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Chapters (71)
  1. Copyright Notice
  2. Dedication
  3. Part One
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Part Two
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-One
  26. Twenty-Two
  27. Twenty-Three
  28. Twenty-Four
  29. Twenty-Five
  30. Twenty-Six
  31. Twenty-Seven
  32. Twenty-Eight
  33. Twenty-Nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-One
  36. Thirty-Two
  37. Part Three
  38. Thirty-Three
  39. Thirty-Four
  40. Thirty-Five
  41. Thirty-Six
  42. Thirty-Seven
  43. Thirty-Eight
  44. Thirty-Nine
  45. Forty
  46. Forty-One
  47. Forty-Two
  48. Forty-Three
  49. Forty-Four
  50. Part Four
  51. Forty-Five
  52. Forty-Six
  53. Forty-Seven
  54. Forty-Eight
  55. Forty-Nine
  56. Fifty
  57. Fifty-One
  58. Fifty-Two
  59. Fifty-Three
  60. Part Five
  61. Fifty-Four
  62. Fifty-Five
  63. Fifty-Six
  64. Fifty-Seven
  65. Fifty-Eight
  66. Fifty-Nine
  67. Sixty
  68. Sixty-One
  69. Books by Barbara Taylor Bradford
  70. About the Author
  71. Newsletter Sign-up

Adrian shook his head. “I’m not worried about you. You are going to be just fine. Actually, I was thinking about going to the cemetery next week. Would you come with me? I do think I’ll need your company. At least on the journey. I’m all right to go to Annabel’s grave alone, though.”

“I’d be glad to accompany you,” Robert answered. “It would be a sad and lonely trip if you were by yourself. And I will send a note to Harry Peterson, ask him if I can drop by his house in Aldington. He’s just come back from Paris, where he bought some paintings. Impressionists.”

“Did he really! My God, he must have quite a collection by now,” Adrian said, sounding impressed.

“One of the best in the world, I suspect,” Robert replied, glad he had averted the conversation away from the cemetery and Annabel. Adrian was convinced her husband had hurt her in some way, caused the heart attack, which Robert truly doubted.

After the butler served the jam roll and custard and left, Adrian said, “This is perfection, Robert.” He grinned and continued, “You’re definitely after something, spoiling me like this.”

Although Robert wasn’t looking for a favor, he suddenly thought of one. “Can I bring Vanessa down to Fraser Hall tomorrow, to spend a day in the country?”

“It would be my pleasure! You see, I was right! You do want something in return for the comfort food. And you can stay the night, the whole of Saturday and Sunday too.”

Robert merely smiled and began to eat the dessert.

Forty-Three

Robert Lassiter and his old friend Harry Peterson greeted each other with warmth, embracing and smiling. They were happy to meet again after Harry’s long sojourn in Kent and Robert’s in Ireland. It had been some months.

Taking hold of Robert’s arm, Harry led him down the long hall of Avery Court, his pure Tudor house built when Elizabeth I was on the throne. It had always entranced Robert, who favored Elizabethan architecture.

Harry said, “I was so excited when I received your letter, because I was just about to write to you.”

“Really!” Robert glanced at him as they entered a small, rather cozy parlor in the middle of the hall. “Why were you going to write to me?” His curiosity was apparent.

“I’ve had a little windfall. No, I shouldn’t call it that because it’s quite a large one, actually. My bachelor uncle, Thomas Peterson, recently died. I was his sole heir. I’ve inherited everything.”

“Sorry to hear about your uncle. So he left you property, I suspect, if you were going to contact me?”

“He did, Robert. Quite a lot of commercial property in Croydon, shops, in fact, two theaters in the West End and a very large house in Hampstead with a lot of acreage attached.”

“And do you wish to sell it all?”