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A good deal of persuasion had been required if Cecilia’s sullen expression was anything to go by.
Drops of rain had started falling again and Rosie pulled up her hood. ‘I’m grateful that Driftwood House is saved, I truly am, but the land you’re considering instead is a part of Meadowsweet Farm, and taking that land back will destroy a man’s livelihood.’
Charles regarded her coolly. ‘It’s a sound economic decision and nothing personal.’
‘It’s very personal. Don’t you care about the people whose lives your decisions affect?’
‘No one lives on the land we’re now considering for the hotel. No homes will be demolished.’
‘A livelihood will be wrecked. Liam Satterley and his parents rent the land from you and their farm will probably go under without it.’
A muscle twitched below Charles’s left eye. ‘That’s unfortunate.’
‘Unfortunate? Surely it’s more than that if a farm that’s been run by the same family for generations has to fold and a man – a good man – will have no income to keep a roof over their heads. The people in Heaven’s Cove matter.’
‘As I say, it’s an unfortunate consequence of business, and it’s best not to become over emotional about these matters.’
The heavens had opened but Rosie – cold, tired and overwhelmed – hardly noticed the rain driving against her face.
‘Was it also an unfortunate consequence whenmy mum became pregnant with me? Is that why you abandoned her? You stick rigidly to your rule of alwaysdoing the right thingbut it seems to me that you end up doing the wrong thing instead. And you’re so hard-hearted you don’t care anything for Heaven’s Cove. I’m glad my mum married David. He was a better dad than you would ever have been. So I don’t care if you think I’m a chancer who’s making everything up. I don’t care if you’re sure that I’m not your daughter.’
‘Oh, I’m not sure about that at all.’ His words were so quiet, Rosie almost missed them. But Cecilia didn’t.
She grabbed his arm. ‘Be quiet, Charles. What are you saying?’
‘I’m merely acknowledging that it’s not beyond the realms of possibility that this young woman is my daughter.’
‘She doesn’t look like you.’
‘Not particularly, but, I’ve been thinking…’ He paused, rain dripping from the hood of his jacket and down his nose. ‘Come with me.’
Neither Rosie nor Cecilia could keep up as Charles rushed towards the house, taking one loping stride for every two of theirs. He led them through the back gate, past a huge herb garden, and through a door into a large, modern kitchen.
A woman kneading bread on the worktop looked up in alarm when they all bundled inside, and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. A smudge of flour settled above her dark eyebrows. ‘Is everything all right, Mr Epping?’
‘Yes, thank you, Maria.’
The air was full of the sweet smell of cakes baking in the huge range oven and steam was rising from a pot bubbling on the hob. The Eppings were so rich and posh they had a housekeeperanda cook.
Rosie stood in the doorway like a statue. What was the point of being here? Charles was easing his conscience by saving Driftwood House and didn’t care about Liam’s farm. He would throw a family farm and a good man to the wolves purely for the sake of profit.
But Cecilia hissed, ‘Not here,’ in her ear and, grabbing her arm, propelled her through the kitchen. Charles was marching along a corridor, past a dark drawing room with deep green wallpaper and shelves of books. Finally, he flung open the door to the sitting room that Rosie had been in during her last visit. Rain was battering at the French windows and the garden outside looked wet and grey.
‘Stand there,’ Charles ordered Rosie.
When she didn’t move, he took her arm and positioned her in front of the fireplace, touching her face to gently turn her chin towards the garden.
‘Jay, what are you doing?’ Cecilia really did seem scared now.
‘Tell me what you see.’
Cecilia looked at Rosie and then stared at the huge portrait above her head. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Look again,’ said Charles, sounding unutterably tired. ‘The set of the chin, the shape of the mouth, the fire in the eyes. They’re the same.’
‘I know you still miss Evelyn but this isn’t the way to get her back.’
‘Don’t you think I know that, Cecilia? Maybe I’m only seeing what I want to see. That’s why I’ve tried to ignore this nagging feeling and not revisit the past, but what would Evelyn think of me?’
