amidst the peaceful meadows punctuated by drystone walls, was Pennistone Royal, that ancient and stately house acquired by Emma Harte in 1932, almost seventy years ago.
In the years she had lived there, Emma had turned it into the most magical of places. The grounds were extensive and picturesque. Lawns rolled down to the river, and in the spring and summer months the masses of flower beds and flowering shrubs were ablaze with riotous colour.
But there were no roses anywhere in those lovely rambling gardens. It was a family legend that Emma Harte had detested roses, because she had been spurned by Edwin Fairley in the rose garden at Fairley Hall. On that day so long ago, when she was just a young girl, she had told Edwin she was carrying his child. In his panic, and fearing his powerful father, Adam Fairley, he had repudiated her, made it clear she was on her own in her terrible predicament. He had offered her a few shillings; she had asked to borrow a suitcase.
Emma had run away. From her family and Fairley village nestling in the shadow of the Pennine chain of hills. Courageously, Emma had travelled to Leeds to find her dear friend Blackie O’Neill, whom she knew would help her.
And of course he had. He had taken her to live with his friend Laura Spencer, later his wife, who had looked after her until Edwina was born. It was then that Emma Harte had made a vow: she would become a rich and powerful woman to protect herself and her child. She had worked like a drudge to accomplish this, and as it happened everything she touched had turned to gold.
Linnet’s grandfather, Bryan O’Neill, had told her that her great-grandmother had never once looked back. As a young woman she had surged ahead, gone from success to success, reaching even higher, always attaining the impossible, finally becoming a true woman of substance.
According to her grandfather, Emma had apparently never forgotten that horrible day in the rose garden at Fairley Hall. Her senses had been swimming, and feeling nauseous she had vomited violently when she was alone. Emma had blamed her attack of nausea on the roses, and thereafter, for the rest of her life, she had felt overcome whenever she smelled them. The flower held such terrible memories for her she could not abide it.
Out of deference to her beloved Grandy, Paula had never permitted roses to be grown at Pennistone Royal, nor were they ever used in floral arrangements in the house. Emma’s ruling still held: roses were forbidden in her homes.
Linnet had been born in her great-grandmother’s house twenty-five years ago, in the middle of May. Her grandmother, Daisy, Emma’s favourite daughter fathered by Paul McGill, had inherited Pennistone Royal from Emma. But she had immediately gifted it to her daughter, Paula, because she preferred to live in London, and also to save death duties later. Paula had lived there since Emma’s death. The house meant more to Linnet than any other place on earth; even though she worked in London during the week, she came up to Yorkshire every weekend.
This past November Paula had taken Linnet into her confidence about a matter close to Paula’s heart. ‘Grandy made a rule years ago,’ she explained. ‘And it was this … Pennistone Royal must go to the one who loves it the most, as long as that person has the intelligence and the knowledge to look after the estate properly. I know that Tessa, as the eldest, believes I’m going to leave it to her, but I just can’t, Linnet. She doesn’t even like the house and grounds; they’re meaningless to her. She’s only concerned with what they represent in terms of power and prestige in the family. That’s certainly not what Grandy wanted or intended.’ Paula had shaken her head and gone on: ‘Lorne has no interest in the house, and Emsie cares only about her stables.’
A loving smile had crossed her mother’s face as she had continued. ‘I doubt she’ll ever change, bless her heart. And as for Desmond, he’ll have his grandfather’s house in Harrogate one day, when Grandfather Bryan is gone.
At this juncture in the conversation, her mother had reached out and taken her hand, saying, ‘And so I am planning to leave Pennistone Royal to you, Linnet, because I know how much it means to you, how much you really care. But not a word to anyone about this. Understand, darling?’
Linnet had nodded and thanked her mother profusely, and promised not to betray her confidence. She fully understood all of the ramifications involved. But Paula’s words had startled her; it was the last thing she had ever expected. Deep down she was thrilled; on the other hand, she did not like to dwell on anything she might one day inherit, especially if it involved her mother and father. She was very close to them and wanted them to have long lives.
Leaning back against the limestone slab in the niche, Linnet sighed, still dwelling on Paula’s words, the decision she had made. There would be trouble with Tessa if she ever found out about their mother’s intentions.
It was true that Tessa did not have any genuine feelings for the house and the estate, but she did covet them, excessive greed being one of her least attractive traits. And her mother was correct, Lorne wouldn’t care at all. London was his bailiwick, and he rarely if ever came north any more, except for special family occasions and holidays. He was very much caught up in his own world, the world of the West End theatre, where he was a successful and very popular young actor. He was truly dedicated to his theatrical career and, unlike his twin, Lorne was not avaricious or combative. He had a loving, gentle heart and had often been her fierce and loyal champion against Tessa in the past. This did not mean he did not love his sister, because he really did. Like most twins he and Tessa were very close, and saw a lot of each other. Very simply, Lorne was not particularly interested in his mother’s business, nor did he have any desire to inherit any part of it. Tessa was welcome to it.
As for the two youngest of the O’Neill brood, they didn’t figure in the scheme of things, as far as Tessa was concerned. Emsie was a dreamy-eyed girl, rather fey and whimsical with an artistic nature. Linnet thought of her as another true Celt, like their father Shane. Possessions were of no consequence to her; she loved her horses and her dogs more than new dresses and pretty things.
‘Nonsenses,’ she called the latter, rather disdainfully, preferring to muck out the stables in a pair of jeans and an old sweater, rather than dress up to go to parties.
Linnet smiled inwardly, reflecting on her sister, of whom she was extremely protective and whom she loved dearly. Emsie, at seventeen, was a vulnerable, sensitive girl, but also riotously funny when she wanted to amuse the family. Named for Emma Harte, she had become Emsie a few days after her birth, her parents suddenly realizing that there was no room for another Emma in the family. The Emma who was dead still dominated them all from the grave.
The last-born child of the O’Neills was the son her father had yearned for, especially after Patrick’s death. Desmond, who was now fifteen, was the spitting image of Shane: six feet tall, dark haired and ruggedly handsome, he was looking very grown-up already.
Linnet had always thought Desmond was the most gorgeous child, and he was turning into a stunning young man. There was no doubt in her mind that women were going to fall at his feet like ninepins, as they apparently had at her father’s, before he was married to their mother. Desmond was the apple of Shane’s eye, and of his grandfather’s, the much-desired heir to the O’Neill hotel empire founded by Blackie, and built up into a worldwide company by Bryan and his son Shane, who ran it today.
Funnily enough, Tessa had always been rather taken with Desmond, favouring her youngest half-brother more than her other O’Neill siblings. ‘Mostly, that’s because he doesn’t represent a threat to her,’ Linnet had said to Gideon recently, and her cousin had nodded, agreeing with her. ‘But he is irresistible,’ Gideon had thought to add.
For a few seconds Linnet focused on her older sibling, and her face changed slightly, took on a grim aspect. Tessa, her half-sister, had been born to her mother and Jim Fairley, Paula’s first husband.
