Sara Craven - The Marriage Deal

Mentally, she gave herself a little impatient shake. The Manor was no longer any concern of hers. The loss of Landons was.

She said crisply, ‘Don’t look so concerned, Henry. I got over Jago a long time ago. Let’s get back to the main priority. How did you know Marshalls were sniffing round again?’

‘Movement of shares. And then Clive Farnsworth advised me privately that he was being pressed to sell his holding, and warned me that a majority of the board would be in favour of accepting Marshalls’ offer.’

‘It’s unbelievable!’ Ashley made a small sound of disgust. ‘Why, everyone knows what my father thought of them. He said they were sharks—jerrybuilders creating modern slums.’

‘He was right,’ Henry said bitterly. ‘Which is why they want Landons, of course, to confer a cloak of respectability on their operations. It’s the company name they want as well as its assets. But their real ace in the hole is their new managing director, a real dynamo by the sound of him. I gather he reminds some of the older board members of Silas when he was young. That’s the enticement—the kind of strong male leadership they’re used to.’

‘My God, what an attitude!’ Ashley expelled her breath in a small harsh sigh. ‘It belongs in the Ark.’

‘I can’t deny that, but we can’t dismiss it either.’ His gaze met hers squarely. ‘We have a real problem here, Ashley. The board aren’t just a set of dyed-in-the-wool male chauvinists. They’re anxious about our recent performance.’

He broke off as the door opened and Jean Hurst came in with a tray of coffee.

It was what she needed after all, Ashley discovered wryly, as she accepted a cup of the dark, fragrant brew, and sipped it gratefully.

When they were alone again, she said, ‘Was it deliberate? Did Marshalls wait for me to go to Barbados before they made their move?’

Henry looked slightly taken aback. ‘It’s possible. They must know that loyalty to Silas’ memory still exerts quite a hold.’

‘So—we fight.’ She lifted her chin. ‘What am I up against, if it came to a straight boardroom battle?’

‘I think you’d just lose,’ he admitted, and she winced.

‘I can’t bear it! To see everything Grandfather and Silas worked for just—handed over to a cowboy outfit like Marshalls. My God, I’d do anything—anything, to stop it happening.’

‘I hope you’re not contemplating a sex-change,’ Henry made a heavy-handed attempt at humour.

Ashley grimaced. ‘Coupled with an operation to make me ten years older? Don’t tell me that isn’t part of the problem.’

‘You’re just not what they’re used to,’ Henry said tiredly. ‘To most of their generation, women are wives or secretaries, cast in the mould from birth.’ He paused. ‘And I’m afraid many of them see your—repudiation of your engagement to Jago Marrick as a sign of—feminine instability. They worry that it might break out again some time.’

‘Oh, no,’ she said with soft bitterness. ‘My brush with Jago was a one-off thing—never, I pray, to be repeated.’ She put her cup down on the desk. ‘When I broke off my engagement, I don’t think Silas ever really understood, or forgave me. He thought the end justified the means, and that I was just making a silly fuss about some trivial disagreement. He didn’t know …’ She stopped.

‘Didn’t know what?’ Henry prompted sympathetically.

She was silent for a moment, then, ‘Didn’t know how totally unsuited Jago and I were,’ she said stiltedly. She smiled faintly as she got to her feet. ‘I’m going home now, Henry. I need to think. But thanks for the timely message. I’d have hated to have been voted out of existence in my absence.’

‘That’s what I thought,’ he said unhappily. ‘They’re pressing for an emergency board meeting next Thursday. Between now and then I’ll see what I can do in the way of persuasion or pressure to change a few minds to our way of thinking.’ He sighed. ‘But it’s going to be an uphill struggle.’

‘We’ll win,’ she said. ‘We have to.’

Her words evinced a confidence she didn’t feel. Her mood as she drove to her flat was one of dejection.

She’d never envisaged becoming chairman of Landons, but that didn’t mean she was prepared to see the company taken away from her.

Oh, Silas, she thought fiercely, why didn’t you prepare me better?

Perhaps he would have done, if he’d lived to the ripe old age his bounding energy had seemed to promise. If he hadn’t collapsed with a heart attack while exploring a possible site for development, and died in intensive care an hour later, before Ashley could even get to his bedside. Her first act on assuming control of the company had been to complete the deal for the land. Nothing spectacular, but surely a sign to the rest of the world that it was business as usual.

Her flat occupied the top floor of a purpose-built block, which Landons had erected some ten years previously, and was the nearest to a real home she had ever had.

Her mother had, unbelievably, died giving her birth, and Silas, dazed by grief, had instantly sold the house they had lived in together. Ashley’s earliest memories were of a changing landscape of hotel suites, and a shifting population of nannies. Silas travelled the country, and she, perforce, travelled with him until she was old enough to be despatched to boarding school.

She had understood quite early in their relationship that she seemed to make her father uncomfortable, and had assumed it was because of some painful physical resemblance to her mother. Gradually she came to realise that, whether he was aware of it or not, Silas resented the fact that his only child was not the boy he had planned on. Yet he had never made any attempt to alter the situation by marrying again, although he had enjoyed various discreet liaisons over the years, seeming perfectly content with his nomadic existence, the only awkwardness occurring when he was obliged to have Ashley with him.

She had spent many dull hours reading, watching television, wandering round strange towns, watching other people’s lives from a distance, until at last, when she was sixteen, she had rebelled, and insisted on accompanying him on to site. He had been openly reluctant at first, but when he saw she was adamant he had acceded, and slowly a new relationship had been forged between them. He had started by being sceptical about her interest, but he answered her questions with total frankness, and she had learned a great deal simply by being with him.

But he had been by no means preparing her to take over from him. His plans for her future had been very different, as she had suddenly, and painfully, discovered.

In her small elegant bathroom, she stripped and showered slowly, letting the water pour through her hair and down her body. She dried herself without haste, and wrapped in a fresh towel, sarong-style, wandered back to the bedroom and stretched out on her bed.

She felt infinitely weary, but sleep eluded her just the same. There was too much on her mind, she thought, punching the pillow. And if she was honest, the problem about the takeover wasn’t foremost in her thoughts as it should have been.

Jago, it seemed, was back, and possibly planning to stay. She had banked very heavily on never having to see him again, but if he was really going to be around as a permanent feature, she didn’t see how this could be avoided. It wasn’t that large a town. Nor could she leave. This was where Landons had its head office, so she couldn’t run, no matter how much she might want to.

Not that there was any logic in that, she castigated herself scornfully. There was no reason why she and Jago should not meet in a perfectly civilised manner. She’d got over that heartbreaking, desperate, adolescent love for him a long time ago. He couldn’t hurt her again, so what was she afraid of?