Evan stood looking at him, totally silent, unable to say anything so touched was she.
He said, with a little smile, ‘That’s where I still live when I go up to London. It’s full of memories…of Glynnis…of our years together.’ The tears came again, and he searched for his handkerchief, wiped his eyes. ‘Do forgive a foolish old man, my dear.’
‘There’s nothing to forgive,’ Evan reassured him, and began to laugh. ‘Look at me, I’m crying too, and ruining all my make-up. And it’s Linnet’s wedding in an hour.’
‘I’m very aware of that. I must go and find your father.’
‘Your son, Robin, your son by Glynnis.’
Nodding, he gave her the benefit of a huge smile. ‘We loved each other so much, and we pulled it off, you know. All those years we pulled it off, Evan, and we never hurt anybody.’
I wonder about that, Evan thought, then pushed the thought away.
He handed her the latchkey. ‘It was Glynnis’s. I gave it to her. And now it’s yours, Evan. Take it.’
She did, and then walked with him to the door. ‘I’ll drive over next week with the suitcase of your letters,’ she told him. ‘But I wonder…could I keep some of the photographs? The two of you were so gorgeous when you were young, you looked like movie stars.’
‘Glynnis. Not I,’ he protested.
‘Yes, you too. Anyway, I’ll bring your letters over to Lackland Priory.’
‘No. Glynnis wanted you to have them, and you should.’ Robin stared into her blue-grey eyes, and added, ‘If you wish, I will give you Glynnis’s letters to me. She wrote to me every week from 1950 until her last year.’ He paused, and the look he gave her was odd, even worried, before he added softly, ‘But I think they might be a little…hot, shall we say.’
Evan burst out laughing. ‘I’ll bet! Because some of yours certainly are! Red hot.’ Her eyes were sparkling as she went on, ‘And why not? Yours was quite a love story, incredible really, Robin.’
Now she came into his outstretched arms and he held her close to him, thinking how like his Glynnis she was sometimes. ‘Glynnis was so worried about dying on me, leaving me on my own. We weren’t together all the time, but what we had over all those years was something really quite…magnificent. Magnificent.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The lovely little stone church in the village of Pennistone Royal was ancient, dating back over nine hundred years to the time of the first Norman kings of England.
Its square Norman tower was original, but the glorious stained-glass windows were later, having been put in only two hundred years ago.
For the entire time she had lived at Pennistone Royal, Emma Harte had paid for all of the restoration work the church required, and Paula was now following in her grandmother’s footsteps. In consequence, the church was beautifully kept both inside and out, and was a local treasure.
On this Saturday afternoon, the first day of December, the weather was cold. But there was no wind and the sky was ice-blue and cloudless. The orb of the sun was pale, but it was shining, and the day was pristine, bright with that clarity of light so peculiar to these Northern climes.
Robin alighted from one of the first wedding cars to arrive at the church, and he helped Marietta out, looking extremely smart in a dark-red silk outfit of a long, slender skirt to her ankles and a trim, fitted jacket embroidered with jet beads. Once Owen joined them they walked up to the church.
The entire village had turned out for Linnet’s marriage to Julian, despite the coldness of the day; bundled up in warm clothes, they stood around in groups; hands waved enthusiastically, familiar faces broke into smiles as Robin was instantly recognized.
He had grown up in Pennistone Royal and was very popular. He waved back, smiled, and escorted Marietta and Owen along the church path.
Continuing to glance around, he spotted a number of faces he did not know: men in dark suits with earpieces and small microphones in their lapels. He knew at once they were Jack Figg’s men, his operatives. Security.
As they drew closer to the porch, Robin suddenly noticed Jack hovering on the steps, dressed in a grey top hat and morning suit. He was a guest at the wedding, since he was like a member of the family, but he was head of security again, took his job seriously. Now he was scanning the crowds intently, his eyes everywhere.
Jack’s face broke into smiles when he saw Robin. The two men shook hands warmly, and Jack greeted Marietta and Owen, whom he had met the night before at the dinner given by Paula and Shane.
Robin drew much closer to Jack, and said in a low voice, ‘I see you’ve got good security in place.’
