Heirs of Ravenscar by Barbara Taylor Bradford Read Free Book Online

those ten years had assumed enormous proportions all of a sudden.
    She was now forty-three.
    Edward Deravenel was thirty-three.
    She was ten years older than he was, and whilst this had not seemed too big an age difference between them before, it did now … because it was beginning to show.
    It seemed to Jane, now that she focused on their ages, that Edward had not changed at all. He looked exactly the same, as handsome as ever. His hair was still that wonderful red-gold colour, burnished and full of light even on the dullest of sunless wintry days. His eyes, of an unusual cornflower blue, were still sparkling and full of life, and at six foot four he was an imposing man who appeared much younger than his years. He had kept his lean figure, had not put on weight: in fact, there was not an ounce of extra fat on him.
    Rising, Jane walked over to the cheval mirror that stood in a corner, and removed her peignoir, stood naked in front of the looking glass, examining her body appraisingly.
    Her breasts were still high, taut, a young woman’s breasts, and her hips were slim, her stomach flat. She was pleased that her figure had not altered very much; because she was of medium height, she had always watched her diet carefully. As a consequence of this, her body was slender, and there was a youthfulness about her appearance. Nonetheless, the age difference between them was unexpectedly troubling her today.
    Shaking her head, she turned away from the mirror, endeavouring to laugh at her own silliness. As she slipped into the white chiffon peignoir again, Jane reminded herself that no man could be more giving, loving and attentive than Edward.
    The odd bits of gossip she heard about him from time to time actually pleased her, because the gossip was about them and their long friendship, and not about him and other women. The crux of the gossip was that, most miraculously, he was faithful to her.
    Sitting down in the chair, she began to apply her usual evening cosmetics. A dusting of light face powder, a hint of pink rouge on her high cheekbones, and red lip rouge on her sensual mouth. She touched her blonde eyelashes with dark mascara, added the merest hint of brown pencil to her blonde eyebrows, and then picked up the comb, ran it through her wavy blonde hair. It was shorter than it had been for years, layers of waves that swept over her head and around her ears. This shorter cut was the latest style, and it suited her, added to her youthfulness.
    After putting on silk stockings and underwear, Jane went to the wardrobe and took out a tailored, dark-blue silk dress. It had a V neckline and loose floating sleeves. As finishing touches she added several long ropes of pearls, pearl earrings, a sapphire ring and matching bracelet.
    Now stepping into a pair of dark-blue suede court shoes, she hurried out of the bedroom and went down the stairs to the parlour.
    A perfectionist at heart, Jane wanted to be certain that everything was in order before Ned arrived to spend the evening with her. She was worried about him because of Young Edward’s illness. Ned was concerned about his little son, who was his heir, and he tended to fuss about him rather a lot. But she fully understood why this was so. Jane knew what a genuinely good father Edward was, devoted to all of his children, who did seem to keep coming along on a regular basis.
    Pushing open the mahogany door into the parlour, she smiled to herself. Several of her women friends were extremely curious, incurably nosey about their relationship. They had no compunction about asking her outrageous personal questions, especially about Edward’s wife. They said Elizabethwas mean and selfish, but Jane did not care.
    She simply laughed in their faces and told them nothing. What did she care if he slept with Elizabeth from time to time? She was fully aware that most married men who had mistresses also had continuing sexual relationships with their wives. Usually because they had no