His secretary, Alice Hawthorn, grey-haired and in her fifties, raised her eyebrows. ‘Francis Theron, I gather?’ ‘You gather right,’ Reith agreed. ‘He doesn’t believe I’m a suitable person to be—’ he paused and grimaced ‘—within a hundred miles of his beloved winery, no doubt. Despite the fact he’s in dire straits, despite the fact my offer is the only one he’s got and he could end up bankrupt in the near future.’ ‘Hmm …’ Alice mused. ‘A very socially prominent family, the Therons of Balthazar and Saldanha. Very proud.’ ‘You know what they say about pride and the proverbial fall,’ Reith murmured. ‘OK, Alice, I’m withdrawing the offer I made. I’ll leave the Therons to their fate.’ He bundled the papers before him into a stack and handed them over to her. ‘There’s a daughter, you know,’ Alice said, as she packed the papers into a folder. ‘An absolute stunner, I believe. About twenty-two.’ Reith shrugged. ‘Maybe they need to find her a rich husband who can save them all.’ ‘There’s also a son.’ ‘I know, I’ve met him—all the right schools, top polo player, seriously into horses, in fact, but singularly unblessed with any business sense,’ Reith replied dryly then he smiled a crooked grin.
What do You think about When Only Diamonds Will Do?
