Belhaven Bride
Auteur·e
Helen Dickson
Lectures
15,8K
Chapitres
16
Chapter One
1932
It was a wet winter’s day in London. Rain lashed at the windows of Mr Rothwell’s office, obscuring the forms of bustling pedestrians on the streets. The office was spartan and cold, Mr Rothwell large, solid and humourless. In brusque tones he introduced Anna to a man by the name of Mr Alex Kent.
Stepping forward, Mr Kent expressed sympathy for her bereavement. His voice was deep, resonant and slightly accented—East European, Anna thought. He had a patrician, almost arrogant air about him that suggested education, breeding and money. However, Anna was so nervous and awed by the occasion she paid no attention to him. She was only interested in what Mr Rothwell had to say.
When the letter had come, asking her to make an appointment to attend the solicitors Rothwell and Rankin’s office in London for the reading of her mother’s will, she hadn’t known what to expect—though, of course, she didn’t know enough about lawyers and wills to make comparisons. Since then she had worked herself into a knot of anticipation and foreboding.
Mr Rothwell gestured to a leather-covered chair across the desk. ‘Please sit down, Miss Preston.’
Dressed in maroon school tunic, blazer, maroon-and-gold striped tie and sturdy black lace-ups, Anna removed her felt hat and placed it on the desk in front of her. Sitting stiff-backed on the edge of her chair, her lips compressed into a thin line, she faced the elderly lawyer across the desk. A shiver of apprehension ran through her. Glancing down at the folder in front of him, as briefly as possible Mr Rothwell explained the terms of the will. Apart from a few of her mother’s personal items there was nothing of value—no money, no property.
This came as no surprise to Anna, but what did surprise her was that her mother had placed her in the care of Lord Selwyn Manson. Lord Manson was Anna’s maternal grandfather, a man she knew practically nothing about—and the little she did know did not endear him to her. Because her mother had always spoken of him in the past tense, she had believed him to be deceased.
Anna listened in utter silence and in an agony of tightly corked emotion, her fingers tightening on each other in her lap. Her nerves were stretched, teetering on a scream.
‘This has come as something of a shock to me, Mr Rothwell. My mother sheltered me all my life, kept things from me. She often spoke of my father, who was an artist and was killed in the war before I was born, but she told me very little of her own background, only the unpleasant circumstances that forced her to leave home. I was not aware that I had any family alive at all, let alone a grandfather—or that he was a peer of the realm.’
‘Lord Manson has always been aware of your existence. I am in contact with your grandfather’s solicitors—and I am grateful that Mr Kent, who is your grandfather’s adviser and associate on several business matters, could take time off from his busy schedule to be present today.’
Anna kept focused on Mr Rothwell, feeling the eyes of the formidable Mr Kent, seated on the sofa behind her, burning holes in her back. ‘Why did my grandfather not try to contact me?’
‘Your mother forbade him to. However she stipulates in her will that on her demise, until you reach twenty-one, your guardianship must pass over to your grandfather.’
A coldness closed on Anna’s face. She shifted uneasily and wondered why pain always had to be concealed in hard reality. ‘I don’t understand. Why would my mother do that? Why should he care about me?’
‘You are his sole heir, Miss Preston, and when he dies—even after death duties—you will be an extremely wealthy woman.’
At that moment the amount of her grandfather’s money didn’t interest Anna—the disruption the terms of her mother’s will would bring to her life did. ‘Does he want to see me?’ She felt depressed and there was a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach.
‘Eventually.’
‘May I ask when?’ she asked evenly. Her tone betrayed nothing, neither shock, outrage or pain, which was deeply felt.
‘When you have completed your education.’
‘I take my Higher Certificate examinations very soon. My teachers have been preparing me for university and I was hoping to sit the Oxford entrance exam. You see, I had set my sights on a career for which a university degree is essential. However, I do not have the means to go to university now, so I am considering doing a secretarial course instead. I must work to support myself, you understand.’
‘My dear Miss Preston, you can forget about work.’
‘Why? I have to work some time.’
‘There is absolutely no question of that. You must reconsider your future. When you have taken your exams, your grandfather has expressed a wish that you continue your education in Europe.’
‘And afterwards?’
‘That you make Belhaven, which is in Buckinghamshire, your home.’
