Sorrel sensed what a shock it must have been and touched his hand sympathetically. He caught it and held it fast. 'Not only did he tell me about the woman he had loved for so long,' he said quietly, 'he told me too about her daughter, a little girl at school. Her daughter… and his.'
She stared at him, everything falling into place. 'Bianca!' she breathed.
He nodded. 'My father recovered and lived for another seven years, and after his death I took over as her guardian. Her mother's health was failing by then and I was all the family she had. So you see, my darling…' he caressed the pure line of her jaw, 'there is no way you and I being together can hurt Bianca. Of course we love each other—but only as brother and sister.'
'And your mother still knows nothing?'
'And must never know,' he reiterated. 'She loved him right to the end. It would be too cruel to destroy her illusions now.'
Sorrel silently agreed. 'Thank you for telling me, Luc' She felt immensely proud that he had trusted her with his confidence, proud and honoured that this secret only Bianca and Luc himself knew, he had now shared with her. What was it he had said, that the place Bianca had in his life had caused problems before, but with her it was the first time it had mattered? Surely that must mean she mattered to him? And not merely as a possible conquest? But it would be dangerous to follow that line of thinking to its logical conclusion. Hadn't he already told her he wasn't going to pretend he had fallen in love with her? She mustn't read too much into these confidences and start dreaming about a future.
Even so, she knew she wasn't going to allow the lack of a future to spoil the chance of embracing the present. As long as she kept it light…
'It's very late, Luc' She watched his expectancy crumble and wondered if any other woman had succeeded in confusing him before. Smiling, she went on, 'Of course, you're very welcome to spend the night on my sofa. Personally, I'm going to bed… and I had rather hoped you'd want to come with me.'
With a growl he leapt to his feet, swinging her up into his arms. 'Tease… witch… temptress…' He started for the spiral staircase and she squealed, clinging to his neck.
'Luc… no! You can't carry me up there, you'll break both our necks! And even if you get us up in one piece, you'll be no good to me when we get there.'
'Casting aspersions on my virility now, are you?' But he swung her down on to the lower stair and with his hand on her bottom, pushed her up in front of him at a rush while she giggled breathlessly, all her doubts and inhibitions firmly shelved. She would take each day at a time, grasp whatever happiness was offered and be thankful for it without yearning for the impossible. Time enough after he had gone to torture herself with the bleakness of her future without him.
Leaving only the bedside lamp burning, she plunged the rest of the apartment into darkness, flung back the duvet and, letting the robe slide from her shoulders, held out her arms to him. For the present he was hers, her lover. She would love and cherish and value him as no one had before or would again, and she would be happy for as long as it lasted.
It lasted just two and a half weeks. A magical time when every moment spent together was precious. Sorrel felt lit from within, glowing with health and crackling with energy in spite of the exhaustingly passionate nights. During that time they spent a couple of nights at Luc's St James's apartment, but because Sorrel was always conscious of Peter, the houseman who lived on the premises, most of their nights were spent at Wapping, where, after bursting in on them sharing breakfast that first morning, Tammy and Charlie had left them discreetly alone. There was still much to be done before the launch of her jewellery collection so they travelled together to the Amoroso building in the mornings, usually late because Luc was so reluctant to get out of bed, and she was only too eager to stay.
As Luc had forecast, Bianca was delighted for them. 'A publicity stunt!' she derided. 'I knew from the first you two were made for each other.' She sighed. 'P'raps when Hywel sees how happy you are together it will get it through his thick skull that dating me isn't going to upset his financial director.'
Unfortunately, Sorrel saw very little of Hywel in the increasingly fraught run-up to the launch, and never when she and Luc were together. There were last-minute hitches to be ironed out with the production manager, arrangements to be checked at the hotel where the joint showing was to be held, so when they did meet it was always at a moment of crisis. Neither was she able to judge whether Hywel's attitude to Bianca had changed. Stupidly, she decided to let the matter rest until after the launch.
The day dawned bright and sunny, a perfect May morning when, for once, they didn't dare linger in bed. On their way to Hatton Garden Sorrel reviewed aloud all the tasks she must find time for before the invited audience arrived.
