The Society Bride

by Fiona Hood-Stewart

  For a brief moment she nearly told him about the magazine and the article she’d read. Then dignity and pride got the better of her, and, tossing her tawny head, she looked straight at him.

  ‘I don’t think it’s the right time.’

  ‘Quite the contrary. You know it has to happen some time. Much better to go now, let all this settle. You need a break—to get away and relax after all the strain.’

  ‘I hardly think BA will be relaxing,’ she murmured witheringly.

  ‘I don’t see why not. It’s a very pleasant part of the world. You’ll make friends, have a life there as well as in London and Paris and all the other places we live. But it is, after all, going to be our main home. I want to buy a new house or an apartment.’

  ‘Oh? What’s wrong with the one you’ve got?’ she enquired, eyes challenging.

  ‘Nothing. But it’s more of a bachelor’s pad than anything else. Far too small for a family.’

  ‘We’re only two people,’ she said, raising a brow. ‘And who knows? I might just like it.’

  ‘No,’ he said firmly, and she saw a flicker of determination in his eyes. ‘We’ll stay in a suite at the Alvear until we find something that suits us.’

  Nena did not argue. She had realised by now that when Ramon made up his mind about something there was little use fighting it. He didn’t shout or bark or lose his temper, he merely used a quiet, very commanding tone of voice that allowed the listener no doubt as to the outcome of the matter.

  Well, so be it, she reflected, with a sigh. In a way maybe it was better to get going. One day she would have to face the truth, and perhaps the sooner she did—came out of this fantasy world she’d been living in for the past few weeks—the better it would be. She must face life alone, she realised sadly, watching his turned back with a pang of sadness and something more. It was hard to know that he could be so passionate in bed with her and be just as powerful and giving with another woman.

  The thought hurt, and Nena turned, gazing fiercely towards the window, determined that he shouldn’t see her anguish. She’d deal with it—get it under control, rid herself of this stupid jealousy she was experiencing as the picture in the magazine flashed before her once more.

  And in the end she’d win.

  Ever since she was a child it had always struck Nena as strange to leave London in midsummer and arrive in Buenos Aires with a heavy coat on her arm.

  Now they had arrived at the Alvear Palace, the grande dame of hotels in Buenos Aires, and some of her initial qualms were appeased. Ramon was attentive and thoughtful, making sure she was not relegated to second place, as had been her fear, but very much in the limelight.

  Still grieving for her grandfather, Nena didn’t feel like any social activities. But Ramon insisted he take her out on their first evening, to an amusing restaurant on the Ricoletta. They would eat wonderful assados, composed of fabulous Argentinian meat, and maybe watch the tango danced at the Viejo Almazen.

  And then he came up with a complete surprise that, despite her efforts to regard him in an uncompromising light, touched her heart just the same.

  They were at dinner, and reaching the pudding stage, when suddenly Ramon leaned across the table.

  ‘Nena, mi linda,’ he said, his voice low, his eyes penetrating, ‘I owe you.’

  ‘Owe me?’ She frowned, not understanding. ‘You don’t owe me anything that I can think of.’ Actually, if she were truthful, she probably owed him. Ramon had taken charge of her grandfather’s affairs in a forceful and efficient manner that had left the advisors and trustees in no doubt as to who was in charge.

  ‘Oh, but I do,’ he insisted. At the same time he removed two small leather boxes from his jacket pocket. ‘This is the first thing I owe you.’ He slid a red Cartier box across the table.

  Nena hesitated, her pulse beating suddenly faster. Then tentatively she opened the box. A beautiful diamond ring sparkled up at her. Ramon reached across and removed it from its velvet bed. Smiling at Nena, he lifted her left hand and slipped the ring onto her finger, next to her wedding band. ‘That,’ he said, eyes gazing straight into hers, ‘is your engagement ring. If you don’t like it we can have it changed.’

  ‘Oh, no, I love it. It’s perfectly lovely,’ she assured him, gazing down at the perfect jewel, touched that he’d taken the trouble to remember such a detail.

  ‘And this,’ he said, opening a long thin jewel box, ‘is your wedding present.’ He removed a glistening, delicately woven diamond and sapphire bracelet.

