by Margaret Way
'Ah,' said Raymond, 'and how is your dear mother? The new style I gave her was very nice.'
Brooke acknowledged this very pleasantly and stood up. 'For Lucia I thought a mid-length, blow-waved back from her face.'
'Leave this to me, young lady!' Raymond said repressively, and Brooke smiled and quietly went away.
If anyone could make Lucia look super it was Raymond.
By the time she got back later on in the afternoon she knew she right, for Raymond had transformed his latest client from a quiet little mouse into a doe-eyed little fawn. Brooke was thrilled and Lucia couldn't stop smiling. Even Raymond seemed cheered, his smile flashing like the sun breaking through clouds, d when on a street corner both girls were whistled . Lucia threw up her glossy head with its full silky fringe, acting for the first time like an attractive young woman. It occurred to Brooke then that Lucia had begun her blossoming.
CHAPTER SIX
Now she had committed herself to Paul, Brooke found it impossible to go back. Before she had sailed through her life with a few rough bits, but now it was like being out in a power boat with everything happening so fast there was no time to worry about anything. The pace was dazzling and she was assailed with invitations from every side. Everyone wanted to meet her fiance. They'd heard of him, of course, who hadn't? But now they wanted to meet him before they were invited to the wedding.
As her fiance, Paul escorted her everywhere, but never once did he kiss her mouth, just a hand or a cheek, although he was always extremely courteous and mindful of appearances. Everyone thought it the romance of the year and Paul responded with an excellent characterisation of a man very deeply and happily in love. In public, that was. In private there was no hint of the lover in his attitude. Brooke and Lucia might have been interchangeable, so gently and benignly were they indulged.
Lillian was in her element, playing hostess with unlimited funds. There were parties and brunches all over Christmas and the holiday period, and the Ashton treasures were finding their way back into the house. By now, Paul had bought it and the wedding date was set for January the eleventh, Lillian's birthday. There was no way to turn back and everyone, with the disturbing exception of Carla, seemed delighted. Their engagement party at Christmas had been wonderful, with over three hundred guests and Wintersweet looking as it hadn't done since long before Grandfather had died. Even Maggie was slightly giddy working at Paul's pace, negotiating the transfer of certain antiques with the buying' price made so attractive very few collectors turned it down. The restoration of the house and garden continued at a breathless rate, with workmen and gardeners all over the place and vans pulling up with all the missing pieces of furniture Maggie had found or bringing still more wedding presents to fill every available spare room.
There were hundreds of expensive gifts to bind Brooke more tightly than ever to her dynamic, enigmatic fiance. The qualities that had made him a millionaire were being exhibited to the household every day and Brooke concluded that any other man would have been broken by ulcers. Yet somehow Paul continued to oversee all his various enterprises, run Maggie off her feet, escort Brooke everywhere, present himself at Wintersweet every day to check on the work done, and effortlessly charm Mamma and Louise.
A settlement had been reached between Mamma and Paul, but Brooke thought there was no point in, asking about it. Her mother was warm and gay and smiling all the time, and she and Louise had had a wonderful time selecting Brooke's trousseau, plunging their pretty hands ecstatically into the mounting exquisite piles of lingerie and the fantastically beautiful night attire. Though she felt like it, Brooke didn't permit herself one sour smile. Paul was unlikely to see her in any of that!
The night before her wedding Brooke shut herself in her room and cried her eyes out. She would have continued with abandon, only Mamma stood outside the door, knocking and calling anxiously.
'Darling girl, let me in !'
For a moment Brooke considered feigning deafness, but she knew her mother wouldn't go away. She rolled off the bed, hastily wiped the tears from her green eyes and went to the door, throwing it open so her mother could come inside.
Lillian's blue eyes were full of motherly concern. 'Precious girl!' she said, staring up at her daughter, 'don't cry any more, you'll ruin your looks and you'll want to be your most beautiful for Paul! '
This seemed to make matters worse. Brooke gave a groan and collapsed on the bed, and Louise who had been hovering outside rushed into the bedroom. 'What is it, Mamma? What's wrong with her?'