'Excited?' Luc slanted her a smiling glance.
'Well, naturally, and nervous too. Suppose the buyers don't like my work?' It wasn't just the society women in the audience she had to please. Buyers from retail outlets worldwide who stocked Amoroso products would be there too, and that was where the real business lay.
'They'll snap it up,' Luc assured her confidently, 'I told you, Sorrel Valentine is going to be the new name in jewellery design.' He dropped a warm, caressing hand to her thigh. 'Just as long as you still love me when you're famous.'
Her senses instantly aroused by his touch, she let her eyes feast on him. She wanted to tell him she would love him till the end of time, but knew his playful comment wasn't expected to provoke such a serious answer. 'As if being famous would make any difference when you only have to look at me.' She could make the lightly self-mocking admission because he was already well aware that he could arouse her from across a busy room, and because she knew she had the same power over him—for the present.
The last minute checking and reminders were done from Luc's office, and then they collected the jewellery, saw it safely into the hands of the security guards and followed the armoured vehicle to the hotel.
It was chaos. Electricians were making last-minute adjustments to the lighting, florists were still adding finishing touches, carpenters still hammered at the catwalk and white-smocked men were putting out dozens of gilt-legged chairs. And behind the scenes even greater chaos reigned.
'It's just Hywel doing his temperamental Celt act,' Bianca sighed as she sat at a dressing-table in a thin robe finishing her make-up. 'Though he's not usually quite such a bastard.'
'You still haven't sorted things out between you, then?' Sorrel asked sympathetically and Bianca grinned.
'Anything but! I still can't seem to convince him Luc hasn't set me up in my new flat as a little love nest.'
'Perhaps when we all go out to celebrate tonight we'll be able to convince him,' Sorrel said hopefully.
It was time for her to change into the beautiful cream dress Hywel had designed for her, although during the actual showing she was going to remain behind the scenes to help the girls with their quick changes and to make sure they wore the right jewellery with each outfit.
The next hour or so passed in a blur of activity, the excitement and elation rising each time the models came back to change into the next outfit and to report on the gasps of admiration and approval and the spontaneous bursts of applause.
And then it was time for the last ensemble, Sara and Bianca both wearing bridal gowns, pearl jewellery to suit the ethereal quality of the silver-fair Sara, while Bianca's dark hair and veil were held in place by a gold circlet studded with garnet cabochons, a late addition to the jewellery collection, as was the matching necklace and ear-rings.
The applause was thunderous, people at the back standing on their chairs as those at the front rose to their feet. Flushed and triumphant, Hywel went out on to the catwalk to join the girls and moments later Sorrel found herself being pushed out there too, at first stunned by the noise and the flash bulbs popping her face, but then relaxing and beginning to enjoy it when Luc sprang on to the catwalk to join her.
Waiters began to circulate with champagne. A
glass was pushed into her hand as Luc helped her down on to the floor. 'Don't drink it too quickly,' he warned, smiling at her bemused expression. 'You'll need to keep your wits about you. Everyone will be clamouring to meet you.'
And it seemed he was right. Almost instantly they were surrounded and then split up. Her father was one of the first to congratulate her, hugging her and beaming proudly, and even Marcia unbent enough to brush her cheek and coo enough compliments to satisfy any bystander. It seemed to go on for ever, the congratulations and expressions of admiration, and by the time the crowd began to thin out, Sorrel had run out of new things to say in response.
'Quite a triumph, and thanks to darling Luc, my magazine is the first of the glossies to carry the story.' Sorrel identified the speaker as Miriam Gee, the fashion editor who had interviewed her.
'Yes, I still don't know what's hit me,' she admitted dazedly.
'I'm sure you don't.' There was a cat-like smirk on Miriam's face. 'Luc's a devastating lover, isn't he? Makes a girl feel really special. Pity it doesn't last.'
Sorrel gasped at her spite, feeling a shaft of bitter jealousy that this woman had also known the rapture of Luc's lovemaking. But before her stunned brain could formulate an answer, Miriam was saying, 'I don't suppose he's introduced you to his mother, has he? No, of course he wouldn't.' She didn't need to say a man didn't introduce his current mistress to his mother because Sorrel knew with a sick humiliation it was true.
