by Sara Craven
‘And I didn’t just walk away. I ended up a total mess, and told myself I deserved it. That I should be ashamed, going to bed with a stranger. Risking pregnancy. The same thing had happened to a girl I knew, and it had damaged her life for ever.
‘In reality, I suppose I was going through a grieving process. And when I met your cousin, it seemed at first like a way back to normality. As if I’d been given some kind of reprieve.’ She tried to smile. ‘When in fact, we were two messes together.’
He said quietly, ‘Did you sleep with him?’
She gasped. ‘No—of course not. I could never...’ She stumbled to a halt. ‘That sounds terrible.’
‘A little,’ he said. ‘For the first time today, I almost sympathise with him.’
He paused. ‘I had no intention of going to my grandmother’s party, until I heard from Joanne that Gerard was taking his new girlfriend, and that she was called Alanna and had something to do with books. After that, you couldn’t keep me away.’
He gave her a straight look. ‘That first night at the abbey—you must have known I’d come to you. Why did you lock your door?’
‘For that very reason.’
Zandor shook his head. ‘Big mistake, my darling.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘For me—a question of survival. Never seeing you again was the cornerstone for the new life I was trying to build.’
‘But if you’d let me in, there’d have been no misunderstandings because I’d have told you everything, before or after our blissful reunion, including my well-founded suspicions that Gerard still loved Lili and always would. Then in the morning, we could simply have left for London and a new life together, thus cementing my position as black sheep of the family,’ he added ruefully.
‘But you can’t want that.’
He shrugged. ‘It was inevitable. My grandmother hated my father, regarded him always as the scum of the earth, although she had no scruples about taking money from him when the occasion arose. I’m my father’s son, so her dislike has been part of my inheritance. Coupled with the illusion that I’m also her private banker.
‘And Lili, of course, was my father’s daughter, so the real reason Niamh moved heaven and earth to split up her relationship with Gerard had nothing to do with their being cousins, as popularly supposed, but because she couldn’t bear to think of my sister, a Varga, as mistress of Whitestone Abbey.’
‘Well, she’ll have to bear it now.’
‘I doubt it. My guess is that Gerard and Lili will move to Paris or even New York. He can still operate as Bazaar Vert managing director from either, if he wishes. But he’s finished with the abbey.’
She said, ‘It’s certainly caused enough trouble. But why did your sister take him back—after the way he’d treated her?’
‘Because she loves him and always will.’ His voice was gentle. ‘It’s as simple as that. Which reminds me.’
He disappeared to the bedroom, and returned almost at once carrying a small box.
He drew her down beside him on the sofa. He said, ‘In spite of everything, I was absolutely convinced that we’d meet again, and that this time I was going to be ready. So while I was in New York, in spite of feeling battered and bruised, I bought you this. To keep the faith.’
On a bed of black velvet, the enormous solitaire diamond on its platinum band radiated light and fire.
‘We could go on rehashing all the past mistakes we’ve both made until the end of the world. But I’d rather live in the present and the future. With you.’
He took her hand, and slid the ring onto her finger.
‘Marry me, Alanna. Take the risk. Be my wife and make my life worth living again.’
She said, ‘I love you.’ And lifted her face for his kiss.
‘And I,’ he said, ‘love you, more than life itself.’
* * *
A long time later, lying in bed in his arms, totally fulfilled and gloriously weary, she said drowsily, ‘God knows what my parents are going to say.’
‘Well, we’ll soon find out. I thought we’d drive down tomorrow, so I can do the right thing. Ask your father’s permission, while you and your mother figure out the when and where of the wedding.
‘Anyway, they may not be too surprised,’ he added. ‘I don’t think they really bought into my asking for directions story.’
‘No,’ she said, remembering something her mother had almost said. ‘Perhaps not.’
‘And while we’re down there,’ he went on, ‘maybe we could have another look at Leahaven Manor. I had this picture of us there—a family. Crazy perhaps, but...’
She turned her head and kissed his throat. ‘Then we’re both crazy,’ she whispered. ‘Because I had the same picture. And it’s wonderful.’
* * * * *
Coming next month
KIDNAPPED FOR HIS ROYAL DUTY
Jane Porter
Before they came to Jolie, Dal would have described Poppy as pretty, in a fresh, wholesome, no-nonsense sort of way with her thick, shoulder-length brown hair and large, brown eyes and a serious little chin.
But as Poppy entered the dining room with its glossy white ceiling and dark purple walls, she looked anything but wholesome and no-nonsense.
She was wearing a silk gown the color of cherries, delicately embroidered with silver threads, and instead of her usual ponytail or chignon, her dark hair was down, and long, elegant chandelier earrings dangled from her ears. As she walked, the semi-sheer kaftan molded to her curves.
“It seems I’ve been keeping you waiting,” she said, her voice pitched lower than usual and slightly breathless. “Izba insisted on all this,” she added, gesturing up toward her face.
At first Dal thought she was referring to the ornate silver earrings that were catching and reflecting the light, but once she was seated across from him he realized her eyes had been rimmed with kohl and her lips had been outlined and filled in with a soft plum-pink gloss. “You’re wearing makeup.”
“Quite a lot of it, too.” She grimaced. “I tried to explain to Izba that this wasn’t me, but she’s very determined once she makes her mind up about something and apparently, dinner with you requires me to look like a tart.” dpg!
Dal checked his smile. “You don’t look like a tart. Unless it’s the kind of tart one wants to eat.”
Color flooded Poppy’s cheeks and she glanced away, suddenly shy, and he didn’t know if it was her shyness or the shimmering dress that clung to her, but he didn’t think any woman could be more beautiful, or desirable than Poppy right now. “You look lovely,” he said quietly. “But I don’t want you uncomfortable all through dinner. If you’d rather go remove the makeup I’m happy to wait.”
She looked at him closely as if doubting his sincerity. “It’s fun to dress up, but I’m worried Izba has the wrong idea about me.”
“And what is that?”
“She seems to think you’re going to…marry…me.”
Copyright ©2018 by Jane Porter
Continue reading
KIDNAPPED FOR HIS ROYAL DUTY
Jane Porter
Available next month
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