Substitute Engagement. Jayne Bauling

Substitute Engagement - Jayne  Bauling


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      ‘A while,’ Lucia responded ambiguously, liking Madelon and aware that at any other time she would probably have been quite happy to play the rating game, however pointless it really was when taste was such a subjective thing.

      She hadn’t meant to make use of the fiction that Rob had established, her pride rebelling at the idea of needing anyone’s help or co-operation to get her through this ordeal, but she shrank from admitting that until a short while ago she had believed that she still was engaged to Thierry.

      ‘Not long enough to let him go?’ Madelon prompted mock-hopefully. ‘But perhaps he will come here more frequently and remain longer if you are here, and everything is fair, do you admit? We will have fun!’

      Several people who remembered Lucia began to drift up and greet her, and once again she found herself tacitly participating in the charade that Rob had initiated, smiling determinedly as they made knowing comments about her having landed a bigger fish, apparently under the impression that they were using a wittily appropriate pun.

      Lucia felt ashamed of herself, but knowing the truth would have made them as uncomfortable as she would have been in telling, if the relief and happiness they all evinced at seeing her apparently unperturbed by the occasion were anything to go by.

      The fact that they had obviously been concerned for her produced further emotional conflict for Lucia. She was touched to know they cared, but that they had needed to care was humiliating.

      Finally, when a hush had fallen and Rob was making a simple announcement of the engagement of his sister Nadine to Thierry Olivier, Lucia made herself look once more at the man who had let her in for all this.

      It was a shock to find Thierry looking at her, but she kept right on smiling, and after a moment she saw his gaze drop, apparently to her hands, now tensely locked round the stem of her glass, and then an incomprehen-sible mixture of expressions flitted over his sensitive features, presumably in reaction to the absence of her ring.

      Thierry! Lucia was rigid with rage and hurt, but she understood why he had done it this way. Thierry was a sensitive yet passive man, abhorring emotional conflict in particular and too much raw emotion generally.

      Even in the first flush of their youthful love just over three years ago, he had been uncomfortable with her grief over her father’s sudden death, staying away from her until he could be sure that she had it under control. Now it occurred to her that these traits had become more pronounced over the years; he had come to rely on her for so much, touchingly confident in her ability to deal with any unpleasantness on his behalf.

      Lucia remembered the day that seemed to symbolise that reliance, when his beloved dog had run in front of one of the island water-carrier vehicles, and he had been utterly unable even to look at the poor animal, begging her to take it away, to find help for it if it was still alive, throwing down his car-keys for her and retreating.

      She supposed that some people would have called that weak, but she had seen it as a measure of his faith in her. She understood and loved him—and now she had lost him. There wasn’t going to be any wedding, or a home that wasn’t borrowed or rented, or the security of knowing that she could stay put and never have to think about moving on.

      She was doing it again, Lucia realised—the thing that had begun to disturb her over the last year, thinking of marriage to Thierry in terms of having a home. Well, neither marriage nor a home was any longer on the agenda, so she wasn’t going to worry about it now.

      Abruptly, accepting the reality, Lucia raised her glass along with everyone else and toasted the newly engaged couple, her gaze resting a moment on the girl whom Thierry had preferred to her and then straying to the man whom Madelon had called ‘more of a man’.

      True enough, if you believed that manliness embraced insensitivity and an unwarranted sense of superiority. Right now Rob Ballard was probably congratulating himself on having saved the day for his sister.

      ‘You must be thirsty!’ Madelon laughed from beside her, and, looking down, Lucia realised that she had unthinkingly drained her glass. The champagne was available because hotels which catered for foreign visitors were exempt from the Koran-based laws of the archipelago. ‘I too. I will find a waiter.’

      Madelon took her empty glass away and Lucia went on staring at Rob, hating him for being the only person to know how this had hit her.

      ‘Lucia.’

      The coolly polite greeting had her turning to confront Thierry’s widowed mother, as trimly immaculate as ever.

      Although a light, in-flight meal was the only thing that she had eaten all day, the champagne couldn’t have gone to her head this quickly, but Lucia felt her smile widening outrageously, and the words that emerged from her mouth carried more expression than she had ever before permitted herself in addressing this woman.

      ‘Beth! Congratulations! This must be an amazingly happy day for you.’

      ‘Oh, it is,’ Beth Olivier agreed smoothly. ‘Especially as I see you’re taking it so well. But then, judging by the company I saw you in earlier, you’ve found someone to distract you—and probably not for the first time over the years. So, all in all, Rob Ballard has been a force for good, although I still have to deplore these big, new hotels, spoiling the coastline and doing who knows what damage to the environment.’

      ‘The environmental impact studies were favourable to their erection,’ Lucia pointed out, finding a perverse relish in the realisation that she no longer had to be so careful not to disagree with Beth—at least Thierry had done her one favour!

      ‘And unless you want to return to the barter system, or cowries for currency, their presence benefits the local people and the economy in all sorts of ways, not least by providing employment, doesn’t it? I still remember the high incidence of kwashiorkor among the island children the first time my parents and I lived here, in the mid-eighties. Hopefully that’s becoming history.’

      ‘Darling.’ Rob had joined them in time to hear her words, putting a casual arm across Lucia’s shoulders and addressing Beth as he continued, ‘I’m discovering that Lucia is incredibly loyal—always ready to defend me.’

      His tone and smile were so indulgent that Lucia was disconcerted, needing to remind herself that it was all an act.

      ‘Oh, I suppose I have to forgive you, Rob, since it has been the Ballard Group’s venture here that enabled my son to meet someone so ideally suited to him,’ Beth allowed rather coyly, preparing to move on.

      ‘Well, I don’t suppose I’ll be seeing much of you, Lucia. I think it would be better if you didn’t come round to the estate at all, don’t you? Misguided though it was, we can’t get away from the fact that Thierry and you were once an item, and we don’t want to distress dear Nadine, do we? She’s staying with us, of course. I’m sure Rob agrees with me.’

      ‘Lucia is going to be too busy to have much time for casual socialising anyway,’ Rob claimed, with so much caressing significance that Lucia stiffened resentfully, effectively distracted from the additional humiliation of hearing that she was unwelcome in the Olivier home.

      Still further distraction was provided by the way his fingers were now stirring idly against the smooth skin of her upper arm, their warmth and the light movement producing an inner frisson of awareness, so she hardly noticed Beth’s departure.

      ‘Stop it,’ she finally managed in a sharp little voice, moving out of his reach.

      ‘I told you, it’s not personal, Lucia,’ he drawled, the taunting challenge sparkling in the smoky eyes making them as brilliant as gems, and as hard. ‘But there is one thing about you that has actually succeeded in arousing my interest, and that’s your defence of the sort of controversial progress that goes with the tourist industry. Biologists aren’t usually part of the backlash against green concerns.’

      ‘And I’m not! I just happen to think people are the most important living things on the planet,’ she snapped. ‘Will you excuse me, please, and apologise


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