hadn’t done anything illegal and Maisie had been worried that if it got out that she no longer trusted them to carry out her wishes to the letter, they might either sue her for defamation, or have her legally declared to be unfit to continue to conduct her own financial affairs.
After her death, when the gossip had started, Olivia had urged her parents to go public with Maisie’s reasons for changing her will, but they had felt honourbound not to say anything in case Maisie’s distrust ended up reflecting badly on her original trustees, who, after all, had done nothing wrong. It was typical of her parents to protect others at their own expense, Olivia knew.
Her parents might have forgiven Tait for his article now he had backed off, but Olivia didn’t intend to do so. He hadn’t actually taken back what he’d said or apologised, had he? And besides, there was something about Tait as a person, as a man, that made her feel on edge, and…and judged. He was so…so pleased with himself, and arrogantly and, yes, sexually male. Not like Robert, who was so very much more gentlemanly.
Robert…Olivia hugged to herself the thought of the kiss they had shared.
‘Here’s your case,’ Ella told Olivia. ‘Amber said to tell you that you’re in the lilac room.’
‘She knows that’s my favourite,’ Olivia smiled, reaching for the strap of her roller case.
Each of Denham’s many bedrooms was decorated in a different colour to coordinate with the Denby Mill silk used for its soft furnishings.
The panelling in the room Ella and Oliver were occupying was painted a soft grey blue, to contrast with the butter-yellow silk curtains, their Greek key design border a deeper richer gold. The Greek key design provided a border for the blue-grey and off-white trellis-patterned carpet, whilst the bedcover, the seats of the two bedroom chairs and the lamps on the mantelpiece were covered in the yellow silk.
Within seconds of Olivia going, the bedroom door opened again and Oliver walked in.
‘You look thoughtful,’ he commented.
‘Mmm…I think there could be something going on between Olivia and Robert.’
‘Robert? How can there be something going on between them? She hasn’t seen him since last Christmas, has she?’
‘No, but when they came in together tonight, there was definitely something there, and she did have that crush on him at one stage.’
‘Robert,’ Oliver repeated in the tone of voice a man uses when he suddenly realises that his little girl has transferred her affections to another male.
‘She hasn’t said anything to me,’ Ella admitted. ‘In fact, if anything she was rather evasive when I brought up the subject, so I could be wrong, but somehow I don’t think so.’
In their room – the room that had been hers when she had been growing up, but which her mother had had redecorated five years ago, along with the rest of the house – Emerald dropped into one of the pretty Louis Quatorze-style chairs, the elegant arch of her feet in the high heels she insisted on wearing no matter what the fashion, revealed as she crossed her legs.
‘Why must our children be so exhausting, Drogo?’ she demanded.
‘Probably because they’re your children,’ Drogo answered with a smile.
‘I would never have tried to do anything as pointlessly silly as Katie,’ Emerald claimed, quickly changing the subject to continue, ‘Poor Janey, she’s beginning to look quite old. She really should take a bit more care of herself
‘I doubt she has the time – or the money,’ Drogo said mildly.
‘They’d be a lot better off if they let Fitton and moved in here with Mummy and Jay. After all, John could run both estates just as easily from here as he can from Fitton. Denham’s a far more comfortable house, and Janey would be on hand to help Mummy and Jay when they need it.’
‘Fitton means far too much to John for him to ever want to do that, and even if it didn’t, John would still have the problem of Cassandra living in the Dower House.’
Emerald gave a small exasperated sigh.
‘I do hope that Rose isn’t going to get too involved with Nick and those children of his now that he and Sarah are separating. Not now, when we’re hoping to expand into the commercial market. If we do get contracts to provide the soft furnishings and the interior designs for hotel bedrooms, then we’re going to need Rose. She fusses far too much over Nick – I’ve always said so. He isn’t even her child, and there’s no real proof that Josh fathered him.’
‘Apart from the fact that Nick looks exactly like Josh, you mean,’ Drogo pointed out. He was used to his wife criticising her relatives, and he knew that in reality Emerald’s critical manner was just a cover for the concern that her nature would not allow her to express openly.
‘It’s all very well us coming here to Denham, Drogo, but the family would be every bit as comfortable at Osterby as they are here. More so, in fact, since Osterby is properly staffed.’
Since Osterby, the Lenchester family seat, was of a similar size to Blenheim, whereas Denham was of far more modest proportions, at Emerald’s comment Drogo gave her a wry look.
‘Osterby might have the grandeur and stature of a would-be palace, but Denham is a proper home.’
‘It isn’t as though Mummy and Jay couldn’t afford to employ more staff. Mummy inherited all Greatgrandmother’s money, after all, and that was millions. Heavens, when Mummy grew up here, there were dozens of servants. Now, apart from the Leggits and the estate workers, there’s no one. Janey’s actually cooked virtually all the food for Christmas herself. I really do think we’re going to have to say something to Mummy. I mean, Janey was actually talking about drawing up a rota for kitchen duties!’ Emerald wrinkled her nose, making Drogo laugh. ‘It’s all right for you,’ she objected. ‘My manicure will never last until we get back to London.’
‘You do realise that you are the world’s worst snob, don’t you?’ Drogo teased her. ‘And that we’re going to be in the Australian outback for nearly three weeks when we leave here?’
‘You might be in the Australian outback, counting your sheep or whatever it is people do on sheep stations; I shall be staying in a decent hotel in Sydney or the Whitsunday Islands.’ A sudden smile illuminated her face, the other side of her nature breaking through like a patch of brilliantly blue in an otherwise grey sky.
‘I am so lucky to have married you, Drogo.’ She reached up to cup his face, leaning forward to kiss him, and then stopped to add in her normal manner, ‘but not, of course, as lucky as you were to marry me.’
‘Happy?’
Olivia nodded, turning her face towards Robert, the wind tangling the normal sleekness of her hair, her hand held warmly within Robert’s clasp as they walked together through Denham’s frost-rimed formal gardens, their Wellington boot-clad feet crunching on the gravel pathways. They startled a couple of male pheasants that had been foraging for food and that now walked slowly
