Dad?’
David followed her gaze, directed at the photograph of his sister, taken when she had been presented at court. He nodded. ‘Yes, I am. As you know, your grandfather objected to Kurt von Wittingen most strongly, even though he was a prince and wealthy, because he was a German. Yet Arabella married him anyway. Father lived to regret his decision, even though he never came out and actually said so. I believe it broke his heart, never seeing her again.’ Yes, it truly did, he added to himself. If only the old man had been less obdurate, more reasonable, I know she would not have acted so rashly. That’s a family trait, rashness in the face of opposition, he thought. And Kim’s inherited Arabella’s impetuousness. ‘I’m sorry, Frankie, I missed what you just said. Wool gathering, I’m afraid,’ he apologized.
‘I said it was a very tragic story … Arabella’s and Kurt’s. But still, because of them we do have Diana and Christian, don’t we?’
‘We certainly do, my darling. And that reminds me, I had a letter from Diana just last week. From Königssee. Christian and she want to come over and spend a few weeks with us this summer. I hope you’ll make it a point to be at Langley when they’re there.’
‘Gosh, Daddy, you know I wouldn’t miss their visit for anything,’ she cried. Francesca had always been especially close to her German cousins, who made frequent trips to England and spent many holidays at Langley. She squeezed her father’s arm affectionately. ‘It will be lovely to see them.’ Her face became intent. ‘I know I haven’t really been very helpful about Katharine. But I’m absolutely certain everything’s going to be fine. I know it is.’
‘I hope so, my dear.’
Francesca looked at her watch. ‘Oh, it’s getting late. I must get to the Museum. You don’t mind if I scoot off, do you?’
‘No, my dear, you run along. Incidentally, any instructions for Mrs Moggs?’
Francesca laughed at his pained expression. ‘No, I left a note for her in the kitchen. I’m sorry you have to cope with her this morning. She’s a holy terror, but she does mean well. If I were you, I’d do a disappearing act as soon as you can, then she won’t be able to boss you around.’ Francesca leaned forward and kissed him. ‘Have a nice day, and I’ll see you tonight for dinner.’
‘I’m looking forward to it, darling.’
After Francesca had left for the British Museum, David sat debating with himself about the best course of action to take. Being a man of integrity and decency, he was reluctant to make pointed inquiries about Katharine Tempest. It was abhorrent to him. It smacked of prying, the worst type of spying and infringement of personal privacy. It also snowed lack of trust in Kim’s judgment, and anyway, he would much prefer to hear the facts about Katharine from his son, and not indirectly. And yet … David shook his head in aggravation. It was precisely Kim’s behaviour which was causing him to view the situation with a degree of alarm. Until his talk with Francesca, he had believed Kim’s vagueness to be evasiveness, a defence mechanism induced by the resentment he felt because he thought he was being treated like a child. Sadly, David now acknowledged, Kim had been vague because he knew next to nothing about the girl with whom he was so infatuated. It was most apparent to David that Kim had no information because the girl herself had not been forthcoming.
People in love invariably confided in each other, and talked about their past, didn’t they? Unless … Unless they had something to hide. Did Katharine have something to hide? He told himself this was a stupid, even insane, idea, and hardly worthy of protracted consideration. After all, he had been impressed with Katharine. He understood the reasons for his son’s enthralment, and so he had not given much thought to her background until last night, after his frustrating talk with Kim. The boy had been unable to answer the simplest and most innocent of questions, to David’s utter amazement. Since then he had been looking for flaws in her. The trouble was he had found none. Katharine Tempest seemed to be perfect in every way.
Unexpectedly, as he was pondering her attributes, a thought hit him. That was it. She was far too perfect. Obviously the girl could not help her staggering beauty, that was nature’s doing, and her undeniable talent for acting was another of God’s generous gifts. But what about her personality, her immense charm and her exquisite manners? Had they perhaps been consciously distilled over the years? he wondered. Another disturbing thought crept into his mind: Katharine was uncommonly smooth for her age. She had none of the rough edges of youth. His own children had pleasant personalities, self-confidence and lovely manners, but occasionally they displayed a naïveté, and yes, even a certain gaucheness at times, traits quite natural in view of their youth. She is awfully smooth, he decided, and also a shade too mysterious.
Damnation! he cursed inwardly. I wish there was someone I could talk to about this, someone a little more mature than my darling Frankie, who’s obviously prejudiced about Katharine anyhow. Doris. Of course, Doris. There was no one better equipped to listen than she, and she was sincere and wise and down-to-earth, amongst other things. David picked up the telephone. He dialled the operator, gave her the number of the Hôtel de Paris in Monte Carlo, and waited.
‘Madame Asteman, s’il vous plaît,’ he said, when the hotel finally answered.
A moment later Doris’s sleepy voice was murmuring hello.
‘Good morning, Doris. It’s David. I hope I didn’t awaken you, my dear.’
‘Yes, you did,’ she laughed. ‘But that’s all right. I can’t think of a nicer way to be awakened. How are you, darling?’
‘I’m fine. I had your letter this morning, and I’m delighted about the house.’
‘Oh David, the Villa Zamir is perfectly divine! You’re going to love it, and so are Francesca and Kim.’
‘I’m sure we will.’ He smiled to himself. Doris might be a millionairess, but she was the least jaded person he knew. Her enthusiasm and gaiety and zest for life invariably lifted his spirits. ‘I can’t wait to see it. In the meantime, I also called to ask you something, so I’ll get straight to the point. Have you heard of a family in Chicago called Tempest?’
‘No, no, I don’t think I have,’ Doris said hesitantly. After a brief pause, whilst she obviously pondered on it, she said more positively, ‘I’m sure I haven’t. I would have remembered the name. It’s quite unusual. Anyway, why do you want to know, darling?’
‘Apparently Kim has been seeing a girl for a number of months. She’s from Chicago and her name is Tempest.’ He then proceeded to tell her about his concern, and the reasons for it.
Doris listened carefully. When he had finished, she asked, ‘Do you really believe Kim wants to marry her, David?’ her tone alert.
‘Yes, I do. And since he’s almost twenty-two he doesn’t need my permission. Whilst I don’t want to play the heavy Victorian father, I don’t want him to make a mistake either. A mistake he’ll regret.’ He sighed heavily. ‘Maybe I’m wrong, but I find it damned peculiar he knows so little about the girl and – ‘
‘So do I,’ Doris broke in. ‘You knew my entire life story within a week of meeting me.’
‘Yes, and you knew mine,’ he answered, gratified that she confirmed his own opinion.
‘Listen, I have an idea. Why don’t you talk to the girl herself?’ Doris suggested. ‘Ask her to fill you in about her background.’
David drew in his breath
