Old Sins Read Online Free PDF Page A

old is that child?’ said Letitia quietly to Susan. ‘Three? Well, that should buy her the odd pony.’
    ‘Er – if I might continue. To my beloved daughter Rosamund –’ again a pause. Roz tensed, closed her eyes briefly – ‘I bequeath the following: £5 million free of tax, all of the horses in my stables at Marriotts Manor, with the exception of the aforementioned Rose Red (That was cruel, thought Letitia, Phaedria loved those horses) and’ – Henry paused, looking at Roz carefully, for a brief second – ‘forty-nine per cent of the shares in Morell Industries.’
    There was a long, hurtful silence. Roz clenched her fists, folded her lips; whatever she did, she knew, she must not move or make a sound, otherwise everything would break out, she would scream, punch the air, Henry, Phaedria, anyone. She looked at the floor, at her feet; they suddenly looked very far away. Then she managed, with a supreme act of courage, to meet Phaedria’s eyes.
    The expression in them was thoughtful, concerned, almost kind; but still triumphant. I have won, that look said. I have won and you have not.
    Henry paused again, then perceptibly straightened and continued reading.
    ‘To my dear wife, Phaedria Morell’ – only dear wife, thought Roz savagely, her rage and misery lifting just for a moment, I was his beloved daughter, she is only his dear wife – ‘I bequeath the following: £10 million free of tax, my house in Hanover Terrace, Regent’s Park, London; Lower Marriotts Manor, in the County of Sussex; Turtle Cove House on the Island of Eleuthera in the Bahamas, and my entire collection of paintings, with the exception of the two Stubbs, the Rembrandts, the Hockneys and the Sidney Nolans already mentioned.’
    There was yet another silence. That’s funny, thought Roz, who is getting his plane? He loved that plane.
    Henry looked round the room again with an expression almost impossible to interpret; there was a challenge in that look and amusement, much apprehension, a sort of triumph even, and as it brushed over Phaedria, tenderness and concern. He took a long drink of water, cleared his throat, shifted in his chair – anything, thought Roz, anything rather than continue. Finally he looked back at the document on his desk.
    ‘I also bequeath my wife Phaedria forty-nine per cent of the shares in Morell Industries.’
    The mathematical implication of this bequest hit the room slowly; the silence grew heavier. Phaedria was no longer pale, she was flushed, she could feel sweat breaking out on her forehead. Roz was standing almost to attention now, her eyes very bright in her white face, her fists clenched. C. J. was looking with equal apprehension from Roz to Phaedria; Camilla was no longer relaxed but taut – tense, thought C. J.,who had always rather admired her, like a race horse under starter’s orders, hardly able to contain herself and her nervous energy. Eliza broke the stillness; she got up suddenly and walked over to the window, turned to face the room from behind Henry’s chair, intense interest on her face.
    ‘Do go on,’ she said. ‘I imagine there must be more.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Henry, and looked down again at his desk. ‘Finally, I bequeath the remaining two per cent of shares in Morell Industries to Miles Wilburn, in the hope and indeed belief that he will use them wisely and well. I also bequeath my Lear jet to Miles Wilburn, as he may find a need for greater mobility in the future, together with the residue of the estate. There remains only for me to bid you all farewell and to say that I hope you will in time see the wisdom of what I have done.’
    The first sound to break the silence again was of Eliza laughing; it began as a smothered chuckle and became a gorgeous, joyous peal. ‘He did have style,’ she said, to no one in particular, ‘real style.’
    Almost simultaneously Phaedria fainted, simply slid out of her chair and on to the floor.
    Living the events of the next hour over and over