In the Lion’s Den: The House of Falconer

James stepped forward to speak to Irina’s brother, greeting Alexander by his surname, as was the custom. ‘I’m delighted to see you, Parkinson. Natalie tells me you’re doing the scenery for a new play.’

‘Pleasure to see you here tonight, Falconer,’ Alexander answered. ‘And I haven’t quite made my deal yet. However, I am hoping.’ Glancing at Keller, who was talking to Irina, obviously about the icons, he went on. ‘Your colleague appears to be a nice chap.’ Lowering his voice, he added, ‘I have a feeling Natalie rather likes him, not that she’s admitted that to me. Yet …’ He raised a dark brow. ‘What say you, Falconer?’

‘She finds him rather shy, which he is in a way. I like him tremendously. He works hard; he’s a good chap. And most definitely true blue.’ A smile surfaced on James’s face, and he said sotto voce, ‘It wouldn’t surprise me if they hit it off. He’s her type.’

‘And what’s that?’ Parkinson asked, his curiosity apparent.

‘Serious without being stuffy, highly intelligent, honest as the day is long, and not a bad bone in his body. I appreciate him, and he’s taken a great burden off my back. He’s turned the Wine Division around and managed to bring it up to par in Le Havre, where we’ve had problems.’

Before Alexander could say anything, Natalie returned to the drawing room and, standing next to her brother and James, told them, ‘Cook is happy. I’d even go so far as to say delirious … because all the guests have arrived. No spoiled dishes ce soir.’

‘I hope I’m sitting next to you,’ James said, as he noticed Mrs Lorne bringing the other guests inside.

‘You must wait and see,’ Natalie replied, and took hold of her brother’s arm. ‘Let us lead the way, Sandro.’

NINE (#ulink_8166a4d5-9561-5460-a299-326f50335869)

James followed Natalie across the front entrance hall, flagged in black-and-white marble, somewhat reluctant to leave the lovely drawing room. Although he had been to Mrs Lorne’s house several times, he had previously only ever been entertained in the library opposite.

That room was rather masculine, with shelves full of books and dark-green leather sofas and chairs. He had had tea there once, and a meeting with Natalie on another occasion. So seeing the rest of the house today was a revelation to him.

Natalie paused at the doorway of the dining room and whispered, ‘You’re in for a surprise. Come on, you’re going to see how clever Sandro is.’ As she spoke she took hold of James’s hand and led him inside.

He was indeed taken aback, and drew in his breath as he glanced around. What he saw were the most beautiful murals of garden scenes on all four walls, broken only at the window where narrow green silk draperies hung to the floor, neat and unobtrusive.

The scenes Sandro had painted were true to life: green trees, bushes and lawns. There was a blue sky filled with puffy white clouds and a wonderful mixture of flowers with the blooms in their natural colours: pink roses, delphiniums, daffodils, and tulips of varying hues.

Turning to Natalie, he exclaimed, ‘What an amazing effect he has created! I feel as if I am really in the garden, in the middle of it.’

Natalie said rather proudly, ‘My brother is probably one of the best scenic designers for the theatre in London.’

‘If this room is anything to go by, I would say the very best,’ James replied, his tone sincere.

‘Please everyone, do be seated,’ Francesca Lorne announced. ‘There is a place card at every setting. It’s easy to find your name.’

Within seconds the chairs at the round table were filled.

James was surprised to see he was seated next to Mrs Lorne, on her right, with Aubrey Williamson on her left, positioned between Mrs Lorne and Irina.

Irina gave James a smile as she sat down and then winked at him, which amused him. There was something about this young woman that touched him. It was not just her loveliness, but something else that drew him to her … perhaps her warm and welcoming personality. A deep kindness emanated from her. She had a certain aura he could not quite pinpoint.

Well schooled in manners by his Falconer grandmother, James turned at once to his hostess and praised her for her beautifully set table. Silver and crystal sparkled in the candlelight, and the large bowl of pink roses gave off a lovely scent.

‘And I must compliment you on the overall beauty of this room, Mrs Lorne. Especially your nephew’s murals, which are breathtaking. They are so lifelike I feel I have stepped into the garden, as I just told Natalie.’

‘They are unique,’ Mrs Lorne murmured. ‘Everyone says exactly the same as you. There is no doubt about it, Sandro is genuinely gifted. His theatrical designs are much praised, you know.’

At this moment, the door to the kitchen opened and the housekeeper appeared. Addressing Francesca Lorne, she announced, ‘Supper is about to be served, madam.’

‘Thank you, Violet. You can all come in. I know we’re in for a treat.’

Within seconds, Violet ushered in three young maids in black dresses, white aprons and starched white headdresses. All were carrying trays laden with dressed crab arranged in well-scrubbed crab shells, decorated on top with sprigs of parsley. The trays were placed on two empty sideboards. The crab was served by two of the maids. The third maid carried around a large platter of sliced brown bread, already buttered.

Violet and one of the maids filled the crystal goblets with white wine, while another poured the water into silver beakers.

Natalie was seated on James’s right. When the food had been served, she touched his arm. She said, ‘I’m going to Hull on Friday. I wondered if you could come up. I have an idea.’

‘What do you mean?’ he interrupted, staring at her intently.

‘Have you ever thought about Hull? As a way to start out, I mean. With a little shop, a beginning …’

He was startled and, for a moment, he couldn’t answer. Then he shook his head. ‘Aren’t you the one? Looking out for me all the time—’