Mr Rothwell went on to talk further about Belhaven and Lord Manson’s plans for her future—coming-out, a Season. Anna gave only monosyllabic replies. She asked a brief question now and then, showing no sense of curiosity about Belhaven or the man who was to be her guardian, and feeling nothing but abhorrence at his talk of a Season. They were interrupted when his secretary knocked and opened the door, beckoning to him that she would like a word. Murmuring an apology, Mr Rothwell excused himself and left the office.
Alex Kent, who had listened quietly and intently, now got up and came towards her. He stood looking down at her slim, informal figure. At seventeen years old there was still a trace of childishness about her; in fact, Anna Preston looked as aloof and virginal as a nun in a convent. She was calm, controlled, which, he thought, was her normal way of doing things, but beneath it all a kind of fierce energy seemed to burn.
When they had been introduced, she had looked at him uncertainly and taken his outstretched hand. Her grip had been surprisingly firm for her age, and when she spoke her voice was soft and cultured. His first reaction had been, ‘what a prim miss’, and then, more soberly, ‘what a pretty—no—beautiful girl’. Her skin was pale, her features small and delicate, but it was the large violet eyes and upward slanting eyebrows that drew and arrested his gaze so that the rest was forgotten. Her hair was long, silken and black, drawn in a maroon ribbon at the back of her neck. Her expression was still and frozen, an expression he understood. It was the look of a girl who had never been happy—who was frightened to allow herself so frivolous an emotion in case it was taken away. He knew her mother had helped keep it there.
‘Your grandfather and I have been close friends for many years,’ Alex said. ‘He realised the problems you would have to face today and asked me to come here to look after you. I have accepted that responsibility.’
‘May I ask why he didn’t come himself?’
‘He suffers from a severe form of arthritis that prevents him moving about. He lives quietly, rarely leaving the house. Aren’t you interested to know more about Belhaven—about your grandfather or your future?’
‘No, sir, not very,’ Anna replied, speaking politely and frankly and looking up at him from her fringe of dark lashes. As she did so she remembered the night when she had been six years old and she had walked in on her mother crying wretchedly for her long dead husband. In her anguished ravings and with half a bottle of gin inside her, her mother had told of the harsh, cruel treatment meted out to her by the very man Alex Kent spoke of.
Her mother, always careful never to show emotion or feeling, had never spoken of it again, but what Anna had seen and been told had affected her deeply. With all the anger and confusion of a child she had craved revenge for what her grandfather had done to her mother. And now that same man was arrogantly demanding control of her life.
‘Any interest my grandfather shows in me now is seventeen years too late, Mr Kent. I have worked hard for my examinations in the hope that I can go on and further my education. Do you expect me to turn cartwheels over a house and a man I thought was dead—a man who was so unfeeling he turned his back on my mother for marrying the man of her choice?’
Alex Kent sat on one corner of the desk, gently swinging one elegantly shod foot, forcing her to look at him properly for the first time. Probably twenty-seven or eight, his skin was burned mahogany brown—suggesting an extended holiday in the south of France or somewhere similar where the rich and famous went—contrasting vividly with his silver-grey eyes. The planes of his face were angular, his gaze penetrating. His black hair, as black as her own, was brushed back, with the gleam and vitality of a panther’s pelt. Anna noted the crisp way it curled in the nape of his neck, and the hard muscled width of his shoulders beneath his expensively tailored jacket. The firm set of his jaw confirmed her impression that he would stand no nonsense from anyone. He towered above her, making her at once guarded, vulnerable, and acutely uncomfortable as he considered her in lengthy silence.
‘Not entirely,’ Alex replied at length in answer to her question. ‘When your father died your grandfather asked her to return home. She refused, allowing sentiment and not good sense to rule her emotions. If she was unhappy, she had no one to blame but herself. But what of you? Your mother was a secretary to an accountant in the city, living in a rented house in Highgate. You must have known she wasn’t earning the kind of money to send you to Gilchrist. Did it ever occur to you to wonder where she found the money to finance your education at such an exclusive school, a school with high academic standards, admitting only the daughters of the very rich?’
Anna grew thoughtful. He was right, Gilchrist was expensive and exclusive, as befitted the daughters of people of class. She had puzzled on this, but, after a while, accepted it. It was easier that way. ‘No. But I suspect I am about to find out.’
