Emma’s Secret. Barbara Taylor Bradford
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Even Emsie had made a big effort tonight, Paula realized, as her eyes lingered on her seventeen-year-old daughter. Emsie … another original, Paula thought, smiling inwardly. Usually she looked dishevelled and grungy in unattractive clothes that Paula wanted to rip off and burn. In fact, the only time she looked halfway decent was when she wore her riding clothes. But tonight there had been a sudden reversal, and Emsie was attractively decked out in scarlet wool trousers and a matching turtleneck sweater, which Paula recognized. Didn’t they belong to Linnet? Well, she’d obviously borrowed them. Red was a marvellous colour for Emsie with her black hair and black eyes.
No mistaking who she is, Paula thought, scrutinizing her intently. She was Black Irish, a true Celt, the epitome of an O’Neill. Her eyes swept over the three men in her life: Shane, Desmond and Grandfather Bryan. They were standing together talking near the big armoire, obviously engrossed in some topic, horses and racing, no doubt. Tall, long-legged, broad shouldered all three of them, descended from Shane Patrick Desmond O’Neill, known to the world as Blackie. They had inherited their looks and their colouring from him. Bryan’s hair was pure white now and Shane’s tinged with silver at the sides, but Desmond, at fifteen, had hair as black as coal. Her three devoted men, how she loved them. Like Emsie, the youngest of the clan, they were unmistakably O’Neills right down to their boots.
And there was her other child, Linnet. She was a true Harte, no two ways about that, with red hair shot through with gold and green eyes. She had chosen to wear black trousers and a black sweater with a scooped-out neck, and she looked taller than ever and very slender, her hair a fiery halo around her pale face. Tonight she appeared quiet and reflective, unsmiling. Paula was certain it was because of Julian’s presence.
Shifting slightly in the chair, Paula’s eyes scanned the Stone Hall, and finally she spotted her great ally, Gideon. He was standing at the far end, engrossed in conversation with India, his first cousin and close friend. Like Linnet, Gideon was pure Harte, with dark russet hair and light green eyes, very white teeth in his lean, tanned face. He loved sports and had recently been to Switzerland for five days’ skiing, where he had caught the sun. He was good looking, like his father Winston, and just as stable; devoted to the family in the same way Winston had always been.
Her eyes settled on her cousin Anthony’s daughter, India. Lady India Standish. She had an honorary title as the daughter of an earl. Another blonde in the family, a dainty, fragile-looking girl, with delicate bones and soulful eyes. Soft, gentle; but Paula knew that India had a great deal of strength, and was a true and loyal friend to Linnet. She carried the Fairley blood through her grandmother Edwina, and there were those who said she had a strong look of her when she had been young. Paula felt protective of India, although Shane laughed at her when she said this, reminding her that India had the courage of a lion and could easily stare down an army without flinching. She was the family’s favourite because of her loving kindness, her tenderness and compassion for others. Paula knew that she was also very brave.
Paula spotted another family favourite, and her great friend and colleague, Winston. Her cousin, Emily’s husband. He was travelling across the Stone Hall in long strides, intent on joining his best friend Shane. Winston’s red-gold hair had faded and was touched with grey, but just as the O’Neills were stamped with a particular look, so were the Hartes, passed down from Emma and her brother Winston. This Winston, the one walking across the stone floor tonight, had been very special to Emma, a great favourite, perhaps because he had looked so much like her. ‘The salt of the earth,’ she had called him, and it was true. He was very charming, dashing. Emily had been smitten with him when she was sixteen, and no wonder. These days he was a commanding figure, her staunchest supporter in all things, whether business or family matters. She loved Winston like a brother.
As she sat back in her chair, sipping her champagne, Paula let her gaze finally rest on the son of one of her dearest friends, Julian. He had, in the last few minutes, edged closer to Linnet, and now they were speaking to each other quietly, standing a little apart from the others. How she wished she could hear what they were saying. Oh to be a fly on the wall, Paula thought, and hoped they were ending their silly separation, which had been Linnet’s idea. And not a very good one at that. Julian was already a member of the family by the very nature of his birth, and a full-blown member of the third clan; everyone liked and admired him.
He was a truly nice young man – perhaps too nice in some ways – and he had many excellent qualities. He adored Linnet and always had, and because of this he was a little too submissive to her will, Paula thought. He’s so right for her, though, and he understands that she will have so much responsibility one day. Just as he will. And they have a shared history, the past, and their childhood that binds them together irrevocably. He is admirable, thoughtful, kind, intelligent, even a bit of an intellectual, and fun loving. The latter is so important for Linnet, who tends to be a workaholic.
Suddenly, there he was, moving in her direction, coming across the floor in rapid strides, looking hell-bent and determined about … something. And something important at that, she decided, if the look on his face was anything to go by.
Then he was hovering over her, tall, dark-haired, just like his father Michael, his eyes clear, bright blue and unblinking. Filled with the honesty and sincerity she had first seen there when he was only a child.
Julian was a pleasant-looking young man, lean and slender … perhaps a little too thin right now, Paula thought. He was, as usual, well dressed in a dark blazer worn with dark grey trousers and a black turtleneck sweater.
‘I need to talk to you for a moment,’ Julian said, smiling down at her. ‘In private,’ he added softly.
Paula nodded, stood up instantly, her hopes soaring unexpectedly. Perhaps he was going to speak to her and Shane about Linnet, about becoming engaged, and was testing the waters with her first before jumping in the deep end with Shane. But surely he knew they were all for this match …
He interrupted her thoughts as he placed his hand under her elbow and led her across the Stone Hall to a quiet corner away from the fireplace, where everyone was gathered, talking amongst themselves as they sipped their drinks.
‘Let’s sit here for a moment.’ He indicated two straight-backed chairs, covered in tapestry, placed near a circular table.
Once they were settled, she stared at him expectantly.
Always straightforward and direct, Julian got right to the point. ‘My grandfather wondered if you could pop over to see him tomorrow? If you’re not too busy.’
‘Why, of course I’m not. But is something the matter? I know he’s not been feeling well.’ Her face clouded over with concern.
‘Oh he’s all right, suffering from a bit of rheumatism, and he’s had a bad cold. But Grandfather’s a tough old bird, don’t you know, and as sharp as he ever was. He actually wants to talk to you about …’ Julian broke off, leaned closer, lowered his voice and murmured sotto voce, ‘Jonathan Ainsley.’
Paula stared at him disbelievingly, her body instantly stiffening. ‘Jonathan,’ she repeated. ‘What on earth could Uncle Ronnie have to say about him?’
‘Apparently your cousin has returned to England. Permanently. Grandfather heard through his bankers in the City that Jonathan plans to open a business in London.’
For a moment she could not respond. She felt