She must fight against living in the past. She was still not truly old. Life might have much for her yet. She must talk with Bart and try to make him give in to his son about the change to steel ships. She must also try and comfort him when he was recovered. Just now she could not see him. It was Vera’s house, and she would not enter it, though in most ways she had been a better wife to the handsome Bart than his frigid wife had been. Her sole contribution had been Donald, and she had never given Bart the opportunity of having another child by her.
Becky smiled to herself in the gathering light of dawn. At least she’d given Bart another child, a daughter. And even though the unforeseen romance between half-brother and half-sister was causing some problems now, she did not regret Anne. She could never do that. And she could only try hard to work things out for them all.
She was standing in the foyer of the busy restaurant when a tweed-suited and derby-hatted Donald entered to join her. She was wearing a new woollen coat over a late-style taffeta dress. The morning had been cold and rainy.
Donald said, “What is it you want to tell me?”
She smiled at him. “Nothing that can’t wait until we are at our table.”
He was embarrassed at his breech of etiquette and apologized, “I’m sorry. I’m so concerned about Anne I’ve completely forgotten my manners.”
Anne is all right,” she said. “I have something else to discuss with you.”
Relieved, he sought out the head waiter and they were shown to a table not far from the door. After they ordered, she briefly told the young man about Davy Brown, without revealing that he was the man who had whipped his father so badly.
She said, “Davy Brown is now extremely wealthy and the owner of a steel mill. He’s looking for an alliance with a suitable shipyard. I think we should try to interest him in Gregg & Kerr.”
“It’s an excellent idea,” the young man agreed. “But my father’s health is better, and he’ll be well enough to return to the office on Monday. He’ll not listen to any such idea.”
“You feel sure of that?”
“Yes,” Donald said grimly. “If we don’t get a few steel ships to build, we’ll be bankrupt within the year!”
She gasped. “We can’t let that happen.”
“I’m thinking of going to America,” Donald said with a sigh. “I mean to talk to Anne about it if she ever returns from Paris.”
“Anne would not want to leave London, not as long as I’m alive,” she protested.
Donald said, “You could come to America with us. Your own fortune will be lost if the yard collapses.”
“I don’t mean to have that happen,” Becky said with a hint of the brave barmaid who had fought her way so long. “I haven’t come this far to give way weakly.”
“Father is stubborn on the point. What can we do?”
“We can force his hand,” Becky said. “Don’t forget I own a major share of the company. You have some in your own right which you inherited from your grandfather. If we placed our shares together, we could outvote your father.”
Donald looked shocked. “He’d never forgive us.”
“I think he would if he found we could save the shipyard,” She said. “And whether he forgives us or not would be up to him.”
The young man stared at her in amazement. “You would put him out of power at the yard! You and he are lovers!”
“Yes,” she said quietly. “That is true. We have been lovers a long while. And I shall always be faithful to him unless he turns against me.”
He looked at her in silence and then said, “You are a strange but wonderful woman!”
“No,” she said lightly. “Practical would be a better word. Now I’m to spend the weekend with Davey Brown at his estate south of London. I want you to come by and spend Saturday afternoon with us. Come for luncheon and stay until late in the afternoon. I want you and he to have a good talk.”
Donald was excited. “It’s too good a chance to turn down! And maybe if we put over this steel proposal, Anne will be so impressed she’ll forget all about her Count.”
“Who knows? she asked.
“My father will be angry at us both.”
“Let us hope he gets over it,” she said.
“Yes. It is for his own good in the long run.”
“I’m sure he’ll eventually see that,” Becky said. “So you will not fail me on Saturday. I shall be there to introduce you. I’ll write down the address for you before we leave after lunch.”
“I’ll be there,” he promised.
“Oh, by the way,” she said. “Brown has a daughter, Julia. He sets great store on her because he’s a widower. I don’t know what sort of girl she is, but for his sake we must be pleasant with her.”
Donald nodded without showing interest. “Yes, of course.”
