“And the Frampton Sapphires,” Antoinette added. “Don’t forget them.”
Margaret nearly spilled her sherry. “What did you say?”
“The Frampton Sapphires. George left them to Phaedra.”
“He can’t have done! Are you certain? Those jewels must stay in the family!”
“Phaedra is family,” Antoinette insisted.
“I don’t believe it!” The old lady’s face reddened to the color of a beetroot.
“It’s true, Margaret. Roberta’s very upset about it.”
“I should think so! George was going to leave them to David.”
“Roberta was under the impression that he was going to leave them to Joshua,” said Antoinette.
“Rubbish!” Margaret snapped. “They go to the eldest son: everyone knows that. Roberta likes to borrow them, which is perfectly fine, but there’s no question of their being given to anyone but David.”
“Well, he’s left them to Phaedra.”
“It’s outrageous. I wonder why Roberta never mentioned it to me. We had a long talk this morning.”
“I don’t suppose she mentioned her appalling behavior at the reading of the will, either?”
Margaret frowned. “No, she didn’t mention that.”
“She behaved very badly, Margaret. I was embarrassed.”
The old lady drained her glass and put it down on the sofa table beside her chair. She suddenly looked defeated. “What was George thinking?”
Antoinette couldn’t answer that. She didn’t know, either.
“Oh dear, how are you going to prevent Margaret from muscling in this weekend?” Rosamunde asked once she had gone.
“I don’t think I can. She’s never waited for an invitation to come here, but barges in whenever she feels like it. I’m afraid there’s no keeping her away. Phaedra will just have to deal with it.”
“Well, the girl has nothing to hide. It’s all out in the open now, isn’t it?”
“Exactly. Perhaps she’ll want to share the details of how she found him and how they built their relationship after so many years. We’re probably fussing about nothing.”
Rosamunde grinned. “Margaret is the girl’s grandmother.”
“Poor child. One can’t pick one’s relations.”
“I bet she didn’t anticipate her when she went in search of her father.”
“Goodness no, one simply couldn’t conjure up a woman like Margaret, even if one strained one’s imagination.”
“Oh, I don’t think one has to strain one’s imagination too much. It’s all there in folklore and fiction: The Wizard of Oz, Cinderella, 101 Dalmatians, Hansel and Gretel, to name just a few.”
“You are wicked,” Antoinette laughed.
“Oh yes, there are Margarets everywhere,” said Rosamunde.
* * *
On Friday morning Phaedra packed her weekend bag with some trepidation. She laid a light floral dress on the bed and teamed it up with a pair of scarlet pumps and black tights, in case she needed to be elegant on Saturday night. She wasn’t exactly sure what was expected, never having been to stay in a grand English country house before. She rummaged through the suitcase she had already packed for her return to Paris and pulled out a bright-green cardigan, black lace-up ankle boots, a flowery blouse, and burgundy woolen tights. She suspected her attire would be unsuitable, but she had nothing of the country tweeds and corduroy she’d seen in magazines and movies.
Since meeting David she felt somewhat reassured. She imagined the rest of his family must be as nice as him. Antoinette had sounded very warm on the telephone, quite different from the woman she had encountered at the funeral. But that wasn’t a surprise; Phaedra had just hit her with the most terrible revelation at the worst possible time. She still cringed at the thought. It would be nice to meet them under less stressful circumstances.
However, she hoped no one would bring up the subject of George’s will. It was incredibly embarrassing that he had given her so much, not to mention the Frampton Sapphires. When Julius had informed her they were now hers, she had nearly fainted with shame, for she knew why he had given them to her, and she didn’t want them. Besides the fact that she wasn’t the type to wear jewelry, they were somehow tainted, wrapped as they were in guilt. Had he really thought it through, she was sure he would never have been so impulsive.
Julius had told her that the sapphires had been bought in India by the first Lord Frampton, who was governor general in 1838, and handed down from generation to generation. There was a large portrait of his wife, Theodora, the first Lady Frampton, in the hall at Fairfield Park, dazzling in the exquisitely crafted diamond and sapphire necklace, earrings, and bracelet. Julius had gone quite puce in the face when he had described them. Phaedra didn’t care much for jewelry but Julius had insisted that no woman, however modest, could resist them.