bobbing a curtsy to the old lady - Elizabeth rushed down ‘ the corridor to the lecture hall to bag herself the best seat. The room filled slowly with laconic, overprivileged teenagers, and Herr Geller, the headmaster, peered in to check that his flock was settled. He noticed Penny Foster and Elizabeth Savage sitting centre front and raised an eyebrow; most unlike Lady Elizabeth to take an active illterest in anything.
Still, he was pleased to see it. It had been a great coup for the Ecole to land the daughter of Lord Caerhaven - titles always looked good in the pupil register - and in many ways, her ladyship had proved ideal. The earl had written him a frank letter before Elizabeth was admitted, explaining that she was a wilful girl and likely to cause trouble; on no account was she to be given business education, maths lessons or allowed to have marketing journals delivered. He wanted a young lady and not a tomboy to return from the Alps. Geller had called Elizabeth to him when she arrived and explained her father’s prohibitions, expecting a storm; instead, all he got was a nod and a shrug of the shoulders.
Elizabeth had resigned herself to the inevitable. She knew the dream would have to be postponed. She. wasn’t
48
going to work in Dragon, and if she was ever going to escape her parents’ clutches, that meant money. Tony had it and she didn’t. For the moment, it was better to play along, let the family think she’d given in. She should be studying for her A-levels, but instead she was stuck in this relic from the past, learning cordon bleu cookery, flower-arranging and ballroom dancing. Whenever she heard Penny talk about her brother at Oxford, or Chantal’s at Wharton, or Th6rse Lecoute’s cousins at the Sorbonne, she felt a tight knot of anger in her stomach; no university for her - Dad only wanted her qualified for the Mrs degree. Enthusiasm was asking too much, but Elizabeth dutifully stuck roses in jars and waltzed to the ‘Blue Danube’. At the end of her first term her report said, ‘Modest and well behaved,’ and gave her average marks for everything.
Tony Zloubled her allowance.
Besides, Elizabeth was enjoying herself. She thought she would loathe Switzerland, but within a week she was in love - the soaring, white-capped mountains, green Alpine slopes covered with Eidelweiss and grazing cattle, the belled goats and clear mountain air. She adored Swiss food, thick black bread and Kaise, cuttlefish soups, fondues and Kirschtorte, or cherry tart. There was spicy Gliihwein and perfect chocolate, and the village of Saas F6e was enchanting, with its narrow, winding cobbled streets and gabled shops.
Elizabeth made friends easily despite her reckless streak; some girls disapproved violently, but others secretly admired her. Elizabeth tried hard to sort out the real friends from the crowd of nouveaux riches who sucked up in the hope of an introduction to her brothers. She never trusted Vanessa since the morning she caught her doodling ‘Lady Holwyn’ all over her art history file.
Good behaviour and a large allowance meant she was allowed to join the termly school trip to Zurich. Penriy
49
and Chantal dived into the expensive hotel shops packed with Herm/s scarves and Louis Vuitton luggage, but Elizabeth liked to stare at the towering banks, with their mirrored walls and discreet brass plaques. Businessmen in dark suits and Cutler & Gross sunglasses strode past and the news stands were full of financial journals in every conceivable language. Zurich had none of the commercial buzz of London or New York, but its sober atmosphere was impressive. Elizabeth felt she was breathing money. Finance, secrecy and power practically bled from the paving-stones. She would sit in a roadside car6, sipping a glass of schnapps, and think slowly about what she was going to do about Dragon. That company was her birthright, and she wouldn’t let it go.
She turned the problem over and over in her
Still, he was pleased to see it. It had been a great coup for the Ecole to land the daughter of Lord Caerhaven - titles always looked good in the pupil register - and in many ways, her ladyship had proved ideal. The earl had written him a frank letter before Elizabeth was admitted, explaining that she was a wilful girl and likely to cause trouble; on no account was she to be given business education, maths lessons or allowed to have marketing journals delivered. He wanted a young lady and not a tomboy to return from the Alps. Geller had called Elizabeth to him when she arrived and explained her father’s prohibitions, expecting a storm; instead, all he got was a nod and a shrug of the shoulders.
Elizabeth had resigned herself to the inevitable. She knew the dream would have to be postponed. She. wasn’t
48
going to work in Dragon, and if she was ever going to escape her parents’ clutches, that meant money. Tony had it and she didn’t. For the moment, it was better to play along, let the family think she’d given in. She should be studying for her A-levels, but instead she was stuck in this relic from the past, learning cordon bleu cookery, flower-arranging and ballroom dancing. Whenever she heard Penny talk about her brother at Oxford, or Chantal’s at Wharton, or Th6rse Lecoute’s cousins at the Sorbonne, she felt a tight knot of anger in her stomach; no university for her - Dad only wanted her qualified for the Mrs degree. Enthusiasm was asking too much, but Elizabeth dutifully stuck roses in jars and waltzed to the ‘Blue Danube’. At the end of her first term her report said, ‘Modest and well behaved,’ and gave her average marks for everything.
Tony Zloubled her allowance.
Besides, Elizabeth was enjoying herself. She thought she would loathe Switzerland, but within a week she was in love - the soaring, white-capped mountains, green Alpine slopes covered with Eidelweiss and grazing cattle, the belled goats and clear mountain air. She adored Swiss food, thick black bread and Kaise, cuttlefish soups, fondues and Kirschtorte, or cherry tart. There was spicy Gliihwein and perfect chocolate, and the village of Saas F6e was enchanting, with its narrow, winding cobbled streets and gabled shops.
Elizabeth made friends easily despite her reckless streak; some girls disapproved violently, but others secretly admired her. Elizabeth tried hard to sort out the real friends from the crowd of nouveaux riches who sucked up in the hope of an introduction to her brothers. She never trusted Vanessa since the morning she caught her doodling ‘Lady Holwyn’ all over her art history file.
Good behaviour and a large allowance meant she was allowed to join the termly school trip to Zurich. Penriy
49
and Chantal dived into the expensive hotel shops packed with Herm/s scarves and Louis Vuitton luggage, but Elizabeth liked to stare at the towering banks, with their mirrored walls and discreet brass plaques. Businessmen in dark suits and Cutler & Gross sunglasses strode past and the news stands were full of financial journals in every conceivable language. Zurich had none of the commercial buzz of London or New York, but its sober atmosphere was impressive. Elizabeth felt she was breathing money. Finance, secrecy and power practically bled from the paving-stones. She would sit in a roadside car6, sipping a glass of schnapps, and think slowly about what she was going to do about Dragon. That company was her birthright, and she wouldn’t let it go.
She turned the problem over and over in her
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