It was a pleasant, sunny Friday afternoon and Becky had just arrived at Tenby Hall. Davy Brown was showin her about the gardens, after she’d been safely installed in a large guest room. She came downstairs in a red linen dress with a white lace trim at collar and cuffs, and with a modest bustle. The chic red bonnet she wore had a white facing as well. She wanted to look her best, as she wanted Davy in good humor.
Davy was apparently put in his best temper just by having her at his newly purchased estate. He took her by the arm and led her through the gardens. At one point he paused to pick several yellow roses and give them to her.
“Make a deuced good contrast to your dress,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said. “I hesitated to wear crimson, since some might not think it fitting at my age.”
He halted and stared at her. “Your age, Madam? You are not yet forty, if I’m not muddled in my figures.”
She laughed lightly. “You are a trifle muddled, but by only a small margin.”
“Then let it be,” he insisted. “You have a beauty many women half your age would envy.”
“I fear you praise me too highly.”
“I do not,” he said. “And I’m not one of your London gallants, only a rough gold miner from Australia.”
They emerged from the garden to the back yard of the house in time to see a pretty, darkhaired girl in grey riding habit ride up. She dismounted lightly, patted the face of her brown horse, and turned it over to a waiting stableman. As the man led the horse away the girl pulled off her gloves and came gracefully towards them.
Her eyes bright, a mischievous smile on her pert, oval face, the girl held out a hand to Becky and said, “You must be Becky! I can tell by the way father radiates happiness beside you.”
They exchanged kisses and Becky said, “Davy told me he had a lovely daughter, and I must confess I wasn’t much impressed. Meeting you is much different. You are a beauty!”
Julia smiled. “And I hear you have a daughter of my age who is presently in Paris.”
“Yes,” she said.
“Lucky girl,” Julia said. “I loved Paris during the short time I was there. I should like to return.”
“Why don’t you?” she asked.
“Not for a while,” the girl in the riding habit said with a sly smile for her beaming father. “I have to wait until this father of mine gets his new business in hand.”
“Of course,” Becky said. “It is so kind of you to have me here.”
“I’ve wanted to meet you,” Julia said. “All my life I’ve heard about you.”
Becky was impressed with the attractive, witty girl. And she was more than impressed by life at Tenby Hall. She had become used to a luxurious way of life, but the wealthy Davy and his daughter lived in what could only be called royal style. A myriad of servants took care of the house and grounds, and everything was of the best quality.
She was tired that night and went to her room early. She had only been there for a little when there was a light tap on her door. She went and opened it to find Julia standing there in an attractive dressing gown of yellow silk.
“May I come in for a moment?” she asked.
“Of course,” Becky said. “I always knit or read a little before I go to bed.”
Julia smiled at her. “I’m so happy to have you here. There’s been such a change in my father.”
“Really?”
“Yes. He became strange when we first returned to London. He was almost dour. I know he had many business matters to bother him, but there was more to it than that. He was also searching for you.”
They were sitting on the edge of her canopied bed, side by side. Becky said, “I thought him dead long ago.”
“I know,” Julia said. “He was so delighted when he found you.”
“It has been good,” she said.
Julia gave her a shy glance. “Has he asked you to marry him?”
She was amused by the girl’s question. She said, “As a matter of fact, he did. Would you disapprove?”
“Not at all!” she said. “I would like to see him marry! But he seems to think he must wait until he finds someone for me.”
“You’re not engaged?”
“No.”
“A wealthy and attractive girl like you. I think you must have had many suitors,” Becky said.
“I have,” she admitted. “But never the right one. I think you know when the right man comes along.”
“You do,” she said with a sigh. “I’m sure of that.”
“Was Mark Gregg the right man for you?”
“No,” she said sadly. “He brought me wealth and position. He saw that I was taught to be a lady. But he could not give me true love. I suppose that was the reason our marriage ended tragically.”
“I know nothing about it.”
She gave the girl a gentle smile. “It was all long ago. Let us say Mark loved me in his way. He was a man hardly capable of love. Ambition ruled him. And then I met someone else. The father of the young man who is coming here tomorrow to see your father.”