Jack murmured, ‘I’ve got more men here than there are barnacles clinging to the hull of a ship. But Paula wanted it, and I aim to please, old chap.’
‘Jonathan wouldn’t dare attempt anything,’ Robin said, the spectre of his other son rising up. He clamped down on it.
‘I agree, but Paula’s fearful of him, and especially today of all days. It’s better to go overboard,’ Jack explained, ‘than to have too few men on hand. But they’ll be invisible for the most part, especially in church and at the reception later. Don’t worry, nothing’s going to happen,’ he finished in a reassuring voice, and then added, ‘I’ll join you inside shortly.’
Jack Figg stepped away from the porch, moved onto the grass, headed towards the graveyard. As he did so there was a tiny crackle of noise in his earpiece and Chris Light’s voice came in. ‘Jack, there’s a white van coming down the hill from Lackland village. It’s got to be the yobbos we were warned about.’
‘Right, Chris. Move in. Now. Block the road with our cars and bring in the cavalry. Block the other roads leading into Pennistone village. I don’t want any slip-ups. Keep them out of the village and alert the police. If they won’t leave we’ll have them arrested.’
‘You’ve got it, Jack,’ Chris exclaimed.
Standing alone in the middle of the graveyard, Jack Figg thanked God that Mark Longden had a streak of humanity in him. If Longden had not had the good sense to alert him about Jonathan Ainsley’s wild talk in Paris in September, they might have had a tragedy on their hands today. A church burning to the ground and killing everyone inside. Including Longden’s child, Adele. Obviously aware of possible danger to the little girl, Longden had made that crucial phone call and Jack was fully prepared. For anything. And anybody. Security was in place everywhere.
Lorne Fairley and Desmond O’Neill, Linnet’s brothers, were two of the ushers who greeted Robin, Marietta and Owen when they finally entered the church. They showed them to the pew on the bride’s family side of the aisle, and after a few words the two young men departed to take care of other guests now walking in.
‘It’s breathtaking,’ Marietta whispered to Robin and Owen as she glanced around the charming little church. ‘Just extraordinary.’
‘It’s Evan’s floral design,’ Robin whispered back. ‘She’s very talented, don’t you think?’
‘I’ll say she is,’ Owen murmured, taking everything in, a proud look crossing his face as he thought of his daughter’s creative gifts.
There were great banks of white orchids everywhere, and in various areas and corners of the church small leafless trees stood in smart white tubs. The trees had been painted white, and from their branches hung nosegays of delicate white flowers held in small silver-lace ruffs, following through the Elizabethan theme. Throughout the church were huge vases of white tulips, carnations and jonquils, as well as hundreds of white candles, from tall, slender tapers to votives in little glass pots. Like every other person in the church, Robin was struck by the beauty of the flowers set amidst the flickering candlelight…it harked back to medieval times.
Suddenly a burst of sunlight flooded in through the stained-glass windows, and he thought they looked like shimmering jewelled panels set high in the ancient stone walls. This little church, which he had known since he was a boy, was the most beautiful setting for a wedding, and he silently vowed that his only
grandchild Evan would be married to Gideon here next month. And it would be a wedding as breathtakingly beautiful as this. She deserved no less.
More of his family began to arrive, and went into the pew in front of him. Edwina, his favourite, was regal as always in an outfit of royal purple, a colour she always seemed to choose for special events. She glanced at him, smiled, then winked, and nodded at her escort. It was Russell Rhodes, the artist, looking handsome, if a little pugnacious, in his morning suit.
Robin was delighted that he was present this afternoon; he had warmed to Dusty last night when he had met him for the first time. Evan had confided that India had made up with him and that all was well between them. Dusty had obviously been welcomed into the family with open arms; he was seated next to India’s mother Sally, who was looking elegant in deep blue. Anthony Standish, India’s father, turned around, smiled at Robin, nodded to Owen and Marietta, then said something to Edwina, his mother.
Robin saw Sir Ronald Kallinski, Julian’s grandfather, coming up the aisle, accompanied by his son Michael, and Michael’s ex-wife Valentine, Julian’s parents.
