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King Of Swords. Sara Craven
Читать онлайн.Название King Of Swords
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Автор произведения Sara Craven
Жанр Современные любовные романы
Издательство HarperCollins
She sat down on her dressing stool and lifted her hair on top of her head in a casual swirl, studying herself, experimenting. The brief knock on her door made her start, and she looked up guiltily to see her mother had joined her.
‘Are you waiting for me?’ Julia jumped up. ‘I’ll only be a few minutes.’
‘No—no. Everything’s running like clockwork really—as it should after all these years.’ Lydia Kendrick’s voice was pitched higher than usual, and she dabbed at her mouth with a lace-edged handkerchief. ‘Jools darling, I shouldn’t be here talking to you like this. Your father told me to wait until after the party—not to spoil things for you on your first night—but I can’t …’
Julia put a protective arm round the slender shoulders, helping her to the window seat and sitting beside her.
‘What is it, love? Has Daddy been backing losers again? Is that why Polly’s here, to give him the usual rap over the knuckles?’
Lydia gave a strangled sob. ‘It’s worse than that,’ she said hoarsely. ‘So much worse. I don’t know how to tell you…’ There was a pause while she obviously fought for control. Then she said brokenly, ‘Jools—your father is having to sell this house.’
Julia had the oddest sensation that everything in the room had receded to a great distance. Her voice sounded very clear, however, and very cold.
‘Is this some awful joke? Because I’m afraid I don’t find it very funny …’
‘Would I—could I joke about something like this?’ Her mother’s tone was piteous. ‘Ambermere has to go. That’s why Mr Poulton’s here. He’s been here every day almost for the past two weeks. Your—your father’s had a lot of financial setbacks. The Mullion Corporation takeover—there was talk of insider trading—he had to resign from the board, although he swears he had nothing to do with it. And that’s not all. Some time ago, Daddy changed a lot of our investments, because he felt we needed more return from our money. Some of the new investments were—high-risk, but he thought it was worth the gamble.’ She swallowed nervously. ‘We lost a great deal—too much. It’s been a disaster. We have to sell Ambermere, Jools, because we can’t afford to go on living here. The party tonight will be the last we’ll ever give.’ She began to cry, her throat wrenched by small gusty sobs.
Julia sat holding her, feeling frozen.
Worth the gamble, she thought. Those words had a hollow ring. All her life, her father had been a gambler, preferring to live his life on a knife-edge of insecurity. There were years when his betting and baccarat losses had been phenomenal. Julia could remember tearful scenes, and an atmosphere of gloomy repentance which she had only partly understood at the time.
Later, it had been explained to her that their income was adequate as long as they lived quietly and without undue extravagance. But that wasn’t Philip Kendrick’s way. Country life bored him, except in small doses. He was always looking out for some scheme which would restore the family fortunes to some fabled pre-war level. He’d been like some small boy, looking for adventure, she thought. But now the adventure had gone hideously wrong.
She said, ‘Why—did Polly let him?’
‘He didn’t tell him anything about it until it was too late. You see, Daddy had been taking advice from some American he’d met in Monte Carlo—some financial wizard.’ Lydia’s lips tightened. ‘Apparently this man’s just been indicted for fraud in New York.’
Julia felt sick, ‘Oh, God—Daddy’s not involved in that?’
‘Oh, no.’ Lydia’s fingers tore nervously at her handkerchief, but her voice was decisively reassuring. ‘Darling, I know how you must feel—but Daddy did this for the best. The costs of running a house like this, an estate like Ambermere, are punitively high. He wanted you to have—a proper inheritance, not to have to scrimp and save all your life.’
Julia felt immensely weary. ‘Why didn’t you tell me—call me back from Aunt Miriam’s?’
‘We wanted you to have a good time. And there was nothing you could have done.’
‘There must be something. I’m not going to let Ambermere go like this.’ Julia tried to smile. ‘Perhaps no one will want to buy the Albatross. No one we know has that kind of money.’
There was a long silence, then Lydia said quietly, ‘These days, darling, estates like this tend to look for buyers from abroad. And Mr Poulton has found one for us.’
‘Abroad?’ Julia echoed dazedly. She shook her head. ‘Not some Arab prince? I don’t believe it…’
‘Not quite. In fact—’ there were bright spots of colour burning in her mother’s cheeks ‘—I would almost prefer it. This man is Greek—a so-called tycoon. His name is Alexandros Constantis.’
‘Constantis?’ Julia’s brows snapped together. ‘That’s familiar. Does he have a relative called Paul?’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ Lady Kendrick said with distaste. ‘What I’ve heard of his antecedents is bad enough. I have no wish to enquire into his immediate family. Not that they have very much to do with him,’ she added with unaccustomed waspishness.
‘Then it must be the same man,’ Julia said slowly, thinking, remembering. ‘I had dinner with Paul Constantis a few times—he was charming. He had a post at the Greek Embassy—something fairly junior, I gathered, but he used to joke about nature having intended him to be a millionaire until fate, in the shape of his cousin Alex, had prevented it.’
‘Poor boy,’ Lydia Kendrick said, almost fiercely. ‘I imagine that’s only too true. You’re too young to remember the scandal, of course, but George Constantis was an immensely wealthy man, with a fortune in banking and property all over the Mediterranean. He was a widower, and childless, and his estate was expected to go to his sister and her children. Then lo and behold, on his deathbed, he suddenly revealed that he had an illegitimate son and had left his entire business empire to this child.’ She shook her head. ‘The family wouldn’t have objected to some kind of provision, naturally, but to have this person no one had ever known existed foisted on to them—over them—was appalling. He wasn’t a child, of course. He was already a grown man—but it was said he’d been dragged up in total poverty in some slum, and could barely read or write. There was some mystery about the mother, apparently. It seems she was some little peasant girl Constantis had seduced.
‘They fought, of course. They tried to prove he wasn’t Constantis’s son at all, insisted on blood tests, but they were inconclusive, so then they tried to overturn the will in the courts, saying this Alex had exerted undue influence on the old man while he was ill. It was quite a cause célèbre. But they lost—and he took everything.’
And now, Julia thought, rage rising inside her, now he’s trying to take Ambermere from me. But he won’t. Not someone like that.
‘An uncouth barbarian,’ Paul Constantis had called him, she remembered. Well he wasn’t going to lay his vandal’s hands on her home, if she could prevent it!
She got to her feet, ‘I’m going down to talk to Daddy,’ she said, trying to keep her voice level. ‘There must be something we can do. And surely this Constantis creature can’t be the only prospective buyer we can find?’
‘Apparently he’s made an excellent offer,’ her mother returned. ‘He does a great deal of business over here, and wants a permanent residence where