Julia said, “Mr. Donald Woods.”
“Yes.”
“What is he like?”
“He looks very much like his father. So he is handsome. But he is different in nature. His father had a streak of wildness, but Donald is a fine, young man.”
“But you fell in love with his father in spite of his wildness?”
Becky sighed. “I’ll admit that to you, my dear. I have hardly admitted it to myself. It began with my admiring his determination to make something of his life. Then I became sorry for him because he was treated badly by his wife. Before we knew it, we had become dependent on one another. We are like a married couple, even though Bart and his wife have never divorced. He had not lived with her in a man and wife relationship since before we became lovers.”
“You’ve had such an interesting life!” Julia said with rapt interest.
“I sometimes feel very old!”
“You look and seem young to me!”
Becky said, “But I know how old I am. I can’t pretend with myself. One think I must warn you. Your father does not know that Bart Woods and I are lovers. I hope you will not tell him.”
Julia looked solemn. “I won’t betray your trust. But what about father? He asked you to marry him. What did you say?”
“I had to refuse him because of Bart. And it wasn’t easy, since Davy was my first love and perhaps the only man I have loved completely.”
The pretty dark girl said, “Could you not turn away from this Bart and marry my father?”
“I could,” she said quietly. “The temptation is great. But Bart is in failing health and unhappy. Would
you
desert him?”
The black-eyed Julia considered a moment, then she said, “No, I don’t think I would.”
“You see?” Becky said. “I had the feeling from the time I met you that we are much alike.”
“And I at once found someone I liked in you,” the girl said. “Father has placed so many of his hopes on you. I trust that you will at least be his good friend.”
She smiled. “Be sure of that. And there is even a good chance we shall be business partners. It depends on how much your father and Donald Woods like each other after their meeting tomorrow.”
Julis said, “I shall be anxious to meet that young man. He sounds interesting.”
Julia remained with her a little longer, then kissed her goodnight and went on to her room. Becky was much impressed with the girl. Davy had done a remarkable job in raising her. But he’d had the money to hire good people to care for her. She hoped that when Donald arrived he would meet Julia and take to her.
But Donald arrived too late for lunch the next day. Becky was feeling much at home at Tenby Hall. She and Davy were exchanging reminiscences in the great living room when Donald was shown in. He wore a black frock coat and gray trousers and looked very much the sedate, young business man. When introductions had been made, she sat for a while in general discussion of the shipyard’s problems and the introduction of steel ships.
“Steel is the metal of the future,” Donald said earnestly. “At least until some new development comes along.”
“Exactly my feelings,” Davy Brown agreed. “I gather your father is not so impressed, Mr. Woods.”
Donald smiled bitterly as he sat across from the older man. “Like most young firebrands, my father in his old age is strongly conservative in his opinions.”
“That is so,” Becky agreed. “Bart Woods fought to have the year turn to iron ships. And he was right. But now he can’t seem to realize that day has passed.”
Davy Brown was smoking a large cigar and he studied the glowing tip of it. He asked Donald, “Are you able to dictate the policy of the shipyard. Even if your father disagrees?”
Donald gave her a look and then turned to the huge Davy again and said, “Yes. But only with the help of Mrs. Gregg. We have enough shares together to outvote my father.”
Davy looked grimly amused. “What do you say, Becky?”
“In this I shall have to back up Donald,” she said.
The big man puffed thoughtfully on his cigar. “I shall speak to my manager at the steel mill on Monday. I will ask him to draw up a proposal for a merger with your shipyard to be presented to your company board in due time, the object being the joint production of steel ships.”
Donald smiled his gratitude. “Thank you, sir. The moment the proposal reaches me I shall act on it.”
Davy Brown said, “I should like to see the project go through, since I understand Mrs. Gregg’s fortune is threatened by your father’s stubborn position.”
“That is true, sir,” Donald said.
“You have my word on this,” the burly Davy said. “And now let me show you around the grounds. I won’t hide the fact I’m proud of this place.”