'Sport? It was like watching a dogfight, seeing who could snap closest to the bone.'
'You are intense about it!' Bay put a kiss against her brow, and with a sudden contriteness, a strange guilt drawn from the depths of herself, Dina turned her lips to his and kissed him with a rare fervour.
'I wish we were married, Bay-'
'I wish it too, honey, but we have to wait while Mam and Bella enjoy themselves with the trousseau, the invitations, the plans for our trip through Europe, the organ music and the cake. We can't spoil their fun, Di, not when we mean so much to them.'
'The thought of all that show is giving me the horrors,' Dina said tensely. 'I wish we could just, do what lots of other couples do. Jump into a car and head across the border into Mexico and be married there, quietly and quickly, with no fuss at all.'
Td like that as well, darling, but I can't disappoint Mam.' He placed a kiss against Dina's left ear. 'Being an only child has its responsibilities, and once all the preliminaries are over you'll love being a white bride, all glowing and silky and carrying a long spray of those bell-mouthed lilies. You'll look great, Di. I'll be the envy of every other guy—say, you do seem in a fond mood tonight,' as her arms tightened about his neck, 'and there was I thinking at times that you weren't a girl to go all that crazy over the idea of marriage. I don't really know you, do I, Di?'
'Of course you know me, Bay.' She said it with more conviction than she felt. 'Why, we met when I was thirteen and you were sixteen and your mother invited me to your birthday party. I can remember how thrilled Bella was.'
Yes, thought Dina, thrilled because at last those clouds hovering over her infancy had finally rolled away and Senator Bigelow's wife had decided that the slender schoolgirl with the fair shining hair was a suitable person for her son to associate with. Bella had taken her into Los Angeles to buy a special dress for the party and an expensive gift for Bay. Her plans had been laid that day and firmly built upon ever since, and the culmination would be the joining in matrimony of her goddaughter and the most eligible young bachelor for miles around. A young man who had birth, breeding and good looks, and money of his own settled on him by his grandfather.
I want to be thrilled, Dina cried out inside herself. I want to be wildly, romantically in love. I want to feel something when I think of being married.
'Come along, honey, it's time you wrere tucked up in your little wooden bed.'
'I'm not a child, Bay!'
'Whoever suggested that you were?'
'You—the way you're talking to me, as if I have to be pacified because I hated that slamming match between a pair of grown men trying to prove their superiority. Men are the ones who behave like overgrown kids at times!'
'Okay, so it was a crazy kind of game, but Ventura phoned me and made this bet and I wanted to beat him, especially when I remembered
what Bella said about him, that he had bought the Penrose place with bent money.'
'How do you know it's bent?' Dina demanded. T don't suppose his money is any more dirty than anyone else's—oh, why can't Bella let sleeping dogs lie? She, of all people, to drag skeletons out of closets when I have mine.'
'What the heck are you talking about?'
'The way my father lost his money, and the way he lived on the beach, soaked in wine until one day he vanished into the sea. It was never a secret. Bella took me in and made me acceptable to your sort.'
'Oh sure, my sort. We're not saints.'
'I'm glad to hear you admit it.'
'But there's something about Ventura that gets under my skin like a niggling grit. A sardonic air of seeing through you, as if he has radar eyes and has lived while I've been playing with my kiddy car. You don't like him either, Di, that's for sure.'
'No—I don't like him,' she said quietly.
'Then let's forget about him. I guess if Bella has her way he'll have things made so thorny for him hereabouts that he'll be glad to sell up and go elsewhere, to act the fake gentleman.'
'Fake is hardly the word.' Dina couldn't have prevented herself from making that objection had she tried.
'Then what is the word?'
'He has what Latins are born with and what other men have to acquire.'
'Is that so?' A stiff note came into Bay's voice. 'Do enlighten me on what this Italian cafe owner has that I haven't got.'
'The audacity to be himself,' she replied. 'Shall we now make tracks for my little wooden bed—
which really isn't so little, being a Queen Anne fourposter which Bella had shipped over from England.'
