Emma’s Secret (13 page)

C
HAPTER
T
EN

W
inston Harte had always had a good sense of humour. And now, as they were being driven in his car through central London, pushing through early evening traffic towards the Dorchester Hotel, he teased his youngest son about his reputation with women.

‘I couldn’t believe my ears when you said you were free this evening, Gideon. A most unusual occurrence for you, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Not really, Dad. I’m often alone in the evening, you know. I’m not always gadding around the West End with a beautiful woman on my arm.’

‘That’s not what
I
hear, my boy. Everyone knows how you can so easily charm the ladies into your arms…I’m told it’s like whistling the birds out of the trees for you. Come on, admit it, Gid.’ His father chuckled. ‘You’ve gained a reputation for being quite the ladykiller.’

Gideon had the good grace to laugh. ‘It’s an exaggeration, believe me. Toby had plenty of girls before he got married, and you know it, Dad.’

‘Bah! Don’t be daft! Now it’s you who’s exaggerating. He wasn’t half as popular with women as you are.’ Winston paused for a moment, and suddenly his voice sounded a trifle more serious when he added, ‘Talking of Toby, he’s got a bee in his bonnet about Tessa and Paula. Cornered me about them this afternoon, after the meeting.’

Gideon looked at Winston swiftly, and even though the light in the car was dim he detected a troubled look settling on his father’s face, a tightening of his mouth. ‘Cornered you in what sense?’

‘He wanted me to talk to Paula.’

‘What about?’ As he asked the question, Gideon was almost certain he knew the answer. Unless he was wrong, it was the same old story rearing its ugly head.

Winston answered quietly, ‘About the succession, of course. Who’s going to head up Harte’s when Paula retires.’

Gideon burst out laughing. ‘He’s crazy, Dad! They’re
both
crazy. Paula’s only in her mid-fifties. She’s no more thinking of retiring than you are, or than I am, for that matter. She’s not giving it a thought at the moment, I’m sure. One day she’ll step down, maybe in ten years.’

‘I beg to differ, Gideon, my boy. But only inasmuch as I think Paula will
never
retire. She’ll never relinquish her power. Nor should she. Yes, she’s going to be like Emma…she’ll die with her boots on, at that desk in that store.’ He nodded his head to underscore his point.

‘But I thought Aunt Emma
did
retire. I remember you telling me that she did so when she was eighty, quite unexpectedly. At her birthday party, you said. I remember the phrase you told me she used. You said she charged Paula to “
hold her dream
” that night. I always thought it was a lovely way of saying she was passing on her mantle.’

‘Yes, you’re right. But after Aunt Emma returned from her world tour with Blackie, she was soon back at the store. Maybe not running things exactly, giving Paula her head, but nonetheless she was there. And most especially after Blackie died so unexpectedly. She didn’t have anywhere else to go. And she was so bored at home.’

‘Now I remember…she actually died in the store, didn’t she?’

‘Yes,
and
with her boots on, just the way she wanted. However, getting back to Toby, he thinks Paula’s being unfair, that she ought to set Tessa’s mind at rest. He believes Paula should tell her that she
will
succeed to the throne at Harte’s one day. Whenever that is…
I’ve
certainly no idea.’

‘But she’s not going to succeed!’ Gideon exclaimed, and instantly broke off abruptly, sitting back hard against the seat.

Winston glanced at his son through the corner of his eye, and asked
sotto voce,
‘And how do
you
know this, Gideon? Has Linnet said something? Confided in you?’

‘Course not, Dad. Linnet doesn’t know any more than you or I do. Or Toby and Tessa, for that matter. I’m simply making a guess. It’s my opinion, and mine alone. I know that only Linnet can properly run the stores. Tessa doesn’t have a clue; she’s just not capable of it. For one thing, she’s not employee-friendly, and God knows that’s hellish important when you’re running a huge retailing empire. Anyway, if I can see this with such clarity, then surely Aunt Paula must have the same vision.’ He looked at his father quizzically.

‘You’re prejudiced, wouldn’t you say?’ Winston murmured, his eyes narrowing. He tended to agree with his son, but he wanted to encourage Gideon to reveal more, and said, ‘You’ve always been extremely thick with Linnet, so naturally your instincts are to stand behind her. You see only
her
virtues, no one else’s.’

