The Ravenscar Dynasty by Barbara Taylor Bradford Page A

right up to the first floor.’
    â€˜Thank you, Johnson,’ Edward answered, giving the commissionnaire a warm smile. ‘And how is your son doing? The last time we spoke he was joining the Indian Army.’
    Flattered that Edward had recalled their last conversation, he nodded, smiling with real pleasure. ‘Very well, sir, thank you. Good of you to remember my Jack, sir.’
    Edward inclined his head slightly and he and Neville headed towards the wide, double staircase of carved mahogany that floated upward to a wide landing at the top.
    The two men climbed the stairs to the first floor where the executive offices were located, aligned along a wide corridor which ended at the giant double doors leading into the company’s board room. Edward thought of that room now…As a small boy he had often wished he would one day dominate that room when he grew up. He felt a sudden, peculiar sinking feeling inside as he saw his father’s office in his mind’s eye. He was not quite certain that he could face going in there today, although perhaps he should. Putting it off was ridiculous, wasn’t it? Nonetheless, he baulked at the idea. It smacked of memories and more pain.
    Halfway up the red-carpeted stairs, Neville paused, his hand resting on the mahogany banister. ‘Once the greetings are over I think it would be wise to move right in with your questions, Ned. Let us avoid procrastination. You know how Aubrey Masters can be.’

    â€˜Long-winded, to put it mildly,’ Edward answered. ‘And you don’t have cause for concern. I’m as impatient as you are to get to the bottom of this situation. Let us hope he can supply some of the more important details, give us satisfactory answers. After all, he is the one dealing with Italy.’
    Neville nodded and the two continued on up the stairs. They were both anxious, filled with apprehension; they dreaded what they would soon learn about the deaths of their loved ones, and the terrible way they had died in the fire. Although they had not discussed it with each other, both men realized it must have been a brutal and terrifying way to die.
    The two staircases came to a stop at the wide landing, more like a room in size and shape. Placed in the centre of this space was a large desk and behind it sat an attractive young woman in a black, long-skirted suit and white blouse.
    She glanced up as Edward and Neville approached the desk; her eyes automatically shifted, swung to Edward, whom she recognized at once.
    â€˜Oh, Mr Edward, good morning,’ she murmured, offering him a small, half smile. She wanted to say something about his father’s death but knew it would be improper to make any kind of personal remark to him. It was not her place.
    â€˜Good morning, Matilda. This is Mr Watkins. We’re here to see Mr Masters.’
    She inclined her head in Neville’s direction, acknowledging him, and then stood up. ‘I’ll let Mr Masters know you’re here, sir.’ She hurried off down the corridor.
    Edward and Neville took off their overcoats and hungthem in the coat cupboard, and a moment later Matilda was back.
    â€˜Mr Masters will see you immediately,’ she said, and led them down the corridor, ushered them into an office and closed the door behind them.
    Aubrey Masters came around the desk to greet Edward and Neville. He was a fussy, small, somewhat rotund man in his late forties, dark haired with a florid complexion and brown eyes set close together.
    Hurrying forward, grasping Edward’s hand, he exclaimed, ‘Mr Edward, come in, come in, and sit down!’ Turning to Neville, he shook his hand also, and indicated the other chair in front of the desk. ‘Welcome to Deravenels, Mr Watkins. It’s some time since you’ve been here. Over a year, if I recall correctly.’
    â€˜That’s true,’ Neville responded and lowered himself into the chair. His gaze remained on Aubrey