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

The small, beautifully shaped trees that lined this exclusive little enclave were twined with sparkling white lights. That lifted her spirits as well. She had never been to this restaurant before. She liked it. Trust Boyd to find it. The staff were unobtrusive but she realised they were being waited on hand and foot. No doubt Boyd always left a large tip.

“Feeling better?” Boyd asked. She was aware that he had been studying her right throughout the meal.

“How could I not be? This is a seriously good restaurant.”

“Our secret,” he said, giving her a smile that made her shiver.

She leaned forward to whisper, “It doesn’t just cater to you, Boyd Blanchard. I’m going to bring friends here. They ought to be famous.”

“Your friends?” He lifted a black brow, pleased to see she was looking happier.

“No, the chefs at this restaurant. How precisely am I getting home? Or are you going to suggest I walk?”

“I bet you could do it too.” He finished his short black coffee, then lifted a hand for the bill. “How is it you look like an ethereal dream when you’re so athletic?” He slanted her a mocking smile.

“I aim to be strong,” she said. “I work out.” She watched him add a substantial tip to the bill before handing the plate along with his platinum credit card, back to the waiter, who had appeared like a genie from a bottle.

Back out on the pavement, a good-looking young busker was moving around, violin tucked into his neck, playing the most romantic of solos. He had to be one of the Conservatorium’s best students, Leona thought, because his playing was absolutely top class, thrilling really. One reason perhaps why he hadn’t been moved on. A small crowd was sitting listening, and there were intermittent bursts of applause, while others continued strolling. The scintillating environment drew the crowds, day or night.

“Leave him something,” Leona prompted, in the next breath realising that Boyd had no need of a prompt.

“I usually do,” Boyd told her dryly. “I’m a very generous man. Haven’t you noticed?”

Once she was accidentally bumped by a slightly manic young man wearing huge yellow sunglasses, no matter it was night-time, obviously showing off to his giggling girlfriend. Boyd quickly tucked Leona in to his side. “Real catch, isn’t he?”

“They’re probably both at school. So do we shout for a taxi here?” She tried hard to sound composed, but she wondered if he could feel her trembling.

“My thoughts were that you should stay the night,” he said.

In an instant her blood changed course. It began to whoosh madly up against her artery walls. She didn’t know what was going to happen next.

“Don’t have visions of my trying to seduce you,” Boyd told her smoothly. “It’s not going to happen. I’d just feel a lot happier if I had you in plain sight.”

She felt so foolish, standing there, bereft of words. “I’m not suicidal,” she managed at long last. Not suicidal, just wired inside. Stay the night! He wouldn’t have to try a centimetre to sweep away her every last inhibition. She thought of him, pulling her to him, his hands on her, his mouth on her … Oh, God! Even the godless prayed when they were in trouble, she thought. Not that she was godless. She was definitely a believer. This was the worst thing and the best thing that could happen to her. She should agree right away.

“Staying over is out of the question!” she said, swallowing hard. Another minute and she would lose touch with all reality. It was a huge problem being in love with someone—at the same time making sure they didn’t know it. Soul-destroying really to have to hide one’s feelings from the person you loved most in all the world. But how could she make a clean breast of it when he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—or worst of all, didn’t feel the same as she did. Love was terrible, terrible, terrible and there were many degrees of it.

“How you do go on, Leo,” Boyd gently mocked her. “It seems like a very good idea to me. You’ve had a huge upset. Dad really can be the most callous of men.”

“I have to say he is. There’s such an emptiness in him. And, behind the powerful persona, a strange neediness. Jinty, on her own admission, can’t fulfil his emotional requirements. Probably after we left a huge fight broke out.”

Boyd gave an ironic laugh. “Jinty would have backed down fast. She surprised me when she said she had concerns about Dad’s health. She’s never mentioned it before.”

They had paused at the junction, the traffic humming around them, predominantly luxury cars, waiting for the green light. “I thought Rupert saw Dr Morse on a regular basis?” she queried. She had a mental vision of Rupert’s dusky-cheeked glare. And, behind it, to her mind, a kind of raw, unresolved grief. Rupert at the best of times wasn’t a barrel of laughs, but that didn’t prevent her from feeling compassion for him.

Boyd looked down at her. Her beautiful skin was lustrous as a pearl in the city’s glow, her wind-tossed hair a glittering aureole around her small fine-boned face. She didn’t know how beautiful she was. Her beauty, like her musical speaking voice, was simply a part of her.

“I know Dad has been taking blood pressure medication for years now,” he said. “He’s drinking too much these days, which would probably reduce or wipe out the effect of the medication.” The light changed and they moved off as a couple, her arm linked through his. “People have stopped smoking in droves, yet Dad still goes for the Cuban cigars. I’ve said as much as I can say to him. He doesn’t listen anyway.”

“So how would you feel if he suddenly had a heart attack, God forbid?” Leona asked, feeling wretched. “Why don’t you just call this whole business off? At least for now. Let him come to terms with the unacceptable, if that’s at all possible. Besides, don’t a lot of men think one girl is as good as the next?”

Boyd’s laugh was without humour. “I’m definitely not one of them. I won’t call it off, Leo, because it suits me very well. What’s more, I refuse to talk about it further. You’ll just have to be good and slip into the role of being my fiancée. It won’t be difficult for a clever young woman like you. In a few months’ time, we’ll have the wedding. You can name the day. What about it?”

Her hand shot up as a gust of wind blew a thick skein of hair across her face. “Boyd, I can’t!”

“Why not?” he asked very reasonably, helping her tuck the long lock behind her ear.

“Because … because …” Red wine soothed. It also excited the blood.

“You don’t really know why not, do you?” he said.

“I do know you’ve set us on a very dangerous course. Your father was obviously intended by nature to be a tyrant. Maybe you will turn into a tyrant at some stage.”

“It can’t happen if I have you,” he retorted and pulled her closer. “I can always rely on you to pull me into line. Besides, do you know anyone better you’d like to marry?” he asked, dodging an elderly man who appeared to be either dead set on walking into them or simply didn’t see them.

“I haven’t been thinking of marriage at all,” Leona lied. “I’m more into a career, or haven’t you noticed?”

A smile brushed his handsome mouth. “Leo, I know your job means a lot to you. You do it extremely well. Your job is safe. Bea has been known to frighten assistants to death but the two of you get on very well.”

“Well, I’m used to frightening people.”

“Tell me about it,” he groaned.

They were back inside the apartment, which was more like a house. She went about switching on lights that were grouped on slim, elegant power boards. “This is some pad! We could be high up on a mountain. Far away from the world.”