of love, like that of an adoring sister. And in her lovely face, Alexis saw Sebastian and felt he was with them, which calmed her. Claudia had been the person who had introduced them and she shared in Alexis’s grief for the dynamic man who had died too young.
‘So Reggie’s coming tomorrow afternoon, is that it?’ Alexis asked, pouring more tea in Lady Jane’s cup.
‘That is correct, my dear. He does apologize, most profusely. However, he must see this American fellow, who owns the largest newspaper in New York City. It’s important to Reggie. You know how men are when it comes to business.’
‘I do, yes. And how are your girls? I suppose they must be in Italy by now? Claudia is arriving tomorrow, by the way.’
‘That’s nice. I haven’t seen her for ages. Yes, Jasmine and Lilah are very much enjoying Florence and its treasures. My sister was so keen to take them once the Season finished.’ There was a pause while Lady Jane took a sip of her tea, then asked in a gentle voice, ‘And how is your father? Is he feeling better?’
There was a moment of silence before Alexis answered. ‘Yes, he is. I think he has come to grips with his sorrow about Uncle Joshua dying. And shaken off that fatigue that brought him low. Although he’s still somewhat angry about that awful betrayal by his cousin. However, my father is a practical man and accepts that life can be difficult.’
‘Might we be seeing you in London soon?’ Jane murmured, eyeing her friend carefully. ‘Your father misses you, darling.’
Alexis laughed, shook her head. ‘He’s fine, and he doesn’t miss me at all. He has Jimmy boy to keep him company.’
Staring at her, puzzlement apparent in her eyes, Lady Jane asked, ‘Who on earth is this Jimmy boy … and why do you call him that?’
‘Because that’s the way I think of him. He’s a poor boy my father has always admired … he worked on his father’s stalls at the Malvern Market in Camden, but has always had dreams of … glory, shall we say? Matthew, his father, has forever pushed Jimmy at my father, often suggested that Papa might one day give him a job in the Malvern Company. And naturally my father did just that … during the time I was in Vienna, actually.’
Taken aback, Lady Jane gaped at her, speechless for a moment. Finally she said softly, ‘Doesn’t it trouble you that this Jimmy fellow is there in London, working alongside your father, and you, the heir, are still out here in the depths of Kent?’ Jane had wanted to say doing nothing, but she did not dare.
‘Not really. I think Jimmy boy is a real opportunist, and in a hurry to rush up the ladder. But he’ll only get so far. After all, Jane, it is my company.’
Lady Jane wanted to say: But would she be able to run it, since she lacked experience? But Jane put that question to one side for later. Instead she asked in a neutral voice, ‘So, tell me about Jimmy boy, Alexis. I’m curious that your father is so taken with him. And what’s his real name?’
‘James Falconer, and I admit he’s talented, even clever. I met him when I went to Paris to help my father deal with the wine problem. But I find him bossy and arrogant. And very conceited.’
‘Conceited? So he must be a handsome chap … is he, Alexis?’ Lady Jane probed.
‘Not particularly,’ Alexis said, and changed the subject abruptly.
Lady Jane stood in the sitting room of her suite, staring out of the window. The view of the gardens was extraordinary, although she was not really seeing it. Her mind was caught up in the conversation she had just had with Alexis over afternoon tea.
The situation between Alexis and her father troubled her, and had done for a long time. Until today she had been reluctant to say too much. By nature she was discreet, diplomatic, and only ever wanted to make her friend, all of her friends, in fact, feel happy. She did not wish to present their problems to them on a plate, so to speak, and dissect them.
Jane, born Cadwalander, was a handsome rather than beautiful woman, who dressed strikingly and stylishly to her advantage. Now in her thirties, she was the eldest daughter of the most renowned and brilliant barrister in England’s Courts of Justice, Louis Cadwalander, long considered a great star of the courtroom. When Louis’s wife, Estelle, died unexpectedly and very suddenly, it was to their eldest child he turned. This was his fourteen-year-old daughter, Jane. Very simply, he told her to take charge of the household and run it the way her mother had. Jane did so without flinching. She became the chatelaine, managed the butler, the housekeeper, the maids and the gardeners, and brought up her younger siblings. The children did as they were told and called her The General, at first behind her back and then to her face. And she didn’t mind that, and laughed; she thought of it as a compliment.
When Reggie met her, it was love at first sight for them both, and soon he was calling her The General, too, in the most admiring way. He thought she was quite a marvel. And to him she still was. Now she was his private general, her siblings having grown up, but her own twin sons – their little miracles – were now her charges.
Moving away from the window, Jane settled in an armchair in front of the fire. Her thoughts focused on Alexis Malvern. Deep down inside, Jane was upset with Alexis. She believed it was time she pulled herself together and went back to London, worked alongside her father, learning to run the Malvern business. After all, business in general was now undergoing changes every day; she knew that from Reggie. He had told her the world was changing at a rapid pace.
She sat up straighter in the chair. Falconer! Her husband employed a man called George Falconer on The Chronicle. That’s why she knew the name, which was relatively uncommon. Could they be related? Possibly.
Alexis had spoken in the most derogatory way about James Falconer, calling him Jimmy lad, implying he was out for himself, an opportunist and untrustworthy.
Yet she had met George Falconer a couple of times at events at the newspaper and had found him to be a pleasant, rather attractive man. He was the assistant to H. J. Browning, the royal correspondent. Reggie favoured him and often gave him special pieces to write for the editorial page. George had been extremely polite, with excellent manners, she recalled.
Pushing aside thoughts of the Falconers, Jane made herself more comfortable in the chair and brought her attention back to Alexis and her overall problems. Jane was quite sure that her friend preferred to be at Goldenhurst because it was Sebastian’s own creation. He had redesigned the old farmhouse, even built parts of it himself, and so she felt comfortable here.
And comforted, Jane added under her breath. She feels his presence here. It struck Jane at this precise moment that she herself sometimes felt Sebastian’s presence at Goldenhurst. But this is no life for her. She has to move on … get back to work … learn enough to take charge of the company … she will have to do that one day. And who knows when?
We don’t know anything. Jane understood that only too well. We are in control of our own lives to a certain extent, but in the final analysis life is responsible for what happens to us, she thought, good or bad. And Henry Malvern has been ailing, according to Reggie. Men gossiped just like women; news travelled fast between the many private men’s clubs in London. Henry belonged to Savile’s, as did Reggie. Chitchat about the members prattled around.
If only I knew where to begin. That thought was stuck in her head. Jane had tried in the past year to encourage Alexis to spend more time in London, gently reminding her that her father was getting on in years and needed her. Alexis seemed to understand, would nod, and look sorrowful. She had gone to her father’s aid earlier in the year and made a trip to France – but on her return had abruptly come back to Goldenhurst and refused to change her ways.
‘It’s like she’s drugged,’ Jane muttered to herself. ‘I’ve got to find a way to … shock her into coming to her senses …’
The door was flung open, interrupting her thoughts, and Jane jumped up. Her face was radiant as she ran across the room and flung herself at her husband standing in the doorway.