‘Er, no, dear, I don’t think that would be a good idea.’ The soft pendulous flesh of Lady Beth’s full cheeks quivered with the agitation in her voice.
‘She won’t have a headache.’ Gwendolyn’s voice was disapproving and sharp. ‘Emerald never gets headaches. She’s just attention-seeking, if you ask me.’
And he knew exactly what kind of attention she would be seeking and getting, Dougie thought enviously, even if Lydia was too naïve to think in such terms. What was it about the British upper class that made them feel it was necessary for their daughters to remain so ignorant when it came to ‘the facts of life’?
If he knew his own sex, Dougie thought, then it wouldn’t be a headache that was keeping Emerald and Alessandro in isolation in their bedroom–his bedroom, if you wanted to be pedantic about it. Dougie scowled. Not that it mattered a single damn to him who Emerald married or what she did with him. He’d be a fool to be anything other than glad to have her out of his hair, and not constantly mocking him and taunting, nor constantly reminding him that he could never be the man or the duke that her father had been.
The trouble was that no matter how hard he tried not to let it happen, Emerald had a way of getting under a chap’s skin. It didn’t matter what kind of guy she had married, he would still have felt like he did right now, Dougie admitted, as though…as though…The truth was that Dougie just did not want to consider what the thought of Emerald being married to someone else made him feel.
‘Mmm, that was so nice, darling. Now hold me tight and don’t leave me, will you? Yes, I know I said we’d telephone your mother, but it’s far too late now. She’s probably in bed asleep, and I wouldn’t want to wake her.’
She really hated the décor in these rooms, Emerald decided, waiting until Alessandro’s deep breathing signalled that he had fallen asleep, before moving away from him. It was so much her mother’s taste, all that dowdy old-fashioned embroidered silk.
When she and Alessandro got their own house she’d have it decorated in a much more modern style, perhaps get David Hicks in.
Amber and Jay were just about to go down to dinner when Emerald’s telegram arrived. They had been chatting happily about the pleasure they’d had spending a week with the twins, who were both planning to spend the summer working at camps in the United States, but Amber’s relaxed happiness evaporated as she read Emerald’s telegram. Having read it once she read it again, her heart sinking.
‘Oh no!’ she said in a strained voice, passing the telegram over to Jay so that he too could read it. ‘Why would she do such a thing? Why didn’t she simply tell us that she and Alessandro wanted to marry, instead of running off to Gretna Green? Surely she knows that all we want is her happiness? I do worry so about her, and this…this absence of the kind of relationship a mother and daughter should share. It’s my fault, of course,’ she added miserably.
‘Of course it isn’t,’ Jay tried to reassure her.
‘It is,’ Amber insisted. ‘I didn’t want her, after all, not when I first realised I was carrying her, and somehow I’m sure she knows that, even though afterwards, and long before she was born, I did want her.’
Jay reached for her hands and held them tightly. ‘You have been and are a wonderful mother, Amber.’
‘Emerald doesn’t think that. She never has. It must have been so awful for her, Jay, a new-born baby whose mother wasn’t there for her.’
‘You weren’t there for her because you were very ill, and fighting for your life. Please stop torturing yourself with this foolishness, my love. Emerald is a very selfish and strong-willed young woman.’
‘She’s so young, Jay, and I can’t help thinking that she may have married Alessandro because…because she wants someone to love her, because she feels vulnerable.’
Jay shook his head. ‘Emerald, vulnerable? It’s natural that you should be concerned for her, but I won’t let you blame yourself for Emerald’s determination to do what she wants, regardless of other people’s feelings.’
‘I can’t help worrying about her, Jay. I just wish she’d said something; talked to us about it first, confided in me. I’m really not sure how I’ll be able to hide my disappointment.’
Chapter Twenty
The salon was busy, buzzing with clients and music and stylists, whilst juniors scurried round washing hair, producing cups of coffee, and sweeping up, when Rose called in just before lunch one Saturday morning in early summer.
‘Business looks good,’ she told Josh, as she handed him the sandwich she had brought him. ‘Don’t worry, it’s kosher,’ she scolded, as he opened it to look inside.
‘Kosher I do not worry about; making sure I get my money’s worth I do,’ he teased her, adopting a heavy Jewish accent.
‘Saw the announcement about your cousin getting hitched.’
Rose responded with a forced smile. She was never comfortable talking about Emerald, always conscious of Emerald’s contempt and hostility.
‘Well, it’s certainly a surprise. Knowing Emerald, I’d expected her to insist on having a huge society wedding.’
‘If she had to choose between the huge society prize husband and the huge society wedding, maybe she decided it was better to get the husband,’ Josh suggested, showing a sharper awareness of the situation than Rose had been prepared for.
‘Emerald would have wanted to marry well,’ she was obliged to agree.
‘I’d certainly say she’d done that, nabbing herself a prince,’ Josh grinned. ‘Does that mean you’ll have to curtsy to her now?’
‘Never!’ The speed and bitterness of Rose’s reply took them both off guard. Josh frowned, and Rose flushed and looked away.
‘I’m sorry,’ she apologised in a stilted voice. ‘It’s just that Emerald and I have never got on. Even when we were children she loved telling everyone that her father was a duke whilst mine…’