Rogue in Porcelain by Anthea Fraser Read Free Book Online

long one that stood in the centre. She was, Rona realized, the only woman present – which, given the Curzon ethos, should not have surprised her. The men already seated rose as one and stood as Finlay introduced them. They’d plainly been forewarned of her attendance.
    She nodded to each one as Finlay introduced him, trying to keep track of names and relationships. Not all of them were Curzons; several senior managers were present and were also eying her with interest. She wondered what they’d been told about her. Then – Edward, was it? – pulled out a chair for her, and they all sat down. She was, she saw, firmly entrenched in the Curzon enclave, with Finlay opposite her and Nick on her right.
    â€˜So what gave you the idea of writing us up?’ Oliver enquired from the end of the table.
    â€˜Believe it or not, dining off your china. It led to my father saying he’d met Mr Charles Curzon recently, and that you had an anniversary coming up.’
    â€˜Hadn’t you heard about it before?’ Finlay, as Sales and Marketing Director, cut in. ‘The anniversary, I mean?’
    â€˜If I had, I’m afraid it hadn’t registered.’
    â€˜Room for improvement, Finn,’ Edward said jovially. He turned to Rona. ‘You home in on anniversaries, then?’
    â€˜Not especially; I’m doing a series on the history of family businesses, for Chiltern Life . It’s really centred on Marsborough, but I made an exception in your case, since you’re Buckfordshire-based, and so well known.’
    The first course arrived – chicken pâté and Melba toast – and to Rona’s relief the spotlight turned off her as they began their meal. At the other end of the table the senior managers were engaged in their own conversation, and during the brief lull in what she suspected would be a minor inquisition, she had time to sort out her first impressions of the cousins. In appearance, there was only a faint resemblance between them, no stronger in the two sets of brothers than in the group as a whole. If anything, Finlay and Sam most resembled each other, being fairer than the others, though Sam’s hair was a lighter shade than Finlay’s gold-brown.
    â€˜You live in Marsborough, then?’ Nick enquired.
    â€˜That’s right.’
    â€˜Lucky you; it’s one of my favourite towns, with all that Georgian elegance.’
    â€˜Do you live here in Chilswood?’
    â€˜No, in Nettleton – several of us do. It has the advantage of being convenient for work, without being on the doorstep. You need some distance between home and the daily grind – helps you to switch off.’
    â€˜I wouldn’t know,’ Rona said. ‘I work from home. And don’t,’ she added as his mouth opened, ‘say it’s different for a woman!’
    Nick laughed. ‘Touché. So how do you wind down? By preparing elaborate dishes for your husband? I’ve heard that’s good therapy.’
    â€˜Not in my case. I loathe cooking and do as little as possible. My husband’s the cook in our household – when he’s at home, that is.’
    Nick raised an eyebrow. ‘He’s away a lot?’
    Rona bit her lip; she’d not meant to get involved in this. ‘Three nights a week,’ she said reluctantly. ‘He’s an artist who gives evening classes, and it’s easier if he stays at the studio on those nights.’
    â€˜So you’re a class widow?’
    She smiled. ‘You could say that. Fortunately there’s an excellent Italian restaurant close by, and several good take-aways.’
    Sam leaned forward. ‘You’re serious? You don’t cook at all?’
    â€˜Only under duress.’
    â€˜Ms Parish, I’m sure, believes cooking is as much men’s work as women’s,’ Finlay said unexpectedly. ‘She doesn’t believe in stereotypes; I warn you, we’d better be