Master of His Fate: The gripping new Victorian epic from the author of A Woman of Substance

‘And I would like yours.’

‘What about?’

‘A woman.’

It was obvious from his expression that Reginald was taken aback. ‘What kind of woman?’

‘I’m not sure I know how to answer that, Reggie.’

‘Well, what I mean is, are you interested in a woman with whom to have a friendship, one of those lovely ladies who accompany you to events? Or are you speaking about a woman with whom you wish to be … well … intimate?

‘Neither.’

‘Oh, I see,’ Reginald began, and stopped abruptly when Bloom came in carrying a silver tray, followed by a footman with a silver bucket containing a bottle of Dom Pérignon.

Once the champagne had been poured into crystal flutes, and the caviar passed to the two men, the butler and the footman took their leave.

After clinking glasses, Reginald said, ‘Do you realize you’ve never discussed women with me since we were very young men – fifteen, or thereabouts? So naturally I’m a bit surprised. Who is she?’

‘A woman I met today. This afternoon, and very briefly. I must see her again.’

‘And you knew at once?’ Reginald asked, his surprise obvious in his tone of voice.

‘I did. It was the most extraordinary thing. I was instantly struck by her looks, bowled over really. So much so, that even Claudia noticed and was taken aback.’

‘She was with you at the time?’

‘Yes. She had been at a ladies’ tea with some other women, at Delia’s. A meeting to do with a charity they are involved with. I went to fetch her, so she could accompany me to my sister’s house, and the woman was with Claudia when they left.’

‘And what did Claudia say to you?’

‘She didn’t say anything until much later, after we had left my sister’s, when she mentioned that I’d had a strong reaction to her companion. She asked me why.’

‘And you told her what?’

‘That I wasn’t sure. But I’d had a rush of feelings: excitement, a sense of need, perhaps desire. Claudia told me I had appeared to be mesmerized.’

‘Mesmerized. That’s a strong word, old chap.’

‘I said I’d felt blinded, conscious only of her. Anyway, she’s in my head, Reggie, and I can’t wait to see her again. Only then will I understand myself, my reaction to her.’

‘She must be quite a stunner to affect you in this way. I know it’s not happened to you before. You would have told me, wouldn’t you?’ Reginald raised a brow quizzically.

‘Of course.’ Sebastian took a sip of champagne. ‘I’ve never had any secrets from you.’

‘So who is this woman who has you so rattled? What’s her name?’

‘Alexis. Alexis Malvern.’

Reginald gaped at him, stunned into silence. After a split second, he exclaimed, ‘There can’t be two women with that name. You must be referring to Henry Malvern’s daughter, aren’t you?’

‘I am indeed. Do you know him?’

‘He’s a member of one of our clubs, Savile’s. And we chat occasionally, but I can’t say I know him well. He’s a powerful man, very wealthy, and all of his businesses are extremely successful.’ Reginald chuckled. ‘It is well known that his daughter is his only child and heir. She works in his business, but then I’m sure you know that.’

‘I had heard of her, and her business acumen. However, she is also extremely beautiful. And she is a mere twenty-five.’ Sebastian grimaced. ‘Too young for me, I think.’

‘No, not at all. You’re only forty. I would certainly like to meet her.’

‘Glad to hear that, Reggie. Claudia is planning to give a small supper here next week. We hoped you and Jane would accept our invitation.’

‘Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.’ Reginald lifted his flute of champagne and took a sip.

ELEVEN (#ulink_11f41797-400f-5af7-9744-87d826769b07)

James Lionel Falconer was now seventeen and a striking young man, not only because of his chiselled good looks, fair complexion and deep blue eyes, but because of his height. He was just under six feet.

None of the other Falconers was as tall, and, in fact, most people in general were much shorter than him.

Aside from these physical assets, he was naturally charming, had a congenial nature, and was also thoughtful to others, and kind. He owed these latter traits to his grandmother, Esther, who had taught him a lot of things when he was young. She had made sure he had excellent manners and behaved with politeness and decorum at all times. And to everyone, whoever the person was.

As she looked across the Falconers’ kitchen at him, Esther felt a swell of pride. There was no one quite like James that she knew of, anyway, and that included the children of her employers, Lady Agatha and the Honourable Mister, as her husband called Arthur Montague. To Esther, her grandson was quite unique, but then they had tried to give him the best of everything to ensure that he could follow his dream. James was as ambitious and driven as ever, and looked to the future with great hope. Esther did not worry. He was going places. It had been ordained.

As if he was aware she was staring at him, James swung his head and smiled at her. ‘Uncle Harry’s doing very well here, Grans. He’s the best chef around.’

‘I know that,’ Esther answered, laughter in her voice. ‘I taught him, you know.’

Harry said, ‘That’s why I will be forever grateful to you, Ma. For putting me on the right track when I was a little boy. And one day I’ll have my own restaurant, you’ll see.’

‘You’re not doing so badly now, Harry,’ Esther pointed out. ‘You have a very nice little café in Marylebone, and it’s been successful ever since you started making snacks to go with the coffee.’

Harry nodded. ‘It’s still really only a coffee shop, though; not really a café, even.’

‘The right time will come,’ Esther said, and looked down at the fine cotton shirt she was making for James, and plied her needle once more.

Rossi, now fifteen, was sitting beside her doing exactly the same thing. She said, ‘I agree with Grandma. I know we’ll enjoy the supper tonight. Everything smells delicious, Uncle Harry.’

He waved the wooden spoon in the air, laughing. He was intent on a pot on the range. ‘Thanks, Rossi,’ he answered without turning his head, concentrating on the food on the stove, stirring the pot.

Harry, with James as helper, was preparing supper at his brother Matt’s house in Camden. It had become a ritual in the summer: Saturday night supper for the entire family cooked by Harry.

July, August and September were the months that Lady Agatha, her husband and two younger children were on their annual sojourn in France, and sometimes Italy. Their absence meant that Philip and Esther were free to join them.

It was looked upon as a special family affair; the supper gave them a chance to catch up on things and enjoy each other’s company. George, the middle brother, usually arrived a bit late; he was working on a newspaper these days and often had to do Saturday duty. But he always made it in time for the second course.

After looking in the oven, peering at the leg of lamb, basting it, Harry asked James to start making the mint sauce. ‘And mind you chop the mint very fine,’ he added, glancing at his nephew. ‘Then you can start preparing the base for the gravy, please. The ingredients are next to that basin over there.’

A moment later, Maude walked into the kitchen, thinking how welcoming it looked with the fire blazing up the chimney, but the light in general was a bit dim.