Daughters of Castle Deverill Read Online Free PDF Page A

was relieved to find that her guests were only his cousin Bertie’s wife, Maud, who was perched stiffly on the edge of the sofa, her severely cut blonde bob
accentuating the chiselled precision of her cheekbones and the ice-blue of her strikingly beautiful eyes, her eldest daughter Victoria, who had acquired a certain poise as Countess of Elmrod, and
Digby’s own mother Augusta, who presided over the group like a fat queen in a Victorian-style black dress with ruffles that frothed about her chins, and a large feathered hat.
    As he entered, the four faces looked up at him in surprise. It wasn’t usual for Digby to put in an appearance during the day. He was most often at his gentlemen’s club,
White’s, or tucked away in his study on the telephone to his bankers from Barings or Rothschild, or to Mr Newcomb, who trained his racehorses in Newmarket, or talking diamonds with his South
African cronies. ‘What is it, Digby?’ Beatrice asked, noticing at once his burning cheeks, twitching moustache and the nervous way he played with the large diamond ring that sparkled on
the little finger of his right hand. Digby was still a handsome man with shiny blond hair swept off a wide forehead and bright, intelligent eyes, which now had a look of bewilderment.
    He checked himself, suddenly remembering his manners. ‘Good morning, my dear Maud, Victoria, Mama.’ He forced a tight smile and bowed, but couldn’t hide his impatience to share
his news.
    ‘Well, don’t stand on ceremony, Digby, what is it?’ Augusta demanded stridently.
    ‘Yes, Cousin Digby, we’re all frightfully curious,’ said Victoria, glancing at her mother. Maud looked at Digby expectantly; she loved nothing more than other people’s
dramas because they gave her a satisfying sense of superiority.
    ‘It’s about Castle Deverill,’ he said, looking directly at Maud, who reddened. ‘You see, I’ve just had a telephone call from Bertie.’
    ‘What did he want?’ Maud asked, putting down her teacup. She hadn’t spoken to her husband Bertie since he had announced to the entire family at his mother Adeline’s
funeral that the supposed ‘foundling’, whom their youngest daughter Kitty was raising as her own, was, in fact, his illegitimate son. Not only was the news shocking, it was downright
humiliating. In fact, she wondered whether she would ever get over the trauma. She had left for London without a word, vowing that she would never speak to him again. She wouldn’t set another
foot in Ireland, either, and in her opinion the castle could rot into the ground for all the good it had done her. She had never liked the place to begin with.
    ‘Bertie has sold the castle and Celia has bought it,’ Digby announced and the words rang as clear as shots. The four women stared at him aghast. There was a long silence. Victoria
looked nervously at her mother, trying to read her thoughts.
    ‘You mean
Archie
has bought it for her,’ said Augusta, smiling into the folds of chin that spilled over the ruffles of her dress. ‘What a devoted husband he has turned
out to be.’
    ‘Is she mad?’ Beatrice gasped. ‘What on earth is Celia going to do with a ruined castle?’
    ‘Rebuild it?’ Victoria suggested with a smirk. Beatrice glanced at her in irritation.
    Maud’s thin fingers flew to her throat where they pulled at the skin there, causing it to redden in patches. It was all well and good selling the castle, there was no prestige to be
enjoyed from a pile of ruins and a diminishing estate, but she hadn’t anticipated a
Deverill
buying it. No, that was much too close for comfort. Better that it had gone to some
arriviste American with more money than sense, she mused, than one of the family. It was most unexpected and extremely vexing that it had gone to a Deverill, and to flighty, frivolous and silly
Celia of all people! Surely, if it was to remain in the family, it was only right that her son Harry, the castle’s rightful heir, should have