Chapters (73)
- Cover
- Dedication
- PART ONE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- PART TWO
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- PART THREE
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- PART FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- PART FIVE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- Keep Reading …
- About the Author
- Also by Barbara Taylor Bradford
- About the Publisher
She shook her head. ‘I know what Mother wrote. She gave me the copy she had made, so I would know what she had done. She left nothing to chance.’
Robert was taken aback, and stared at her, then said, ‘Obviously, she wanted to make sure nothing went wrong, protected you as best she could. Well, she was always organized. And so was your father.’ He gave her a long, intense look, and asked, ‘What are your plans?’
‘I don’t really know,’ Moira admitted, speaking the truth.
He said, ‘Well, your life can change now. You are safe and we have the secret to your inheritance in our hands. Thank goodness Lawrence never found it.’
Moira’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much, Cousin Robert. I am so grateful to you for guiding me, which is what Mother wanted. I’ve been so worried.’
‘I can’t leave Bolton Manor this coming week. I have builders arriving to start working here. However, we could go up to town on Saturday, and visit your mother’s bank on Monday. You will stay at my London home, won’t you?’ Robert asked.
‘Thank you, I will.’ Moira wiped her eyes with a small folded handkerchief. ‘About my plans, I think that perhaps now is the time to leave Mrs Wilson’s employment, to become myself, to become who I really am.’ She sat up a little. ‘I feel very safe now I am with you.’
FORTY-NINE
Blackie always told the truth.
Dissimulation was not in his nature, and he always kept a promise.
At least until recently.
Now, on this cold Saturday in early February 1904, he pondered the fact that he hadn’t been entirely truthful with Laura. He had hidden a secret from her, and it was beginning to bother him.
The two of them were sitting in front of her fire, drinking tea and munching on ginger biscuits. Laura had lit a couple of lamps, and the kitchen had a cosy feeling, as the sky outside grew darker, and dusk descended even though it was only late afternoon.
Laura cut into his thoughts when she said, ‘I like this time of day. The gloaming, my grandmother used to call it, but most people think of it as twilight.’
‘I’ve never heard that word before – the gloaming,’ Blackie murmured, gazing at her, his affection reflected in his black eyes.
‘I think it might be Scottish,’ Laura replied. ‘Anyway, whatever it’s called I like this hour.’ She cleared her throat and, changing the subject, she said, ‘You’ve worked so hard on your drawings of the rooms today, have you nearly finished?’