‘And you have an open mind? Is that what you’re saying?’ Gideon chuckled softly. ‘Oh,
Dad,
come on! You know what Tessa’s really like, you’ve had to deal with her so many times in the past. You used to comment about Linnet being the best of the bunch, except for poor little Patrick. You and Mum said she was the peacemaker, and a dyed-in-the-wool little mother the way she kept Lorne happy and fussed over Patrick. As for Tessa, she seemed out of it most of the time, I thought.’

‘That’s perfectly true. It
was
exactly the way you say. And she
was
odd, but teenage girls can be very, very strange at certain times. Hormones, your mother used to say. And Tessa may have changed…I only see her on family occasions, as you know, but she’s a grown woman, married—’

‘And just as bad as she always was,’ Gideon interrupted.

‘Bad.
What do you mean by that, Gid?’

‘I don’t mean
bad
as in
wicked.
I meant she’s just as difficult as ever. Contrary, bossy, egotistical, and very proud to be a Fairley by descent. I don’t believe she thinks much of us Hartes. She looks down on us.’

‘More fool she. Tessa’s where she is today because she’s a Harte through Paula.’ There was a moment’s silence, and then Winston remarked slowly, ‘So, you think Paula’s going to make Linnet head of the chain, eh?’ He gave his son a hard, very direct stare.

‘One day.
Yes.
Very
much
yes. But only when Paula feels it’s necessary. It won’t be for many, many years. Paula’s too young to retire, and she loves Harte’s, loves her work. It was what Aunt Emma brought her up to do, Linnet says. But then you surely know this better than I do, Dad.’

‘Yes, I do. And you’re absolutely correct. I
shall
have a word with her, though.’

‘Why?’
Gideon asked, sounding a trifle irate. ‘She’ll only tell you it’s none of your business.’

‘No, she won’t. In a sense, it’s very much my business. I run our media companies which are a major portion of the Harte empire, whilst Paula, your mother and Aunt Amanda run their divisions. But we confer on everything.
Always.
Aunt Emma constantly pounded it into us that we had to think of the
whole,
the entire conglomerate, and not just our own separate
divisions.
We’ve always done that. And been very successful, I’m happy to say. So I know that I must alert Paula to these…
rumblings.
They affect all of us in the long run. Of course, I’m not going to advise her, only pass on a bit of information, which she can tuck away, or use as she sees fit. Even immediately, if she wants. You do understand that, Gideon?’

‘Yes, Dad. You know best…’

‘Paula is the head of the Harte family and all of the businesses. Emma trained her for this lifetime job, and she
is
Emma’s great heiress. But Emma told Emily, Amanda and Paula that I was to be second in command…I’ve actually never told you this before, but you really ought to know. Not that I ever expect to be running the family dynasty and its empire. Paula is a young, vital, healthy woman, and she’s going to be around for a long time yet.’

‘I am glad you told me though,’ Gideon answered, now suddenly fully understanding how much real power his father wielded in the family hierarchy. It suddenly struck him how foolish Toby and Tessa were, thinking they could buck the system, challenge the old guard, or do whatever it was they were attempting to do.

Gideon said, in a low voice, ‘Perhaps you should remind Toby that Paula owns fifty-two per cent of our media empire, and is actually just as much in control of his destiny as you are, Dad.’

‘Oh, I don’t think I have to remind him, Gideon,’ Winston murmured, his brows coming together in a frown. ‘He knows that.’

‘I hope he knows he should watch his step,’ Gideon remarked.

When they arrived at the entrance to the Grill Room in the Dorchester, the maître d’ was at the other end of the dining room. They hovered together for a moment, waiting to be shown to a table.

On the way to the hotel, Gideon had decided he wanted to pay for dinner tonight; he realized it would give him immense pleasure to entertain his father, who was so generous with him always, and whom he never got a chance to take out for a meal. He felt around in various pockets, seeking his credit-card wallet.

Preoccupied as he was for a moment, Gideon did not notice that his father had moved closer to the screen that fronted the Grill Room and created a barrier between the room and the entrance. Winston was peering with growing interest into the restaurant through the glass panels of the wooden screen, his eyes widening.

Gideon only became aware that something was wrong when he heard his father curse quietly under his breath, felt the sudden hard pressure of Winston’s hand on his arm.

