‘You think it too old-fashioned?’
‘It’s gorgeous,’ she murmured. ‘I just hope it’s not as precious as it looks. Tell me it’s costume jewellery.’
He shook his head. ‘It’s real. You’re my wife, my hostess. You need to look the part. This has been in the family for generations. Besides, it matches your dress.’
He was right. The crimson glow of the central stone matched the flowers on her dress and the ornate necklace paired well with the simplicity of the strapless bodice.
Her fingers fluttered over it, her eyes wide. She looked different—not like the woman she knew.
Disquiet shivered through her, but she forced it aside. Naturally Thierry wanted her to do him proud tonight. The session he’d organised for her with a beautician had been a thoughtful gift. Thierry’s grandmother had spent hours coaching her on the who’s who of French society that would be at tonight’s party. Plus, with her language tutor’s help, Imogen felt reasonably competent with introductions and very basic conversation.
She smoothed her gloved hands down her dress, telling herself she’d be fine. It wasn’t that she was scared of crowds, just that they weren’t her thing. But with Thierry at her side she’d be fine. More than fine. She’d shine.
Only Thierry didn’t stay at her side.
For an hour he was with her, his arm around her waist, greeting their guests, turning these sophisticated strangers into people she could relax and laugh with. Most of them, if curious about her, were friendly.
But after a while they got separated. Occasionally he’d turn his head to check on her, his eyebrows raised in question, and she’d nod, silently letting him know she was okay.
She was a professional woman, used to meeting strangers. She didn’t need her hand held, even if some of the glitterati were rather daunting.
There was one woman in particular—Sandrine. A tall, slender blonde who looked like she’d stepped from a glossy magazine. She was the most beautiful woman Imogen had ever seen, with a long sweep of platinum hair, perfect features and an assurance that allowed her to wear backless silver lamé and a fortune in diamonds with casual insouciance.
But it wasn’t the other woman’s beauty that made Imogen stare, it was the realisation that this was the woman who’d broken Thierry’s heart. Sandrine made it clear they’d known each other since the cradle. Several times in their short conversation she’d subtly reinforced the fact that Imogen was an outsider in this milieu.
When Thierry was beside Imogen that didn’t matter. But as the evening wore on it was harder not to make comparisons between herself and the glamorous blonde so at home in these superb surroundings.
Imogen dragged her attention back to the couple talking with her about Australia, reminiscing about a trip to an exclusive resort she’d heard of but never visited.
‘I was disappointed,’ the husband said, ‘not to see those dangerous snakes we hear about.’ The twinkle in his eyes belied the complaint.
Imogen smiled. ‘I can recommend some nature reserves for your next visit.’ She glanced down and noticed their glasses were empty. Looking around, she couldn’t see any of the waiters brought in for tonight’s party.
‘If you’ll excuse me, I’ll send someone over with drinks.’
‘No, no, it’s fine. It’s no trouble.’
Nice as it was to chat, it felt good to do something practical, attending to guests’ needs. It made her feel less of an imposter in this well-heeled crowd. To be fair, though, not all the invitees were rich. There were locals and friends of Thierry who shared an interest in extreme sports.
Imogen was moving to the end of the room where the bar was set up when a woman’s voice slowed her steps.
‘Of course she’s pregnant, what other reason could there be? He’s married her to make the child legitimate. She’s not Thierry’s type. When has anyone ever seen him with a brunette? And as for the rest... Thierry deserves someone with panache, someone who fits in.’
Pale blonde hair swung across the speaker’s elegant bare back.
Sandrine. Thierry’s old friend. His first love.
Imogen’s chest tightened and she faltered to a stop. Was that why Thierry was adamant he’d never want a love match? Because he’d given his heart to this woman and no one else would fill her place?
It was one thing to know her husband had once been disappointed in love. It was quite another to discover the object of his affection was the most stunningly beautiful woman she’d ever seen.