'Let me do the honours for you.' With a hand clamped round Sorrel's wrist to prevent her escape, Miriam waved to attract the attention of a very gracious-looking lady standing only a short distance away, dressed in the style the Queen Mother adopted, the well preserved complexion beneath the off-the-face hat impeccably made up.
Sorrel looked round frantically for Luc, and finally spotted him surrounded by a coterie of Japanese gentlemen, buyers, she guessed, not looking in her direction and too far away to notice what was going on.
And already it was too late. Miriam was saying silkily, 'Lady Anne, may I present the talented designer of all that lovely jewellery, Miss Sorrel Valentine.'
'Done in your best Debrett style, Miriam dear, but Mrs Amory has been good enough for me for the last forty years.' She turned smiling brown eyes on Sorrel. 'A most unusual collection of jewellery, Miss Valentine. I've just been taking a closer look at it.' The jewellery had been set out on display, suitably guarded, and had gathered an admiring crowd. 'It all makes me feel covetous, but there were a couple of pieces in particular I shall have to talk nicely to my son about.'
Sorrel murmured something appropriate, liking Mrs Amory's natural friendliness and wishing she could be natural in return, but too conscious of her precarious position in Luc's life and afraid of causing him embarrassment to allow herself to respond to that feeling of rapport.
'And the clothes!' Mrs Amory enthused. 'Such a flattering line for a woman of any age. There's at least one I must order. I've been trying to find Mr Rees to tell him so, but—' she looked around helplessly. 'He seems to have disappeared.'
'I saw him going through there a few minutes ago.' Miriam Gee nodded towards the curtains behind the stage. 'With Bianca. They seemed,' she added with another of her cat-like smirks, 'to be arguing.'
Seizing the opportunity to escape from the invidious position into which Miriam had thrust her before Luc noticed, Sorrel said eagerly, 'Let me fetch him for you, Mrs Amory.' Without waiting for a reply she hurried away.
It wasn't until she was through the curtains that she realised Luc's mother had followed and was right behind her, and by then they could both hear the raised voices. 'Will you stop tormenting me, girl!' Hywel's accent was very Welsh under the pressure of his emotions. 'Do you think I have no sense of loyalty, Bianca? Luc Amory's done a lot for me, I'd never have got off the ground without his backing, so how can I do the dirty on him and take his woman?'
'For the hundredth time, I am not his woman,' Bianca shouted, tears thickening her voice. 'You may not have noticed but he's not seeing anyone but Sorrel just now.'
'So you're using me to make him jealous,' Hywel said contemptuously.
Sorrel's face flamed, knowing Luc's mother must have heard, and she turned abruptly to usher the woman away from these embarrassing revelations, but Mrs Amory seemed to have been struck to stone as Bianca sobbed, 'Jealous? How could he be jealous when he's my brother!'
Sorrel saw the shock in the sagging mouth and widened eyes of the woman whose arm she had grasped, felt the muscles jerk beneath her fingers. Desperately she wished them both elsewhere, but the hidden voices went inexorably on.
'Your brother!' Hywel sounded as shocked as the two listening woman.
'Oh, God!' Bianca's voice caught on a sob. 'His—we had the same father…' The admission was made much more quietly but still only too clearly. 'But you mustn't tell a soul. Promise me, Hywel. Luc'd never forgive me if it got to his mother's ears…'
Mrs Amory moaned, her face paper-white, the lines of age suddenly deeply etched as her body sagged. Sorrel was afraid she was going to faint and gathered her close to support her. 'Mrs Amory…' Thankfully the quarrelling voices had fallen to an indistinct murmur but the damage was done. All Sorrel could think of was getting the older woman away before Bianca showed herself. 'Mrs Amory…' she urged again, and at last the woman seemed to come out of her rigour of shock, whispering, 'It's not true. It can't be true!'
