First Among Equals

“And I shall also endeavor to carry on the traditions of the bank in your absence,” said Reynolds, his head slightly bowed.

“I feel sure you will,” said Charles.

The board accepted the recommendation that Clive Reynolds be

appointed as temporary chairman and Charles vacated his office happily to take up his new post at the Treasury.

Charles considered it had been the most successful week of his life and on the Friday evening on the way back to Eaton Square he dropped into Oliver Swann’s gallery to pick up the Holbein.

“I’m afraid the picture didn’t quite fit the frame,” said Mr. Swann.

“Oh, I expect it’s worked loose over the years,” Charles said noncommittally.

“No, Mr. Seymour, this frame was put on the portrait quite recently,” said Swann.

“That’s not possible,” said Charles. “I remember the frame as well as I remember the picture. The portrait of the first Earl of Bridgwater has been in my family for over 400 years.”

“Not this picture,” said Swann.

“What do you mean?” said Charles, beginning to sound anxious.

“This picture came up for sale at Sotheby’s about three weeks ago.”

Charles went cold as Swann continued.

“It’s the school of Holbein, of course,” he said, “probably painted by one of his pupils around the time of his death. I should think there are a dozen or so in existence.”

“A dozen or so,” repeated Charles, the blood drained from his face.

“Yes, perhaps even more. At least it’s solved one mystery for me,” said Swann, chuckling.

“What’s that?” asked Charles, choking out the words.

“I couldn’t work out why Lady Fiona was bidding for the picture, and then I remembered that your family name is Bridgwater.”

“At least this wedding has some style,” Pimkin assured Fiona between mouthfuls of sandwich at the reception after her marriage to Alexander Dalglish. Pimkin always accepted wedding invitations as it allowed him to devour mounds of smoked salmon sandwiches and consume unlimited quantities of champagne. “I particularly enjoyed that short service of blessing in the Guards’ Chapel; and Claridges can always be relied on to understand my little proclivities.” He peered round the vast room and only stopped to stare at his reflection in a chandelier.

Fiona laughed. “Did you go to Charles’s wedding?”

“My darling, the only Etonians who have ever been seen in Hammersmith pass through it as quickly as possible on a boat, representing either Oxford or Cambridge.”

“So you weren’t invited,” said Fiona.

“I’m told that only Amanda was invited, and even she nearly found she had another engagement. With her doctor, I believe.”

“Well, Charles certainly can’t afford another divorce.”

“No, not in his present position as Her Majesty’s. Financial Secretary. One divorce might go unnoticed but two would be considered habit-forming, and all diligent readers of Nigel Dempster have been able to observe that consummation has taken place.”

“But how long will Charles be able to tolerate her behavior?”

“As long as he still believes she has given him a son who will inherit the family title. Not that a marriage ceremony will necessarily prove legitimacy,” added Pimkin.

“Perhaps Amanda won’t produce a son.”

“Perhaps whatever she produces it will be obvious that it’s not Charles’s offspring,” said Pimkin, falling into a chair that had been momentarily left by a large buxom lady.

“Even if it was I can’t see Amanda as a housewife.”