Emma’s Secret. Barbara Taylor Bradford

façade.

      He had been sixteen years old when he had first stepped into the Stone Hall with Emma and his father. She had wanted to show them the house, which she had just bought, and they had been impressed with its grandeur. ‘Wasted space,’ she had muttered to Blackie that day, glancing around the great hall. And in the end she had turned it into one of the most splendid living rooms he had ever seen.

      Despite its grand size, it had warmth and intimacy, because Emma had used large pieces of handsome Jacobean and Tudor furniture made of dark mellow woods, and comfortable oversized sofas and chairs.

      To Bryan it looked exactly the way it had the day Emma had finished it, although he knew Paula had done a lot of refurbishing over the years. But she had kept Emma’s basic style, as she usually did in these things. And like Emma she had filled the room with flowering plants, which were housed in blue-and-white pots and copper buckets. Today, the tops of the polished wood tables and consoles were alive with pink, amber, and yellow chrysanthemums, orange-red amaryllis, and many of the white orchids that Paula loved and nurtured in the greenhouse.

      A moment later Linnet was back with his whiskey and a small glass of sherry for herself. After handing him the whiskey, she clinked her glass to his. ‘Cheers,’ they said in unison.

      Bryan took a sip, then murmured in a reflective tone, ‘I suppose you were up on those Godforsaken moors because something is troubling you.’

      Linnet nodded, but did not volunteer anything.

      He wondered if she was worrying about her relationship with Julian, and he asked, as casually as possible, ‘Want to talk about it?’

      Linnet hesitated fractionally, then answered in a slightly hesitant voice, ‘It’s Tessa. I’m worried about her. What I mean is, I’m concerned about her attitude towards me, Gramps. She’s so hostile these days.’

      ‘Nothing new about that, is there?’ he asked, a snowy brow lifting quizzically.

      ‘Not really … I suppose. She’s often been odd with me at different times. Somewhat bullying when I was little, as you well remember. And bossy since we’ve been working at Harte’s.’

      ‘Competitive with you, Linnet, wouldn’t you say?’

      ‘I suppose so,’ she agreed finally.

      Bryan was silent for a moment, ruminating, and then he remarked softly, ‘Ants in her pants, I’m afraid.’

      Linnet threw her grandfather a puzzled look. ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘Mentally she has ants in her pants; can’t be still in her mind. And I’m quite sure that’s because she’s full of anxiety about her position at Harte’s. She desperately wants to be reassured that she will one day succeed your mother.’

      Linnet nodded vigorously. ‘Absolutely. She thinks she will. She expects to, actually.’

      ‘And what do you think, mavourneen?’ Bryan probed, his dark eyes resting on her with great interest.

      ‘I don’t know what my mother plans to do. But Tessa is the eldest of Paula’s children, and I suppose she’s entitled to inherit my mother’s job when she retires.’

      Bryan shook his head vehemently. Then, taking hold of her arm, he led her towards the sofa placed nearest to the fire. ‘Let’s sit down,’ he murmured, and after settling himself in a corner against the tapestry cushions, he continued: ‘Your mother doesn’t operate that way, she’s not into those kind of rules, or the law of primogeniture as far as inheritances are concerned. I’m certain Paula will choose someone she wants to be her successor in the family business. After all, she is the largest single stockholder, not to mention CEO.’

      When Linnet made no comment, Bryan added, ‘Let’s not forget she was trained by Emma Harte for many, many years, and that was her policy. She gave the key jobs to those who deserved them and could handle them. Paula will do the same.’

      ‘I guess you’re right, Gramps, but Tessa does very well at Harte’s, you know. She’s a pretty good executive.’

      ‘Could she run the store in Knightsbridge? And the whole chain as well?’ Bryan asked, looking at her keenly.

      Linnet bit her lip and glanced away, acutely aware of her grandfather’s penetrating gaze, thinking of the discussions she’d had with Gideon about this very subject. And with her cousin India Standish, who worked at Harte’s. They believed that Tessa would never be able to cut it, but she fully acknowledged they were prejudiced, having suffered at Tessa’s hands in the past. Especially when they were children.

      Clearing her throat, Linnet said, ‘As an executive Tessa’s very good, well organized, practical, and she handles the daily problems with skill …’ Linnet’s voice suddenly trailed off as she thought of the rows her mother had with Tessa about the future and planning ahead. She stared at Bryan, then sighed. ‘Oh gosh, Gramps, Tessa’s my sister and I love her …’

      ‘There’s a big but, I suspect, when it comes to certain things to do with her work.’

      ‘I think so. She’s great on a day-to-day basis, as I said. But Tessa never considers the future or plans ahead.’

      ‘No real vision, perhaps,’ Bryan pronounced. ‘There’s got to be vision in any business, but especially in retailing, otherwise the stores will go nowhere. Except down the drain eventually. That’s always been one of your mother’s strong suits, Linnet. Paula has had tremendous vision over the years, still does, and Emma often commented on it to me. It made your great-grandmother very proud, and she felt secure about leaving Harte’s to her.’

      ‘Mummy’s a genius in so many ways. You know, she’s really been annoyed about Tessa’s attitude regarding my project. Tessa thinks my idea for a fashion retrospective is ridiculous, that it won’t succeed. But I know it will, and Mummy’s given me her blessing.’

      Bryan frowned and shook his head, his expression startled. After a moment’s thought he murmured, ‘But your fashion retrospective is a natural. It’s bound to bring in hundreds of women, and when they’re in the store they’ll spend money on the fashion floors.’

      ‘Exactly, Gramps! That’s the whole idea, but Tessa doesn’t get it.’

      Or doesn’t want to, Bryan thought, but said, ‘The main thing is that it’s going to be a big success. You mustn’t worry about what Tessa says or thinks … only your immediate boss, and that’s your mother.’

      She nodded. ‘Mummy’s thrilled I’m using such a lot of Grandy’s haute-couture clothes. Vintage clothes are very in these days, and the retrospective does cover eighty years. It’ll be fabulous and will pull in a lot of young women. India agrees.’

      ‘I do too, as I just said. And tell me, how is little India working out?’

      ‘Very well, grandfather, and she’s not so little either. She’s quite the dashing young woman.’

      ‘So I noticed on New Year’s Eve.’ He chuckled. ‘I always think of India as being little. You know, in the sense of petite, dainty, very delicate and feminine.’

      ‘That she is. But getting back to Tessa, Gideon says she doesn’t know how to handle people, that she has no empathy or compassion.’ Linnet sat back and made a small grimace. ‘Mummy’s always said it’s important to feel compassion for people if you’re an employer, and Gideon thinks Tessa lacks that quality.’

      ‘Do you?’

      When Linnet was silent, Bryan knew the answer. But she was a fine young woman and he knew how much she disliked criticizing others. Deciding not to press for an answer, he leaned back against the cushions once more, and studied her for a moment, and quite unexpectedly his throat tightened with emotion. For he saw not Linnet O’Neill, his twenty-five-year-old granddaughter but Emma Harte when she was twenty-seven and his surrogate mother. He had been born in December 1916, and his biological mother Laura O’Neill