The Complete Ravenscar Trilogy: The Ravenscar Dynasty, Heirs of Ravenscar, Being Elizabeth - Barbara Taylor Bradford

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side, Ned would succeed in taking over Deravenels, it was just a question of time. From what Ned had said recently perhaps it would be sooner than she had anticipated. There was nothing she could do except wait. She wanted their circumstances to change, wanted to know that her children were safe, out of the reaches of the treacherous Grants.

      Cecily smiled as her eyes settled on Anne, Neville’s youngest daughter. She was an exquisite child, delicate in her beauty, intelligent, like quicksilver. How adoring Anne was of Richard; she trailed after him like a devoted puppy dog. Richard did not seem to mind her attention, was responsive to her and very protective.

      Anne was seated opposite Cecily, and as if she had read her aunt’s thoughts, she announced in her light, clear voice, ‘Richard and I are going to be married, Aunt Cecily.’

      Everyone at the table looked at Anne in surprise, and with some amusement. There was a trickle of warm laughter from the adults.

      Richard said, ‘But not for a long time, Mama. Not until we’re grown up.’

      ‘But of course, Dick, we do understand that,’ Cecily murmured, smiling at her youngest child.

      Ned said, ‘Well done, my boy. It’s a good idea to stake your claim on a lady early. Just promise me one thing.’

      ‘What is that?’ Richard asked solemnly, his grey-blue eyes so serious.

      ‘Promise that I can be your best man.’

      Richard beamed at his hero and nodded enthusiastically.

      Not to be left out, George now asserted, in a very grand voice for a little boy, ‘And I am going to marry Isabel.’

      Isabel gazed at him, turned bright pink, said nothing. But she looked pleased if also somewhat startled.

      ‘My goodness, all these sudden announcements,’ Cecily responded, staring at George, then smiling at Isabel.

      Isabel smiled back, continued to gaze at George through loving eyes, euphoria flooding her face. She looked at her mother shyly.

      Neville remarked in a light amused tone, ‘All these announcements indeed, Cecily! And yet no one has asked my permission.’

      Ned threw back his head and roared with laughter. ‘Nor my mother’s, nor mine,’ he spluttered, his spontaneous laughter infecting the rest of the table.

      Richard looked slightly embarrassed, and threw an appealing glance at Edward.

      His brother responded at once. ‘When you’re grown up, Dickie, you can ask Uncle Neville for Anne’s hand in marriage. As for me, I give you my permission now.’

      ‘What about me?’ George demanded, never one to be outdone. ‘Do you give me your permission, Ned? After all, I’m older than Richard, and Isabel is older than Anne.’

      Yes, and she’s the heiress to a vast fortune, Ned thought, if Nan doesn’t give him a son. ‘Of course you have my permission,’ Ned responded at last, smiling at George. But he could not help thinking that his brother was showing some very dubious characteristics, avariciousness being one of them. He bears watching, Ned thought. He might spell trouble when he grows up.

      The music washed over him in waves, lulling his senses; slowly he felt the tension easing out of his shoulders and finally he relaxed in the seat. What a blessed relief this was…letting go, escaping into this world of thrilling sounds…the music was like an enchantment, taking him to another world.

      Edward was with Lily at the Bechstein Concert Hall in Wigmore Street, attending the Sunday night concert. He loved music as much as she did, and tonight was special. The featured piece was Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2 in C Minor, a concerto which was a favourite of theirs.

      The second movement was coming to a close now, the crescendo engulfing him; he allowed himself to be engulfed, submerged himself in it gratefully. So many of the troubling thoughts running through his head fell away as he gave himself up to the music entirely.

      Suddenly it was over. Everyone was on their feet, clapping and cheering. Lily leaned into him and whispered, ‘Wasn’t it thrilling, darling?’

      ‘Stupendous,’ he answered. ‘Thank you for bringing me.’

      Smiling at him with total adoration, she whispered, ‘Who else but you? Now tell me that.’ He just laughed. Protectively, he escorted her out of the concert hall and into the street where the carriage she had hired for the evening was waiting for them.

      In order to shake off Johnny and Will, his bodyguards, wanting to be alone with Lily tonight, earlier in the day he had explained to his mother exactly where he was going, adding, ‘And my friend has hired a carriage. I’ll be perfectly safe, Mother.’ After a moment’s thought she had agreed with him, had excused herself and left the room. She returned a moment later, and had handed him ten guineas. ‘But Mother—’ he had begun, and she had waved his words away, explaining that he must now have an allowance every week, that it had been arranged with Neville. ‘Take Mrs Overton to dinner after the concert, and be the gentleman you are, Ned.’

      And so they were going to the Savoy Hotel for supper, and he was excited that for once he could take Lily somewhere elegant and pay for it himself.

      Once they were settled in the carriage, he told her about lunch at Neville’s that day, and she laughed delightedly when he recounted the story of Anne’s announcement that she and Richard were going to marry. In fact, they laughed all the way to the Savoy Hotel in the Strand, chuckling over the antics of the children.

      Heads turned as the two of them walked through the hotel lobby. They made a stunning couple, he so tall and handsome, she the most beautiful of women and elegantly dressed in a chic outfit of dark royal blue. After they had been seated in the dining room overlooking the Thames, Ned ordered a whisky for himself and lemonade for Lily.

      When they had settled down, Ned asked, ‘How are you feeling, darling Lily?’

      ‘Healthy, Ned, thank you. Please don’t worry so much about the baby. It’s the morning sickness which is truly the worst, but otherwise I’m well. Really and truly.’

      He smiled at her, touching her cheek with a fingertip. ‘And that’s how you look—absolutely well.’

      As he savoured his whisky and soda, Edward told her about the tiaras his mother owned, and that she was going to send them to the jewellers to have them appraised and then sold. ‘She insists on doing this, Lily, in order to finance the purchase of a house for me. In Mayfair. I understand she’s already seen one in Berkeley Square, and thinks it’s ideal for me. She wants me to have my own household.’

      Lily nodded, smiling and was about to tell him she had seen one for herself nearby in South Audley Street, which she was contemplating buying. But she knew it would be inappropriate. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was trying to cling, because of the baby she was expecting.

      Ned said, ‘You looked as if you were about to tell me something, Lily, but changed your mind. What was it?’

      ‘Nothing,’ she lied, and went on, ‘Shall we look at the menu, I am a little hungry.’

      He nodded and signalled to the waiter who was by their side in a split second. He gave them the menus, recommended various items and departed.

      Lily said, ‘I think I will have Dover sole: it’s light.’

      ‘So will I. And what would you like first?’

      ‘Nothing really—well, perhaps a cup of bouillon soup. I find if I eat anything heavy at night I suffer from indigestion these days.’

      He smiled, leaned into her, and whispered, ‘You poor thing…I can’t wait to see our child, hold her.’

      ‘Oh you’ve decided on the sex, have you? A girl, eh?’

      ‘Well, you know how much

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