Master of His Fate. Barbara Taylor Bradford

thank him for his cheque.

      It was money that Claudia was now speaking about, and this did not surprise Alexis. She knew very well who Claudia was – the daughter of Sebastian Trevalian, head of an ancient bank dating back a century at least. It was as famous as the renowned, longstanding Coutts.

      It struck Alexis that her understanding of money was no doubt in her blood. ‘The amount donated is an extraordinary beginning,’ Claudia went on. ‘A veritable fortune, in fact. But I believe we should think further ahead and continue to raise money. Now. For the future. We mustn’t rest on our laurels.’

      ‘I agree with you. Money so easily slips away. Very fast.’

      ‘I will ask my father for a donation, and I’m sure he will supply a cheque immediately. I will also attempt to find other sources. We ought to build up a large amount of cash. In reserve, so that we are never caught short. Don’t you agree, Alexis?’

      ‘I do, and I feel very strongly that we should not waste the cash by buying items we can source elsewhere. Rather, it should be kept for medicines and good, nutritious food. In the six months it took to renovate the house, Delia and I managed to cadge enough furniture, crockery, and kitchen utensils to make the house functional and relatively comfortable to live in. And, in fact, every single thing was donated by our families and friends. Or bought for us by them.’

      Claudia chuckled. ‘I shall have to learn to cadge, and I think I might be rather good at it. I’ll start with my sisters and cousins.’

      ‘That’s usually a good idea. I think you’ll find that those you ask will be glad, even relieved, to have somewhere to send items they no longer use, but don’t want to hoard away in cupboards.’

      Claudia said, ‘One thing I forgot to ask you earlier: how many women will the house accommodate at one time?’

      ‘Twelve comfortably,’ Alexis replied. ‘We have six bedrooms. Delia and I placed two single beds in each room. But at a pinch those rooms could take a third bed, if necessary. There is also a large upstairs parlour that would quite easily convert to become a small dormitory. That would hold about four women and several children. You see, some women may well bring a child with them, or more, afraid to leave them behind. Our aim is to have twenty beds eventually. To give them shelter and safety, and that includes a few children. But we can’t become an orphanage. No one can live there for long: there are too many others waiting for a place.’

      Claudia stared at her, a look of shock registering in her eyes. ‘Is it that bad? Is there such a lot of physical abuse among poor women?’

      ‘Oh yes. And even among the rich, if the truth be known,’ Alexis responded. ‘But wealthier women generally have families to run to, or loyal friends who will help them escape their husbands and their situation.’ Alexis shook her head, and added quietly, ‘Class doesn’t define abusive men, Claudia. I am afraid they are everywhere in society. In all classes and creeds.’

      Sitting back in the chair, Claudia snapped her eyes shut, not saying a word.

      Watching her closely, Alexis saw that her face had turned pale, and she seemed upset. After a moment, Alexis asked in concern, ‘Are you all right? Can I help you?’

      Opening her eyes, sitting up straighter, Claudia said, ‘I’m fine. I was just remembering something …’ A great sigh escaped her. ‘I had a friend who once confided in me, told me her husband abused her, and very brutally. At times she had to remain at their country house until her bruises faded and she had recovered her equilibrium.’ There was a pause. Unexpectedly, Claudia’s eyes filled with tears.

      Reaching out, Alexis touched her arm. ‘You are upset. What can I do to help you?’

      Blinking back the tears, Claudia endeavoured to recover, to collect herself. Her voice was sad when she said, ‘I was remembering something, suddenly understanding how wrong I once was. About a friend. You see, I didn’t believe her. He was such a good-looking man, full of charm and grace, a true gentleman, an aristocrat of impeccable lineage. It just didn’t seem possible …’ Her voice trailed away and she shook her head.

      ‘Just because a man is a born gentleman doesn’t mean he isn’t also a cad. And a dangerous cad at that! I can think of a number of worse words to use to describe those bad men.’ Alexis’s voice had raised an octave in anger.

      Claudia took out a handkerchief and patted her face. ‘I wish I had believed her. She was reaching out to me. She wanted my help. And I abandoned her. How awful of me. But I never saw any physical damage.’

      ‘Because she had waited until her wounds had healed.’ Alexis leaned forward, and asked, ‘I hope nothing terrible happened to her. I hope she didn’t die.’

      There was a moment of silence before Claudia whispered, ‘She did. But not by his hand … She took her own life.’

      ‘Then she did die by his hand! He drove her to it.’ Looking at Claudia intently, Alexis saw she was still upset. Her eyes were moist again. She said, ‘You mustn’t blame yourself, or feel guilty. We are all in charge of our own lives, Claudia. Character is destiny … it is who we are inside ourselves that leads us to live the lives we do. Our character makes us who we are.’

      A look of comprehension crossed Claudia’s face. ‘I see what you mean. Nonetheless, I should have helped her get away from him.’

      ‘She should have left him, sought help from someone else. Or did he keep her cloistered away?’

      ‘I don’t know. She stayed in the country when he’d hurt her badly. She told me she couldn’t show herself in that condition in London society.’

      For a moment Alexis was silent, realizing how violent the man must have been. She couldn’t help wondering who he was.

      Claudia levelled her gaze at Alexis. ‘Why on earth does a woman stay with a brutal man?’ She sounded genuinely puzzled, frowning.

      ‘I don’t know.’ A thoughtful look crossed Alexis’s face. ‘What I do know is that a woman living in poverty is extremely vulnerable. She has nowhere to go, probably not one single person to help her. And if she has children, it becomes more difficult, complex.’

      Claudia simply nodded.

      Alexis shrugged her shoulders, lifted her hands helplessly. ‘As for women of our class, despite the scandal of leaving, why they stay I’ll never understand. Could it be that they still love the man, despite his wickedness? It’s a mystery to me.’

      ‘And to me, Alexis. I have learned a lesson this afternoon. I shall never disbelieve a friend again, if she comes to me with a similar story. I shall pay attention and I will do something.’

      ‘I feel the same way.’

      ‘I know you’re not married,’ Claudia stated, half smiling at Alexis. ‘Neither am I. That is because I haven’t met the right man. But I hope I will do so one day. I would like to have a husband and a family. I love children.’

      ‘Yes, I’m not married,’ Alexis said, relieved that Claudia had recovered from her sadness about her friend. ‘And, frankly, I don’t expect I ever will be. My business career is more important to me than anything else …’

      Alexis stopped short, suddenly wondering why she was confiding in Claudia, whom she did not really know. Then she realized that she had felt drawn to her the moment they had met.

      ‘Your reputation as a brilliant businesswoman precedes you, Alexis. You inspire other women who would also enjoy being in business, but are not allowed to work.’

      ‘What about you? Would you like to be a banker, following in your father’s footsteps?’

      ‘No, I wouldn’t. But I would like something to do, which is one of the reasons I want to be involved with your charity. By the way, does the safe house have a name yet?’

      ‘It does. Delia and I decided to call it Haven House, because that says exactly what it is – a haven for women who need to