As it happened, the divorce came sooner than anyone anticipated. In June, acutely aware of Emma’s overwhelming desire to protect their child, Paul permitted Emma to take Daisy to Yorkshire, agreeing she could be christened at a local church in Leeds. However, he insisted on being invited and travelled to Yorkshire with Frank and Natalie for the occasion. As a long-standing friend of the family, his presence was not unseemly, and, because of an unexpected turn of events, it actually went almost unnoticed. Several days prior to the christening, Arthur Ainsley’s mother collapsed and died of a heart attack. The baptism, following so quickly on the heels of the funeral, was a glum affair and Frederick Ainsley and Arthur were so grief-stricken they were hardly aware of the proceedings or of the other guests, and, also, Arthur had no interest in the event. Daisy was duly christened without incident and the next day Emma took her back to London. Three months later Frederick Ainsley, old, frail, and long in ill health, followed his wife to the grave. Arthur came into his inheritance and, in an unprecedented show of gallantry that stunned Emma’s brothers, he allowed her to divorce him on the grounds of adultery. Emma was not stunned. She had cannily bought Arthur’s gallantry for ten thousand pounds.
Once the decree nisi was granted, Emma’s life changed radically. She brought the twins, Robin and Elizabeth, to live with her in Belgrave Square, and, just as she had guessed, Arthur made no objections. Apart from being happy to be free of him at last, she also welcomed the idea of bringing up the twins without his influence.
Kit, who was at boarding school, spent half terms and vacations with Emma and made no secret of the fact that he approved of Paul and was devoted to him. Nor did he shed any tears about the abrupt disappearance of Arthur Ainsley from his young life. Emma also reorganized her business drastically, so that she could spend most of her time in London. Winston was appointed managing director of the Yorkshire shops and the mills, and Emma supervised her northern industries from her headquarters at the Knightsbridge store, making a monthly trip to Leeds, where she spent five hectic days, working long hours with Winston.
She and Paul were as circumspect as possible, especially in front of the children, but as time passed no one seemed to care about their unusual living arrangements and their rather extraordinary household filled with her diverse children by different fathers. Very early Paul had established himself as the titular head of the household and with his strength, plus his inherent gentleness, he was both respected and adored by the children, and he quickly became the father figure to them all. Slowly Emma began to relax. Paul had patiently explained to her that their combined wealth set them above the usual conventions, making them invulnerable to social censorship, and she admitted the truth in what he said. Her natural self-confidence and courage soon overcame her earlier misgivings.
Paul and Emma were inseparable. He bedecked her in magnificent jewels and furs and lovely gowns. He entertained on a lavish scale with her at his side as his hostess. They went to the theatre, the opera, concerts, dinners, and parties. They mixed with the wealthiest and the most influential people in London and in other cities across the world – politicians, tycoons, socialites, and men and women from the arts and letters on three continents. He took her to the capitals of Europe when he travelled, whether for business or pleasure. She went with him to New York and to Texas, where his oil fields were located, and twice she accompanied him on his annual trips to Australia. Just as she had fallen in love with New York and Texas, so, too, was she captivated by the Antipodes. Paul was still endeavouring to gain his freedom, but continually met implacable opposition from Constance, who would not agree to a divorce. This was the one thing that marred his happiness. Although he had legally adopted Daisy, and had provided for both her and her mother, he desperately wanted to marry Emma and put their lives in order. However, so secure was Emma in their relationship by this time she was unperturbed by the situation and constantly tried to alleviate Paul’s anxiety. Now it was she who told him to relax and not to fret so much, optimistically remarking that things would work out in the end, reiterating her love for him and reassuring him of her happiness.
The only disturbing factor in Emma’s life was Edwina’s continued estrangement, for she had not been able to mend the rift between them. Her only tenuous communication with her eldest daughter was through Winston, who took care of Edwina’s financial affairs on Emma’s behalf. After two years at the finishing school in Switzerland, Edwina had taken a flat in Mayfair and was leading a dizzy social life with her upper-class friends, enjoying her status as the well-heeled daughter of a very rich woman. Emma had not curtailed Edwina’s spending, and had set up a trust fund for her which gave the girl an annual income of no mean proportions. Emma longed to see Edwina, to draw her back into the bosom of the family, yet she was wise enough to refrain from making overtures, understanding that the first move must necessarily come from the girl.
And so for the most part Emma was content, more so than ever before. Paul’s abiding love, and hers for him, sustained her at all times. Emma also took great consolation in Daisy, who was her particular pride, and even though she was reluctant to admit it even to herself, she loved Daisy more than any of her other children. This was the child of love, the one child she truly carried with joy. There was a closeness between them she had not experienced with those born before, and it only became stronger with time. Sometimes, when she looked at the growing child, Emma’s heart would clench with the most overwhelming feelings of tenderness, seeing her beloved Paul so perfectly reflected in her. For Daisy was undoubtedly her father’s daughter, favouring him in every way. Being his constant companion, she unconsciously copied many of his mannerisms and when she smiled her face became as mischievous and as endearing to Emma as his. By nature Daisy was sweet and loving, and because of the affection and attentions showered on her by her parents she was a self-confident, outgoing little girl, yet she was utterly unspoiled and natural with everyone. There was much of Emma in her character. She had inherited her mother’s sunny disposition, her optimism, and her stubborn will.
When Daisy was five years old, Paul had insisted she accompany him and Emma to Australia. After a week in Sydney he took them up to Coonamble and they spent four weeks at Dunoon. An unusual rapport sprang up between the vivacious little girl and her half brother, Howard, and Emma and Paul were touched by the relationship. Daisy seemed to reach the boy in a way no one else ever had before, and her devotion to him and his dependency on her warmed their hearts. They returned every year thereafter with Paul, who did not want to deprive Howard of the joy his little stepsister so apparently brought to his restricted life.
The years slipped by so quickly Emma often wondered what happened to time. The children were all growing up and leaving the house in Belgrave Square. Kit, a fine-looking young man who much resembled Joe Lowther, went to Leeds University, and the twins departed for their respective boarding schools, bitterly complaining about being separated for the first time. If Daisy was Emma’s best-loved child, then Robin was undoubtedly her favourite son, and she missed him more than she had realized she would during school terms. Robin had none of Arthur Ainsley’s annoying characteristics or habits, and bore a strong likeness to Winston. He was a thin vital boy, with a vivid intelligence, a quick wit, and inbred charm. Scholarly by inclination, he was a brilliant student and Emma had high expectations for him.
His twin, Elizabeth, also favoured the Harte side of the family. Emma would sometimes look at her and catch her breath, seeing striking echoes of her own mother in the girl, and occasionally she even caught a fleeting glimpse of Olivia Wainright in Elizabeth’s lovely face. She would ponder briefly then on the past, recalling the uncanny resemblance between those two women from such different worlds and which had so startled her as a girl. Of all Emma’s children, Elizabeth was the real beauty, willowy, graceful, her exquisite face delicately translucent, surrounded by a thick cloud of dark hair. She too, was blessed with an abundance of charm. Unfortunately, Emma had long detected other traits in her, which she found dismaying. Elizabeth was violent of temper, flighty, and often difficult to control. Paul agreed with Emma that she needed a firm hand, and they hoped that the discipline of boarding school would tone her down without breaking her