  Nena held up her wrist, enchanted. ‘It’s perfectly gorgeous, Ramon. It’s vintage, isn’t it?’ she exclaimed, eyeing the bracelet and biting her lip, unable to express just how much the gesture meant.

  ‘Yes. I saw it in a catalogue for a Sotheby’s sale and had my man in Paris bid for it. I know you probably inherited masses of vintage jewellery from your mother and grandmother, but this struck me as a rather special piece.’

  ‘Oh, it is!’ she exclaimed, fighting back the tears that welled in her eyes. She felt suddenly bad. For here she was, trying to reject this man, when he was making every effort to make a success of their marriage. Perhaps she was being very silly and immature.

  She looked up at him and smiled tenderly across the table. ‘Thank you, Ramon, I’m very touched. It was lovely to think of this.’

  ‘It’s the least I owe you,’ he said gruffly. Then, taking her hand, he turned it around and kissed the inside of her wrist, sending delicious shudders up her arm and reminding her that the evening was not entirely over. She had been reticent near him since their arrival in BA, afraid that Luisa might be just around the corner.

  But now he’d dispelled most of her fears. Here, in the quiet, well-attended restaurant, with its sophisticated décor and discreet waiters, she felt suddenly very, very happy—glad that she was here with him and not back in England, mourning her beloved grandfather all on her own.

  They decided to walk down the wide avenues back to the hotel. Nena had vague memories of taking tea there with her grandparents and her mother and father when she must have been a very little girl.

  ‘I can still just recall coming here with my mother,’ she told Ramon as they stepped into the lobby. ‘Do they still have English afternoon tea with scones?’ she asked, with a touch of nostalgia for her mother, the woman who had flitted so briefly through her life.

  ‘Of course. The Alvear never loses its touch or its old traditions. I can see that it must have been very hard for you, growing up with no parents,’ he added, glancing at her and securing her arm more firmly in his.

  ‘In a way, but then I had my grandparents. They were wonderful to me.’

  ‘When did your grandmother die?’

  ‘Four years ago. Grandfather never got over her death. He was never quite the same after that. They loved one another so much.’

  ‘Yet they had an arranged marriage?’ he said thoughtfully.

  ‘Yes. And so, apparently, did your parents. They seem very happy too. They’ve been so kind to me.’

  ‘So they should—they’ve just acquired a daughter.’

  ‘Is that really how they feel?’ she asked, turning and looking up at him. ‘Or are you just saying that to make me feel better about all this?’

  ‘No. I really mean it. My mother adores you and my father’s half in love with you himself.’

  She giggled as they tripped up the steps and through the blue-carpeted lobby to the elevator, then on up to their suite.

  ‘Tomorrow we’re meeting with the estate agents,’ Ramon said as they reached their door. ‘They have a number of houses and apartments to show us. Which do you think you’d prefer?’ he asked casually as they entered the drawing room of the suite, taking off his jacket and slinging it over the back of a chair while Nena hung up her coat in the cupboard.

  ‘What? You mean a house or an apartment?’ she asked, tilting her head. ‘I really don’t know. I—you see, I never thought of getting a house of my—our—own so soon. It
’s all rather a novelty.’

  ‘Good. We’ll have fun choosing then,’ he said, sitting down on the sofa. ‘I don’t suppose you want to watch TV, do you?’

  ‘Why not? Let’s see what’s on.’ She sent him a dazzling smile and curled next to him on the sofa as if they’d been doing this for aeons. It felt good. It felt natural. And Nena sensed a chill of fear at just how used she was getting to sharing her life with this man whom she barely knew.

  Ramon flipped the remote control. ‘Oh, Lord. Look—it’s the Britcoms. Fawlty Towers and Manuel!’

  ‘Oh, please, leave it on!’ she exclaimed, touching his arm. ‘It’s so funny.’

  ‘I doubt there’s anything much else on, except CNN and the news,’ he answered, leaning back and slipping his arm around her while laughing at one of John Cleese’s inimitable gestures.

  An hour later they were both doubled over with laughter, relaxed and enjoying every minute of the evening. Nena had kicked off her shoes and Ramon had his feet up on the ottoman, ankles crossed.

