Sir Walter ordered his chauffeur to drive Mrs Barrington and the children back to the Manor House. Despite Emma’s triumph, her mother made no attempt to hide her feelings as the car made its way towards Chew Valley. As they drove through the gates and up to the house, Giles noticed that some lights were still on in the drawing room.
Once the chauffeur had dropped them off, Elizabeth told Giles, Emma and Grace to go to bed, in a tone of voice none of them had heard for many years, while she headed for the drawing room. Giles and Emma reluctantly climbed the wide staircase but sat down on the top step the moment their mother was out of sight, while Grace obediently went to her room. Giles even wondered if his mother had left the door open on purpose.
When Elizabeth entered the room, her husband didn’t bother to stand up. She noticed a half empty bottle of whisky and a tumbler on the table by his side.
‘No doubt you have some explanation for your unforgivable behaviour?’
‘I don’t have to explain anything I do to you.’
‘Emma somehow managed to rise above your appalling behaviour tonight.’
Barrington poured himself another tumbler of whisky and took a gulp. ‘I have arranged for Emma to be removed from Red Maids immediately. Next term she will be enrolled at a school far enough away to ensure she never sees that boy again.’
On the stairs, Emma burst into tears. Giles wrapped an arm around her.
‘What can Harry Clifton possibly have done to make you behave in such a shameful way?’
‘It’s none of your business.’
‘Of course it’s my business,’ said Elizabeth, trying to remain calm. ‘We are discussing our daughter and your son’s closest friend. If Emma has fallen in love with Harry, and I suspect she has, I can’t think of a nicer or more decent young man for her to lose her heart to.’
‘Harry Clifton is the son of a whore. That’s why her husband left her. And I repeat, Emma will never be allowed to come in contact with the little bastard again.’
‘I’m going to bed before I lose my temper,’ said Elizabeth. ‘Don’t even think of joining me in your present state.’
‘I wasn’t thinking of joining you in any state,’ said Barrington, pouring himself another whisky. ‘You haven’t given me any pleasure in the bedroom for as long as I can remember.’
Emma leapt up and ran to her room, locking the door behind her. Giles didn’t move.
‘You are obviously drunk,’ said Elizabeth. ‘We’ll discuss this in the morning, when you’re sober.’
‘There will be nothing to discuss in the morning,’ slurred Barrington as his wife left the room. A moment later his head fell back on the cushion and he began to snore.
When Jenkins pulled back the shutters in the drawing room just before eight the following morning he showed no surprise when he found his master slumped in an armchair, sound asleep and still wearing his dinner jacket.
The morning sunlight caused Barrington to stir. He blinked, and peered at the butler before he checked his watch.
‘There will be a car coming to pick up Miss Emma in about an hour’s time, Jenkins, so be sure she’s packed and ready.’
‘Miss Emma is not here, sir.’
‘What? Then where is she?’ demanded Barrington as he tried to stand up, but wobbled unsteadily for a moment before falling back into the chair.
‘I have no idea, sir. She and Mrs Barrington left the house just after midnight.’