Dangerous Inheritance by Dennis Wheatley

affable. Rajapakse had expected violent opposition; but he did not resort to belligerence. He said with urbane and self-confident courtesy:
    â€˜Sir, I owe you a profound apology. Before asking Fleur to become my wife I should have asked if you would be willing to accept me as a son-in-law.’
    Richard smiled. ‘Then I’ll credit you with the intention; although in these days it doesn’t even seem to occur to most young men to ask the parents’ consent before proposing to their daughter. But are you quite sure that it’s really a good idea that you and Fleur should marry? After all, you’ve known one another only about ten days.’
    â€˜Those days, sir, we have spent together. The time was ample for us to realise how much we mean to one another. Perhaps you are unaware of it, but on Saturday we spent the day alone in a sailing boat. It was then we opened our hearts. I did not exactly propose to Fleur. I only told her that I felt a deeper love for her than for any woman I had ever met. And I suggested that she should come out to Ceylon to stay with my parents. But I did make it clear that if she then liked our way of life, and saw more of me in my normal surroundings, I hoped that she would decide to remain there as my wife.’
    â€˜That was fair enough,’ Richard commented. ‘In fact, entirely honourable. The only thing that worries me and my wife is the question of your being, well… of such completely different races and cultures. I find it difficult to believe that such a union could turn out happily.’
    Forgive me again if I mention that the élite families of the Sinhalese, such as mine, enjoyed poetry and discussed philosophy,possessed libraries, dressed in fine raiment and took a bath daily, when yours were still painting themselves with woad. What I would like to say is that, apart from my love for Fleur, I can offer her more than most Englishmen can in these days. My firm is an old-established and prosperous one. My father is a wealthy man. I am his only son and shall come into his fortune when he dies. Fleur will live in a large house with every comfort. It contains many fine examples of Eastern art and has a pleasant garden. We should also go to a bungalow up in the highlands at Nuwara Eliya, where Fleur would live in pleasant conditions during the great heats. In Ceylon we have never had a colour-bar, and I have many European friends; so she would not be cut off from white society. She could have as many servants as she liked; which means that she would have plenty of free time to give to the work of Family Planning that she is so eager to take up. And, of course, while in Colombo there is dancing, tennis and wonderful bathing, which she would have ample time to enjoy.’
    â€˜Then you are right,’ Richard nodded. ‘That sounds a much more pleasant life than most young women in England can look forward to when they marry. Well, there it is. The only thingmy wife and I are concerned about is Fleur’s happiness; and if you are both set on marrying we must hope that it will work out.’
    When Richard told Marie Lou of this conversation, she said, ‘It all sounds marvellous, but for one thing. There is no getting over the fact that he is an Asiatic. They are different from us. As different as chalk from cheese. For a while, of course, they will be turtle doves and Fleur will cheerfully put up with all sorts of little things that she would otherwise resent. Then she’ll begin to kick, then there will be trouble. She will become miserable and, as the wife of an Asiatic, she’ll be no more than his chattel. Even if he sets her free, what then? The type of man we’d like her to marry is going to think twice before he takes on the cast-off of a coloured man. It’s no good my talking to her, but I’m going to stop it if I can. I’ll go and talk to Greyeyes. He’s such a shrewd old darling, he may be able to suggest