Margaret Way - Diamonds are for Marriage - The Australian's Society Bride

“Most of us get to do our share of suffering, Leo,” he said in a taut voice, taking the cushion from her and throwing it onto an armchair. “Falling in love isn’t all that rational, is it? It blindsides us. Dad didn’t do anything too terrible. He didn’t go after Serena like he goes after everything he wants. He didn’t break up his marriage, which evolved into little more than shadow play, or hers. My mother stayed for me. Much as I’m not in a mood to say it, I have to consider Dad as a victim. Falling in love with the wrong woman could be a very special hell.”

“You think so?”

“I’ve waited a hell of a long time for you.”

That filled her with real shock, then a wave of elation that quickly gave way to suspicion. “So I was being seriously considered from early on?” She didn’t wait for an answer but swept on. “At some level you hate your father, don’t you?”

His handsome features tightened. “No, I don’t hate him, Leo,” he said, putting his hand over hers. “How can I? I don’t want to hate anyone. It does no good at all and he is my father. He’s always backed me.”

“Not in this!” Her breath fluttered and she drew her hand away from the surge in her blood. “Is that why you’re doing it?”

He trapped her hand again, his blue eyes burning into her. “I’ll forget you said that.”

“ Is it?” she persisted with a rush of emotion. “All of us can see there’s great rivalry between you.”

“The hell you can!” he bit off. “The rivalry is all on my father’s side. I’ve tried as hard as I know how to be a good son, a good heir. I know Dad had a very tough time with my grandfather. There was always the constant pressure on him to measure up. I feel pressure too, but not in the same way. I’m not at war with my heritage, which I’ve often felt Dad was. Rich kids, like Dad was, can suffer extreme emotional deprivation, Leo. You should know a bit about that.”

“Oh, I do,” she confessed, “and I wasn’t even a rich kid.”

“But you are part of the family.”

“Well, being taken under the wing of a rich kid like you was riches enough for me,” she said ironically. “And there’s the fact that my surname is Blanchard.”

“And it’s going to remain that way,” he assured her, a naturally dominant man.

She wanted nothing more in the world than to slump against him, have him gather her up. Didn’t he know she basked in his strength? Love for him was beating painfully in her throat. Even then she found herself unable to break free of the cycle of confrontation. “Because you say so?” she flashed.

“Because I say so,” he answered quietly.

“So it’s a kind of duty to marry you, is it?” It was stupid but she couldn’t seem to get control. “A bit like royalty? At least Leo knows how things work! She’s not likely to rock the boat. Once the family is over the initial shock, they’ll start to philosophise—well, it’s not all that bad, is it? Tailormade in a way. Leo is, after all, one of us. She has shown she knows how to conduct herself. No wild card there.” She broke off the perfect mimicking. “I tell you, Boyd, this whole thing has spooked me.”

“Is it any wonder?” His eyes were on the pulse that beat frantically in the hollow of her throat.

“And it can only get worse.” She had seen the harshness, the massive affront in Rupert’s face, and he was a man one crossed at one’s peril.

“My father isn’t going to fight me on this,” Boyd said, sounding utterly self-assured. “But, should he try, he’ll find for the first time in his life he won’t win.”

“ Second time,” she corrected and gave a broken laugh. “He lost out on my mother.”

His eyes held an electric blue flame. “Please forget that, Leo. It was nothing more than a fantasy. What’s real is this—I’m not going to lose out on you. I wouldn’t consider it for all the money in the world.”

“Nice to know then you’re not going to lose any,” she mocked. “I can’t pretend I’m overjoyed by your very pragmatic proposal. Deal , I suppose we should call it. I want to keep my dignity and my sense of self intact. It’s hard when I have to keep reminding myself I had to buy your silence to protect Robbie.”

“Is it?” Boyd gave a brief laugh, then rose to his six foot plus. “God, I’d almost forgotten Robbie, though he did precipitate matters. Our defining moment came when I caught you red-handed with the Blanchard Diamonds.”

“I gave them back, didn’t I?” She still felt the panic.

“Ridiculous! You didn’t take them in the first place. You love your kid brother so much you would even have taken the rap. Well, it’s time for a fresh start, Leona. For you and for Robbie. He has to quit the unloved boy act and his multiple addictions. The way you always cover for him is actually hindering his self-development. I’m telling you now. I’ve already told him. One more foolish move from him and he’s out on his ear. If I were Dad, he’d be as good as a dead man. Now, I think we should eat. You look as ravishing as ever, though a mite pale. I’ll change out of this T-shirt and jeans. Give me a few minutes. We can walk to the restaurant.”

They went out into the balmy night. A high sky awash with stars. They bloomed over the Harbour, as they always did over water, extravagantly beautiful diamond daisies. It seemed as if everyone in the world was in love as they made their way to the restaurant. Comfortably married couples, leaning in towards each other, strolled along the street or dipped into arcades, admiring the brightly lit, expensive speciality shops that included a society florist who charged an arm and a leg for a sheaf of long-stemmed roses. Music spilled out from somewhere. A very old favourite, but with a modern twist. Young lovers, interested only in one another, appeared unable to untwine their limbs. A family was coming at them four abreast, the youngsters clearly enjoying themselves and their night out on the town. The party split in two and fell to either side of Boyd and Leona, who smiled and thanked them.

Car lights threw streams of silver foil down the ebony surface of the road. Tail-lights glowed red; a kaleidoscope of colours from neon signs on the buildings. Traffic lights flashed red, amber, green. Busy cosmopolitan Sydney with such general goodwill in the air, Leona thought. They were looking towards Sydney Tower, one of the tallest buildings south of the equator. She had dined countless times at the Tower’s revolving restaurants, which afforded arguably the most splendid panoramic view in the world. Sparkling Sydney Harbour in all its magnificence: the Harbour Bridge, the iconic Opera House with its glistening white sails, surrounded on three sides by deep blue water, the city buildings and, beyond the city central, its famous blue and gold beaches. One could see clear out to the Pacific Ocean on the one side, the mountains of the Great Dividing Range to the other. Loving her home town the way she did, Leona felt a surge of pleasure.

Delicious Italian food further soothed her. Diners sat deep in conversation, some flushed with sexual invitation, reaching across to hold hands. She finished two glasses of an excellent red, then took the unprecedented action of asking Boyd to pour her another. She did enjoy a glass of wine, especially champagne, but she was no drinker. Rather she was discovering the numbing effects the fruity wine was having on her distress. She didn’t have to drive home —was she going to get home? They had finished one bottle. Now they were onto another. Boyd, as ever, looked perfectly sober. She imagined she did too. But mightn’t he be over the limit to drive? It didn’t take much. Blanchards shunned bad publicity and Boyd was ultra responsible. Maybe he planned on sending her home in a taxi, which perversely aggrieved her. There were plenty whizzing up and down outside.