A moment or two later, Robin’s twin sister Elizabeth walked in on the arm of her husband of many years, Marc Deboyne. Although she was the same age as Robin, she looked much younger than eighty, and he noticed how chic she was in a tailored midnight-blue silk dress and coat.
She whispered her greetings to Robin as she hurried to her pew, followed by her daughter Emily, granddaughter Natalie and Winston. Emily was in a plum-coloured floor-length suit, her daughter in amethyst silk, and both of them gave him a small wave when they spotted him.
Within fifteen minutes the church had begun to fill up, and as he saw Paula walking up the aisle to the front pew, accompanied by her mother Daisy and Grandfather Bryan O’Neill, he knew the bride could not be far behind.
Robin had always admired Paula’s ability to be a businesswoman, a wife and mother, and to somehow manage to look like a world-class model at the same time. Fifty-six years old, she seemed more like forty, and she was elegance personified in a dark fir-green velvet sleeveless coat, which came to her ankles, and was worn over a matching fir-green dress with lace sleeves. His mother’s famous emeralds blazed on Paula’s ears, and she wore Blackie’s emerald bow pinned on the shoulder of the coat.
Daisy, his youngest sister, was dressed in gold lace, and her face broke into a smile when she glanced at Robin before walking to the first pew with her daughter.
‘So many people, so many friends,’ Marietta whispered to Robin. ‘Heavens to Betsy, it’s some crowd! Well, at least Evan’s wedding won’t be the same–much smaller, I guess.’
Robin chuckled quietly, shook his head. ‘There aren’t that many friends here…what I mean is, not too many outsiders. Almost everyone here is called Harte, O’Neill or Kallinski. It’ll be the same group at Evan’s marriage to Gideon, I can assure you of that.’ As he spoke he looked around, saw so many Hartes he hadn’t set eyes on for years, he was quite surprised. Wasn’t that Amanda with her twin Francesca? And surely that was Sarah Lowther with Yves, her French husband, and their daughter Chloe. Goodness me, what a family, he thought. My mother and her brothers spawned quite a troop.
There was a sudden little flurry of activity, and peering ahead Robin realized that the choirboys were now filing in, and ten minutes after this he saw Julian arriving with his best man, Gideon. The two of them stood near the altar, the bridegroom waiting for his bride.
Robin thought that both young men looked composed, ready for anything. And next month Gideon would be standing in the same spot waiting at the altar for Evan to arrive on the arm of Owen. His son. His granddaughter.
Then all of a sudden, before Robin could blink, the organist began to play the wedding march from Wagner’s Lohengrin, and it rang out gloriously, rising to the rafters.
Everyone turned around. Here she came, the bride…In her cream gown in the Tudor style, Linnet looked beautiful and regal as she slowly walked up the aisle, holding onto the arm of her father Shane.
‘Her gown’s magnificent,’ Marietta whispered to Robin, and he nodded in agreement. There was no other word to describe it, Marietta was right.
On her burnished red hair Linnet wore a simple diamond tiara to hold her delicate tulle veil in place, and Robin recognized it as his mother’s. His eyes were riveted to her face…she resembled Emma so much, looked the way she must have when she was the same age.
Behind the bride followed her attendants in their billowing taffeta gowns: Linnet’s sisters, Tessa and Emsie; then came India and Evan, and finally, all alone and walking as sedately as she could manage, came little Adele. She was a miniature version of the older bridesmaids and her mother Tessa, the matron of honour.
Robin smiled, and he felt everyone else smile when they saw this most beautiful blonde child, carrying her nosegay of flowers in the silver ruff so carefully. Her pretty face was solemn, her steps dainty, as the occasion merited. A Fairley, he thought. She looks like a Fairley; no doubt about where she sprang from.
For Robin Ainsley the ceremony passed as if he were in a dream, memories of long ago crowding his mind, thoughts of his wonderful Glynnis uppermost. How he missed her, still longed for her. And yet they had been so lucky; they had had so much, more than most. His thoughts turned to Evan. How clever she was, the way she had fathomed out everything for herself, although she’d had a great deal of help from Glynnis. He smiled to himself. Glynnis had wanted him to have Owen and Evan in the end, when she was gone. She had always felt guilty about keeping him away from his son. But Robin knew this was because she had not wanted to ruin the relationship Owen had with Richard Hughes. She had been right, as she usually was.