'Just a little case of bridal jitters,' Lillian said soothingly. 'It happens all the time.'
Louise went over to her sister and patted her arm. 'It's going to be a lovely wedding, Brooke. Your dress is gorgeous and so is mine. Make sure when you throw your bouquet I get it!'
'Not to worry, darling t ' Lillian smiled. 'You're going to dazzle them in London. I think we'll go there first. Travelling is heavenly if one stays at all the best places and I've promised Paul I'll visit his sister in Kenya. They have a beautiful property, I believe. I'm sure they wouldn't recognise little Lucia. We really have done wonders for the child. She looks almost pretty these days! '
'Brooke?' Louise asked tentatively. It was obvious Brooke wasn't listening to one word their mother was saying.
'It's all right, go to bed.' Brooke sat up and smoothed her tumbled hair. 'I always cry when I'm in a particularly happy frame of mind.' Her hands were trembling, but she hoped neither her mother nor Louise would notice.
'Yes, we'll all go to bed! ' Lillian agreed, and got to her feet. 'God bless you, my darling.' She moved on tiny feet over to her younger daughter to kiss Brooke's cheek. 'I know I shall weep tomorrow. Dearly beloved, we are gathered together …'
'Please, Mamma!' Brooke cried so piteously that Lillian broke off in amazement.
'You're tired, darling. It's been all too much for you. Louise, go downstairs and get your sister some hot milk.'
'Better still, a brandy!' said Brooke, and began to laugh.
A long look passed between Louise and her mother. 'Very well, a brandy, then. Hurry along, Louise. My little girl' needs something to steady herself! '
'That's true enough, I'm nearly at breaking point! '
The light shone on Louise's pale hair. For a moment she stood rigidly, her blue eyes fixed on her sister's face. 'You love him, don't you, Brooke?'
Her desolate expression thrust a knife in Brooke's tender heart. 'Of course I do, darling. Are you sure I haven't hurt you? After all, not so very long ago we were planning on your wedding.'
Louise's eyes softened and she spoke in her gentle voice. 'I'd be no match for Paul, but you are. I'm not in the least jealous, you know that. He's wonderful to turn to, but I think he might be very difficult to live with. For me, at least,' she added hastily as her mother frowned. 'Everyone is envying you like crazy. Why do you think Cathy Benton went overseas? She couldn't bear to be here with you landing the biggest catch of the year. Paul is so exciting, so glamorous, but I think I'll like him best as a brother-in-law!'
'And your mother, dear, is overjoyed!' Lillian said firmly. 'When you first told me Paul wanted to marry you I couldn't believe it, but now I see it will work perfectly, and you're so good with Lucia. Of course it's all your teaching experience, and you're older. I swear I'd love my future son-in-law if only because he has kept Wintersweet in the family. Young people should start their married life in their own home, and what could be more perfect than here? Really Grandfather would be very pleased !' Lillian's eyes grew misty and she seemed very pleased and happy. 'Now, darling, I'll say goodnight. It's going to be a great day in the morning! ' She gave a little delighted laugh and slipped her arm around Louise's waist. 'Your turn is next, dear. Leave it to Mamma!'
Surprisingly Louise took this a little doubtfully; her blue eyes met her sister's and gave the faintest wink. 'I'll bring ,you up that little drop of brandy,' she promised, 'and I might have one myself. By the way, I never thought to tell you Patrick
has asked me to marry him.'
'Poor Patrick! ' said Lillian, and turned her daughter away. 'He's not nearly good enough for you.'
'You'd be surprised. He's changed!' Louise returned almost mockingly, and inside her bedroom Brooke overheard it and suddenly laughed. She hadn't had time to notice that Louise's own character had firmed over the past months.
