Название | The Complete Ravenscar Trilogy: The Ravenscar Dynasty, Heirs of Ravenscar, Being Elizabeth |
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Автор произведения | Barbara Taylor Bradford |
Жанр | Исторические любовные романы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Исторические любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9780007514533 |
Opening the door and standing back, John looked at Margot and said in a low voice, ‘After you, please.’
He was silent as he walked with her down the corridor to his office, and it was only when they were inside and he had closed the door that he turned on her, his anger rising. ‘I know you are probably responsible for the attack on Deravenel, so please don’t deny it. I think you hired thugs to beat him up.’
She looked at him intently, her dark eyes holding his, and then leaning closer, she said softly, ‘Why are you so angry, my dear? Apparently he got a whipping. Someone taught him a lesson, and that makes me happy. And that’s the end of it. The end of Ned Deravenel. He will not be a problem anymore. Someone did us a favour.’ She was jubilant.
Grasping her arm tightly, leaning into her, his face filled with fury, John Summers said in a harsh but controlled voice, ‘You foolish, foolish woman. This is not the end of anything. It is the beginning of a war. You have just unleashed a terrible force.’
‘Oh John, do not be so silly…so melodramatic—’
‘There’s going to be a catastrophe,’ he hissed, glaring at her with sudden animosity. ‘They will retaliate. I have no doubt about that.’
Margot Grant looked genuinely puzzled. ‘I do not understand—’
‘No, you don’t,’ he snapped. ‘And there is another matter we must clarify. It is this. Please do not bring Henry to the office until he is in better health. And if that should happen, and you do choose to bring him, please make sure he is properly dressed, and not so dishevelled.’
‘John, please, let us not quarrel, not you and I. You know I do not wish to upset you. I am your friend, your ally—’ Remembering his manners he nodded, and said in a less angry tone, ‘I know you mean well, Margot. Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to do.’
She stared at him, still nonplussed by his anger of a moment ago. And without another word she turned sharply on her heels and left.
Once he was alone John Summers gazed at the door, and snapped his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them he shook his head as he went to his desk.
Why in God’s name had he ever succumbed to that woman’s charms? But he had, and he had no one else to blame but himself. Thank God, he had never been intimate with her. Their relationship was still only a flirtation, which must now end.
Aubrey Masters left Deravenels early that day.
Once a week he went to see his supplier, and today seemed like a good day to stop by the small shop to purchase his roots and grains. It was a sunny afternoon, quite mild for March, and as he walked up the Strand at a brisk pace he endeavoured to shed his anxieties about business.
John Summers was in a fury about Margot Grant, that was obvious, and he couldn’t say he blamed him. She was always interfering in things, and this did not sit right with John or some of the other executives at Deravenels. He himself found her irritating; besides which, there was no room for women in the company. It was not their place to be involved in business. And so Mrs Grant should not be there. Being the wife of Henry Grant was no reason at all to permit her presence in a man’s world of commerce.
Aubrey’s thoughts veered away from Margot Grant and settled on Alfredo Oliveri. Now there was an enigma. He had never liked the man, had always found him ambitious, competitive and absorbed by his sense of entitlement. Oliveri had worked for the company all of his adult life and believed this made him special, gave him untold privileges.
Years ago Aubrey had wondered if Oliveri wanted his job, and this idea had lately surfaced yet again. Oliveri was hanging around London far too long at the moment, continuing to stretch out his time at the London office. Now Aubrey couldn’t help wondering why this was; Oliveri ought to be back in Italy, doing what he was supposed to be doing. Could it be that Oliveri was a traitor? This unexpected thought jolted Aubrey. Was Oliveri in cahoots with Edward Deravenel? Was he now in his camp? Had he changed sides? The more Aubrey thought about it the more he believed it to be true. Why else would Oliveri be hanging around headquarters? Also, he had just learned that Oliveri was helping Deravenel understand the many divisions in the company, from mining to wine-making apparently.
Once again, it struck Aubrey that Oliveri really did want his job, and that was undoubtedly why he had allied himself with Ned Deravenel. Perhaps they had become close in Carrara. I must find a way to discredit Alfredo Oliveri, he thought, get him out of the company, and the sooner the better. This is my priority.
So busy was Aubrey Masters with his planning and plotting, lost in his thoughts, he had not noticed that a well-dressed couple had fallen in behind him and were following him up the Strand, at a distance.
Continuing on his regular route he crossed Trafalgar Square, wending his way through the jostling crowds. Intent on his destination, once more he had no idea at all that another person was now following him as well as the couple. This was a young woman, nicely dressed, but not quite as fashionably as the man and woman. After a quick, brief word with them, the young woman fell in behind them, but again keeping her distance. However, she made certain they were always in her sights, as they had instructed her to do.
Although it was a fairly long walk from the Strand to Piccadilly, Aubrey was enjoying it this afternoon. Striding along the wide thoroughfare he glanced to his left at one moment and immediately noticed how verdant Green Park was looking, living up to its name. Spring was not too far away.
Turning down Half Moon Street, Aubrey was on Curzon Street within seconds. He thought of going into his favourite barbershop to purchase a bottle of his aftershave lotion, and then changed his mind. He was far too anxious to reach Shepherd’s Market.
It was at this moment that the young woman who had been following him turned the corner of Half Moon Street herself. And she hurried to catch up with Aubrey Masters. She was a little out of breath when she tapped him on his arm and said, ‘Sir, please excuse me.’
Startled, and also irritated, Aubrey swung around forcefully, sharp words springing to his tongue. But when he found himself staring at one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen, the words remained unsaid. Her genuine loveliness startled him, and he found himself asking in a warm voice, ‘How can I be of assistance to you, young lady?’
‘I’m sorry to trouble you,’ she apologized, smiling at him, showing lovely white teeth, ‘but I’m not from these parts, and I find myself lost. I’m looking for Shepherd’s Market, but I can’t find it.’
Struck by the sweetness of her smile and her soft voice, Aubrey beamed at her and exclaimed, ‘I will be happy to help you. It just so happens I am going to Shepherd’s Market myself. So come along, let us walk there together. It’s not far, just up the street.’
The girl smiled again. ‘What a relief. And how kind of you, sir, to take me there.’ Falling into step with Aubrey, she went on, ‘Is it a big place, Shepherd’s Market? Do they sell many different things?’
‘Oh yes indeed, but it’s quite a small area, compact, actually.’ Looking down at her, he was struck by her beauty again. She was delightful in his eyes. ‘And I suppose you are looking for some pretty things for yourself?’ he murmured in a voice that was wholly unfamiliar to him.
The young woman shook her head. ‘Oh no, sir, I am hoping to find the shop that sells grains and pods, and other vegetarian things. For my mother. She has been very ill. Her stomach’s been acting up, and a friend advised her to forgo such foods as meat and fowl, to eat much more lightly. She now wants to partake of vegetables and the like.’
‘How curious!’ Aubrey answered, his eyes sparkling. ‘I myself am a vegetarian, and it just so happens I am going to that very shop you’re looking for.’
‘How