A Vengeful Reunion. Catherine George
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Leonie shook her head in response to Jess’s look of wild enquiry. ‘He means Fenny.’
Jonah gave them a mocking bow, got in his car and backed along the terrace, pausing to allow another vehicle to turn off to the stable block before he drove out of sight down the winding drive.
‘I’ve obviously missed a bit somewhere,’ said Jess, looking stunned as they went up to the house. ‘Since when were you and Jonah Savage on speaking terms again?’
‘We’re not,’ said Leonie tersely, and explained the encounter on the train. ‘Did you know he’s been coming to Friars Wood lately?’
‘No, I didn’t. I haven’t been home for a while.’ Jess grinned sheepishly. ‘Busy social life.’
‘You don’t say!’ said Leonie dryly. ‘Come on, get the hugs and kisses over, then Mother requires help. Afterwards we’ll grab Kate and put in an appearance at the Stables as official welcome party.’
Before they went inside Jess gave her sister a searching look. ‘Do you mind, Leo? That Jonah’s coming tonight?’
‘Not in the least.’
‘Liar!’
Leonie grinned. ‘All right, I do mind. But no one will know, I promise. Especially Jonah Savage.’
CHAPTER TWO
FRIARS WOOD had been built a century earlier on the site of a mediaeval chantry chapel where masses had once been sung for the souls of the departed. Of no particular architectural category, it was a house of great charm, with groups of chimneys with barley-sugar twists, and a great many small-paned windows. At the front a verandah formed a balcony for the upper floor, with a wrought-iron pillar giving support to the ancient wistaria which wreathed verandah and balcony in clusters of purple blossom twice a year.
When Tom and Frances Dysart had taken over Friars Wood, after they’d married, Tom’s parents had moved into the converted stable block, which they’d shared with his young sister Rachel. It was an arrangement which had worked well as the head count of young Dysarts mounted in the main house. Years later, when both senior Dysarts had died within a short time of each other, and Rachel had long been established in a career and home of her own in London, the Stables had been used as a guest house for visitors, until Adam’s eighteenth birthday, when it had been handed over to him for his own personal retreat.
In the still cold of this particular night the Stables were a very animated place, blazing with light in every room and with Adam’s guests crammed into every corner as they tucked into the snacks provided to tide them over until the buffet supper later at the main house.
‘Come on, Kate,’ said Leonie affectionately, as her younger sister hung back as usual as they approached the stable block.
‘That’s right, love,’ said Jess, ‘chin up, chest out and smile!’ She tickled her small sister in the ribs, prodding her forward just as the door flew open and several young men fell back in mock-awe.
‘Get yourself out here, Dysart,’ yelled one of them, ‘I’ve just seen a vision—in triplicate!’
‘It’s the three graces,’ sighed another reverently.
‘Show some respect,’ ordered Adam, amiably cuffing them out of the way. ‘These are my sisters, Leonie, Jessamy and Katharine, whom you may address, if they grant permission, as Leo, Jess and Kate.’
While Adam rattled off introductions, the exuberant young guests, male and female, crowded round his sisters, pressing them to drinks.
‘No alcohol until after supper,’ Adam explained, handing orange juice to Leonie.
‘Did they go along with that?’ she asked in an undertone.
‘Absolutely. We had a pretty wild night on my birthday in Edinburgh. But here on my own patch I’ve laid down the law—no drinking until after supper, and no sneaking back here for illicit snogging and so on. I took them along the cliff path as far as the Eyrie earlier, to warn that it’s a good six hundred feet down from the path to the River Wye, and I’ll repeat the process when the rest of the gang arrive.’ Adam grinned. ‘And don’t worry about Kate. I’ll make sure she has a good time.’ He shouted for silence. ‘Listen up, you lot, my sisters are taking the women over to the house to change, and allocate bedrooms. I’ll introduce the men to my parents later.’
Back at the house time flew by in a flurry of preparation.
Young female guests were shown into the three bedrooms normally occupied by the daughters of the house, and the stream of traffic was constant along the long upper landing as jeans and sweaters were exchanged for scanty little dresses. Everyone jostled for places at full-length mirrors, and latecomers arrived to join in the melee.
‘Thank goodness you had a bath earlier on, Kate,’ said Leonie in the haven of Fenny’s little room. ‘Bags first shower, Jess—I feel travel-stained.’
Later the three of them went downstairs to join their parents for a glass of wine in the lull before more guests arrived. Fenny, in pink taffeta and lacy tights, her dark hair caught up with a velvet bow, was incandescent with excitement as she saw her sisters.
‘You all look gorgeous,’ she cried, rushing from one to the other in admiration.
‘Fenny’s right,’ agreed Tom Dysart, smiling proudly on his daughters.
‘It’s amazing how genetics work,’ said Frances with satisfaction. ‘You’ve all got something of your father and me, in various permutations.’
‘Only I drew the short straw,’ sighed Kate, pulling a face. ‘And I do mean short.’
‘You look stunning,’ said Leonie firmly. ‘And be thankful. Only someone as small as you could wear a dress like that.’
In brief, mint-green organza, with her hair coaxed up into a loose knot of curls, Kate looked very different from her everyday schoolgirl self, but it had taken naked envy from some of Adam’s girlfriends to convince her of the fact.
Leonie had released her own hair from its severe braided coil to cascade in bronze glory to her shoulders, and wore a scarlet silk sheath of such superb cut Jess eyed it reverently.
‘I admire your style, chancing that colour with your hair. Must have cost a lira or two,’ she muttered.
‘You didn’t pick that little number up in a charity shop, either,’ retorted Leonie. ‘Looks as though you were shrink-wrapped into it.’
Jess grinned. ‘I knew Adam’s girlies would all be wearing floaty little numbers so I opted for black and sexy.’
‘Very different from Leonie’s twenty-first,’ said their mother reminiscently. ‘That was all satin ballgowns.’
‘Except for Leo,’ said Jess bitterly. ‘She conned you into buying her that clinging gold job with the plunging back. It made the rest of us look like lampshades.’
‘I wasn’t even allowed to stay up,’ said Kate, smiling at