  It had been a perfect evening, she reflected, glancing down at her wrist and her finger. All the fears she’d had about coming here were suddenly obliterated by his gesture and the manner in which he’d managed to set her at ease. She felt excited now about choosing their new home, and imagined what it might be like, thought of how she would decorate it. Doña Augusta would have to help her get to know the various shops and decorators when she returned from London.

  ‘Okay, sleepyhead,’ he said, ruffling her hair and dropping a kiss on her brow, ‘Time for bed, I think. We have quite a day tomorrow.’

  Nena smiled, smothered a yawn, stretched and let him pull her up from the sofa. Then all at once there was an imperceptible change in the atmosphere. Their eyes locked and in one swift movement Ramon pressed her hard against him.

  ‘I want you,’ he growled, slipping his hands on her bottom and pressing her against him, letting her feel his hardness.

  ‘And I want you,’ she whispered back, gazing up at him, feeling herself go completely liquid inside.

  ‘Then what are we waiting for?’

  In one quick gesture Ramon unzipped her dress. It fell in a circle about her feet. Then he flicked open her bra hook and flipped it aside. ‘My beautiful, gorgeous señora,’ he muttered, cupping her breasts and grazing her nipples with his thumb, causing her to draw in her breath as she worked desperately on the buttons of his shirt and the buckle of his belt.

  Minutes later they were lying naked in the huge Empire bed, Ramon’s tongue working magic on her. But this time Nena wanted to adventure herself, and when he lifted his head she pushed him back on the bed.

  Ramon quirked a surprised eyebrow, then, seeing her determined expression, gave way as she tentatively began kissing his throat, his chest, and down, down, until her lips closed falteringly around him.

  She heard him draw in his breath.

  ‘Mi amor,’ he muttered, huskily surprised.

  That was all the encouragement she needed. Soon they were writhing together, kissing, biting. Ramon thrust deep within her, possessing every inch of her, and she possessed him.

  And Nena knew a new and powerful satisfaction: that of having truly pleased her man.

  At ten o’clock the estate agent picked them up in a smart four-wheel drive to visit several addresses on his list. The first two were not suitable, and were immediately discarded, the third was a lovely house, but had a garden that needed a complete overhaul, but the fourth, a thousand-square-metre penthouse in an attractive building in the upmarket district of Palermo, enchanted them.

  ‘What a magnificient view!’ Nena exclaimed, gazing out over the city. ‘It looks so like Paris, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, it does. Do you like this place, Nena?’

  ‘Yes. I think it’s wonderful.’

  ‘Nice ample bedroom,’ Ramon muttered, out of earshot of the agent.

  ‘Hmm,’ she murmured, trying not to giggle and digging her elbow into his ribs to keep him quiet.

  ‘And room for a nursery,’ he added, slipping his arm about her as they walked out onto the wide wraparound balcony.

  ‘I don’t plan on having kids for a long time,’ Nena pronounced briskly.

  ‘No, of course not.’ He nodded blandly. ‘Still, it’s good not to have to move too often, don’t you think?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ she agreed. ‘Much more practical.’

  ‘Shall we take it, then?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, her face lighting up with a radiant smile that left him wanting to return immediately to the hotel.

  It was quite amazing, he reflected as he went back inside the living room to discuss the terms with the agent, just how Nena had captured his whole being. And, if he was really truthful, he realised ruefully, his heart. He had never experienced such tenderness for a woman, such a feeling of warmth, such an intense need to be with her, return to her when they were separated even for a few hours.

  Was this what marriage was all about?

  Two days later Ramon called Nena on her cellphone.

  ‘Mi amor, I have to go to the hacienda for a few days. A problem has cropped up that I must deal with personally.’

  ‘Oh. Shall I come with you?’

  ‘No. I don’t think it’s worth it. I’ll have to be on the go the whole time. I want to be able to spend time with you the first time you go there.’

  ‘All right. I can get going with the apartment, then. I have a few addresses. Your cousin Pablo’s wife, Elisa, kindly said she’d take me to several decorating establishments.’

  ‘Good. She’s a great girl. I’m glad you’ve made a friend.’