Yet he knew there was another reason. Glynnis had needed their grandchild to know who she was, what her heritage was, and that was why she had made sure Evan would receive all those letters. Letters that told their own story. And that was all right, too. Whatever Glynnis did had always been all right with him.
Robin’s head came up suddenly as the music intruded. His heart squeezed and squeezed as the choirboys began to sing O Perfect Love, such a favourite of Glynnis’s, and an anthem he loved himself. He thought the choirboys had wondrous voices, and drawing closer to Marietta he said softly, ‘They sound like angels singing, don’t you think? So pure.’
She touched his arm, nodded, loving this man for his great sensitivity and kindness, and his enormous generosity of spirit. No wonder her mother-in-law had been so very much in love with him for all those years.
When the bride and groom returned from signing the register they came walking down the aisle arm in arm, smiling and joyous, stepping out to the strains of Mendelssohn’s Wedding March.
Slowly all of the guests left the church, following behind the loving couple, and when Robin stepped outside the church he couldn’t help smiling at the scene. It was matchless. Snowflakes and flower petals blowing in the breeze. A radiant Linnet clinging to Julian’s arm. The two of them laughing as they were driven off. Sitting in the wedding car beribboned in white silk bows. Old boots and cans tied to the boot, rattling loudly, making everyone chuckle at the incongruity.
The three of them stood in a corner of the big library: Tessa, India and Evan. All around them swirled the guests, drinking champagne, eating canapés, and having a wonderful time. A small trio played background music, and guests waved and smiled at them, but although they waved back the three young women remained aloof, waiting for their beaus to join them.
Tessa said, ‘Come on, tell us about it, Evan. What was the big secret you discovered about Robin and your Granny?’
‘She was never a granny,’ Evan laughed, and took a glass of orange juice from a passing waiter. ‘But let’s wait until our men get here.’
‘I’ve got something to tell you in the meantime,’ India murmured softly, ‘but we must keep it a secret between the three of us. I don’t want Linnet to know, because she’ll make a fuss about it tonight, and that wouldn??
?t be right.’
‘So tell us quickly, whilst she and Julian are having their photographs taken,’ Tessa instructed, taking a swallow of champagne.
India smiled. ‘Dusty and I are going to get engaged next week, whilst my parents are still here from Ireland. They think he’s fabulous, and he’s very taken with them. So there’s no problem.’
‘Congratulations,’ Evan said. ‘I know you don’t want to steal any of Linnet’s thunder today; that’s so nice of you.’
India gave a little shrug. ‘I never thought we would get it together, but he’s been so abject and unhappy and apologetic about the Melinda mess. Edwina told me to stop squawking, grow up and marry him.’
Tessa grinned. ‘She’s such a card! And congratulations, India darling.’
Evan looked over at Tessa intently, and announced, ‘I like your Jean-Claude. He’s fascinating, and Gideon was very taken with him last night at the dinner. So tell us quickly, before they arrive, is he going to become a member of the family, too?’
Tessa blushed. ‘I hope so. Actually, he’s proposed. But I have to get the divorce yet. When Great-Aunt Edwina met him earlier this week she actually told me, in front of him no less, to grab him fast before another woman did. Can you believe that!’
‘She’s incorrigible, that granny of mine,’ India exclaimed and began to laugh.
Tessa also laughed. ‘She’s no granny either! Oh look, our chaps are heading this way.’ Tessa moved her head slightly, began to wave.
Gideon, Dusty, Jean-Claude and Lorne strolled over, each nursing a glass of champagne. It was Lorne who said, ‘Why are the three beauties huddled in the corner? Are you in hiding? Gosh, the three of you should be circulating, shouldn’t you?’
‘Oh phooey,’ Tessa answered. ‘Anyway, we were waiting for you to get here. Evan discovered something about her grandmother and Uncle Robin, and–’