‘We can’t go in there. Come on,’ Winston muttered. Plucking at Gideon’s sleeve, he guided him out into the hall.

‘Dad, what’s wrong?’ Gideon stared at his father, and was instantly struck by the bony pallor of his face, the fierce, dark gleam in his eyes.

When Winston did not at first respond, Gideon asked again, ‘Dad, whatever is it? You look as if you’ve just seen a ghost.’

‘More like the devil. Jonathan Ainsley, to be exact. He’s dining in the Grill with Sarah Lowther. They’ve always plotted against the family, and their presence together in London doesn’t bode well for any of us. Mark my words.’

‘You and Mother have always talked about the trouble Jonathan Ainsley and Sarah Lowther caused the family, and I know they were kicked out of Harte Enterprises. But I still don’t know exactly
what
it is they did,’ Gideon said, staring at his father.

The two of them were seated at a table near a window overlooking Green Park in the elegant dining room of the Ritz Hotel on Piccadilly. At Gideon’s suggestion they had come here after they had made a hasty retreat from the Dorchester, Winston in particular being hell-bent on putting distance between his two cousins and themselves.

‘Well, it’s a long story–two stories, really. I’ll tell you in a moment, and I’ll make it as concise as possible. But first, let’s order a drink. What would you like, Gideon?’

‘White wine, I think.’

‘And I’ll have a glass of champagne.’

‘Oh that’s a good idea, Dad. I’ll join you, forget about the white wine.’

Winston nodded, beckoned to the waiter, and ordered two glasses of Veuve Clicquot, then settled back in his chair. Gideon thought his father now looked better, but at the Dorchester he had been struck by Winston’s pallor, worried because he appeared to be so upset.

Gideon voiced this when he said, ‘You looked so disturbed at the Dorchester, Dad. I was really alarmed.’

‘I was
angry,
Gid. Individually, those two are dangerous. But even more dangerous when they’re in cahoots together.’ He sighed and shook his head. ‘I knew Jonathan Ainsley was in London, but I certainly had no idea Sarah was here from France.’ He glanced at Gideon, added, ‘Uncle Ronnie warned Paula that Ainsley had come back to live here. He told her a couple of weeks ago.’

‘It was the weekend Julian was staying with us, and Aunt Amanda came up too, the weekend of all that snow. And we went to Pennistone Royal for dinner on Saturday. I thought Aunt Paula seemed rather perturbed during the latter part of the evening.’

‘Julian gave her a message from his grandfather. I think it shook her up a bit. Uncle Ronnie was concerned about Ainsley’s sudden reappearance after all these years, and when Paula went to see him the next day he warned her to be on her guard.’

‘But Julian told me Ainsley can’t actually do anything.’

‘Not as far as the Harte companies are concerned,’ Winston said. ‘But, intrinsically, he’s a troublemaker. And he always was. It’s the nature of the beast, and if he could hurt Paula in some way, any way at all, he would. Actually, it would give him pleasure to upset her applecart. He’s vicious, and he always was, even when he was a child and we were all growing up together.’

Their drinks arrived and, after they had clinked glasses and each taken a sip of champagne, Winston continued: ‘I had a word with Uncle Ronnie, and he told me he’d advised Paula to hire a private investigator to check on Ainsley’s activities. Uncle Ronnie explained that his gut instinct tells him Ainsley is out for blood. Paula’s blood.’

An involuntary shiver ran down Gideon’s spine and he exclaimed, ‘I hope Aunt Paula
is
going to put a private eye on him, Dad.’

‘Well…she’s not at all keen, I must admit. Let’s say she’s ambivalent at best.’

‘What do you think?’

‘I’m in favour of it. Uncle Ronnie’s a wise old bird. And never forget that the most valuable commodity of all is
information.
We all learned this from Aunt Emma, and, as I reminded Paula the other day, forewarned is forearmed, my boy.’

Gideon nodded his understanding, turned to the waiter hovering and took a menu, as did his father. After a few seconds they ordered Colchester oysters to be followed by grilled Dover sole, choosing exactly the same dishes as they had done for years. Father and son had similar tastes in many things, including food and wine, art, music and books. So much so that Emily had dubbed them ‘my two peas in a pod’ years before.