‘I’m so sorry, Lady Ravensdale.’ Walter Burnside, her private banker, reluctantly met her gaze.
Zara sat in the head office of the bank where her family had kept their money for the past three hundred years. The office was cold, despite the lush furnishings and rich artworks adorning the walls. She shivered and drew her cardigan tighter across her chest.
‘If it’s any comfort, many old English families are in the same position. It is so difficult to keep ancestral homes in the family. Death duties. The GFC. The astronomical maintenance costs.’
Zara let Walter’s sincere but useless words wash over her. Four hundred years of Ravensdale history had been repossessed. Ravensdale Manor was to be sold to the first person who put in a reasonable offer, and she knew who that would be.
‘Please, call me Zara. And thank you. I know you gave us as much time as possible.’
‘There is so little leeway now. The bank’s risk profile has changed profoundly. Many loans are now being called in or the terms of lending revised dramatically.’
She simply nodded. She didn’t care about the bank’s policies.
‘You should be proud of your efforts to save the estate. The work you did showed it could generate an income. Unfortunately . . .’
He didn’t need to say any more. It was too little, too late. The charity event had been a huge success and she’d been able to demonstrate advance bookings to the tune of many thousands of pounds, but it hadn’t been enough to convince the bank to give her more time.
She crossed her arms across her chest. ‘So you have a buyer already?’ She tried to make her query as casual as possible.
The bank manager looked down at his papers.
‘We do. The offer will cover the entire debt on the place. You will come out even.’ He fiddled with his pen. ‘The buyer seemed to think you’d know who he was.’
‘Xavier Hunt.’
The man nodded. ‘His offer is well above the one other offer we received. More than he needed to pay. He obviously really wants this property and all its effects quite badly.’
Her mouth dried. She tried to swallow, but couldn’t.
The bank manager walked quickly to a sideboard, poured a glass of water and handed it to her.
‘Did he say what his plans were for the place?’ she asked, managing to keep her voice steady.
The man’s cheeks coloured slightly. He looked everywhere but into her eyes.
‘I’m sorry, but I can’t discuss that with you,’ he said, sitting back behind his desk.
She nodded. ‘I understand’ Somehow Xavier had been able to ascertain her financial position, but any information about his private affairs was, of course, confidential.
‘So this is the last piece of paperwork.’ The bank manager slid a sheaf of papers across the desk. ‘It’s the final inventory of Ravensdale Manor. All these items must be left in situ.’
Xavier’s offer had been conditional on all of Ravensdale’s valuable furnishings, paintings and other effects being included in the sale. If she hadn’t accepted the deal, she would have still owed millions to the bank after the sale. She rubbed her fingers hard across her brow. She was about to sign away her home and everything in it.
‘Obviously, you may remove your personal items.’ The acute discomfort sounded distinctly in the bank manager’s voice.
She wanted to shout, to scream, to throw something. Instead, she took the proffered fountain pen.
‘Yes, I understand.’ She signed on the dotted line and dropped the pen.
‘Thank you, Lady Ravensdale. I’m so desperately sorry.’ The expression on his face told her he was genuine. Repossessing family homes would take a toll on a decent person’s soul.
‘Thank you for all your help,’ she said, standing and holding out her hand.
‘Good luck,’ he said, shaking her hand.
She turned, held her head high and walked from the bank manager’s office. Her heels tapped out a harsh echoing beat on the marble floor.
You failed.
You failed.
Four centuries of continuous history and when you’re the custodian, you fail.
By the time she pushed through the revolving door, she could no longer hold back the tears.
Xavier stood in the empty entrance hall of Ravensdale Manor. Specialist removalists had stripped the historic building of every trace of Ravensdale history. Two men in overalls walked past with the last of the massive, carefully wrapped portraits and loaded it into a van.
Xavier slapped his hands in a ‘job done’ fashion. He waited for the sense of satisfaction. The sense of jubilation. He forced a smile onto his face, but the anticipated elation didn’t come.
He walked out into the sunshine. It was probably because the place still bore the name Ravensdale Manor. When all things Ravensdale had been eradicated, then he’d feel his absolution.
Every last item would be auctioned next week at Sotheby’s. With so many antiques, portraits and historic artefacts, the profit would be substantial. Every pound would be invested in the horticulture college, in transforming a dark, old building and derelict grounds into something fresh and useful. Something his father would be proud of. Something Evan would have been proud of. Something he could be proud of.
