Free Ryman, Rebecca by Olivia, Jai Page B

aware of the
high moral standards she maintains and how assiduously she values social
propriety in all matters. It shocked Bridget that a scalawag of such despicably
low calibre should have had the gall to actually hobnob with you, her own flesh
and blood." He gave a quick laugh. "Of course it was absurd of
Bridget to faint, utterly ridiculous! But then, we must make some allowances
for her little whims and excesses, must we not?"
    For
all his apparent earnestness, his good-humoured indulgence for his wife's
"whims and excesses," Olivia knew that her uncle prevaricated. He had
not told her the real reason for her aunt's distress. Torn for a moment between
tactical withdrawal (which would be wise) and a bold attack (which would not),
Olivia eventually settled for the latter. "This Mr. Raventhorne," her
chin firmed as she fearlessly mouthed the forbidden name, "who exactly is
he and what exactly does he do?"
    "He
is in the tea business." The curtness of his reply gave ample indication
of his reluctance to pursue the subject.
    "On
the China Coast?"
    "No.
He grows his own."
    So,
Estelle's snippets of gossip were not wholly incorrect! Ignoring her uncle's
obvious displeasure and assuming innocence, Olivia pressed on. "He does?
But did you not tell me that European planters in Assam are having serious
labour problems and that it would be years before China tea could be grown
domestically with commercial success?"
    "He
does not fall in the category of European planters." It was with
difficulty that Sir Joshua appeared to be restraining his exasperation.
"He cultivates indigenous Indian tea trees, not Chinese."
    This
time she had no need to simulate surprise. "Indigenous Indian tea trees? I
had no idea that tea plants are also native to India!"
    "Assam
has had native tea trees for centuries," he said impatiently as he swung
forward to place his hands palm down on the desk, "but that is neither
here nor there in the present context. The reason why I have brought up the
subject of Raventhorne," his mouth twisted with distaste, "is because
I felt that some explanation was due to you of your Aunt Bridget's silly
melodramatics yesterday. I could see that you were frightened out of your wits,"
he raised a small smile, "and as such an apology from me was certainly in
order. Will you accept it, my dear, and forgive us for having alarmed you
unduly?" Olivia had no choice but to nod her acquiescence, albeit
reluctantly. "In that case, shall we now consider the entire unfortunate
matter closed?"
    Matter
closed. Her
aunt's words exactly! What was it about this man that made him such a pariah?
Now, of course, there was no possibility of probing further. "By all
means," she murmured, hiding her disappointment.
    "Tell
me, m'dear," suddenly, he was all smiles again, "are you truly happy
with us?"
    The
sharp change in topic took Olivia aback. "Why, of course I am!" she
cried, flushing. "Why do you even need to ask, Uncle Josh?"
    "Because
sometimes I do get the impression that you are not, that life here is not
entirely as you would wish it to be."
    She
was dismayed by his perceptions and hastened to refute them. "Apart from
the fact that I miss Papa, I assure you I am marvellously content. How could I
not be in your kindness and generosity to me?"
    He
nodded absently. "Yes, all said and done I must say you have adjusted
remarkably well considering how different your environment must have been at
home. Well, Bridget and I enjoy having you with us and Estelle, of course,
admires you no end." He flicked a tube of cigar ash off his lapel and
sighed. "We've rather spoilt her, you know. The truth is, she came to us
so late in life that neither of us quite knows how to handle her. We tend to be
over protective sometimes, but we mean well."
    "Estelle
is not yet eighteen," Olivia answered quickly. "She will grow up in
time, but . . ." Taking advantage of his sudden mellowness, she dared
broach a subject brewing in her mind for a while. "Could not you and