St Martin's was packed. Patrick and Nigel acted as ushers, and found to their surprise that the groom had just as many guests as the bride. The occasion was formal and the time late afternoon, so the younger women guests wore flowers in their hair or ribbons and the smart matrons chic little bits of nothing.
Lillian looked entrancingly youthful and pretty as the mother of the bride and at the altar the bridesmaids stood waiting like a bouquet of sweet peas, with Louise as chief bridesmaid in a heavy shade of blue chiffon, Emma and Jane Carnegie, close friends of both sisters since childhood, in lilac and rose and the youngest bridesmaid, Lucia, in. a shade of pink vastly becoming to her colouring. The best man was the distinguished physician Dr Alessandro Bonetto and the groomsman Ross McClary, son and heir of George McClary the real estate tycoon.
At the rear of the church Brooke was trembling as if she was standing in an icy gust of wind. She looked very pale, very vulnerable, and most certainly more beautiful than she had ever looked in her life. Her dress was exquisitely fashioned of heavy magnolia satin and on her beautiful titian hair she wore a mantilla of Brussels lace that looked wonderful and drew little murmurs of surprised delight. Her bouquet was all white except for the green touches of foliage and it served to hide her shaking hands, but then it was time to move down the aisle towards the man who was waiting for her, and her godfather, Sir Anthony Carnegie, later remarked that he thought her so nervous he doubted whether they would make it.
The ceremony passed like a dream. Brooke seemed scarcely aware of anything except the dark stranger by her side. The only thing that sustained her was the thought that although he was now her husband she didn't have to sleep with him. Not yet! She was really overcome by the solemnity of what she had just done, the awesomeness of committing herself body and soul to this man called Paul Corelli.
Afterwards at Wintersweet they stood side by side receiving congratulations like Royalty with a public face, while inside Brooke was absolutely numb. Her face was faintly flushed with colour, her mouth glowed softly and her eyes were as brilliant as jewels. Paul had not kissed her at the end of the ceremony, though he had returned his vows with vibrant fervency to her hushed whisper. It seemed like a mercy they were now assailed by family and guests.
Bemused and shaken, Brooke went through the next few hours in a trance. A few times she had caught Carla staring at her with peculiar intensity, but nothing really registered except the unfathomable depths of Paul's eyes and the deep caressing timbre of his voice. If his accent seemed more pronounced she didn't notice, only searching in vain for a waiting look in his dark eyes. Paul Corelli, the hunger, the sleeping tiger. Hadn't she always called him that?
When she was left alone for a few seconds Carla surged up to her, showing far too much bosom for a wedding, her dark gaze fixed and feverish. 'Congratulations, cara,' she drawled softly. 'You have no ordinary man, you know that? I can tell you, I know that. He was mine before yours! '
'I don't believe it!' Brooke retorted as though she had an absolute belief in her new husband's integrity.
Carla seemed taken aback. 'Why don't you ask him?' she flared back, sounding goaded. '
'No need !' Brooke actually smiled for the benefit of he interested stares. 'Please excuse me, Carla, Lucia is trying to attract my attention.'
Lucia, in fact, was doing just that, determined to guard Brooke against Carla's strange jealousy; for unwisely Carla had given herself away on many occasions.
'Is everything all right, Brooke?' she asked urgently. 'Please do not take any notice of anything Carla might say. I think she has had a little too much to drink. Even I have had a glass of champagne! '
Before Brooke could answer Paul was by her side, so dark and handsome, so impeccably turned out she audibly caught her breath.
'It's time for us to leave, darling!'
There was no trace of sardonic mockery in his voice, yet the colour rushed to her cheeks and she refused to meet his eyes. Lucia threw herself at her father and he gathered her to him, kissing her tenderly, murmuring to her in their own language. After a moment Lucia drew back, her small face radiant, then shyly and very sweetly she saluted Brooke's satiny cheek; 'I am profoundly happy that we are now one family! '
She spoke with such obvious love and sincerity that the quick emotional tears glittered in Brooke's sparkling eyes. 'Thank you, darling! '
It was about ten o'clock, but the guests were still enjoying themselves immensely, wandering through the beautiful rooms and the floodlit garden, some still going back and forth to the buffets, others drinking the champagne that so enhanced such occasions, all 'of “them convinced they had witnessed an unbearably lovely ceremony. The groom was a dream and the bride couldn't have looked more beautiful.
