“I’d give my soul for the earrings alone,” one of the Blanchard wives was heard to whisper to her husband, perhaps as an incentive for him to work harder.
Leona felt she knew better than that. The soul was sacred. Bad enough to give your heart away.
Boyd was much in demand. So much so it was difficult to get near him. Even Tonya’s all out efforts at seduction were being sabotaged. One of the great-uncles, a distinguished High Court judge had detained Peter who, though desperate to get back to Leona’s side, was compelled to pay his respects.
It was a beautiful evening, the great coffered dome of the sky awesome with stars. Some of the guests had begun to step outside for a breath of garden-fragrant air and to cool the overflow of emotions induced by Jinty’s scintillating performance. Turning her head, Leona just chanced to see Jinty quietly remove her diamond pendant earrings—which must have been quite heavy—and slip them into a Limoges ormolu mounted covered bowl, one of a collection on a small circular table that was supported by two gilded swans, their long elegant necks bent.
Now that was careless. Reckless, even. It would be a disaster if any part of the suite went missing. Clearly Jinty trusted everyone, guests and servants alike. Not that Leona didn’t, but still … She couldn’t in a million years have done it, was amazed that Jinty had. She couldn’t begin to imagine Rupert’s wrath if the earrings disappeared. Not that anyone foolish enough to attempt such a criminal act could hope to sell them on the open market. In their own way, the “Blanchard Diamonds” were famous.
Right away she headed towards Jinty to what … remonstrate with her hostess … issue a warning? Jinty wouldn’t take kindly to that; married to Rupert Blanchard, she was queen of all she surveyed. Nonetheless Leona was halfway across the room, chiffon skirt flowing, a springtime nymph in flight, when a black-jacketed arm reached for her.
“What’s the hurry?”
Excitement surged. She spun to face him. “I was just going to … going to …”
“Get it out, Flower Face,” he urged.
What could she possibly say? Jinty has taken off the diamond earrings and left them in a Limoges porcelain bowl back there. Surely an unsafe place? It struck her forcibly that Jinty wouldn’t want Boyd to know that. The diamond suite, after all, would one day be handed down to Boyd’s wife.
“I was just going for a breath of air,” she managed, realising that Jinty needed protection.
“You mean you were going into hiding from Peter,” Boyd suggested dryly. “You really should put poor old Pete out of his misery.”
“I’ve never put him in his misery,” she said sharply. “I can’t help it if Peter’s got a bit of a crush on me.”
“Bit old for a crush, isn’t he?” Boyd offered in a sardonic tone of voice. “Peter must be twenty-eight.”
“So?” She stared defiantly into his brilliant eyes. “Haven’t you heard of men having crushes in their eighties? There was Goethe for one. Tolstoy, I’m sure. Great-Uncle William fell for that twenty-year-old ballet dancer, remember? People in their nineties find their one true love in nursing homes. There must be plenty of others.”
“Please, that’s more than enough,” Boyd said, drawing her to his side. “Don’t let’s have a brawl here. I’ve been praying we’d get a moment alone.”
“Praying?” The familiar banter had resumed. “I didn’t think you liked me all that much.”
“But I do enjoy kissing you,” he said, sweeping her out onto the terrace. “Where did you learn to be so darn good, by the way?”
“It’s called doing what comes naturally.” Leona smiled and waggled her fingers at Geraldine, who was standing with a little group of her closest family allies. Geraldine waggled her fingers back, her grey eyes sparking with interest.
“Then you were born an expert.”
“So were you.” There wasn’t time to add anything further.
“Quick, over here,” Boyd said, almost lifting her off her feet.
“Whoa!” She blinked, wondering what had happened, then it clicked. “Ah, you’ve spotted Tonya.” She didn’t bother to stifle her impish glee. “Or could it have been Jinty. She’s awfully fond of you.”
He was steering her down a camellia-lined path, walking fast. “I wish she’d remember she’s a happily married woman,” he said, as though it bothered him.
“That doesn’t make her immune to your appeal,” she mocked. “And is she so happy?”
They were sliding like shadows away from the broad circle of exterior lights and into the mysterious glimmering light beneath the canopy of trees. “Jinty treasures money,” he said.
“So do most people,” Leona added dryly. “They say they don’t, but they do.”
“Only Dad is in a position to be far more generous than most men. Money matters a great deal to women like Jinty.”
“So when Rupert says jump, Jinty has to jump.” Leona didn’t like the idea of jumping on demand.
“I guess that was the deal,” Boyd said, his tone dry as ash.
“Does it always have to be deals where there’s money?” she asked. “Shouldn’t love be stronger than any deal?”
“I’d like to think so,” Boyd said.
“Good thing you’re your own man then,” she mocked him. “Rupert has Chloe lined up for you.”
“Think I need you to tell me that?” He glanced down at her, this ravishing young creature who lived to cross swords with him. “This time Dad’s wishes and his judgement are way off kilter. I like Chloe. That’s a long way from falling in love.”
“My thoughts entirely. But she loves you,” Leona felt obliged to point out. “Listen, can you slow down? Those long legs of yours!”
“Sure,” he responded immediately. “Leo, I’m not about to offer Chloe Compton an engagement ring, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“It surely doesn’t matter what I think,” she said. “I’m only your cousin. Of sorts. Way down the pecking order. About three would you say on a scale of one to ten? If you did want to please your dad and offer Chloe an engagement ring, Tonya might well have a nervous breakdown. It wouldn’t be a pretty sight. Not to mention all your exes. Thought of that?”
“I’d be so pleased if you didn’t mention my exes,” he said. “Which does not include Tonya, by the way. Dad invites her just to annoy me.”
“I’m so glad you see that,” she said cheerfully. “But you have established quite a reputation as a ladies’ man.”
He brought them to a halt. “Stop, Leo,” he said. “I thought this afternoon might have been lesson enough for you.”
She turned up an innocent face. “This afternoon? I don’t recall.”
“Then let’s give you a reminder.”
In the second or so it took him to pull her into his arms Leona felt such a concentration of sensation—excitement, rippling desire, a meltdown in her limbs—it was almost terror. Boyd had the power to turn her inside out. Should she trust such power? Should any woman trust such power? And it wasn’t just blind sexual yearning. It was much, much more. Like salvation. Or finding her true home.
His soul. Her soul. One and the same. Or had they in kissing opened a door that should never have been opened? Only time would tell.
His hand was lightly around her throat, his thumb gently stroking her chin up to him.
“I want you,” he said, scarcely above a murmur.
She tried to speak and found she couldn’t. Instead, she gave a convulsive shudder. Fear or longing or a mixture of both? Common sense told her she should pull away. This was Boyd, the Blanchard heir. Out of her league.
“This is madness!”
“Then I’ve been mad a long time,” he said, his mouth trailing kisses all over her face.
Such an admission from Boyd made her forget everything. All sense of caution was in shreds.