Diamonds are for Marriage: The Australian's Society Bride

The humiliation was not to be borne. Neither was it to be permitted. Rupert Blanchard reached out for a small trophy that sat on his desk, then crushed it in his bare hand.

CHAPTER SIX

AS THEY CAME out of the study and walked quickly towards the entrance hall, they saw Jinty poised in an attitude of listening at the bottom of the staircase. Obviously she was wondering what was going on, so she had taken the opportunity to eavesdrop. What they didn’t know was that Jinty was also taking a near primitive satisfaction in the fact that Tonya, her own sister, had missed out. Not that she had ever had a chance, but then Tonya had never really caught on to the hard realities of life.

“Is everything all right?” she asked, adopting an expression of concern. Impossible not to notice the look of strain on their faces.

“Not exactly,” Boyd said, his tone almost breezy. “Dad isn’t best pleased by our news.”

“Did you think he would be?” Jinty asked, throwing out her hands, palms up. “He was sure you’d go for Chloe.”

“Maybe not. But did he—or anyone else for that matter—really think I was going to go along with his plans?” Boyd gave a slight grimace. “If he’s so very fond of Chloe he should divorce you, then ask Chloe to marry him. There’s every chance she’ll say yes.”

Jinty wondered if he weren’t spot on. “Actually, I rather liked Chloe,” she said. “A thoroughly nice, malleable young woman, but clearly she’s no match for Leo, who has so many things going for her.” The merest flicker of malice. “Should I go to him?” Jinty looked from one to the other. “Be supportive?”

“Of what, Jinty?” Boyd asked, very direct. “You’re going to back us, then?”

“Why, certainly!” Jinty said without a blink. “Somehow I’ll make your father understand that Leo is your choice. Heavens, the whole time we’ve been married, Rupert has doted on Leo. Occasionally it has made me quite jealous. God knows it’s no secret that Rupert doesn’t love me. We rub along well together, that’s all. I do have the certainty I’ll be a rich woman for life but there’s little in it for me of the heart. Shall I go to him?”

“Only if you want your head bitten off,” Boyd replied. “Dad could do that quite easily. Incidentally, has he seen Drew Morse lately? I think he should have a check-up; his colour didn’t look too good. The thing is there’s no crossing Dad. He can’t deal with it.”

“Well, that’s nothing new to me,” Jinty said and briefly shut her eyes. “Rupert expects everyone to obey his every whim. Anyway, I must apologise for Tonya.”

“Oh, gosh, whatever for?” Boyd asked sardonically.

“Poor Tonya never mastered the social niceties, which is one reason why she’s still unmarried.”

“Perhaps she should enrol in a personal development course,” Boyd suggested.

Jinty blinked, then reassumed her practised smile. “Be that as it may, I do sincerely wish you and Leo the very best, Boyd. Rupert can’t dictate everyone’s life.”

“Certainly not mine,” Boyd clipped off. “Now I’m driving Leo back to Sydney. No way do I want her driving herself after an upset like that. Ask Eddie to drive her car to her apartment some time tomorrow. I’ll organise someone to drive him back.” He glanced down at the silent Leo, who was looking and feeling shell-shocked. “We’ll collect our luggage and be off. Where shall we leave Leo’s keys, Jinty?”

“On the console table, please,” Jinty said, gesturing. She was already starting to walk down the corridor that led to her husband’s inner sanctum. “I have my own fears for Rupert’s health,” she paused to confide. “He drinks far more than is good for him and I can’t get him off his infernal cigars.”

“Picked up the habit from his own father and his father before him,” Boyd said, still scanning Leona’s pale face. “Let’s collect the luggage.” He spoke to her quietly. “I can’t wait to get out of this place.”

“Where are we going?” They were driving into Sydney before Leona came out of her reverie—a long internal dialogue that had never stopped.

Boyd was staring straight ahead. He too had been very quiet on the trip, which seemed to have taken record time.

“My place,” he said briefly.

For once Leona didn’t argue.

Fifteen minutes later they slid into the underground car park of Boyd’s grand old apartment building, which had undergone mammoth restoration only a few years before. Boyd had the penthouse, which was actually two units that had been turned into a very spacious unified whole. She had never been to the penthouse on her own but she had been invited many times to his dinner parties.

In silence they took the lift to the top, Leona not even knowing what she was doing. She felt so dazed and astounded by both Boyd’s and Rupert’s disclosures that she had difficulty taking it all in. It seemed to her like something out of a blockbuster novel filled with family secrets, money, sex and complex people with passionate unfulfilled yearnings. Or did novels only mirror real life? She had always known that Alexa’s marriage had been unhappy, but never in a million years would she have suspected that Rupert had fallen blindly in love, however briefly, with her own mother, Serena. Yet Boyd had known and he had never said a word.

Until tonight.

No wonder he felt so connected.

To her.

They were inside. Leona waited. She didn’t move.

“You’re in shock, aren’t you?” Boyd asked, closing thumb and finger around her chin, lifting it. He stared down into her face in concern.

“You know I am.” She turned her eyes away from his searching regard, staring at without really seeing a large, light-filled Australian bush landscape that hung above the modern console in the entrance hall.

“I don’t blame you.” He dropped his hand, then took her gently by the arm. “Do you feel like something to eat? We could eat here or we could go out. I know an excellent Italian restaurant within walking distance.”

She allowed him to lead her into the living room, with its double height coffered ceiling and contemporary architect-designed furniture. The total effect was one of supremely elegant individualism. Masculine, most certainly, modernistic, but welcoming to women. She knew Boyd had bought the place because of its history. This was one of Sydney’s grand old dowager buildings with stunning night-time views of the city skyline. As well there were those soaring ceilings and the classic architectural elements which included marvellous fluted columns that divided the open-plan living-dining area. Architects and decorators had worked around the clock before Boyd had moved in.

“Well?” he prompted, steering her towards a custom built sofa.

“I’m not hungry.”

“All the same, you should eat something. My father is a very devious complex character, but you can’t let him get to you. I for one am starving. I always have a very light lunch before a match—God, it seems like years ago instead of this afternoon—nothing at all at afternoon tea, there were so many people wanting to talk to me. I need to feel human again.”

“It was wrong of you not to tell me,” she said, clutching a striped silk cushion to her breast like some kind of defence.

He sat down beside her, intensity in his blue eyes. He was wearing a plain white T-shirt and navy jeans and even then he was handsome enough to take a woman’s breath away. “Tell you what?” he asked. “That my father was infatuated with your mother, who had no idea at all, for a brief period in their lives? What good would that have done?”

She turned on him fiercely, tears standing in her eyes. “It would have explained Rupert’s attitude towards me. He’s never seen me as a person in my own right. When he looks at me he sees my mother.”

“We all do, Leo,” Boyd pointed out gently. “For that matter, I couldn’t count the number of people who’ve remarked on the colour and shape of my eyes. Everyone in the family knows I inherited my eyes from my mother.”

“So some part of them does remain?” she asked more calmly.

“Definitely. Turn your head and the family see Serena. Turn your head and you’ll see Blanchards, dead or alive. Every family has its own genetic blueprint.”

She couldn’t be consoled. “It was sick, Rupert lusting after my mother. I can’t use any other word. She was a happily married woman. Besides, he had a most beautiful wife—your mother. I always knew Aunt Alexa had suffered.”

“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.

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.”

“Is that how you feel?” he asked in a voice that made her pulses drum.

“Leading question.” She continued wandering about as though new to the penthouse when she knew it well. “It all turned out very well, didn’t it? It’s sort of sculptural in a way. Masculine, but female friendly.”