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Knowing him as she did, she knew that the sentiments he was expressing, the passionate desire to preserve a place of local heritage and importance, the calm, skilful questioning of how far they could trust local officials who had unadmitted interests that ran counter to their duty to protect the local environment, were totally alien to Nick’s conception of life.
Someone else had put those words in his mouth, those ideals… those morals. But who, and why?
Nick’s motivation Fern already understood. She had recognised it immediately she saw him taking the stage. Although Adam had never actually been mentioned by name, no one in the hall, least of all herself, had any doubt that it was Adam whose morals and honesty were under discussion.
Nick was very careful, of course… no one would be able to lay any charges against him, any accusations, either legal or moral. Whoever had written his speech for him had seen to that, and as she listened… and watched, Fern could see that what he was saying was finding a positive response with far more people than she would have expected.
And it was partially her fault. She had been the one who had supplied Venice with the information about Gertrude Jekyll’s plans for the gardens, even if only accidentally, and she had also been guilty of doubting Adam herself; but standing here tonight listening to Nick, watching the faces of those around her, she knew she had been wrong to do so. Whatever Adam’s involvement with Broughton House, whatever his motivation, there could be nothing dishonest or underhand about them.
Sick at heart, she slipped out of the hall before the meeting had ended, acknowledging that if she could so easily have doubted Adam initially, then how could she blame others for also doing so?
Tonight Nick had been a powerful and convincing orator, and even if she had got up on the stage herself and revealed to everyone listening how much Nick hated his stepbrother, how much ill will and malice he bore him, she knew that very few of them would have believed her.
* * *
Standing in the darkness a few feet away from the door, Adam watched her go. Like Fern, he had been late in arriving at the meeting, primarily because of the meeting he had had with Clive earlier in the day.
He frowned. It had been unfortunate that Clive had arrived early and prevented him from catching up with Fern.
It has been a shock to come back from a business trip up to Gloucestershire to hear the gossip about the break-up of her marriage. He knew how she must be feeling… how much she loved Nick. Did she still love him as intensely, as protectively now that he had left her to go and live openly with another woman, publicly humiliating her? Of course she did. She was that kind of woman.
He wondered if she herself had heard what people were saying… about the way Nick was claiming to have struggled to make the marriage work for some time, but that Fern had been uninterested and unresponsive… ‘More interested in being a housekeeper than a wife… a woman,’ had been one of the criticisms Adam had overheard.
Had Venice been responsible for that, just as she most undoubtedly had been responsible for this evening’s metamorphosis of Nick into a caring, concerned environmentalist, passionately protective of local heritage?
Nick’s less than subtle attack on himself had not escaped Adam’s attention, but he was not overly concerned about it. If people wanted him to step down from the local council then he was quite prepared to do so. He had never seen
his role there as some kind of perk-laden privilege to be abused for his own advantage, but rather a form of public duty and responsibility, and with the growth of his architectural practice he was finding it increasingly difficult to find time for everything he wanted to do. He was not going to be drawn into having a public quarrel with Nick, as he knew his stepbrother would have liked. He knew Nick far too well to allow him to goad him into lowering himself to match Nick’s standards. He would have to do something, of course, take some kind of action to ensure that Nick and everyone else realised that he wasn’t going to allow Nick to get away with attempting to damage his reputation and question his honesty, but that would have to wait; right now he had far more important and more personal matters on his mind.
This last month’s holiday with the Jameses had been time he had ill been able to afford to spare, but Lily’s father had wanted to consult him about building a second villa on the plot of land he owned in Italy, and if it came to fruition it would be an interesting commission.
Just as Clive’s proposals for the conversion of Broughton House would have been, but as Adam had warned Clive right from the start, he did not think he could morally advise Clive to go ahead when he himself felt that it would spoil the ambience and character of Broughton House to extend it as he wished.
It had been a difficult decision to reach. The house would ultimately be sold, perhaps to some speculative builder who would hold on to it, hoping ultimately to get planning permission for its wholesale destruction. At least Clive had intended to maintain the existing house and the gardens. And of course there had been the added issue of the extra business the proposed hotel and restaurant would bring in to the area.
Business and jobs. But in the end Adam had had to inform Clive that he felt he could not justify supporting any plans which would change the character of the house, and that even if as a councillor he abstained from voting on such planning permission, he still could not recommend to Clive as a client that he go ahead with costly plans making a bid for a property which he might then find had become useless to him when he was unable to get the necessary planning permission.
Clive had thanked him for his honesty, telling him ruefully that he had begun to have his own doubts about the project.
‘Without any clear end to the recession, I’m not sure it would be wise to go in for such an ambitious scheme just at the moment.’
‘Mmm…’ Adam had agreed. ‘Quite a lot of recently opened country house hotels appear to be in financial difficulties, some to the extent of having to call in the receivers…’
They had parted amicably, but too late for Adam to make the beginning of the meeting.
And now, as he listened to Nick bringing his speech to an end, his mind was not on his stepbrother but on Fern.
She had looked very distressed as she left the hall… very distressed and very alone, and no one had thought to go with her. She shouldn’t be alone at a time like this… he knew how vulnerable she was, how hurt and alone she must feel. She would not want his comfort, of course… she would probably be afraid that he might… of a repeat of…
Even so he could not bear to think of her on her own, in that house she had shared with his wretched stepbrother, believing even in the face of all the evidence to the contrary that Nick loved her.
Or had she perhaps known the truth but decided to ignore it, hoping… praying that her love for him would be enough to carry the marriage?
Silently he walked out into the night. His car wasn’t parked very far away…
* * *
When Fern heard the knock on the door she went to answer it automatically, too stunned by the sight of Adam standing there on the doorstep to do anything to stop him when he walked in past her.
