The Legacy Read Online Free Page B

to behave like that. It’s unbalanced, disgraceful. What was that last exchange between you?’
    â€˜Nothing,’ Christina answered. ‘It doesn’t matter. It’s over and he’s gone.’ James was beside her then.
    â€˜I don’t know what to say either,’ he said. ‘Except thank you. Father wasn’t ever very close to me; I know I have you to thank for Langley Farm. It’s a very generous legacy.’
    â€˜It was nothing to do with me,’ she said. ‘Nothing. I didn’t even know he’d left it to you. All I knew was he wanted Lindy to have the house. I never even saw the will. I don’t expect you to believe me.’
    â€˜If you say so, I do,’ James insisted. She knew he would never have said that in Alan’s hearing. Neutral at best, Richard had described him, weak at worst. I could never look to him for support. You won’t be able to either …
    She suddenly felt exhausted, and her eyes filled with tears. Stone said gently, ‘You sit here quietly, Mrs Farrington. I’ll bring you a cup of tea. That was dreadful for you, dreadful.’ He was really shocked and angry.
    â€˜No, don’t bother about tea. I must go and see people and thank them for coming. James, take Mr Stone into the drawing-room, will you? I’ll come in a few minutes.’ When they had gone, she went to the window and stood looking out, seeing nothing. If she gave in now, she’d never find the strength to go in and face their friends, to thank them for coming, listen to them offering sympathy and help, saying nice things about her husband. She opened the window, as if she could expel the hate and threat that hung in the air like a miasma. Green parkland, glorious trees in full summer leaf. The sounds of summer, bees, the scent from the massive magnolia that climbed the wall of that side of the house. So much beauty, tranquillity and certainty, enriched by its long history. It had become part of her now, as if she had been born to it, instead of coming as a stranger from a foreign country. She had learned new ways, new values, spoken and thought in a language that wasn’t her own for so long it had shocked her to hear Swedish spoken. She loved RussMore; it would always be part of her memories of Richard and their life together. And of the child, Belinda, given the Farrington family names. Her father’s treasure in his later years. She heard a noise behind her. It was James.
    â€˜I came to see if you were all right,’ he said. ‘People are asking for you.’ Neutral at best; weak at worst . Stamped and labelled for ever by those words. He said simply, ‘I heard what he said. I am so sorry. But he means it, Christa; he’ll go to the wire, I know him. I wish I could do something to stop him, but I know he wouldn’t listen. He thinks I sold out, so he’ll never forgive me either.’
    â€˜You’ll mind that, won’t you?’ she asked him. He shrugged. ‘I suppose so. The elder brother syndrome dies hard. I always looked up to him. He stood his ground with Father, I never could; I admired that. I was shit-scared of him; shit-scared of Father too … I’m not a fighter, more like poor Mother. That’s Alan’s trouble, you know: he loved her; he couldn’t accept it when she died, it turned him inside out.’
    Christina said slowly, ‘I wish I’d talked to you about it all before, James. We never had the chance.’
    â€˜Father wouldn’t have liked it,’ he said. ‘He didn’t think much of me and he was so possessive of you. I used to come over and see him, but I always felt he was glad to see me go.’
    â€˜He wasn’t really,’ she said. ‘He was hurt because you didn’t come more often or stay longer. What a miserable misunderstanding it’s been. James, I’m so worried about Lindy.’
    â€˜You can pass it off,’ he said.