Dirty Aristocrat

Whatever, Ralph. And everybody thought I was the gold digger!

I took a taxi to Harrods where I wandered around listlessly. I had no plan. I needed a plan, but my mind was blank. I felt so depressed and numb. I could not believe that Ivan could

betray me for money. All he had to do was tell me the truth. I would have given him the money. Robert would turn in his grave to know he had been so spectacularly wrong about Ivan.

Ivan was as bad as the rest of them.

All I wanted to do was run away and hide for just a little while. Until it didn’t hurt so much, but there was nowhere to run or hide. I had to stay and face the music. I was married to a

psychopath who could have incredible sex with me all night, then plot with my stepchildren to have me eliminated. I turned a corner, still in a daze, and bumped into someone.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said, my voice dying in my throat when I saw who it was.

My old butler, James.

‘Oh, Mrs. Maxwell! Well, it’s Lady Greystoke now, isn’t it?’ he said with a happy smile. ‘I can’t believe it. You look very well. How are you these days?’ He seemed so happy to see me

that I felt myself go red with embarrassment. I had asked him to stay on, but then Ivan had fired him, yet he seemed to bear me no ill will.

As I stood there I understood Ivan’s game. James had been loyal to Robert and me, so Ivan removed him from the picture. As a strategy it was brilliant. He removed my entire support

system. The butler that Robert had trusted for twenty years, the housekeeper, my home, my horses. Everything had been taken away from me.

I suddenly felt like crying.

‘Oh Mrs. Maxwell, I mean, Lady Greystoke, what’s the matter? You look so pale. Are you all right?’

‘I’m fine. I’m just glad to see you James. How have you been?’

‘Not good. I’ve haven’t been able to find new employment. I’m too old. And the missus is sick so most of my inheritance is gone.’

‘Oh no. You must let me help you,’ I cried, horrified to know what had happened to him.

‘That’s very kind of you.’

‘Yes, you must tell me everything.’

‘Will you allow me to buy you a coffee?’ he asked.

‘Of course. But you must let me buy it.’

‘No, please. For once let me treat you.’

I smiled. ‘All right.’

We walked together to the coffee house on the third floor. I sat down. ‘Do you mind if I call the missus and tell her I’ll be a bit late?’ he asked, taking his phone out of his pocket

and holding it respectfully in his hand.

‘Of course not,’ I said with a smile.

He called and told her that we had met in Harrods, and that he would be a bit late. He listened, then looking at me apologetically, said, ‘No, Martha. It wouldn’t be appropriate.’

‘What wouldn’t be appropriate?’ I asked.

He took the phone away from his ear. ‘Martha wants me to bring you home for tea. She’s always been dying to meet you.’

‘Oh,’ I said. I remembered then that James had mentioned her before. Not only that, once she had even baked some cookies for me, and I had gone out and bought her a beautiful designer

handbag as a gift.

He put the phone back to his ear. ‘Maybe another time, Martha. Lady Greystoke is busy.’

‘Wait,’ I said. ‘Where do you live?’

‘We live in West Kensington. It’s just up the road. We’d love you to come, but I realize you’re probably too busy. Just say no if you can’t. You can come another time.’

‘No, no,’ I said with a smile. ‘I’ll come today. I’d love to meet your wife.’

‘Are you sure?’ James asked, his eyes bright.

‘Of course, I’m sure.’ The truth was, bumping into him couldn’t have come at a better time. I needed to not be alone. I needed to talk to people from my old life, from before Ivan came

into it.

James ended his call and beamed at me. ‘My car is parked one street away from here. I can bring it around or we can walk. I know you enjoy a good walk.’

It was good to be with someone who knew me so well. ‘Let’s walk, James. As you said, I’ve always enjoyed a good walk.’

We walked to his car. Like a true gentleman, he held open the passenger door while I got in. He closed the door before going around to the driver’s side. He started the ignition and was

about to drive away when the back door opened suddenly. I twisted my head around in surprise and stared into Dr. Spencer’s pale blue eyes.

Oh, dear God!

‘Hello, Lady Greystoke,’ he said, and slipped a needle into my arm.