Alex nodded, his gaze hardening at her tone, which was offhand and with a hint of animosity. ‘Your grandfather. Despite their estrangement, your mother was not averse to accepting his money to finance your education—but she would accept nothing for herself. She sheltered you, kept things from you. You never questioned her, which tells me you are either stupid or afraid of reality.’ His eyes narrowed when her smooth façade broke. An objection sprang to her lips, which she checked, and her face became flushed, the blood running beneath her smooth skin in the painful way it does when one is young. ‘The latter, I think.’
‘If I am as stupid and naïve as you obviously think, then I would do better to harden myself in my own way, with my own kind of people,’ Anna snapped.
Alex raised an eyebrow. Her remark stirred his anger, and when he spoke his tone was harsh and to the point. ‘Your own kind of people have always resided at Belhaven. Harden yourself, by all means, but do it in the right place and with the right people. Perhaps a year at finishing school will help you acquire charm and confidence and, since you are to move in exalted circles, will help you develop a feeling of being the equal of any man or woman—which, being the granddaughter and heir of one of England’s wealthiest men, is important.’
Anna blanched and for the space of half a minute she could not speak. ‘Forgive me. I really had no idea my grandfather was that rich. So, it is his intention to turn me into a facsimile of a well-bred, well-connected young woman.’
‘Which is precisely what you are,’ Alex stated, with a distinctly unpleasant edge to his voice. He smiled his rather austere smile, one corner of his mouth curling.
With a sinking heart, Anna wished he didn’t make her feel like the gauche schoolgirl she was. It was irritating to be judged on appearances and found lacking.
‘You are impertinent, Miss Preston,’ he went on reproachfully. ‘Gilchrist may apply great emphasis to the values of academic ability, but where manners are concerned it appears to be somewhat lacking.’
Anger kindled in the depths of Anna’s dark eyes. Tutored in rules of discipline and restraint, normally she would never dream of arguing with anyone, especially not with an elder. She was far too polite, far too dutiful, but this stranger had a way of getting under her skin and releasing something unpleasant in her. He also knew far too much about her and about her mother for her liking.
‘I suppose I must seem impertinent to you,’ she admitted, meeting his gaze unflinchingly, her sense of depression growing worse. ‘With no family to speak of, with a mother who ignored me thoroughly throughout my life, with no brothers and sisters to keep me in my place and never having known my father, I say all kinds of impertinent things, Mr Kent. Am I supposed to feel grateful to my grandfather? Because, try as I might, I can find no hint of gratitude within me.’
Alex’s anger with her vanished and his expression softened. ‘I apologise if I sounded harsh just now,’ he said gently. ‘I should have known better.’ For the first time she had let her guard slip a little and truth over loyalty to her mother prevailed. He was strangely moved by her words. Anna Preston had lived her life in a tight discipline. The extent and intensity of her mother’s unhappiness and bitterness at the death of her husband after just one year of marriage—the man she had loved above all else, including her daughter—had been with her through life. Sadly, its tragic effects were visible on the young face before him, and as a result Anna Preston was seventeen going on seventy.
For an instant Anna thought she saw a shadow of sympathy flit over Mr Kent’s face. Before she could be certain it was gone, replaced by a faintly ironic interest. She was normally not the sort of person to go around revealing information about herself, let alone to total strangers. In fact, she would normally cut her own tongue out before revealing how things had been between herself and her mother, but there was something about Alex Kent that drew you into his rather intense personality. Realising she had given too much of herself away and that he’d picked up on it, regretting her outspokenness she lowered her eyes. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s no concern of yours.’
‘You’re right, it isn’t, but I’m a good listener—if you’d like to talk about it?’ Alex prompted.
Anna shook her head, thankful that he didn’t pursue it.
‘Miss Bartlet, your headmistress, has always sent Lord Manson’s solicitors annual reports of your progress. She says you’ve worked hard and done extremely well in class, that you are a credit to your school. Your grandfather is immensely proud of you. He was glad to see the money he provided was well invested.’
‘So I’m an investment,’ Anna remarked coolly, indignantly tilting her chin a notch. ‘I’m pleased he considers my good marks in class as value for money. I suppose taking his money all these years means that I have to give something back—that he expects it, that it is a debt to be repaid. But what if I choose not to go to school abroad, to turn my back on everything he offers,’ she enquired, ‘for I need no one’s aid or protection?
‘I do not in the least mean to sound ungrateful, but I find nothing at all pleasurable in the prospect of having my established order of things turned upside down. It has always been my intention to be self-sufficient, to make my own way in the world.’
