Bloodline Sidney Sheldon

Years ago, when Elizabeth was spending a weekend in their country home in Gloucestershire, she went on a picnic by herself. It had begun to rain, and she had returned to the house early. She had gone in the back door, and as she had started down the hallway, she had heard voices from the study, raised in a quarrel.

“I’m damned tired of playing nursemaid,” Vivian was saying. “You can take your precious little cousin and amuse her yourself tonight. I’m going up to London. I have an engagement.”

“Surely you can cancel it, Viv. The child is only going to be with us another day, and she—”

“Sorry, Alec. I feel like a good fuck, and I’m getting one tonight.”

“For God’s sake, Vivian!”

“Oh, shove it up your ass! Don’t try to live my life for me.”

At that moment, before Elizabeth could move, Vivian had stormed out of the study. She had taken one quick look at Elizabeth’s stricken face, and said cheerily, “Back so soon, pet?” And strode upstairs.

Alec had come to the doorway. He had said gently, “Come in, Elizabeth.”

Reluctantly she had walked into the study. Alec’s face was aflame with embarrassment. Elizabeth had wanted desperately to comfort him, but she did not know how. Alec had walked over to a large refectory table, picked up a pipe, filled it with tobacco and lit it. It had seemed to Elizabeth that he took forever.

“You must understand Vivian.”

Elizabeth had replied, “Alec, it’s none of my business. I—”

“But in a sense it is. We’re all family. I don’t want you to think harshly of her.”

Elizabeth could not believe it. After the incredible scene she had just heard, Alec was defending his wife.

“Sometimes in a marriage,” Alec had continued, “a husband and a wife have different needs.” He had paused awkwardly, searching for the right phrase. “I don’t want you to blame Vivian because I—I can’t fulfill some of those needs. That’s not her fault, you see.”

Elizabeth had not been able to stop herself. “Does—does she go out with other men often?”

“I’m rather afraid she does.”

Elizabeth had been horrified. “Why don’t you leave her?”

He had given her his gentle smile. “I can’t leave her, dear child. You see, I love her.”

The next day Elizabeth had returned to school. From that time on, she had felt closer to Alec than to any of the others.

 

 

Of late, Elizabeth had become concerned about her father. He seemed preoccupied and worried about something, but Elizabeth had no idea what it was. When she asked him about it, he replied, “Just a little problem I have to clear up. I’ll tell you about it later.”

He had become secretive, and Elizabeth no longer had access to his private papers. When he had said to her, “I’m leaving tomorrow for Chamonix to do a little mountain climbing,” Elizabeth had been pleased. She knew he needed a rest. He had lost weight and had become pale and drawn-looking.

“I’ll make the reservations for you,” Elizabeth had said.

“Don’t bother. They’re already made.”

That, too, was unlike him. He had left for Chamonix the next morning. That was the last time she had seen him. The last time she would ever see him…

 

 

Elizabeth lay there in her darkened bedroom, remembering the past. There was an unreality about her father’s death, perhaps because he had been so alive.

He was the last to bear the name of Roffe. Except for her. What would happen to the company now? Her father had held the controlling interest. She wondered to whom he had left the stock.

Elizabeth learned the answer late the next afternoon. Sam’s lawyer had appeared at the house. “I brought a copy of your father’s will with me. I hate to intrude on your grief at a time like this, but I thought it best that you know at once. You are your father’s sole beneficiary. That means that the controlling shares of Roffe and Sons are in your hands.”

Elizabeth could not believe it. Surely he did not expect her to run the company. “Why?” she asked. “Why me?”