Read Online Dangerous to Know by Barbara Taylor Bradford - Free Book Online
Authors: Barbara Taylor Bradford
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Waramaug, seemed more brilliant than ever, fiery-bright plumage silhouetted against a clear cerulean sky. Some leaves had already started to fall earlier than usual, I noticed, and I knew that by the fifteenth of the month the branches would begin to look bare and bereft.
Her. That was exactly how I felt.
I wondered dismally if I were the only person mourning Sebastian.
Certainly his children weren’t grieving, and who could really know what an old man like Cyrus felt. He was, after all, ninety years old and in his dotage, with one foot in the grave himself. He had survived three of his progeny; now the last one was dead. How terrible it must be to outlive your own children, to have to bury them.
For a long time Sebastian had been the only remaining offspring of Cyrus Locke. As far as we knew, he was the only one living. There was a sister who had disappeared years ago, and what had happened to her was a genuine mystery, baffling to us all. She might be dead or alive.
Sebastian was the eldest child of Cyrus by his first wife, who had not survived the birth. There had been three other children by his second wife Hildegarde Orbach Locke, two girls and another boy.
Glenda, Sebastian’s half sister and the closest in age to him, had committed suicide years before. His half brother Malcolm had drowned in a boating accident on Lake Coma in Switzerland, in questionable circumstances. And Fiona, the youngest sibling, was the one who had vanished into thin air seven years ago, lost somewhere in that nether world of drugs peopled by the addicted, the depraved, the pitiful , and the homeless. The walking dead, Sebastian had called them.
Ever since her disappearance, Sebastian had been searching for Fiona and, as far as I knew, detectives in the employ of Locke Indus tries continued to look for the vanished woman.
The ancient patriarch Cyrus Locke aside, there were only Jack and Luciana left. And neither of them had children. How tragic it was that the Locke dynasty had so badly disintegrated into such a sorry state over the years; this great American family was almost finished, defunct . Malcolm Lyon Locke, the founding father, would turn over in his grave if he knew. I couldn’t help wondering what he would think of his descendants if he were alive. That canny Scotsman from Arbroath, who had set sail for America from Dundee in 1830 and had been a millionaire by the time he was twenty-eight, would most likely be disappointed . And I, for one, wouldn’t blame him.
If Luciana continued to hate the idea of children and would not permit herself to conceive, and if Jack did not remarry and beget a child, then the Lockes truly would be extinct. Well, not quite. There were some cousins, grandchildren of Cyrus’s brothers evor and James, but they were somewhat ineffectual, nonentities really, who kept in the background and lived off their unearned incomes.
There was a knock on my bedroom door and I heard Jack’s voice calling, “Can I come in, Viv?”
“Yes,” I answered and as I went through into my bedroom the door opened and he rushed in, looking triumphant.
“I’ve done it!” he exclaimed. “I talked to the pastor over in Corn wall. Funeral’s set for eleven. Burial forty-five minutes later.
At Corn wall Cemetery. Up the road from the church.”
“I know where it is,” I murmured. “I was thinking, Jack, maybe we ought to ask a few people back to the farm for lunch-“
“A wake? Is that what you mean?” He looked at me curiously.
“No, of course not,” I replied, shaking my head swiftly. “Not a wake.
Just a simple lunch for a few close friends and family.”
He guffawed. “That’s a belly laugh! What family?”
“There’s you and Luciana. And me. And your grandfather and Madeleine .
You can’t very well send them back to Maine without feeding them.
Also, I’m sure some of your Locke cousins will want to come.
And there will be a few of Sebastian’s friends, people from Locke Industries and
Her. That was exactly how I felt.
I wondered dismally if I were the only person mourning Sebastian.
Certainly his children weren’t grieving, and who could really know what an old man like Cyrus felt. He was, after all, ninety years old and in his dotage, with one foot in the grave himself. He had survived three of his progeny; now the last one was dead. How terrible it must be to outlive your own children, to have to bury them.
For a long time Sebastian had been the only remaining offspring of Cyrus Locke. As far as we knew, he was the only one living. There was a sister who had disappeared years ago, and what had happened to her was a genuine mystery, baffling to us all. She might be dead or alive.
Sebastian was the eldest child of Cyrus by his first wife, who had not survived the birth. There had been three other children by his second wife Hildegarde Orbach Locke, two girls and another boy.
Glenda, Sebastian’s half sister and the closest in age to him, had committed suicide years before. His half brother Malcolm had drowned in a boating accident on Lake Coma in Switzerland, in questionable circumstances. And Fiona, the youngest sibling, was the one who had vanished into thin air seven years ago, lost somewhere in that nether world of drugs peopled by the addicted, the depraved, the pitiful , and the homeless. The walking dead, Sebastian had called them.
Ever since her disappearance, Sebastian had been searching for Fiona and, as far as I knew, detectives in the employ of Locke Indus tries continued to look for the vanished woman.
The ancient patriarch Cyrus Locke aside, there were only Jack and Luciana left. And neither of them had children. How tragic it was that the Locke dynasty had so badly disintegrated into such a sorry state over the years; this great American family was almost finished, defunct . Malcolm Lyon Locke, the founding father, would turn over in his grave if he knew. I couldn’t help wondering what he would think of his descendants if he were alive. That canny Scotsman from Arbroath, who had set sail for America from Dundee in 1830 and had been a millionaire by the time he was twenty-eight, would most likely be disappointed . And I, for one, wouldn’t blame him.
If Luciana continued to hate the idea of children and would not permit herself to conceive, and if Jack did not remarry and beget a child, then the Lockes truly would be extinct. Well, not quite. There were some cousins, grandchildren of Cyrus’s brothers evor and James, but they were somewhat ineffectual, nonentities really, who kept in the background and lived off their unearned incomes.
There was a knock on my bedroom door and I heard Jack’s voice calling, “Can I come in, Viv?”
“Yes,” I answered and as I went through into my bedroom the door opened and he rushed in, looking triumphant.
“I’ve done it!” he exclaimed. “I talked to the pastor over in Corn wall. Funeral’s set for eleven. Burial forty-five minutes later.
At Corn wall Cemetery. Up the road from the church.”
“I know where it is,” I murmured. “I was thinking, Jack, maybe we ought to ask a few people back to the farm for lunch-“
“A wake? Is that what you mean?” He looked at me curiously.
“No, of course not,” I replied, shaking my head swiftly. “Not a wake.
Just a simple lunch for a few close friends and family.”
He guffawed. “That’s a belly laugh! What family?”
“There’s you and Luciana. And me. And your grandfather and Madeleine .
You can’t very well send them back to Maine without feeding them.
Also, I’m sure some of your Locke cousins will want to come.
And there will be a few of Sebastian’s friends, people from Locke Industries and
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