‘Which is a trait I personally admire in anyone—be it man or woman—unlike your grandfather. It is one of the few things we disagree on. It is his considered opinion that marriage and motherhood is the true career for a woman, that ladies do not take up paid employment.’
This unexpected revelation about Lord Manson was uttered quietly and accompanied by a smile. It was a smile that took all the harshness and offence out of Alex Kent’s previous words, a smile that was instantly rueful, conspiratorial and incredibly charming, a smile that said he perfectly understood how hard the situation was for her. Anna was absorbed in the smile, a smile that drew her into a private alliance. He was sitting perfectly still, watching her. Something in his expression made her hastily drop her gaze, but the warmly intimate look had been vibrantly, alarmingly alive, and its effect would remain with her.
Raising her head, she looked at him hard. ‘Such prejudice is stupid in this day and age. Women are no longer the weaker sex.’
‘I couldn’t agree more, but do I detect a hint of feminism in that remark?’
‘I just happen to believe women should have the same opportunities as men. If that happens to be feminist then so be it. My mother was of that opinion, too. One thing I am thankful for is that she believed passionately in the education of women, which was why she went to great pains to have me properly educated.’
‘And you want to go to university?’
‘Yes. I’ve set my heart on it. Domestic subjects are given low priority at Gilchrist, as you will know, Mr Kent. Academic success is the main goal, with university entrance the pinnacle of ambition—which my grandfather must have known when my mother sent me there. However, I realised when she died that I lack the means to go to university, and if necessary I will take the Civil Service entrance examination instead.’
‘And do clerical work?’
‘If I have to.’
‘I can’t see you drumming your brains out on a typewriter.’
‘Needs must, Mr Kent,’ she said, and her small jaw was set in a way that Alex found so reminiscent of Selwyn he almost laughed.
‘Not in your case.’
Alex looked down on Anna’s quiet composure, her certainty, and her absolute confidence in herself. ‘The Belhaven inheritance by tradition is rightfully yours,’ he continued on a more serious note. ‘There is no other direct heir, no son or daughter, no other grandchildren to carry on the ancient line. You, Miss Preston, are the last of the line. Should you refuse to have anything to do with your grandfather, on his death the estate will be broken up, its treasures dispersed.’
‘I see. So, in spite of his power and wealth, my grandfather has no stake in immortality,’ Anna remarked drily.
‘No one has that.’
Anna fell silent and averted her gaze. She felt lost and so very alone. She had no one to turn to. No one. Every avenue of appeal was closed to her. Even this man concurred with her grandfather. ‘It appears I am left with no choice but to adhere to my mother’s wishes and do as my grandfather says,’ she said softly, without joy.
‘You are his rightful heir, so my advice to you is to accept it with the grace and dignity of your noble lineage. Furthermore, the fact that it was your mother’s wish that you make your future at Belhaven with your grandfather makes me fervently believe she would have forgiven him if she’d had the chance that you now have.’
Her ire coming to the fore once more, Anna tossed her head. ‘I am not my mother.’
Alex recognised in her remark the same hostility he found whenever he negotiated with any business rival who was being forced by circumstances to sell something he wanted to hold on to. It was her pride that was forcing her to retaliate by making the whole situation as difficult as possible for Alex.
Fearing that she was vacillating, he said pointedly, ‘I realise what the loss of your mother must mean to you in a personal sense and I respect your bereavement. But you must consider the effect her death has had on Lord Manson. His feelings for her were passionate and deep. She caused him unimaginable suffering when she defied him and married your father. The fact that she has died so suddenly without making amends, which your grandfather has tried to do since the day she walked out, has affected him deeply. He loved her more than you imagine. Whatever you may think, he is heartbroken.’
Refusing to be mollified and reluctant to change her opinion of a man she had spent her life hating because of the suffering he had caused her mother, suppressing the urge to remark that she doubted her grandfather had a heart to break, Anna said somewhat ungraciously, ‘He’ll survive.’
Stifling a sigh of impatience, Alex said with unintentional curtness, ‘I am sure he will. You are an intelligent young woman, Miss Preston. You’ll learn your grandfather’s ways quickly. You’ll soon come to terms with his system, his peculiarities.’
‘My mother told me he insisted upon controlling her. He cast her out. After all he has done, am I to pretend it didn’t happen?’
