Barbara Taylor Bradford’s 4-Book Collection. Barbara Taylor Bradford
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him courage, and her determination to make their life normal gave him the strength to do the same. He said now, ‘About the dinner party tomorrow … did you invite Giorgio?’
‘No. Actually, I’ve decided not to see him any more.’
‘Oh!’ he exclaimed, surprised.
‘I discovered the other day, quite by accident, that he’s lied to me. Christian, he’s never been separated from his wife. Not ever. Apart from the fact that I can’t stand duplicity, I’m furious that he’s wasted my time. You know my feelings about married men – strictly no future.’
‘Who told you about Giorgio?’
‘Astrid. Who else?’
‘Ah! … I see. Then it must be true. She’s many things, our little Astrid, but not a liar. Nor a troublemaker. I’m sorry, Diana. I hope you’re not hurting too much.’
‘On the contrary, I think I’m rather relieved,’ she laughed. ‘The Latin lover is a myth, in my opinion. Looking back, I’m beginning to realize Giorgio was more in love with himself than with me; and to be honest with you, his silly games were starting to tire me.’
‘As long as you’re not sad or unhappy, darling. Incidentally, whilst we’re on the subject of romance, does Francesca know Astrid is coming?’
‘Yes. She doesn’t care. Anyway, she’s always liked Astrid. I think the affair with Kim caused her a great deal of amusement. Certainly she doesn’t blame Astrid in any way whatsoever. I don’t suppose Kim does either. He’s a big boy.’
‘Too true,’ Christian said, chuckling. ‘I think if anyone was upset it was poor Astrid. I know she didn’t want that liaison to come to an end, at least not when it did.’
Diana smiled. ‘Yes, she was a bit dramatic at the time. But she soon found consolation elsewhere.’
They paused at the door of the library, and Christian said, ‘I’m going to try to finish my Mozart piece for the Sunday Times. I want to get it off to London tomorrow. What are you going to do this afternoon?’
‘Finalize the details for the dinner.’
‘I’ll see you later then,’ he said as he wheeled himself into the library and closed the door.
Turning, Diana saw Francesca running down the main staircase. She waved and went to meet her. ‘Where’s Victor?’
‘In his suite, which he loves by the way. He’s making a call to Jake Watson in London. That’s the line producer on the film. Then he’ll change his clothes and we’ll go for a walk. Do you want to come with us?’
‘Heavens no, darling. I wouldn’t dream of intruding,’ Diana laughed. She linked her arm through Francesca’s and they walked down the hall together in the direction of Diana’s den.
Francesca looked at her cousin. ‘Dibs, I think Victor’s finally beginning to notice me. I mean me as a woman.’ She was unable to hide the joy she was feeling.
‘I know he is, I caught the look he gave you, when you were getting your food, and he didn’t take his eyes off you all through lunch. Frankly, I thought he was going to eat you up right there and then.’
Francesca glowed. ‘You do like him, don’t you, Dibs?’
‘Yes. He’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen. But more importantly, he’s terribly nice and intelligent and kind. Yes, of course I like him. He’s very special, and this may sound like an odd thing to say, but I trust him. I don’t mean on a man to woman basis necessarily. Rather, I mean I trust him in the broadest sense of that word – you know, on a human level. I think he is loyal, that he’d be a really good friend, and that one could count on him in a pinch. Am I making sense?’
‘Yes you are. As a matter of fact, Daddy liked him too, the night we all had dinner together. Afterwards, he told me he thought Victor was a good human being. Quite a compliment coming from Daddy, wouldn’t you say?’
‘Yes indeed.’ Diana opened the door of her den, which also served as an office. ‘Enjoy yourself. Tea in the sitting room around four-thirty, four-forty-five.’
‘That’ll be lovely, Dibs.’ Francesca leaned over and kissed Diana on the cheek.
Diana was halfway through the door, when she stopped and glanced over her shoulder at Francesca. ‘By the way, darling, we’ve simply got to break him of that bad habit.’
‘Which bad habit?’ Francesca frowned.
‘Calling you kid all the time. Most unromantic.’
‘We can’t! I mean, that’s affectionate, coming from him!’
Diana gave her cousin a look of mock horror and then disappeared through the door, smiling to herself.
They were high on the mountain, nowhere near the top, but well above the Schloss nestling far below in the pines, a doll’s house now, its size and grandeur lessened by the immensity of the surrounding landscape.
Victor and Francesca had been walking for a good half hour, taking the upward-winding road at a steady pace. They had not talked very much since leaving the house, caught up as they were in their private thoughts. But there was a tension building between them, and this sprang from their awareness of each other. Knowing she had finally elicited a response from him filled her with excitement; for his part, he fully understood, at long last, that she was vulnerable to him.
What the hell, I’m also vulnerable to her, he said to himself. Well, for the moment anyway. He stole a sidelong glance at her, took in the proud tilt of the shapely head, the honey-coloured hair turned to a deep golden hue by the late afternoon light. His eyes dwelt on her. The Loden cape she was wearing was far too large, more than likely Christian’s, but its bulkiness only served to emphasize her fragility and delicacy, and she seemed defenceless and feminine, more so than ever.
When she had taken him up to see his suite after lunch, he had been filled with her, had had to stifle the urge to take her in his arms, to make love to her without preamble. The scent of her had lingered with him long after she had left, and her image had danced before his eyes for the entire twenty minutes he had talked to Jake in London. During the course of their business discussion, Jake mentioned that Nick had been trying to reach him from New York. Nothing important, it seemed. Nick had merely wanted to touch base; he had told Jake to pass on the message that he would call again next week.
Now, as he trudged along, Victor’s mind strayed to Nicky and he was momentarily saddened himself. Poor bastard. I don’t envy him. I bet he’s been through the wringer half a dozen times by now. Victor sighed and glanced again at his companion, this lovely, willowy girl, striding out next to him through the snow. She was so vibrant, so full of life. All at once his sadness lifted, and he experienced such a surge of joyousness, he was startled, and he began to reflect on the reason for his abrupt swing in mood. Don’t analyse, just accept it, he said under his breath.
They continued in silence for some time, following the steep path into the heart of the forest. Here the stately ancient firs were massive, interlocking overhead to shut out the sky, and all was green darkness, infinite stillness, and gentle peace in this soaring cathedral wrought from nature. But as the trees began to thin out, rays of light, faint, fading, intermittent, were penetrating the cool darkness here and there, creating a delicate pattern-play of shifting shadows on the pale ground. A shaft of brilliant sunshine broke through, glazing the windswept snowdrifts with a silvery sheen, turning the icicles bedecking the trees into shreds of shimmering crystal. Everything was bathed in this iridescent light, the scene ethereal and breathtaking in its silent beauty. Victor thought: Oh God, it’s so good to be alive. And it was then that he remembered his vow not to fritter away his time, made on the day he had learned of Marcia’s