He called the men on the drive and tipped them substantially. The moving team all shook his hand vigorously, slammed the truck doors closed, waved and left.
Xavier walked back into the house. It had always been such a magnificent structure, but stark and intimidating. Now it lacked any sort of ambience. He’d ripped out its soul. But he’d replace it with something better. Something worthwhile. Something that didn’t reflect the raw evil at its heart.
He ran his hand over the mahogany banister of the grand staircase. He’d bring this place back to life. He could never have damaged such a grand beautiful estate as he’d threatened. He’d see his original plan through. Something good would dissolve all the ill that had happened here.
His mobile phone pinged. He pulled it from his pocket and read the text. Julia had sent another sponsorship offer, this time from a sports shoe company. He smiled. Zara thought she’d destroyed him with the revelations about his background, but the very opposite had eventuated.
His publicity team had organised an interview on Britain’s top talk show on the same night the scandal had broken. He explained what had happened to him as a kid had changed his life. How his experiences had made him focus, and had actually been the catalyst for his success. He talked about his plans for Ravensdale Manor and how he hoped to help other young people find the right path through life.
The interview had been explosive. The latest issue of Forbes Magazine listed him as one of the hundred most influential people on the planet. Sponsorship offers had poured in, as had donations for the school.
Of course he hadn’t been able to tell the world he’d been falsely accused. His lawyers had made it very clear Hugh Ravensdale would win a defamation suit, and there was no way he’d let a Ravensdale win anything.
He surveyed the empty walls. He nodded . . . Job well done. But no satisfaction touched his heart.
The sound of a vehicle approaching drifted to his ears. He walked to the door. A cab drove down the drive. He frowned. He wasn’t expecting anyone. The taxi pulled up in front of the entrance. The driver leapt out and raced around to open the back door. Hugh Ravensdale stepped onto the gravel.
Xavier’s body snapped rigid. The blazing hatred he’d spent half his life trying to control pumped through his bloodstream. His eyes narrowed and his hands twisted into tight fists. How could the old man have the audacity to come here?
‘This is private property,’ Xavier said, fighting to keep control of his voice. ‘I can have you arrested for trespassing. And believe me, I’d enjoy nothing more than to watch the police haul you away.’
Ravensdale ignored him. ‘You may take me inside,’ Hugh directed the driver. ‘Then call back in ten minutes.’
‘Of course, Lord Ravensdale,’ the driver said, helping him up the stairs and into the house.
Xavier opened his mouth to throw Ravensdale off the property but stopped. Perhaps this was what he needed. He folded his arms across his chest and watched the driver assist the withered old man into the house. To witness Hugh Ravensdale realise where all his evil had finally led . . . to his own demise. He followed the men into the hall.
The driver looked about, clearly shocked at seeing the trappings of the house gone. Reluctantly he eased Ravensdale onto a step of the grand staircase.
‘You may go,’ Hugh waved the driver away.
‘Your Lordship.’ The man bobbed his head and left.
Hugh Ravensdale surveyed the room and clapped slowly. ‘Well done, lad. Well done.’
Xavier leaned on the wall and put his hands in his pockets. ‘What are we celebrating?’
‘My great victory,’ Ravensdale said. An ugly smile spread across his wizened face.
Xavier barked out a laugh. ‘And how do you figure that, old man? I own your house, your treasures are being sold at auction and the Ravensdales’ long, esteemed history is over. In six months, hundreds of teenagers from the types of families you loathe will swarm all over the house and the grounds.’
Ravensdale looked at the floor and nodded, as though carefully considering Xavier’s words. Xavier’s heart lifted. He’d beaten him. The man who’d tried to destroy him had been destroyed.
Ravensdale slowly raised his head and smiled. A smile filled with grotesque triumph.
Xavier’s moment of joy faded.
‘Ah yes, but you don’t have your filthy hands on the most important Ravensdale possession, and that’s all I’ve ever cared about.’
A hellish, frigid tingle spread up Xavier’s spine. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Zara, you fool.’
Xavier winced at the exaltation in Ravensdale’s voice.
‘I knew how you felt about each other,’ Ravensdale said, his voice coated with distaste. ‘I saw you that night from my bedroom window. You, pawing my daughter in the walled garden. I knew she loved you, just as my stupid slut of a wife loved your father. Black ice took care of that indiscretion very satisfactorily.’ He laughed. ‘And setting you up, I thought, would take care of you forever.’