‘You are not his judge, but even if you were, don’t you think it would be best to be certain of your facts before you pass sentence? Are you to commit your grandfather without hearing his defence?’
Anna looked at him solemnly for a moment, then she said, ‘I don’t mean to. I will let him put his case. But are you saying my mother was lying, Mr Kent?’
‘I hate to be the one to disabuse you of your illusions, but your mother walked out of Belhaven. It was her choice. There is more to the matter than appears on the surface.’
‘Then I would be obliged if you would enlighten me.’
‘It’s for your grandfather to do that. Not me.’ Standing up, he picked up her maroon mackintosh and helped her into it. ‘There are details to be worked out, but they needn’t concern you at this point. Your grandfather’s solicitors will contact your headmistress when a suitable school has been found—perhaps in France or Switzerland. Do you have a preference?’
‘No,’ she answered, unable to keep the disappointment she felt about being denied the chance to realise her dream at university from her voice. But she had to be sensible and practical. ‘Since you appear to know a great deal about me already—which, because you are a stranger to me, I must say I find quite unsettling and objectionable—you will know I have never been further than my school in Essex, so either will do.’
Alex was shocked into momentary silence. In his own world and wide circle of friends and acquaintances, everyone went everywhere, and often. It was difficult to accept this bright young girl had never been anywhere beyond Essex. ‘All the more reason why you should continue your education abroad for a year or thereabouts. They do say that travel broadens the mind, especially at your age. Afterwards you will go to live at Belhaven. Your grandfather wants you to have the opportunity to enjoy a Season—to look over the eligible young men,’ he added almost as an afterthought, a humorous twinkle glinting in his eyes.
Anna stiffened, finding nothing funny about that. ‘Does he indeed? He is going to be disappointed. A Season is quite out of the question. I want no presentation at Court, no coming-out. The sole purpose of all that ghastly nonsense is for a girl to procure a husband. The manner in which she is put on parade for gentlemen to look her over like a filly in the ring at a race meeting is quite absurd and so outdated, don’t you think?’ She paused when she saw Mr Kent’s eyes widen and a smile tug at his lips as he nodded his agreement. ‘I have no inclination to marry in the foreseeable future—not for years and years, in fact, so it would be pointless.’
Suppressing the smile, Alex smoothed his expression into an admirable imitation of earnest gravity. ‘I quite agree, but we will see what happens to you when you are of an age to decide—in a year’s time.’
‘Age has nothing to do with it,’ Anna went on somewhat irately. ‘I will not change my mind, but I hope my grandfather will change his. His ideas are stuffy and antiquated. I cannot see the point, or the purpose, of sending me abroad to an expensive school. It will be money totally wasted. If he must spend his money on me, I’d much rather he sent me to university instead.’
‘The purpose of spending a year at school abroad is to enrich the mind, not to train it for some exacting occupation. But whatever you do in the future, your education will prove invaluable to you. Plenty of time when you return for university and to develop a career if you want to.’
‘Even though my grandfather will oppose it?’
‘I’m sure you’ll be able to win him round,’ Alex said, desperately trying to prove to her she wasn’t as powerless as she thought she was. ‘Your grandfather is a fine man, Anna—you don’t mind me calling you by your Christian name?’ She shook her head. ‘It isn’t natural for two people who are close to be strangers to each other.’
‘But after all these years—’
‘He wants to meet you. You could make him happy. He is the finest man I have ever known. I admire him enormously.’ There were few people Alex admired. ‘One day I hope you will understand what I mean. There’s no limit to what he can do for you—if you let him.’
‘The role of grandfather cannot be assumed by a total stranger, Mr Kent, and I cannot be expected to love him to order.’
‘That is the last thing Lord Manson would expect of you.’
Anna found herself quite intrigued by Alex Kent; she looked at him enquiringly, tilting her head to one side. ‘I suppose you went to university.’ For a moment he looked quite taken aback. Immediately she regretted her impulsiveness. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said sincerely. ‘I didn’t mean to pry.’
‘Don’t be sorry. You may ask anything you like—within reason,’ he added an almost imperceptible second later. Anna perceived that second and she recognised what he was saying—not to pry too deep. ‘I will be as honest and direct as I can,’ he went on. ‘I did go to university—Balliol College at Oxford.’
‘And got a double first, I expect.’ The smile that moved across his lean brown face confirmed her remark. ‘You must have had to work unimaginably hard.’
