Daughters of Castle Deverill Read Online Free PDF

it. And why the secrecy? Celia had crawled in
like a thief and bought it on the sly. For what? To humiliate
her
and her family no less. Maud narrowed her ice-blue eyes and wondered how she, with her sharp powers of observation, had
never noticed the treachery in that dim-witted girl.
    ‘They are both unwise,’ said Digby. ‘That place will be the ruin of them. It’s the sort of vanity project that will swallow money with little to show for it. I wish they
had discussed it with me first.’ He strode into the room and positioned himself in front of the fire, hooking his thumbs into the pockets of his waistcoat and leaning back on the heels of his
debonair wingtip brogues.
    ‘At least it’s going to remain in the family,’ said Victoria. Not that
she
cared one way or the other. She had never liked the damp and cold of Ireland and although
her marriage was just as chilly, at least she was Countess of Elmrod living in Broadmere in Kent and a townhouse here in London where the rooms were warm and the plumbing worked to her
satisfaction. She wanted to whisper to her mother that at least Kitty hadn’t managed to buy it –
that
would have finished their mother off for good. It would have upset
Victoria too. In spite of her own wealth and position in society she was still secretly jealous of her youngest sister.
    Augusta settled her imperious gaze on Maud and inhaled loudly up her nose, which signalled an imminent barrage of haughty venom. Digby’s mother was not too old to read the unspoken words
behind Maud’s beautiful but bitter mouth. ‘How do
you
feel about that, my dear? I imagine it’s something of a shock to learn that the estate now passes into the hands of
the
London
Deverills. Personally, I congratulate Celia for rescuing the family treasure, because we must all agree that Castle Deverill
is
the jewel in the family
crown.’
    ‘Oh yes, “A Deverill’s castle is his kingdom,” ’ said Digby, quoting the family motto that was branded deep into his heart.
    ‘Deverill Rising,’ Augusta added, referring to Digby’s Wiltshire estate, ‘is nothing compared to Castle Deverill. I don’t know why you didn’t buy it yourself,
Digby. That sort of money is nothing to you.’
    Digby puffed out his chest importantly and rocked back and forth on his heels. His mother was not wrong; he could have bought it ten times over. But Digby, for all his extravagance and
flamboyance, was a prudent and pragmatic man. ‘It is not through folly that I have built my fortune, Mother,’ he retorted. ‘Your generation remember the days when the British
ruled supreme in Ireland and the Anglo-Irish lived like kings, but those days are long gone, as we’re all very well aware. The castle was disintegrating long before the rebels burnt it to the
ground. I wouldn’t be so foolish as to entertain ideas of resurrecting something which is well and truly dead. The future’s here in England. Ireland is over, as Celia will learn to her
cost. The family motto not only refers to bricks and mortar, but to the Deverill spirit, which I carry in my soul. That’s
my
castle.’
    Maud sniffed through dilated nostrils and lifted her delicate chin in a display of self-pitying fortitude. She sighed. ‘I must admit that this is quite a shock.
Another
shock. As
if I haven’t had enough shocks to last me a lifetime.’ She smoothed her silver-blonde bob with a tremulous hand. ‘First, my youngest daughter shames me by insisting on bringing an
illegitimate child to London and then my husband announces to the world that the boy is his. And if
that
isn’t enough to humiliate me he then decides to sell our son’s
inheritance . . .’ Augusta caught Beatrice’s eye. It didn’t suit Maud to remember that it was at
her
insistence that her husband had finally agreed to be
rid of it. ‘And now it will belong to Celia. I don’t know what to say. I should be happy for her. But I can’t be. Poor Harry will be devastated that his