'Do you know, Di, you sounded—almost provocative.'
'Did I?' Her smile was fleeting and left a curious ache on her lips. 'Well, you said you didn't quite know me, didn't you, Bay? But do any of us truly know ourselves?'
'Maybe not, but there's something I'd place a high bet on, something you have, honey, that went out with button-up shoes when it comes to a lot of other girls these days.'
'And what is that, Bay?'
'Virtue.' He said it in a kind of tight-lipped voice, and Dina had an idea that he blushed; it was too dim in the gazebo to really make out more than the gleam of his eyes.
'Virtue,' she echoed. 'Is it the jewel that you prize above a skeleton in my closet?'
'I guess I do,' he said gruffly. 'That skeleton has very little to do with you, Di. You were a small, sweet kid and quite innocent of anything your father did.'
'Yes,' she murmured ... and so had Raf Ventura been a small kid, innocent of knowing that the kind, laughing man who carried him on his shoulders was in reality Don Cicero, a leading figure in the underworld of Chicago in the twenties.
Distant events did cast their shadow, she thought. Making what Scott Fitzgerald had called a 'dark night of the soul'.
Yes, that was what she carried like a scar, and what Raf carried—a dark shadow on the soul. People sensed it in him because he was so dark to
look at, but her fairness of skin and hair was a camouflage that she wore like the chameleon.
On the day of her marriage she would wear glistening white satin and carry ivory-white lilies, and no one would really suspect that her heart was where it shouldn't be ... high on a sun tower, warming itself at a forbidden flame.
'May I kiss you?' Bay asked suddenly.
'Of course.' She lifted her face like an obedient child and only her lips felt the touch of his mouth ... the rest of her was fathoms deep in pure ice, cool, unmelting, as she slipped in and out of her fiance's gentle arms.
He didn't question the cool reserve of her response; for him she was a girl of virtue and that above all was what Bay Bigelow had been reared to prize and desire in his bride-to-be, along with enough charm of face and person to make him the envy of his peers. He didn't expect, let alone want, a desperately ardent fiancee. He had been taught that a lady didn't show her feelings, and as he and Dina strolled in the direction of the house, her arm was tucked within his, and her feelings were known only to herself.
CHAPTER FIVE
It had never occurred to Dina that there might come a time in her life when she would feel so unsettled that when she slept she had curious dreams that woke her at dawn, when she would rise while a mist still lay over the grounds, to saddle Major and ride the devils out of her system, and so be ready to face the day ahead of her.
No one guessed that she was holding a tight rein on a secret self that clamoured to break free of all the ritual and the eager preparations for her wedding day.
The day when she would become for always the property of these people who saw her as the perfect bride, who would become the charming young hostess of the house that was to be built on a plot of land on the Bigelow estate, and there with Bay found a small but agreeable family.
The preparations had now reached their peak and fitting for the lovely satin dress had begun. The glimmering material for the gown had come from Ceylon, where it had been entirely woven by hand, yards of it, providing enough for a train that would be edged by some beautiful
Austrian lace which Bella had never used. Slippers to match the dress were being hand-made at a shop in Hollywood that catered for some of the screen's most glamorous stars.
Dina felt as if this were a production rather than a wedding, but she maintained an outward calm
and managed to sail through the first fittings without a sign of the inward strain that she was feeling and which broke her sleep into strange eddies of fact and fiction.
There was never a shadow of doubt in her mind that she would go through with the marriage, but it would have been so much easier to face had Bay agreed to an elopement. To leave behind all the fuss and bother and with a special licence in his pocket to drive across the border and be the participants in a service that would be quick and witnessed by strangers who wouldn't stare and whisper, and gush compliments all through the reception.
But Bay was devoted to his mother, and being an only child he felt it his duty to provide her with the fulfilment of a real wedding day, one she could look back upon with pride, with all the correct and proper trimmings such as a towering iced cake that would be cut with the sword which a Bigelow had carried into battle during the war between the States, the delicious slices enjoyed with champagne from one of the best cellars in France. Photographs would be taken to be placed in an album specially made and stamped with the family name, and not forgotten would be the ritual of the bridal bouquet being thrown to the bridesmaids just before the happy couple sped away on the first lap of their honeymoon.
