he was so disturbed,’ Silas commented.
Her curiosity was piqued, not to say her intelligence—she was suddenly realising that Silas would not have brought her here and begun to tell her what he was telling her were there not some purpose behind it.
‘I don’t want to pry,’ she began, ‘but—’
And was saved from having to pry any further when Silas interrupted to inform her, ‘All this has been a bit of a jolt for me, but I’ve had time since Monday to adjust. By the time I saw you on Tuesday I was beginning to acknowledge what had to be done, and that if the company was not ultimately going to go to the wall that it was down to me to do it.’
‘I’m trying to keep up,’ she commented. Fog? The fog was getting thicker by the minute.
‘I’m telling you this in the strictest confidence, of course.’
‘Of course,’ she answered—whatever ‘this’ was.
‘I’m also telling it very badly. Perhaps I’d better go back to the beginning,’ he decided.
‘It might be a good idea,’ she conceded. If this was the way all job interviews went, she had to confess herself intrigued!
‘To start with, my grandfather had a simply wonderful marriage.’
‘Ye-es,’ Colly said slowly, with no idea what direction they were heading in now.
‘Sadly, my grandmother died six months ago.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she murmured sensitively.
‘As you can imagine, my grandfather was devastated. But he at last seems to be coming to terms with his grief. Naturally we’ve all rallied round to try and help him at this dreadful time. My parents and my aunt Daphne—my grandfather’s daughter—particularly. In actual fact, my parents spent the weekend with him at his home in Dorset only last weekend.’ He paused, then added, ‘Which is why my father rang me the moment he got home on Sunday. I wasn’t in. He left a message saying it was of some importance that we meet without delay. I should explain—’ Silas broke off what he was saying to note ‘—that my father does not use such language unless something of very great import is going down.’
Colly’s brain was racing. ‘It was to do with Livingstone Developments having some kind of sword dangling over its head?’ was the best she could come up with.
‘Got it in one,’ Silas approved. ‘My father isn’t one to panic, as I mentioned, but he knew something serious was afoot when my grandfather told him that he wanted to talk privately to him in his study. My father came out from the study shaken to the core, still taking in what my grandfather had told him.’
Colly was desperately trying to think what any of this could have to do with her and this vacancy that had been created.
‘Your grandfather needs a housekeeper?’ She took a disappointed guess. It would be a job, and with accommodation thrown in. But did she really want to be a housekeeper for some elderly gentleman?
‘He already has a housekeeper,’ Silas informed her.
She was lost again. ‘Sorry. I’ll keep quiet until you’ve finished. Er—you haven’t finished yet?’
‘I’m getting there. The thing is that since my parents and aunt can’t be with Grandfather all the time he spends many hours alone reliving the past. And at this present time, and with the loss of my grandmother so recent, he spends a lot of time thinking of her and their long years of very happy marriage. Which,’ Silas said, ‘brings us up to Sunday, when, in his study, my grandfather spoke to my father in terms of altering his will. Instead of my cousin Kit and I inheriting his considerable holding of shares in the firm between us—as I’ve always been lead to believe will happen—he intends to leave the whole basket-load of shares to Kit—if I don’t buck my ideas up and marry.’
Colly blinked—and didn’t know which question to ask first. ‘You’re not married?’ was the first one to pop out.
‘Never have been.’
‘But your cousin—Kit—is married?’
‘Has been this last ten years.’
‘You’re not engaged or living with anyone?’ she questioned, more or less in the same way he had asked her on Tuesday.
He shook his head. ‘No, nor likely to be.’
‘Nor do you want to marry?’
‘Definitely not. And, much though I’m fond of the old chap, I resent him, just because he has this sublime respect for the institution of marriage, attempting to force me to take a wife.’
‘But unless you do you stand to be disinherited,’ she reasoned. ‘Join the club.’
‘It’s not going to happen.’
‘Your father thinks he’ll change his mind?’
‘Very doubtful. My father’s anxiety stems from the certainty that it will happen, and that all that he and I have worked for over the years will be as nothing if Kit gets a controlling interest in the firm. Which, with those shares, he most definitely will.’
‘He’s—er—not up to the job?’
‘Don’t get me wrong. Kit and I had a lot to do with each other during our growing years. I’m fond of him, despite his faults. But, as well as being no powerhouse when it comes to work—and that’s being kind—he is far too easily swayed by others. Although he’s already parted with some of the shares his mother gave him, he, like me, already has enough shares to guarantee him a seat on the board. But while we have a duty to our shareholders we also have a duty to our workforce. And I’m afraid Kit feels a duty for neither. It’s a foregone conclusion that the ship will sink if he has any hand in guiding it.’
Colly did not know much about big business, but if Silas Livingstone thought it was so, she was quite willing to believe him. ‘So…’ she brought out the best her brain could come up with ‘…either you marry and inherit a sufficient number of shares to deny your cousin control, or you ultimately have to stand by and watch him ruin all that three generations of Livingstones have worked for?’
‘Exactly,’ Silas agreed. ‘And while God forbid that anything untoward happens to my grandfather for years and years yet, I have to face the reality that he’s currently aged eighty-four. Which is why I have determined that when that awful day comes, and he’s no longer with us, I am not left hearing that unless I have been married for a year and a day the shares that should be mine have been inherited by my cousin Kit.’
By then Colly had forgotten entirely that she had only dined with Silas Livingstone to hear about a job he was now offering her. She recalled how wounded she herself had felt at the way her father had left his will. By the look of it, the shares Silas Livingstone had always been led to believe were half his would be willed elsewhere.
On thinking over all he had just said, though, she could only see one way out for him—if he was dead set on keeping the company safe. ‘I’m sorry, Silas,’ she said quietly, ‘but it seems to me that unless you’re prepared to let the company fail you’re going to have to get over your aversion to marriage and take yourself a wife.’
For ageless moments after she had spoken Silas said not a word. Then, drawing a long breath, ‘That is the only conclusion I was able to reach too,’ he said. And then, looking at no one but her, ‘Which,’ he added, ‘is where you come in.’
She stared at him. ‘Me?’ she questioned, startled.
‘You,’ he agreed.
Her brain wasn’t taking this in. ‘No,’ she said on a strangled kind of note as what he might possibly be meaning started to filter through. Then, as common sense swiftly followed, ‘I’m sorry,’ she apologised. ‘For one totally absurd moment I had this weird notion that you were asking me to marry you.’
She