Page 14 of The Granddaughter's Irish Secret
‘But you just said we shouldn’t let on what I want to do,’ Rose cut in. ‘You seemed to be on my side.’
‘I am, darling,’ Sylvia soothed. ‘I want to go ahead with both your and Lily’s plans. But I know we have to be diplomatic and not show all our cards at once. Not because I think Henri is bad person, but because he wants to call all the shots. That’s something we won’t be able to change. So we just have to be clever about it and not let on what we want until we get support from the other board members. That’s all.’
‘And the key to the storeroom?’ Rose asked.
‘I’ll get it for you,’ Sylvia promised. ‘And Henri shouldn’t be allowed to behave so badly.’
‘No he shouldn’t,’ Rose said with feeling. ‘He gets away with a lot around here, it seems. And all that flirting gets on my nerves.’
‘French men flirt all the time,’ Sylvia said with an amused smile.
‘Does Arnaud?’
‘Arnaud would flirt with a rock, given the chance. I find it funny. My friends find him adorable because he kisses their hands and tells them they look wonderful. It’s just his way.’
‘I suppose that’s kind of sweet at his age,’ Rose agreed. ‘But not with someone of my generation.’ She got up. ‘Now I’m going home. Let me know when you get the key to the storeroom. I’d love to have a little root around and see if I can find anything interesting.’
‘Oh, there’s lots to discover there,’ Sylvia said. ‘But I wouldn’t want anything bad to come out. Some of the Fleurys weren’t on their best behaviour at times.’
Rose laughed. ‘Ah, but they are the more interesting ancestors. Like Maria Fleury, for instance.’
‘She was very ordinary,’ Sylvia said. ‘The model of good behaviour. But her children were quite badly behaved at times.’
Rose stopped on her way to the door. ‘Who were her children?’
‘Your great-grandfather Cornelius,’ Sylvia remarked. ‘We all know what he got up to.’
‘We certainly do,’ Rose said.
‘Then there was his sister, who was very beautiful. A debutante in London at around the turn of the last century, I believe.’
‘Did she wear the topaz necklace?’ Rose asked, intrigued.
‘I’m sure she wore the Fleury pearls with the diamond clasp to the debutante ball. But you will find out about her and all the others when you dig into the family archives. Great material for the website, I’d say, if you have the time and energy to write it. I’ll leave it all to you. I’m too busy to go through all that.’
‘Fabulous,’ Rose said. ‘I can’t wait.’
‘It’ll be hard work, but it’d be great to have it all sorted out and organised. I’ll text you when I have the key. Goodnight, pet. Sweet dreams.’
Rose said goodnight to Sylvia, and with her head full of thoughts she walked back to the gatehouse as dusk turned into night. The name she had just heard echoed through her mind.Cornelius, she thought.What a rascal he was. But who was his sister and what happened to her? A beautiful debutante at the beginning of the twentieth century? That has to be an interesting story, even if she had nothing to do with the topaz necklace…She suddenly couldn’t wait to get that key and get into the room with all the family memorabilia. It was as if she was getting access to an Aladdin’s cave full of treasures.
6
Two days later, Rose drove to Killarney to collect her necklace from the jewellers. She was a little apprehensive and wondered how she would feel holding the necklace now that she knew it was a fake. Who had made the copy and where was the real one? She would probably never find it. The fake one had had her fooled; she had treasured it and worn it to all kinds of dressy events, proud of what she had thought was a Fleury heirloom. And now she would have to pretend it was true. The thought made her feel nearly dizzy as she walked into the jewellery shop, her mind conflicted.
The shop was charmingly old fashioned, with a red carpet and mahogany display cabinets full of beautiful pieces of antique jewellery, which glimmered in the light of the little lamps dotted around the room. A young woman with dark brown hair in a bun looked up as Rose entered.
‘Hello, how can I help you?’ she asked.
‘My name is Rose Fleury and I’m here to collect my necklace. The one with the… topazes,’ she said. ‘I mean the one that looks like topazes but…’
‘Oh yes,’ the woman said. ‘I know the one you mean. I’m Angela, by the way, we spoke on the phone.’ She smiled apologetically. ‘I was the one who gave you the bad news. Sorry about that.’
‘Not your fault,’ Rose replied. ‘You had to tell me the truth, of course.’
‘I know, and I was really sorry. But you know what? It’s a beautiful piece even if it’s not real. Hang on, I’ll get it for you.’
She disappeared into the back room and came back moments later with a familiar dark blue velvet box. She handed it to Rose.