It seemed more like the wedding of Bella and Mrs Bigelow, for their excitement far outshone Dina's ... the single relief of those hectic days was the postponement of her godmother's vendetta with Raf Ventura. Bella had far too much to think about, and the culmination was that on the after-
noon of a crucial fitting she developed one of her migraine headaches, which Dina knew to be painful to a high degree, with a needlepoint of agony starting at the temple, blurring the vision, and then producing a spinning disc of light that cut objects into two. It was a swimming effect that could only be alleviated by complete rest in a darkened room, but when Dina offered to stay comfort to her godmother, Bella became agitated and insisted she attend the dress fitting, the last one before it was finally sewn and the train was attached.
'I don't like to leave you like this--'
'Do go,' Bella pleaded. 'You know how much I want everything to be just right, and the dress is so important—oh, the devil take this headache! Why-did it have to happen just now?'
'Because you've been hustling and worrying and getting yourself all tired out.' Dina bent over her godmother and pressed a kiss to her cheek, which felt feverish. 'Try to sleep, dear.'
'Dina.' Bella clutched at her with hot, dry hands. 'I've never told you this before, but I had feelings for your father that were more than fond, and I was in despair when he made such a wreck of his life. I don't want anything like that to happen to you, and Bay is such a nice boy, with good blood in him and the ingrained instinct to always do the honourable thing. He'll make you a fine husband and in time you'll have few regrets.'
'Oh, Bella, what regrets could I have-?'
'Do you think I'm blind, Dina? I've caught a look on your face at times which has caused me more concern than you might realise. I know that young girls dream of a romance that sweeps them
off their feet and makes everything seem enchanted, but it just doesn't last. It's only in films that the snow falls without turning to slush, and where the icing shines on at the end of the story. Believe me, you'll have something far more substantial than a dream. You'll have position, security, and none of the heartache that romantic love can cause. You'll be part of a dynasty, for the Bige-lows are among the founders of California, and their family tree is a solid one. You see, my dear child, we don't stay young and idealistic, we grow older and we learn that reality has firmer foundations than the raptures of youth. I have to be wise for you—you do see that?'
The feverish fingers clung to Dina's. 'You're Lewis's daughter and his streak of instability has always worried me in case it showed in you—you will abide by my wishes? You'll marry Bay no matter what devil whispers in your heart that he'll never be a wild and impetuous lover? Oh, this damned head of mine! I—I'm seeing lightning-'
'Do relax, Bella, or the migraine will get worse.' 'Promise me-'
'I never break my promises, you know that.'
'You never have, but lately there's been a subtle change in you. Is it that man?'
'NoI' Dina felt shocked, as if someone had hit her across the windpipe, for there was no question in her mind that her godmother referred to Raf Ventura.
'I know he's unsettled you, and it's psychological—Lewis was ruined by that kind of man-'
'I don't plan to be ruined by any man.' Dina had to force some lightness into her voice or have an
attack of the kind of despair that the Tolstoy novels were full of. 'I'm off for that fitting you're so concerned about, and I'll call in at Royal and Weale to see if my satin slippers are ready. If so I can bring them home and you'll soon get better so you can see them and make sure they're exactly as you wished them to be.'
'Am I being a despot?' Bella asked, with a slighdy pathetic note in her voice that was quite out of character. 'It's just that I want everything to be perfect, so that long afterwards people will remember your wedding and say how matchless it was. I—I want nothing to go wrong—you'll go straight to the fitting, see about your slippers and come directly home?'
'Of course I shall. Now close your eyes and go to sleep, and when you wake up the pain will be gone.'
'You're a good chdd, but don't dawdle—that fitting is at three o'clock.' I'm off! 'Bye!'
