Tommy glared at her, then turned to Vincent. “As you’ve so kindly brought us up to the present, Mr. Dalrymple, I don’t believe we need keep you any longer. You have other business in London, I gather.”
“Nothing more important than this.” Vincent rose reluctantly. “If you have any more questions, Mrs. Fletcher—”
“They can wait until you meet at Fairacres in August,” Tommy interrupted. “Should you receive further documents from your relatives in France, Mr. Dalrymple, no doubt you’ll be in touch, and naturally I’ll let you know of any developments that affect your position. Thank you for sparing the time for this meeting.”
“Oh, my time’s mostly my own these days. Good-bye, Mrs. Fletcher.”
Daisy smiled at him and offered her hand. “Good-bye, Cousin Vincent. I look forward to seeing you at Fairacres.”
He flushed—with gratification, she hoped—but before he could speak, Tommy bustled him out.
Returning, Tommy closed the door firmly behind him and hissed, “‘Cousin Vincent’! There’s no proof that he’s descended from Julian Dalrymple.”
“I can always uncousin him,” said Daisy, unrepentant. “Anyway, if he turns out to be a fraud, I won’t be seeing him again.”
“It’s going to be that much harder to prove fraud now that he can trot out the Petries! He’d obviously never heard of them.”
“I’m sorry about that. It slipped out before I realised it might give him information he didn’t already have. Do you think he’s a fraud?”
“At this stage, I’d need a crystal ball—”
“I think he’s real, though he may turn out not to be the eldest. I mean, his grandfather may not have been Julian’s eldest son. Show me his papers. Perhaps they’ll spark an idea.”
“Heaven preserve me from your ideas,” Tommy muttered.
Daisy pretended not to hear. She pulled up her chair to the desk and Tommy set the documents before her. There were four: three certified copies of entries in the national registry at Somerset House, and a letter in French, in crabbed, elderly handwriting.
The first was the notice of Vincent’s birth, at the Castle Cliff Hotel in Scarborough in 1885. His baptismal names were Vincent Vallier. His father was George (also known as Georges) Vallier Dalrymple, his mother Amanda Rosemary Dalrymple, formerly White. George’s profession was given as hotelier.
“So far, so good,” Daisy observed, picking up the second paper.
It was George and Amanda’s marriage certificate, Scarborough, 1883. George had been twenty-two, Amanda twenty-seven at the time, assistant hotel manager and hotel housekeeper respectively. George’s father was Timothy Dalrymple; Amanda’s, Frederick White, both hoteliers.
“Gosh, all the family are really dedicated to the hotel business! What’s this? Timothy’s death notice. 1901, age: ‘elderly’! I wonder why he wouldn’t tell his son how old he was, or do you think he genuinely forgot? It must have been fearfully disorientating being sent away from home, from Jamaica to France. I wonder whether he even spoke French when he arrived. He could have learnt from his mother. Perhaps the Valliers didn’t care about his age, just put him to work.”
“We’re unlikely ever to know the attitude to birthdays of the Valliers of the time, though we may eventually find out his date of birth. Here’s Vincent’s marriage certificate.”
“1912, to Laurette Vallier. Some sort of cousin presumably, keeping the business in the family. What’s this?” She peered at the last document. Her knowledge of French wasn’t bad but the handwriting looked a bit like her own shorthand hieroglyphics. It had an impressive seal, though.
“A notarised affidavit from the present clergyman of the church where Timothy Dalrymple married Jeanette Desrochers, and George was baptised. It’s a small Protestant church that was badly damaged in 1870. Vincent got the present Valliers to dig through the remains of the old records. They were pretty well scorched, but books don’t burn easily. Enough of it is readable, apparently, to be certain that they actually were married, but that’s about all. The rest is gone. George’s legitimacy is proven, at least.”
“Aren’t there civil records?”
“A large part of the Paris civil registry was destroyed when the Jerries invaded.”
At least the family tree for this branch was slightly less sketchy:
Julian m. Marie-Claire Vallier
Timothy George Dalrymple (d. 1901) m. Jeanette Desrochers
George Vallier Dalrymple m. (1883) Amanda Rosemary White
Vincent Vallier Dalrymple (b. 1885) m. Laurette Vallier