I put you yesterday. And we will sing the Christmas carol.’

      ‘I’m hungry,’ Richard wailed.

      ‘No food for you, Ritchie,’ Bess warned, ‘not ’til after the carol has been sung.’

      ‘Be careful, Ritchie,’ Nanny warned. ‘Come, let me take your hand, and we’ll go down together.’ The two-year-old, who was as blond as his brother, clung to Nanny’s hand tightly.

      The three girls followed behind.

      Once they reached the Long Hall Bess saw Jessup waiting. ‘We are going to sing our carol first, Jessup,’ Bess explained.

      ‘Yes, Miss Bess. Mrs Deravenel, that is your grandmother, told me that lunch could not be served until after you had done your rendition. And she herself will play the piano for you.’

      ‘Thank you.’ Bess gave him the benefit of one of her radiant smiles just as her father so often did.

      ‘Don’t forget to stand in a proper line,’ Bess hissed as they arrived at the doorway leading into the library. Ushering her siblings forward, she said, ‘Here we are, Father! We are going to sing a carol for you, and Mother.’

      Bess turned and smiled at Cecily Deravenel, and added, ‘And Grandmama is being very kind. She is going to play the piano for us.’

      ‘How nice, Bess!’ Edward smiled at her. ‘I hadn’t realized we were going to be treated to a Christmas concert before lunch.’

      ‘Oh but Father, it’s only one carol,’ Bess exclaimed swiftly, suddenly looking worried. ‘Because, well, I had to teach the others the words … they had to know it by heart.’

      ‘How very clever of you, Bess, clever of you all, actually.’ His eyes swept over his four children standing in a row in the doorway near the small piano, which Jessup had moved in from the music room yesterday afternoon, as he always did at Christmas. How beautiful they were, his children, with their bright blond and red gold hair. Four pairs of eyes of varying shades of blue stared back at him.

      He turned his head, looked at Elizabeth and smiled warmly.

      She was momentarily taken aback, since she had so irritated him earlier with her comments about the diamond bow. Wanting peace on this very special day of the year, she smiled back at him, then leaned closer, touched his hand, showing her affection. She felt a movement next to her and turned to Young Edward, who had drawn closer to her on the sofa. ‘Are you all right? Are you warm enough?’

      ‘Oh yes, Mama. I just wish I could sing the carol too.’ ‘I know. You don’t like being left out of anything, I realize that. Next year. You can sing next year, darling.’

      Cecily rose from the chair and walked across the room to the piano, stopping for a moment to let one hand rest on Ritchie’s head for a moment.

      He loved his grandmother, and turned his eyes to her face, gave her a huge smile. ‘I’m hungry, Granny.’

      ‘So am I, sweetheart.’ She bent down to him. ‘And we shall have turkey, stuffing and mashed potatoes in a few minutes. After the carol. Very soon, I promise.’

      Bess looked at her siblings, and murmured. ‘Cecily, you must stand next to me, because you’re taller than Mary. Come along all of you, make the straight line like yesterday.’

      Ritchie asked, ‘Am I here?’ ‘Yes, you’re the last.’ Bess took her place at the head of the line and said to her grandmother. ‘We are ready.’ ‘I will play a few bars and then I will start the carol,’ Cecily said and promptly did so.

      A split second later four young voices rang out:

      ‘Hark, the herald-angels sing

      Glory