Today that early mist had developed into something more opaque, and it had not dispelled itself by the time Dina arrived at the fashion home. She travelled in the elevator to the third floor and was greeted at once as a valued client, and she spent the next hour being fussed over and fitted into the almost completed dress.
It was undeniably lovely, being almost gothic in its simplicity of line so the glimmering material was shown off to advantage, as would be the necklace of diamonds she would wear on the day of the wedding. Dina found the train a trifle cumbersome, but her bridesmaids would cope with that, so she didn't say anything. She smiled and nodded
and was as serenely agreeable as she had been throughout her 'ordeal' as she secretly thought of it.
It was an intense relief when she finally made her escape from the scented, almost precious atmosphere of this shrine to fashion, being escorted to its doors by the designer of her dress.
'Nevaire 'ave I been so delighted with a garment I design from my own 'ead,' the little Frenchman assured her. 'Like Punch I am pleased and I 'ope that the so charming Mees Caslyn is also 'appy?'
'Stunned is the word, monsieur,' and she stood there while he kissed her hand and stared at her ring as if assessing its glittering value down to the last centime.
'You will make a dazzling bride,' he told her, and his smiling teeth were unnaturally white under the dark moustache that was as slender as an actress's eyebrow. 'Nevaire 'ave I seen skin and 'air as fair as yours, Mees Caslyn. They are natural, hein, and not from the bottle as is too often the case in this city of 'ollywood.'
'You're more than kind to say so, monsieur, and
now I have another appointment-' Dina moved
her hand within his. 'I don't want to be late.'
'Ah, thus it is with a bride-to-be, dashing from one place to another. Do wish upon your good tante my desires that she soon be well again.'
'Indeed I shall. Au revoir, monsieur!'
'Au revoir, Mees Caslyn, and do be careful how you drive in the smog which seems to 'ave come down a leetle thicker. Bah, what stuff, and so trying to the eyes!'
'Yes, isn't it?' Dina hurried away, making for the
boulevard where the shoemakers Royal and Weale were situated, and she saw the mist quivering in the crowns of the palm trees and twisting like fain
t silver ribbons around their sculptured trunks. There seemed to be a faint husky whispering in the upper air, and Dina was gazing upwards when she walked right into someone and felt herself grasped by hands like steel claws. I am sorry—oh !'
Dina stiffened as if electricity had gone through her. She was confronted by a man in a tan safari suit with brown trimming, and as she stared at him a jet sliced its way through the white mist overhead and its roar was in her head and she felt dizzy for a moment, as if she might fall over.
I fled him, down the nights and down the days ... and then she was aware again, with all her senses strung on fine quivering wires inside her motionless body, concealed behind her pale mask of a face. To other pedestrians passing by they were a man of singular darkness and a young woman of striking fairness ... they didn't know that Dina had just walked into the devil's web.
'What an unexpected surprise,' he said, that curiously attractive rasp in his voice that had sawn into her, the last time they had been together. He smiled and half-bowed and both actions were infinitely sardonic. Dina stood speechless, remembering acutely the pain which she had caused him ... now he was the image of the suave man about town, his hair like a black casque above his dark distinctive features ... only when she looked into his brazen, dangerous eyes did he let her know that nothing was forgotten between them, least of all that she was a girl on the threshold of marriage to
another man.
'I—I'm on my way to see if my—my wedding slippers are ready,' she said, and her voice sounded as strained as a schoolgirl's.
'You thought you'd be in time, eh?' he drawled. 'Well, if you're bound for Royal and Weale then I'll walk along with you.'
'No, Raf.' She backed away from him, almost into a pram that a young nursemaid was pushing along. Raf reached out and caught at Dina's wrist, holding her steady. She flushed and looked at him with pleading eyes, but nothing softened in his face; his eyes were like steel, to match his fingers holding her.
'You can hardly stop me, Dina. I'm on my way there to pick up a new pair of riding boots, and it would be a trifle infantile to go single file when we can keep each other company. What's the matter? Do I embarrass you?'
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