defensive and hostile.’
Strong as these words were, Emma’s tone had been mild, and her face was devoid of emotion as she pushed herself up and out of the chair. She went to the William and Mary chest in the corner, poured herself a small glass of sherry, then resumed her position in front of the fire. She sat holding her drink, a reflective light in her eyes. After a long moment, she said, ‘I am an old woman. A very old woman really. Although I realize there will never be total peace in this family of mine, I would like a bit of tranquillity for the rest of my life, if that’s possible. And so I’m prepared to forget a lot of the things you’ve said and done, Edwina, because I’ve come to the conclusion it’s about time you and I buried the hatchet. I think we should try to be friends.’
Edwina gaped at her in astonishment, wondering if she was dreaming. She had hardly expected to hear these words from her mother. She finally managed, ‘Why me? Why not any of the others? Or are you planning to give the same little speech to them this weekend?’
‘I don’t believe they’ve been invited. And if they had, I would hope they’d have enough sense not to come. I don’t have much time for any of them.’
‘And you do for me?’ Edwina asked incredulously, mentally thrown off balance by her mother’s conciliatory gesture.
‘Let’s put it this way, I think you were the least guilty in that ridiculous plot against me last year. I know now that you were coerced to a certain extent. You never were very devious, avaricious or venal, Edwina. Also, I do regret our estrangement over the years. We should have made up long ago, I see that now.’ Emma genuinely meant this, but she was also motivated by another reason. Anthony. Emma was convinced that only by winning Edwina over to her side could she hope to influence her, get her to adopt a more reasonable attitude towards her son. So she said again, ‘I do think we should give it a try. What do we have to lose? And if we can’t be real friends, perhaps we can have an amicable relationship at the very least.’
‘I don’t think so, Mother.’
Emma exhaled wearily. ‘I am saddened for you, Edwina, I really am. You threw away one of the most important things in your life, but – ’
‘What was that?’
‘My love for you.’
‘Oh come off it, Mother,’ Edwina said with a sneer, looking down her nose at Emma. ‘You never loved me.’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘I don’t believe this conversation!’ Edwina exclaimed, shifting in her chair. She took a gulp of her scotch, then brought the glass down on the Georgian side table with a bang. ‘You’re incredible, Mother. You sit there making these extraordinary statements and expecting me to swallow them whole. That’s the joke of the century. I might be stupid, but I’m not that stupid.’ She leaned forward, staring hard at Emma, her eyes like chips of grey ice. ‘What about you? My God, it was you who threw me away when I was a baby.’
Emma brought herself up in the chair with enormous dignity and her face was formidable, her eyes steely as she said, ‘I did not. And don’t you ever dare say that to me again. Ever, do you hear? You know that I put you in your Aunt Freda’s care because I had to work like a drudge to support you. But we’ve gone through this enough times in the past, and you’ll think what you want, I suppose. In the meantime, I have no intention of being side tracked from what I have to say to you, just because you have the need to dredge up all your old grudges against me.’
Edwina opened her mouth, but Emma shook her head. ‘No, let me finish,’ she insisted, her green eyes holding Edwina’s sharply. ‘I don’t want you to make the same mistake twice in your life. I don’t want you to throw Anthony’s love away, as you did mine. And you’re in grave danger of doing so.’ She sat back, hoping her words would sink in, would have some effect.
‘I have never heard anything quite so ridiculous,’ Edwina snorted, assuming a haughty expression.
‘It’s the truth, nevertheless.’
‘What do you know about my relationship with my son!’
‘A great deal. But despite his love for you, which is considerable, you are hell bent on driving a wedge between the two of you. Why, only last night, he told me how concerned he is about your relationship, and he looked pretty damn worried to me.’
Edwina lifted her head swiftly. ‘So he is here. When I phoned him at his London club last night they said he’d already left. I couldn’t imagine where he was. I had no idea he was coming to the christening. Is he here?’
This was asked with anxiousness, and Emma saw the eager light flickering in her daughter’s eyes. She said, ‘No, he’s not.’
‘Where is he staying?’
Emma chose to ignore this question for the moment. She said, ‘Anthony can’t understand why you’re so opposed to his divorce. It seems you’re making his life miserable, badgering him night and day to reconcile with Min. He is baffled and distressed, Edwina.’
‘So is poor Min! She’s heartbroken, and she can’t comprehend him, or his behaviour. Neither can I. He’s upsetting our lives in the most disturbing way, creating havoc. I’m almost as distraught as she is.’
‘Well, that’s understandable. No one likes divorce, nor the pain it involves. However, you must think of Anthony before anyone else. From what he tells me, he’s been very unhappy for – ’
‘Not that unhappy, Mother,’ Edwina interrupted, her voice snippy and high-pitched with tension. ‘He and Min do have a lot in common, whatever he might have told you. Naturally, he’s disappointed she hasn’t had a child. On the other hand, they’ve only been married six years. She could still get pregnant. Min is perfect for him. And don’t look at me like that, Mother, so very superior and knowing. It just so happens that I know my son better than you do. Anthony might have strength of character, as you’re so fond of pointing out to me whenever you get the opportunity. Nonetheless, he does have certain weaknesses.’
Edwina stopped, uncertain about continuing, then decided her mother might as well know the truth. ‘Sex, for one thing,’ she announced flatly, staring Emma down with a show of defiance. ‘He’ll go for a pretty face every time. He got himself into the most awful scrapes with women before he married Min.’ Edwina shook her head, and bit her lip, muttering in a low voice, ‘I don’t know how much Min actually knows, but I’m aware that in the last couple of years Anthony has had several affairs, and as usual with the wrong sort of women.’
Emma was not unduly surprised by this bit of information, nor was she particularly interested, and she did not rise to the bait. Instead she gave Edwina a curious look, asked, ‘What exactly do you mean by the wrong sort of women?’
‘You know very well what I mean, Mother. Unsuitable females with no background or breeding. A man in Anthony’s position, a peer of the realm with enormous responsibilities, should have a wife who comes from the aristocracy, his own class, who understands his way of life.’
Stifling her amusement at Edwina’s hidebound snobbery, Emma said, ‘Oh for God’s sake, stop talking like a Victorian dowager. We’re living in the twenty-first century – well almost. Your views are outdated, my dear.’
‘I might have known you’d say something like that,’ Edwina
