Heirs of the Body Read Online Free Page B

investigated. Those who can provide proof of their surname, I’ll have to interview. If I can’t debunk them at once, I’ll have to send a clerk to Somerset House to trace their ancestry. The records there go back to 1837 and Julian left England in 1831, so there’s a gap. Besides, those are records from England and Wales. We have no reason to suppose he or his descendants ever returned to Britain.”
    “Gosh, it does sound like a complicated job.”
    “I assume you’re not interested in the preliminaries.”
    “Not really,” she admitted. “Once you’ve whittled it down to those who are serious contenders, I do think I might be able to help to separate the sheep from the goats.”
    “You do realise your opinion of them will carry no weight. Only primogeniture and legitimacy count with the College of Arms, who are the final arbiters.”
    “Give me a little credit, Tommy, I do know that much! I won’t be able to prove anything, but I might manage to disprove someone’s story, or part of it.”
    “Hmm.” Tommy sounded sceptical. “What sort of family history are you thinking of?”
    “Well, going right back to the beginning, for a start. Back to the fifteenth century, the Wars of the Roses, and how the Dalrymples rose to the nobility.”
    “Good lord! I’ve seen the original patent, as it happens, but it doesn’t provide reasons for the ennoblement. It was talked about in the family when you were growing up?”
    “Not exactly talked about, but Father told Gervaise. He told Violet—my sister—and me. I should think even younger sons would be bound to have heard about it, and it’s not the sort of thing they’d forget. I don’t suppose anyone else knows, except a few fusty old historians in ivory towers.”
    “Probably not. How did it come about?”
    Daisy shook her head. “If I tell you, then you won’t need my help.”
    “Daisy, you can’t possibly tell me everything that happened in four centuries!”
    “So you will need my help!”
    “Let’s say I still have an open mind on the subject. Let’s hear about the Wars of the Roses. The short version.”
    “If there’s a long version, I can’t remember it. I can never keep Lancaster and York straight, either, nor remember which is red rose and which is white. Anyway, legend has it Sir Roger Dalrymple was an obscure knight who fought for the wrong side. However, at the Battle of Bosworth he managed to switch sides just in time, taking his men with him. Henry Tudor was duly grateful and made him a baron. The story is that he’d promised a monetary award, but handing out titles was cheaper.”
    “Henry VII was a notorious penny-pincher.”
    “The funny bit is that the Petries, our neighbours, fought for Henry all along and were also rewarded with a barony.”
    Tommy grinned. “That can’t have pleased them. And I see what you mean. It’s not the sort of story the Dalrymples would be keen on broadcasting to the world.”
    “I don’t suppose anyone would care two hoots nowadays. Or be in the least bit interested, come to that.”
    “Except those ivory-tower historians of yours. The Petries—I met your friend Phillip Petrie at Fairacres, but I didn’t make the connection. It was the Petries’ governess Julian Dalrymple ran off with.”
    “Propinquity,” said Daisy. “The two families have always been friendly in spite of inauspicious beginnings. There was probably lots of visiting back and forth. She—What was her name, by the way? I can’t keep calling her ‘she.’”
    “Marie-Claire.”
    “Julian and Marie-Claire. I can’t help thinking of her as Jane Eyre. I picture her looking like Mabel Ballin. Have you seen the film?”
    “Madge dragged me to the 1915 version, with Louise Vale,” Tommy said impatiently. “To return to business. We know that Julian and Jane—Louise—Marie-Claire, that is, you’ve got me thoroughly confused. They were married in Bristol and the marriage properly registered, so the legitimacy question