Molten fury exploded through Xavier’s veins. The room flashed red and in that moment Xavier understood how murder could be committed in a moment of passion. He took two steps toward the evil before him, but slammed his fist into the wall instead. A huge chunk of plaster hit the floor and burst into a cloud of dust.
‘You bastard.’
‘And it was so easy.’
Hugh shifted casually to make himself more comfortable, as though he were watching Wimbledon, not relating the tale of how he’d destroyed a man’s life.
‘Anything is possible if you understand human weakness,’ Hugh said, his elation clear. ‘The local policeman was in debt up to his ears, so getting him onside was easy. Keeping him on the line was as simple as slipping him a few hundred pounds a week. Of course he gambled and was always back for more, until the stress of it all conveniently killed him.’
Xavier swore. His nails bit hard into the skin on his palms.
‘The airline tickets were equally elementary. That stupid whore of a travel agent had cheated on her husband. A little blackmail, backdating a couple of tickets, job done. Mind you, she was a bit more of a problem. She actually felt guilty, but an all-expenses-paid new life in Australia quickly took care of that.’
Xavier’s fists shook at his sides.
‘And do you really think the word of a teenage gardener, with the family jewels under his mattress, would have been believed in an English court of law if he’d accused the local lord of falsifying evidence?’ Hugh beamed a smile saturated with victory. ‘Please. As much as you peasants try to climb the ladder, my country still knows the natural order of things.’
‘You destroyed my life,’ Xavier said, his voice thick with mad rage.
‘Yes, so you’d never touch my daughter again.’
‘I loved her. She loved me.’
‘Oh, I knew she loved you. All those passionate letters she sent you in prison. Trying to understand. Heartbreaking to read.’
The mocking nearly drove Xavier across the room. He forced away the image of his hands around that scrawny neck.
‘You stole my letters?’
‘Only Zara’s. The prison warden was so easy to bribe.’
Ravensdale licked his lips. ‘And you might have won, except I kept something back, in case you ever turned up.’ He held up one hand and inspected his nails. ‘You always were a determined little bugger.’
Hugh waited for Xavier to question him. He didn’t give the man the satisfaction.
‘Lilly’s fake airline ticket.’ Ravensdale threw his hands up in celebration. ‘The airline ticket that meant Zara had been left behind by her mother and by you. It looked like you’d all abandoned her. So I knew she’d always be loyal to me.’ Ravensdale’s eyes sparkled. ‘She can’t stand to be alone. She never recovered from those lonely days in hospital when she had lymphoma as a child.’
Hugh Ravensdale had been the cause of everything. All the hideousness in his life, manufactured by this man.
Xavier jabbed a finger at the monster in front of him. ‘You told the media about my past.’
‘Of course I did.’ Hugh laughed. ‘After Zara discovered your plans, she came straight to me. I knew you’d blame her for the leak to the press. You performed exactly as scripted. Again!’
Hugh placed his hand on the banister and pulled himself to his feet with an energy that defied his age and health.
‘Zara will marry Lord Rupert Stanley-Howard,’ the old man said. ‘She will live at Stanley Hall in the manner to which she was born. The Ravensdale name and bloodline will live on, untainted by the likes of you.’ He looked down his aristocratic nose. ‘Working-class scum.’
A footfall sounded down the hall to the left. Xavier jerked his head in that direction. Zara stepped from the shadows, her eyes wide and her face greyer than the Carrara marble lining the floor.
Xavier’s heart flew over three beats. Adrenaline surged through his body. ‘Zara!’ Had she heard everything? Did she now know the truth?
‘You sick bastard,’ she spat at her father, her face distorted.
Lord Ravensdale crumpled and dropped heavily onto the step.
‘Darling,’ he rasped, gripping his chest.
Zara didn’t move. She stood rigid, staring at her father, her lovely face creased with abhorrence.
Fifteen years of hatred, revenge and fury dissipated from Xavier’s body. For a moment he felt weak, the tumultuous emotions that had driven him for so long melting away.
Finally the world would know the truth.
Finally Zara knew the facts.
Finally they would be together.
A strength Xavier had never felt before permeated his soul. He felt he could lift the entire Ravensdale Manor with a single command.
Finally he would know justice.
Zara gripped the doorframe to prevent her knees giving away. Her heart banged painfully. The world she knew crumbled away. She stared at her father, aghast. The father who had lied and manipulated and contrived.
