LITMIR.BIZ

      ‘I can’t believe it’s you, Johnny!’ Edward exclaimed, rushing across the library of Neville’s Chelsea house. ‘No one told me you would be here today!’

      Hurrying forward to greet his favourite cousin, Johnny Watkins explained, with a wide grin, ‘That’s because no one knew I would be arriving last night.’

      Meeting in the middle of the floor, the two men wore appraising expressions as they eyed one another with great affection. They both laughed, remembering so much. They were not only first cousins but the best of friends, having bonded long ago when they were growing up in Yorkshire—Johnny at Witton Castle, Rick’s splendid home in the Dales, Edward at Ravenscar on the high cliffs at the edge of the North Sea. They were regular visitors to each other’s homes, and also often stayed with Neville and Nan at Thorpe Manor near Ripon.

      Although Johnny was a few years older than Ned, they had always seen eye to eye, shared the same values…honour, integrity, loyalty to family, and devotion to friends. These were their sincere and genuine beliefs, and they had remained steadfast in their love for each other and in their friendship.

      Standing away from Edward, Johnny’s dark-grey eyes swept over his cousin’s face, and he said, with a faint smile, ‘You don’t look like the wounded warrior to me.’

      ‘I’m not. Not anymore, Johnny. It’s two weeks since the incident, so the bruises are almost gone. I’m no longer black and blue, and the shoulder pains have also fled.’

      Johnny touched Ned’s arm lightly, his expression serious. ‘Thank God you’re all right. You could’ve been killed, you know, Ned. And then where would I have been? Where would all of us have been? After losing my brother Thomas and your Edmund, and our fathers, well, I don’t think I could have survived the loss of you.’

      There was a moment’s silence.

      Ned’s brilliantly blue eyes turned dark with pain before he said slowly, ‘I know, it’s still a raw wound, for all of us. But we do have our families, and each other, Johnny.’

      ‘For life,’ Johnny answered.

      Ned nodded, smiled at his friend and cousin. And at this moment he had no way of knowing that it would not always be so. Not in the end.

      ‘How is Isabella? And your boy?’ Ned asked.

      ‘Wonderful, and if my sojourn here becomes a more permanent situation, she will come with our son to London, live here with me. Neville is well satisfied that things are under control in Yorkshire. The woollen mills in Bradford are turning out the best cloth, a lot of it for export. Our heavy-machinery manufacturing plants in Leeds are booming. The coal mines are operating well, better than ever—in fact all of our industrial interests are at full throttle. My father had everything running smoothly when he was killed—’ Johnny broke off, looked away for a second before adding, ‘and Neville has always had his business interests on an even keel. That’s why he decided I should come here and keep you company, so to speak. Until we take over Deravenels.’

      ‘And that we will certainly be doing in the not-too-distant future!’ Neville Watkins announced self-confidently from the doorway, and came striding into the library accompanied by Alfredo Oliveri and Amos Finnister.

      Once he had greeted Ned affectionately, he introduced the other two men to his brother John.

      Although Neville and Johnny bore a marked family resemblance, they were quite different. Neville, the eldest, was always elegance personified, dressed in the best. Johnny was not at all flamboyant in his choice of attire, and he dressed rather simply in good clothes that were understated.

      Johnny was as good looking as all of the Watkins’ clan, and like his older brother he bore a strong resemblance to his Aunt Cecily Watkins Deravenel.

      As for his character, he was hardworking and disciplined but not quite the slave to business that his brother was. He very frequently teased Neville, told him he lived out of a suitcase as he travelled the length and breadth of England.

      Johnny liked the quiet country life, was something of a homebody, unlike Neville and Ned, who thrived amidst luxury, glamour and splendour, and loved the gilded life of society.

      Neville indicated the men should sit down near the fireplace. ‘Even though it’s the beginning of April, it’s still rather cold,’ he pointed out, and seated himself near the hearth.

      A moment later Will Hasling came striding into the library, greeting everyone in his usual breezy and cheerful manner, and then he hurried over to Johnny; they shook hands. They were old friends, good friends, and trusted each other implicitly.

      Neville said, ‘Oliveri has a few things to tell us, so I suggest he speaks first.’

      Alfredo nodded, and sitting slightly forward in the chair, he said, ‘The first thing I want to report is the general attitude at Deravenels after Mr Edward was so brutally attacked two weeks ago. I noticed the tense atmosphere myself, but most of my information came from Robert Aspen and Christopher Green. They are on our side. Anyway, they told me, separately, by the way, that John Summers was really furious, that he hauled his ex-ecutives over the coals regarding the attack on Mr Edward, and demanded to know who was responsible.’

      ‘I’ll wager they all denied having anything to do with it,’ Ned exclaimed, glancing across at Neville.

      Alfredo nodded vehemently. ‘Naturally they did. And then James Cliff did something quite treacherous. He said, rather pointedly, that Jack Beaufield ought to know who was behind it since he was “sequestered” with Margot Grant quite a lot these days.’

      ‘Really,’ Neville remarked, then laughed at the thought of this. ‘Well, we sort of knew that already, didn’t we, Finnister?’

      The private investigator smiled but remained silent.

      ‘Jack Beaufield admitted that he was friendly with her,’ Alfredo explained, ‘but insisted he had refused to help her do harm to Ned. He suggested she hire thugs to do her dirty work.’

      ‘It’s more than likely she did,’ Amos now interjected, ‘but we’ll never be able to prove it.’

      ‘John Summers has cooled on Margot Grant, angrily turned away from his Queen Bee, but not for long. Christopher Green says they are once more in cahoots, and just as friendly as ever, whilst Jack Beaufield has been relegated to a back bench.’ Alfredo sat back, his eyes on Neville.

      ‘None of this is really surprising,’ Neville began and then stopped abruptly, considered things for a moment. ‘However, come to think of it, it’s not such a bad idea, having them all at each other’s throats.’

      ‘They won’t be for long,’ Ned interrupted. ‘They are all smitten by that woman, solidly behind her.’

      Alfredo said, ‘I would like to speak to you all about Aubrey Masters now. Apart from the fact that he’s been acting somewhat strangely, he’s apparently got it in for me. I hear he is trying to have me thrown out of the company. And out of the country. He’s blackening my name, I’m afraid, and I don’t like the look of things.’

      ‘He must

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