Paul had insisted it was necessary to take a short honeymoon of sorts and it had been agreed they would go back to the penthouse for that one night, then they were due to fly to San Francisco in the morning.
Paul's commitments at that time only allowed a short week for being out of the country. Later on they would take a world trip. It never occurred to anyone to disbelieve a word of it.
The good wishes and congratulations continued to pour over them right until the minute they pulled out of the drive. No one dared tie anything to the Lamborghini's bumper bar and the last thing Brooke saw was her sister's face, beautiful with love and pleasure. Patrick was beside her and Louise had caught her bouquet. Brooke tilted her head back, drooping a little in the seat.
'It's all over,' her husband said quietly.
'No, it's begun! ' she answered, faintly hysterically.
'Calm yourself, darling,' he said sombrely. 'We are man and wife and I feel it deeply, but I have promised you I will respect your wishes.'
She coloured, then paled and stared out the window at the familiar flying miles. 'What time do we leave in the morning?'
'Not early, noon.' He turned his head and glanced at her for a few seconds. 'You look like a swan. I was very, very proud of you.'
Her skin gleamed like a pearl in the faint light and she was moved by some kind of passion in his voice. If he touched her or spoke to her again in that deep caressing voice she would burst into a storm of weeping, an agony of knowing herself wanted but not loved; He had great power over her and she knew in her heart he could break her. She shut her eyes quickly and passionately, and when she opened them again they were back at Paul's penthouse.
Her heart began to beat with a new rapidity, but he appeared even more self-assured than ever. 'Come, little one, before you pass out on me.'
She hesitated for a moment, then she gave him her hand and he drew her out of the car, holding her still for a moment and looking down at her shining beauty. Her green eyes were incandescent, very wary and feminine.
'Please let's go up. I feel strange in this dress.'
'Really?' One winged Mack eyebrow shot up. 'I love it. Were it not for your eyes and your woman's mouth you would look celestial. Tell me, why did you not change?'
'There didn't seem much point! ' There was a hard lump of excitement in her throat, an anguish of forbidden desire, and he was a very sensual man. She feared him, but most of all she feared herself. The little excited pinpoints of gold in her eyes were both provocative and dangerous.
Inside the apartment it was very hushed. 'Is Gianni coming back?' she asked foolishly.
Paul's low laugh was mocking. 'Please, bambina! You would shock him out of his mind with such a question. He believes us to be deeply in love.' He flicked a switch and the apartment was bathed in soft lights, visually very tranquil, yet exotic. The paintings and the gleaming collection of Tibetan gilt bronzes we
re spotlit, the golden figures of gods and goddesses and Buddhas floating in vibrant pools of light.
Brooke turned her glowing head and looked back at Paul, the colour flaring under her skin. His physical hold on her was shaming, yet she admired his brilliant mind. He looked very masculine, sophisticated, yet openly sensuous. A chain of bizarre images unfolded in her mind and she moved lightly and swiftly across the room as if to escape her own imagination, staring out at the dazzling diamond lights of the city by night.
She felt tears prick her eyes, but she didn't care. She was a married woman and instead of being rapturously happy she was lost in a bitter-sweet torment. There could be no easy relationship with Paul. His nature and temperament would demand total involvement.
'What is it, little one?'
He spoke with kindness and understanding, but she knew if he touched her she would burst into flame.
'Nothing, I'm a little tired!' He had come to join her, staring out over the fairy lights, his profile, except for the faint hump at the bridge of his nose, that of a beautiful classical statue. But statues didn't have black eyes that sparkled and voices that could melt stone. Her face must be very easy to read, the panic and bewilderment.