  ‘When will you be flying out?’ Nena asked, the thought of him being away leaving her lonely.

  ‘Early tomorrow morning. Don’t worry, cariña, we still have tonight,’ he murmured, leaving her blushing at the feelings his words evoked.

  The next day Nena met Elisa to go shopping, and then continued with her on for lunch at Santi’s, a trendy lunch spot in the Ricoletta. They were seated at a corner table which offered them a full view of the busy restaurant.

  It was obviously the ‘in’ place for ladies’ lunches, Nena realised, watching a positive catwalk of the latest fashions, worn by rake-thin, angular, good-looking Argentine women who walked by with a self-assured, slightly arrogant air, as though they owned the world.

  Nena ordered a salad, and Elisa a thin entrecôte.

  ‘I’m dieting—low carbs,’ she said, grinning.

  ‘But you’re so thin already.’

  ‘Must keep it up, darling. You’re young, but I’m hitting thirty. Positively ancient. Have to preserve my figure.’

  Nena laughed and shook her head. Everyone here seemed so conscious of the way they looked and dressed and projected themselves. It made her feel rather young and unsophisticated, despite her exposure to London and Paris. It was just a different way of life where the physical was more interwoven into the general consciousness.

  ‘Ah, there’s Ana and Mariella over there,’ Elisa said, waving to two friends. ‘I must introduce them to you. You’ll like them. They’re great fun.’

  It was just as the waiter was laying their espressos on the table that Nena looked up and, to her amazement, recognised the woman standing at a nearby table, chatting. She shuddered, certain it was the woman she’d seen pictured in Hola! magazine. And not ten feet away. She caught her breath and swallowed a gasp. Of course this would have happened some day, she supposed. She just wished it hadn’t been when her husband was away.

  ‘Do you know her?’ Elisa asked curiously, seeing Nena’s gaze fixed on Luisa.

  ‘Oh, no. But she’s very good-looking, isn’t she?’

  ‘Yes,’ Elisa responded warily, ‘she is. Very.’

  Nena took a sidelong glance at Elisa and caught the troubled expression in her eyes.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she said, trying to sound nonchalant and very grown-up, ‘I know all about her and Ramon.’

  �
�You do?’ Elisa looked surprised.

  ‘Yes. It doesn’t bother me,’ she lied with a shrug.

  ‘That’s very sensible of you,’ Elisa responded approvingly. ‘Much better to be realistic about these things.’

  Nena didn’t add that she felt confident that now that she and Ramon were spending every day together and every night passionately making love his affair with Luisa must be over.

  The woman turned and sent a long glance in her direction, then leaned forward and murmured something to the woman she was sitting down next to, who in turn murmured to her neighbour. Suddenly they were all looking at her critically, and Nena felt herself blushing despite her determination to carry on as if nothing untoward had taken place.

  ‘Pay no attention to them,’ Elisa said, waving blithely at Luisa and her table. ‘They don’t mean any harm; they’re just curious about you. After all, Ramon is a very big catch. Luisa and he had been going together for a couple of years, and frankly the whole thing must have come as a great shock to her.’

  ‘Naturally. It must have,’ Nena agreed, suddenly seeing the flipside of the coin. It must have been very difficult for Luisa to be ousted from one day to the next. For a moment she felt sorry for the older woman. Other people’s feelings had no place in their arranged marriage, and she wondered suddenly if Ramon had really broken off with Luisa after all.

  A niggling doubt assailed her as she recalled the night at Thurston Manor when she’d passed Ramon’s door and heard him say I’ll always adore you. Had it been Luisa he’d been talking to?

  She glanced furtively in the other woman’s direction, not wanting to be obvious. Luisa looked proud and beautifully groomed. Her long, glistening dark hair hung straight on the shoulders of her white cashmere jersey, she wore suede pants and high-heeled boots and looked sure of every inch of herself, Nena reflected. Would a woman who’d just been abandoned by a man like Ramon, with whom she’d had such a public affair, be flaunting herself like this in a restaurant? Laughing, elbows lightly poised on the table, her perfectly manicured fingers with their sparkling diamonds elegantly clasped, chattering as though she hadn’t a worry in the world?