‘No academic achievement is automatic.’
‘Mr Kent, I really don’t want to go to school abroad and the prospect of being thrust into an unaccustomed social life in the company of hundreds of strangers appalls me,’ she told him earnestly. ‘It’s a worthless, frivolous life and I would hate every minute of it. I don’t think I will be able to stand it. I’ve always known what I want to do with my life. I know it…perhaps like you did.’
He nodded slowly. ‘Ambition comes before everything. That’s a fundamental lesson I learned a long time ago. I can see you’re serious, that you have your heart set on it.’
‘Yes. I’ve always been determined and single-minded about what I want, and the fact that I might fall at the first hurdle—that of lack of money and opposition from a man I’ve never met—undoubtedly means I am losing both those qualities. Please will you try to make my grandfather understand how important going to university is to me? Don’t forget that I don’t have to do what he wants. I can still walk away.’ Her gaze was steady and meaningful as it became fixed on his.
Alex was silent, studying her seriously, then he began very slowly to smile. ‘That sounds to me like blackmail, Miss Preston.’
Anna’s expression became sublimely innocent. ‘Does it? It was not intended. I’m merely trying to strike a bargain.’
Alex cocked a sleek black brow. ‘With Lord Manson? Several have tried—and failed. I must tell you that your grandfather hasn’t considered university and will probably say it’s an absurd notion, but I promise I will try.’
‘Oh, my goodness,’ said Anna, her eyes alight with hope, ‘do you think you could? I would be most grateful.’
Alex saw her poignant look of gratitude before she masked her feelings with a smile. ‘Leave it with me. I’ll see what I can do. Now, come along, I’ll get you something to eat and then drive you to the station.’
‘Thank you, but there’s no need.’ Her smile broadened—a sudden, dazzling smile that hit Alex somewhere in the region of his stomach. He seemed to be looking at a different person. ‘Miss Bartlet very kindly allowed Mr Cherry—that’s the school chauffeur, to bring me to town in the car. Goodbye, Mr Kent. No doubt we’ll meet again some time—at Belhaven, perhaps.’ Placing her maroon hat securely on her head, she turned her back on him and marched briskly towards the door.
‘Anna?’ Alex called after her.
She stopped and turned. ‘Now what?’
‘You’re doing the right thing—about going to Belhaven,’ he said softly.
‘I hope you’re right, but whatever happens I’ll cope—just as I always have.’
Alex watched her go. Never had he been so dismissed. He suppressed a smile. Anna Preston was a tough little madam and his admiration for her was acknowledged. Something warmed him as he watched her go. And the way her face had been transformed by her smile—hope renewed that he might be able to arrange it for her with her grandfather for her to go to university after all. He suspected that she didn’t smile often, and when she did it was as if she were bestowing some kind of favour.
He began to wonder what she would be like after three years at university—if he could persuade Selwyn into letting her go—and if Selwyn had not made a grave mistake in what he intended for her. Reserved, proud and young as she was, it would be interesting to observe the maturing of Anna Preston—to assist in it, even. At that moment he didn’t know whether she would be a curse or a godsend at Belhaven, but he was looking forward to finding out.
Seated in the back of the car as Mr Cherry negotiated his way through the traffic, Anna gazed out on a dismal London town without really seeing anything at all. The meeting had left her feeling angry and disturbed. It was hard to be told that she had a grandfather by a complete stranger, instead of by her mother, Lavinia, a beautiful, unapproachable, untouchable stranger. As mother and daughter they had respected each other, but they had been neither companions nor friends. Anna had never understood her, and now she was dead she never would.
They had spent so little time together. The small rented house in Highgate was just a place Anna went to for Christmas and organised holidays—none of them happy. Her mother’s death from pneumonia had been sudden. She had been buried in Highgate cemetery as she had wished—without fuss and with just a few friends to mourn her passing.
And now Anna’s grandfather was to take charge of her life and send her to a school abroad where she would learn the dreary things the girls who were to be next year’s vacuous débutantes were taught.
Closing her eyes, she rested her head wearily on the leather upholstery. She felt horribly depressed at the prospect of Mr Kent failing to persuade her grandfather to allow her to go to university, forcing her to put her career on hold, of being indebted, of enforced gratitude to an old man who had made her mother’s life a misery. It wasn’t fair. It simply wasn’t fair.
