understand other than that my grandson and your wife have been having an affair under your nose? Is blue blood thinner than red? Do you wish me to understand that persons of breeding do not have affairs? Come, Lord Fitton Legh, let’s be plain with one another. You wish to see my grandson punished.’
‘Punished? I shall see to it that he is ruined. You can make up your mind to that. You won’t be foisting him off on the county as a prospective parliamentary candidate now, Mrs Pickford. When people learn of the way he has insulted my wife— Oh, you may look at me like that, but Cassandra is prepared to swear on the Bible that the crime was all his. My wife had confided to her how upset she was about your grandson’s ungentlemanly manner towards her, and naturally when Cassandra heard my wife cry out she hurried to her aid, only to discover your grandson on the point of assaulting her.’
‘Shocking indeed, and I dare say a total pack of lies. Whilst it is none of my business I would caution you against making your story public, Lord Fitton Legh. There are always those who believe that there is no smoke without a fire and, after all, Lady Fitton Legh is a very beautiful and high-spirited young woman married to a much older husband.’
‘Why, you … I’ll ruin him, I tell you. He won’t be able to show his face in Cheshire for the rest of his life.’
‘I understand your feelings. Greg has behaved badly. I am quite prepared to punish him for that by banishing him from Cheshire – and indeed from England – for a time. However, I am not prepared to stand by and see him ruined.’
‘You can’t prevent it.’
‘Such a pity that you should have to face this additional worry. I hear that your father-in-law has lost a very great deal of money on Wall Street recently.’
Blanche paused and looked down at her hands, as though more intent on studying them than continuing their discussion, before lifting her gaze to Lord Fitton Legh’s face and continuing almost gently, ‘You yourself are currently rather, shall we say, overextended – so much so, in fact, that you have had to mortgage Fitton Hall.’
‘You can’t possibly know that.’
‘Oh, but you see I do. You know, it is always rather foolish, I think, to let young people have their head without checking them, especially a certain type of young person. I am thinking of poor Cassandra here. One does not like to say too much, of course, but there has been talk about her preference for her own sex. I dare say there will be those who will wonder about the true provenance of her story with regard to my grandson. So sordid and unpleasant. But alas, it is too late now to remedy the situation. However, I’m sure that, two older and wiser heads together, between us you and I can come up with something more balanced and closer to the truth. A young man, foolish and impressionable, falls in love with a devoted and beautiful young wife. A regrettable situation but understandable. Of course, neither of them has any intention of giving way to their feelings. They are, after all, very honourable. Sadly, though, events conspire to throw them into one another’s company, a foolish moment of weakness on the part of the young man, allied to loneliness on the part of the devoted wife, lead to an embrace, which is instantly regretted by both parties. Unfortunately, though, this embrace was witnessed by an overexcitable young woman who has yet to learn the ways of the world.
‘Those with wiser heads decide that the young man should be sent away in order to learn the error of his ways; the devoted wife remains exactly that, of course. The young man – naturally and honourably – says nothing of the fact that the lonely wife invited him into the privacy of her private quarters and without a chaperone, knowing that her husband was absent. He, however, did admit this folly on her part to, shall we say, his family. But why torment the poor girl with the threat of even more shame than she must already bear? She has learned her lesson, we must suppose.’
‘That’s blackmail.’
‘No, Lord Fitton Legh,’ Blanche corrected him coldly. ‘It’s self-preservation. I understand that your pride has suffered a severe blow, but I am sure that the application of a comfortable sum of money – enough, shall we say, to pay off your creditors and enable you to keep Fitton Hall – will aid its speedy recovery.’
Blanche waited for half an hour after Lord Fitton Legh had left before removing the photograph frame she always kept in the top drawer of her desk. A young man looked back at her from his photograph. Her son. Greg’s father.
‘You should have lived,’ she told him, her throat dry, like her eyes. ‘If you had lived none of this would have happened.’
When she had replaced the photograph in her desk drawer she rang for Wilson, telling him, ‘When Master Greg comes in, tell him that I wish to see him.’
God, but it felt good to be finally free of Caroline. Three whole days had passed now without her making any attempt to contact him. Greg felt positively light-headed with relief. In fact, he felt so good he wanted to celebrate. With Maisie, he decided with a grin, as he climbed out of his Bugatti and hurried into Denham, too impatient to wait for the butler to take his cap and his coat, and hurling first his cap and then his coat in the direction of the coat-stand with a neat overarm action, and a cheery ‘Howzat?’
His coat missed, but his cap landed neatly on one of the hooks.
‘Good catch, eh, what?’ He congratulated himself as Wilson bent to retrieve his coat.
‘Mrs Pickford said to tell you the minute you came in that she wants to see you,’ the butler informed him.
‘Does she so? Well, I’d better toddle along and see what she wants then, hadn’t I?’ Greg laughed.
‘Well, Gregory, is there anything you feel you might want to tell me?’
Greg moved his weight from one foot to the other. It was always wise to be cautious when his grandmother called him ‘Gregory’.
‘Not really, Grandmother, unless it’s that I wouldn’t mind nipping off to London for a few days. See how little Amber’s getting on, you know.’
‘Well, I’m delighted to hear of your concern for your cousin, Gregory, delighted but somewhat surprised, since by your own behaviour you have placed your family in a situation that threatens all our reputations.’
Greg’s stomach plunged. He was quick-witted enough to know where the conversation was leading.
‘I refer of course to your affair with Caroline Fitton Legh. Lord Fitton Legh came here to see me earlier.’
Fitton Legh knew? Greg grew pale.
‘Apparently Cassandra urged Caroline to confide in him, having found you both in flagrante, although as I understand it, the flagrante was more on your part than Caroline’s, since according to Cassandra you were assaulting her.’
‘That’s a lie.’
‘And the affair? Is that also a lie?’
Greg didn’t dare say anything.
‘So then, I take it that you were having an affair with Caroline Fitton Legh.’
‘It was nothing, just a bit of fun.’
‘On the contrary, it was far from nothing. It will be impossible now, of course, for you to hope to be selected to replace the sitting MP when he retires; Lord Fitton Legh will see to that. The Fitton Leghs are too well connected for their influence to be ignored, Gregory, and I am disappointed that you didn’t have the intelligence to think of that before becoming involved with her. Lord Fitton Legh has demanded that you leave Cheshire, and in the circumstances I agree with him that that would be a good idea. Were it not for that wretched girl Cassandra being so quick to spread the tale, it might have been possible to mend matters, but unfortunately things have gone too far for that. Now Lord Fitton Legh’s pride demands retribution in the form of your banishment. I have to say that I am most seriously displeased with you, Gregory.’
‘It wasn’t my fault,’ Greg protested. ‘It was Caroline who began it, I swear it, Grandmother, and then when I tried to end it she wouldn’t let