Barbara Bradford - The Cavendon Luck

‘And she has great taste. In other guests. There’ll be a lovely group of delectable men and women staying for the long weekend.’

‘I see,’ Pauline murmured, realizing what he was getting at. After a brief pause, she asked, ‘How’s your Italian lover?’

Sheldon grinned at her. ‘He’s run his course. I’ve sent him back to Italy. I’m fancy-free, my darling, just like you.’

‘Am I fancy-free?’ Pauline raised a brow quizzically.

‘Of course. Harry has to go now, Pauline. It’s been too long, this affair, and it’s becoming serious. Remember, we have a deal, you’ll always be married to me, and I’ll safeguard your money, and you can have as many men as you want. Just think, Tiger is bound to have someone delicious lined up for you.’

Swallowing back incipient tears, Pauline said, ‘When is this party in Versailles? And are we going to Paris first?’

‘We’re leaving Harrogate on Sunday. We’ll go back to London for a few days. Paris next weekend, then on to Versailles.’

‘Good heavens, Sheldon, I can’t leave on Sunday. You’re only giving me tomorrow to pack!’

‘All you need is your jewellery and a few clothes. Mrs Heath will send on everything else. It doesn’t matter, really, because I intend to take you shopping to Chanel and Schiaparelli. I also have in mind a few new pieces of jewellery from Cartier as well.’

She nodded, forced a smile. ‘What great ideas you have, Sheldon,’ Pauline remarked, understanding that he was taking her away from Harrogate before she could see Harry again. Today was the end of their affair. Sheldon had just made sure of that.

As she sat there, listening to him talking about their Paris trip, she suddenly heard another voice at the back of her head. It was her late father, Allan Mallard, explaining that he never did anything without a lawyer at his side. A bevy of lawyers, if needs be. He had said that so many times. Warning her, she supposed.

I need a lawyer, maybe a bevy of lawyers, she thought. High-powered, Manhattan lawyers, with clout. They will help me to take back control of my life. My inheritance. A divorce from Sheldon. Then I can go to Harry. We can be married. The mere idea of this made her smile.

Sheldon, as usual scrutinizing her intently, said, ‘You look happy all of a sudden, Pauline. Why the smile?’

‘I was just thinking about the future …’ She let the sentence go unfinished, leaning back against the cushions.

‘Ah yes. Our trip to Versailles will be part of that. Tiger has promised us lots of fun.’

Pauline nodded, her mind racing, making plans to go to New York. She would not allow Sheldon to thwart her. He was about to get the shock of his life. Yet another happy smile spread across her face as she thought of Harry Swann and their future together.

Harry had left Harrogate behind and was driving north, heading for Cavendon, filled with relief that Pauline had revealed why she had acted so oddly this afternoon.

He chuckled to himself. How well she knew him after only a few months. If she had told him when he had arrived this afternoon that her husband was on his way back to Yorkshire, he would have left immediately. She had not wanted to forgo their tryst and so had kept it from him.

Pauline Mallard . What a unique woman she was. Stunningly beautiful, with her luxuriant dark auburn hair, pure white skin and amber-coloured eyes. She had a flair for clothes, and the money to buy the best, and consequently everyone stared at her wherever she went. She caused quite a stir. Women envied her looks; men undoubtedly lusted after her.

He loved her, was devoted to her, and if she finally agreed to divorce Sheldon Faircross, he would marry her at once. Not only were they well matched sexually, he enjoyed her company, found her extremely intelligent. Also, she was knowledgeable about so many things. She was a wonderful companion. And she made him laugh with her quirky sense of humour.

As he drove on he thought of a conversation he had had with his mother recently. To his surprise he had found himself confessing that he wanted to get married because he wanted children. Not one, or two, but lots.

How he envied Miles and Cecily with their little brood, and Daphne and Hugo with their five marvellous offspring.

That’s what life was all about, wasn’t it? Marrying a special woman and creating a wonderful family; a family to love and protect and cherish.

Harry winced as he remembered his mother’s comment after he had confided his wish for children. She had told him in a cold voice that his current lady-love was far too old for child-bearing; she had added that his secret love affair was about to go public.

When he had tried to explain his feelings for Pauline, his mother had shushed him up and terminated their conversation.

But he was well aware why Cecily wanted to talk to him. She was going to chastise him and tell him to end his relationship with a woman who was married. His sister disapproved, and there was no doubt his mother had egged Cecily on to have a confrontation with him.

Pauline must leave her husband, that’s the only way to go, Harry decided, as he turned off the main road and on to Cavendon land.

And as always when he came back here, even after only a few hours, he felt a rush of happiness, contentment and a sense of belonging. This land was home … this land he tended and protected with love in his heart. This was where he belonged.

Harry never saw the girl on the bicycle who was racing down the lane on the left side of Cavendon Road, heading for Little Skell village. He was only aware he had hit her when he heard the crunching sound, a high-pitched scream, saw a pair of bare legs in the air, and then felt a thud.

Pulling on the brake at once, Harry jumped out of the car filled with alarm. He saw the bent front wheel of the bicycle on the ground, but there was no sign of the girl. He looked to his left, then his right, and was baffled.

A moment later, a girl’s voice cried, ‘I’m here in the ditch. Can you help me please?’ He ran across the road and up on to the grass verge, as a mop of curly red hair appeared on the edge of the ditch. The girl was pulling herself up, holding on to tufts of grass and weeds.

Thank God she’s not dead, Harry thought. He knelt down on the grass, offered his outstretched hands. She took hold of one of them, and then the other. He pulled her up, and a moment later she was crouching next to him, panting heavily.

Harry looked at her, his eyes scanning her swiftly. ‘Are you injured? Does anything hurt?’ he asked worriedly, concerned about her.

‘I don’t think anything is broken,’ she answered frowning. ‘I do feel a bit shaken up, though.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ he answered. ‘I’m so sorry I hit you. I didn’t see you coming down the side lane, I’m afraid. Perhaps I ought to drive you to the hospital in Harrogate and have you checked for injuries.’

The girl shook her head vehemently. ‘No, no, I’m perfectly all right, but thank you.’

Harry said, somewhat insistently, ‘I do think you should see a doctor. You could have internal injuries. Yes, I’d better get you to a doctor.’

The girl burst out laughing, and shook her head again. ‘I’d know if something was damaged. Honestly I would. My brothers say I’m a tough bit of stuff.’ She half smiled, and went on, ‘ I must apologize. I was riding my bike far too fast. So sorry about that.’

Harry nodded, and said, ‘If you’re certain you’re all right, I won’t insist on a trip to the hospital.’

‘ I am sure .’ The girl straightened her colourful floral frock, pulled up her white socks, then brushed her hands over the cotton frock. ‘Not even the dress is damaged,’ she announced, her eyes twinkling. Thrusting out her right hand, she said, ‘Thank you for hauling me out of the ditch. I’m Phoebe Bellamy, by the way.’