“No, no,” he screamed as he ran out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, where he saw the envelope. It was propped up against a small red leather box and addressed to Sebastian. He tore it open and pulled out a letter that was written in her strong, bold hand.

Dearest Seb,

This is the most difficult letter I’ve ever had to write in my life, because you were my life. But I fear the man who came to Agnew’s Gallery willing to spend every penny he possessed to buy one of his sister’s drawings is not the same man I had breakfast with this morning.

The man who was so proud to work alongside Cedric Hardcastle and despised everything Adrian Sloane stood for is not the same man who now feels he has no obligation to Mr. Swann, the one person who made it possible for him to receive such a handsome bonus. Have you forgotten Mr. Swann’s words, “If Harry Clifton is your father, that’s good enough for me?”

If only Cedric were alive today, none of this would have happened, because you know he would have made sure you kept your side of the bargain and if you hadn’t he would have kept it for you.

I have no doubt that your career will continue to go from strength to strength, and that you will be an outstanding success at everything you do. But that’s not the kind of success I want to be a part of.

I fell in love with the son of Harry and Emma Clifton, the brother of Jessica Clifton, which is one of the many reasons I wanted to be the wife of Sebastian Clifton. But that man no longer exists. Despite everything, I will treasure our short time together for the rest of my life.

Samantha

Sebastian fell to his knees, the words of Sam’s father ringing in his ears. “Samantha sets standards, like your mother, that the rest of us normal mortals find hard to live with, unless, like your father, they’re guided by the same moral compass.”

II. Lady Virginia Fenwick 1966

LADY VIRGINIA FENWICK

1966

Chapter 15

15

“I’LL SEE IF HER LADYSHIP is at home,” said the butler.

What a ridiculous remark, thought Lady Virginia. Morton knows only too well that I’m at home. What he actually means is, I’ll find out if her ladyship wants to talk to you.

“Who is it, Morton?” she asked as the butler entered the room.

“Mrs. Priscilla Bingham, my lady.”

“Of course I’m at home to Mrs. Bingham,” said Virginia, picking up the phone by her side. “Priscilla, darling.”

“Virginia, darling.”

“It’s been so long.”

“Far too long, and I’ve so much to tell you.”