'No, of course not,' Sorrel tried to reassure her as she steered her to a side door that would lead them back to the main room without having to be exposed on the catwalk. The noise of chatter and laughter hit them like a blow and Mrs Amory flinched. 'Luc…' she said pathetically, and suddenly he was there, taking in his mother's sagging figure and Sorrel's tense, worried face.
'What's the matter?' His glance seared her and she was sure he must be wondering at finding his mistress with his mother. But now wasn't the time for explanations.
'Your… Mrs Amory isn't feeling well,' she said inadequately, knowing the guilt she was feeling was emblazoned on her face.
'Mother?' His voice was sharp with concern.
'It—I'll be—' Tears began to roll down the powdered cheeks. 'Take me home, Luc… please.'
'Yes, of course, darling.' He was frowning and darted another glance at Sorrel whose guilt made her feel it was full of condemnation. 'I'll see you later,' he said quietly, and she watched as he supported his mother from the room. She stood there, straight and slender and alone, once again knowing herself the outsider.
But no one else was aware that her moment of triumph had turned to dust and ashes, and mustn't know, she vowed as she called on all her pride to be polite to the people who were still coming up to speak to her.
Her father brought a man who wished for an introduction, Seth Dewis, an American who owned a rival jewellery house in New York, a man in his forties with predatory eyes and a cajoling tongue which he used to try to persuade her to come to New York and design for him.
While she was flattered at his persistence, she had to tell him she was under contract to design exclusively for Amoroso for the next two years. He still insisted he would make it worth her while to break her contract, but Sorrel was only half listening. It was an hour now since Luc had taken his mother home and he still had not returned. Was he very angry that she had the nerve to get herself introduced?
'Aren't you afraid that if I break my contract with Amoroso, I'll break it just as easily with you?' she asked the American sardonically, the worry about Luc still fretting the edges of her mind.
'I reckon I can keep you so happy, you won't want to,' Seth said confidently. 'My products outsell Amoroso by a long way in the States, and there could be other… inducements.' Those predatory eyes told her what those 'inducements' were, and Sorrel sighed. Were all men alike? Like small boys seeing a toy they coveted, and grabbing?
She finally ceded him the promise that if she ever found herself in New York she would be in touch, and allowed him to press his business
card on her, to which he had added the telephone number of his private apartment. It seemed the quickest way to get rid of him.
At last the society women, the buyers and the press all departed and Sorrel was overseeing the packing of her jewellery to be returned in the security van to Amoroso when she saw Hywel and Bianca approaching. Hand in hand, she noticed, and such a glow on Bianca's lovely face she knew at last all had come right for them. She shivered as she wondered at what cost. But she pushed the thought away and smiled at them. 'Your Collection was a stunning success, Hywel. Congratulations.'
'Double congratulations, Sorrel.' Bianca was brimming with happiness as she looked at the man at her side, revelling in the proud possessiveness of his return glance. 'Hywel's just asked me to marry him.' Tearing her eyes away from him she looked around the room. 'Where's Luc? I must tell him…'
'He—he had to take his mother home. She wasn't well.' Sorrel couldn't bring herself to dim their happiness by telling them their quarrel and Bianca's revelations had been overheard, let alone by whom.
'He's gone!' Bianca wailed in dismay. 'But he'll be coming to our celebration tonight?'
Sorrel rather doubted if Luc would be in the mood for celebrating. She only hoped that when his mother told him how she had learned of his half-sister's existence, it wouldn't damage his relationship with Bianca.
'I would think the only celebration you need tonight is strictly for two,' she said, managing to instil a teasing note into her voice. 'I really am very happy for you both.' She hugged Bianca and placed a friendly kiss on Hywel's cheek.
They didn't argue, still too wrapped up on the newness of their happiness to make more than a token protest when Sorrel insisted on taking a cab back to Wapping to wait for Luc.
Tammy and Charlie pounced on her before she could open the door, demanding to know how things had gone. Both had been given invitations but had turned them down on the practical pretext that Tammy would never be able to afford either the clothes or the jewellery and so should make space for those who could. Sorrel told them as she made tea and kicked off her high-heeled shoes to sit down and drink it, naturally leaving out the traumatic event that had cast such a blight.
This Man's Magic Page 15