Sebastian turned to face him. ‘You’re absolutely right. He isn’t.’ Deciding there and then not to let Nick get to him, he made a concerted effort to block him out.
*
Tobias, on the other hand, had quietly taken in the morning’s events. Besides scanning all the newspapers, he too had seen Nick Fletcher pontificating on TV. How he would love to bury that bastard. Once before he had come to blows with him when he had tried, in a drunken stupor, to kiss Megan. Tobias had punched the living daylights out of him – obviously Nick still hadn’t learnt his lesson, judging by the way he was still dabbling with his family. The newspapers he could handle: nothing there that he hadn’t been expecting. It was now a case of riding the media wave, until it all died down again. He looked towards the entrance of the Hall where half of Fleet Street seemed to be camped out and shook his head. Didn’t they ever give up?
He rang the estate office.
‘Good morning, Lord Cavendish-Blake,’ answered the estate manager.
‘Good morning, Percy. I want maximum security,’ he said sternly.
‘Yes, Sir, it has been arranged, as of last evening.’
‘Excellent. Nobody is to leave this Hall without being escorted. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Yes, Sir, absolutely.’ Tobias put the phone down and fixed his eyes on the TV screen.
‘Baby Edward is the son and heir to Lord Tobias Cavendish-Blake, but will the sudden announcement change things?’ asked yet another reporter appearing outside Treweham Hall this time. Tobias gritted his teeth. He wanted to shoot the fucking lot of them. Just then Megan entered the room carrying his son. Immediately his mood changed at seeing them.
‘Oh don’t watch any more – please, Tobias,’ said Megan wearily.
‘I won’t.’ He flicked it off with the remote control and opened his arms to hold Edward. ‘Come here, you,’ he said kissing his chubby cheeks. Edward gurgled in delight. This is what mattered, he told himself, family – not what the scavengers outside alleged.