The ramifications of what she’d heard ricocheted through her foggy brain. Her whole adult life . . . based on lies. She desperately sucked air into her lungs, hoping to clear her mind enough to understand, but the floor swayed under her feet and her mind followed suit.
Her father scrambled to his feet.
‘Darling, I don’t know what you’ve heard but —’
‘Stop.’
His voice was coated with sickly sweet inflections she’d never heard before. Her stomach cramped as though she’d been fed a deadly poison. Did he really think he could come back from this? Zara held her hands in front of her face. ‘I don’t want to hear another word from you.’ She hissed the words through trembling lips.
This man, her father, who was supposed to love and protect her, had written a script for her life based on a series of falsehoods and the wreckage of other people’s lives.
‘For fifteen years I’ve listened to you. Trusted you.’ She pushed off the door, a powerful new force entering her body. All her life she’d never felt quite whole. Mother dead. Father emotionally crippled in grief and fury. Xavier in prison and then gone. She’d been waiting, somehow always waiting, for the world to come right. Waiting for someone to fix it. To make it all okay.
‘Your lies,’ she cried, her words tasting bitter. ‘I’ve built my whole life on your lies.’ She shook her head. Hell. If she hadn’t come back to beg Xavier for the backgammon set, she might never have discovered the truth.
‘Darling, I did all this for you.’ Hugh spread his hands with a flourish, as if the desolated Ravensdale manor were a gift all wrapped up with a pretty pink bow. ‘I didn’t want you to make the biggest mistake of your life with this man. These kinds of men . . .’ Hugh flicked his hand dismissively in Xavier’s direction.
‘They pollute what is pure and true,’ he continued, as though what he was saying was in no way repulsive. ‘Our family spans almost four centuries. Don’t you see?’ Hugh held his hand up as if imploring God. ‘Marrying outside your class brings ruin and damnation. I made a terrible mistake with your mother, she was highborn but behaved like a whore . . . but you, you can rebuild the Ravensdales’ honour. You can take the family to new heights. Restore its fortunes.’ He sounded like an extremist politician ranting at an election rally.
Xavier stepped between her and her father. ‘Let me take you away from here,’ he said in a voice so caring it nearly crippled her newfound strength. He held out his hand to her.
It would be so easy to run away with Xavier. But look at what he’d done. The man he really was. Taking her home and stripping it, all in the name of revenge.
She backed away. She felt so brittle, she could crumble to dust. ‘Don’t come near me.’
Her words slapped confusion and hurt into Xavier’s face. An acid drop of guilt inflamed her belly, but dissipated immediately. Her father was a monster. Yet Ravensdale manor stood stark and empty and soulless, thanks to Xavier’s vicious reprisal.
‘But now you know everything. The truth,’ Xavier said, as though a few simple words could erase the destruction around her. ‘Don’t you see? We’re free. Free to love each other. Free to be together. Free to live the life we always should have. We can start today.’ He glanced back at Hugh. ‘Away from this poison.’
He tried to catch her hand. She ripped hers away from his grasp.
‘Don’t touch me,’ she said. ‘Do you think there is anything you could do or say to entice me to ever be with you?’
His face contorted with pain. He stilled for a moment and drew in a long breath.
‘Zara, you’re confused,’ he said, his voice calm and measured, in total contrast to the raging drama unfolding. ‘This is a shock.’ He reached for her again. ‘We’ve both been manipulated. Don’t you see? You’re giving him exactly what he wants.’
‘Do you think for one moment I’d have slept with you if I’d known you were trying to spirit my home out from underneath me?’
Hugh sat heavily on the stairs and gasped for air.
‘But I explained,’ Xavier said, his calm timbre slipping. ‘I couldn’t —’
‘More words. More heart-wrenching stories. But look around, Xavier. This doesn’t look like moving on, or drawing a line in the sand.’
She looked around the room. Only shadowed rectangles remained imprinted on the walls where paintings had hung for hundreds of years. ‘You’ve taken my home and everything I own.’
‘Your father destroyed my life,’ Xavier said, any calm now gone from his voice.
‘And now you’ve destroyed mine. Congratulations.’ She ran her finger horizontally through the air. ‘Line drawn. Don’t you ever come near me again.’ She turned away from the only man she’d ever loved. Turned away from her only family. Turned away from the ruins of hundreds of years of Ravensdale history.
She walked down the steps, to her car, got in and drove away. Away from a lifetime of lies and deceit and manipulation and treachery.