Diamonds are for Marriage: The Australian's Society Bride. Margaret Way
light green foliage. Here they could talk in privacy.
Robbie sat down beside her, then put his dark head into faintly trembling hands. “Thank God that’s over!” Gratefully he breathed in the calming scent of the roses.
Long entrenched in the business of looking after him, Leona burst out, “Boyd must have been very tough on you.”
“No more than I deserved!” Robbie sat bolt upright, half turning to face her. “Hey, don’t go blaming Boyd for anything,” he exclaimed, obviously surprised and concerned that she had.
“How can I not?” she said, distressed by his appearance. “It’s obvious he’s knocked you for six. How can you play this afternoon? Polo is a dangerous, demanding game. You have to have all your wits about you.”
“Listen, Leo, I’m playing,” Robbie answered emphatically. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I just have to regain my balance. A good lunch will help. Actually, I feel better than I have in ages. Can’t you understand that? It’s like going to confession and receiving absolution. Boyd was much too generous. I don’t deserve it. He’ll get the bad guys off my back. He said a lot has been invested in me to succeed. He also said I have your love and loyalty—hell, he reduced me to tears about that. Anyway, I swear to you, Leo, I’m going to mend my ways. I’m going to turn over a new leaf. I’m going to make you and Boyd proud of me. I know I’ve caused you a lot of anxiety and I’ve leant on you terribly. That has to stop. Both of us have to stop seeing me as your ‘kid brother’.”
“Boyd said that, did he?” She bit her lip.
“It’s true, isn’t it?” Robbie appealed to her. “Why are you trying to find fault with Boyd in this? He’s my saviour. I thought you loved him. You told me you were getting married.” He took hold of her arm. “Hell, I didn’t have anything to do with this sudden decision, did I?”
“Of course you didn’t.” Leona stopped that idea in its tracks. “It’s just that I see Boyd as invincible.”
“We all die, Leo,” Robbie said gently.
She shivered in the golden heat. “Don’t talk about dying!” For Boyd to die would destroy her. “It’s just I’ve spent so many years—”
“Putting up a front with Boyd?” Robbie suggested. “In some ways I think you find loving him the way you do terrifying,” he added very perceptively.
“Isn’t love terrifying?” she asked. “Love also sets one up for loss. The bliss of my childhood was shattered by the loss of my mother. Dad turned into another person. I think he forced himself to remarry. You know, the couples thing.”
“He could have done better than Mother,” said Delia’s only child, betraying the full extent of his emotional dislocation.
“Did Boyd say anything to you about—” she stumbled over the word “—us?”
“He said you’d agreed he’d make the announcement after he’d spoken to his father.”
“Who won’t be at all happy,” Leona repeated, showing her anxiety. The last thing she wanted to do was cause big trouble. For one thing, it might rebound on her own father, who held a high position in the firm. Rupert was not a man to be crossed.
Sharp-eyed Robbie inspected his stepsister’s lovely distressed face. “Why, Leo, sweetie, Boyd won’t give a damn about that. I keep telling you. He loves you. You’re the only woman in the world for him. Hell, I just hope I can find a woman I can love like Boyd loves you. Don’t you know how lucky you are?”
“Did he say he loved me?” Leona asked, so very uncertain of Boyd’s true motives.
“Leo, he doesn’t have to,” Robbie said. “When have you ever put into words your true feelings for Boyd? You’ve spent your time throwing dust in his eyes. I’d say Boyd has acted admirably. He’s given you an opportunity to grow up, stand on your own two feet, carve out a career. He’s very proud of you. We all are. Who cares about old Rupe? To be honest, I don’t think Boyd cares a lot about him either. Well, he is his father, but I have the feeling Boyd has never forgiven Rupe for the hard time he gave his mother. I do remember Aunt Alexa as being the loveliest lady and so kind to me. Then old Rupe ups and marries that gold-digger, Jinty. How he could after losing a woman like Alexa, I’ll never know.”
Leona didn’t know either. “For someone who is only twenty, you’re very perceptive, Robbie,” she said.
“That’s true.” He took the compliment for a statement of fact. “How did beautiful Alexa marry that wicked man? It couldn’t have been the money. Alexa’s family is old money, establishment.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Rupert is still a handsome, virile man,” Leona said wryly. “If Jinty left him tomorrow—”
“That will never happen,” Robbie assured her.” Being Mrs Rupert Blanchard counts for everything in Jinty’s world. I bet she’s cursing the day Oz cut away from the Queen’s Honours system. She could have been Lady Blanchard. Now, wouldn’t that be something?”
“Actually, there is a Lady Blanchard,” Leona said, referring to the English side of the family. “But my point is that Rupert could have his pick of goodness knows how many women. Some as young as me.”
“Then it’s really a form of prostitution, isn’t it?” Robbie opined. “Selling yourself for money.”
Leona swallowed. “Well, I suppose that’s one way to put it.”
“It could never be you.” Robbie turned to her with his flashing white smile. “You and Boyd are not like them. You’re marrying for love. Hell, I feel like dancing!” He jumped up and held out his hand. “Come on. Let’s go back to the house. I’m starving.”
The three polo fields received constant year round attention from Rupert’s groundsmen to keep the surfaces in fine playing condition. With the more than welcome spring rains, Polo One, with perhaps the most spectacular setting, surrounded by rolling hills and magnificent shady trees was looking in great shape. A crowd of spectators from near and far was seated on rugs, collapsible chairs, bonnets, boots of cars, cushions and so on, right around the field. Those who weren’t early enough to find the choicest spots beneath the trees made sure they brought big beach umbrellas to ward off the brilliant sun.
Each team was made up of four players, wearing a different coloured jersey, bearing the number of the position they were playing. Robbie, who had made a lightning recovery, was wearing a green Number 1 jersey, which meant he was the most offensive player. Peter Blanchard was Number 4, primarily responsible for defending his team’s goal. Peter’s cousin, James, was at Number 2. James was more experienced than either Robbie or Peter. Boyd, as team captain, wore a deep red jersey that for some reason made his eyes look bluer than ever. Boyd, with an impressive armoury of strokes, was the highest rated player so he had the pivotal position of Number 3.
Leona, pre-match, moved freely about the gathering, greeting and being greeted by the familiar polo crowd. All four men on the Blanchard team looked stunningly handsome in their gear, a thought she was not alone in having; the tight-fitting white trousers, coloured jerseys, high boots, knee guards and helmets gave them the glamour of men in uniform. The opposing team looked pretty dashing too. To make it even better for the young female spectators, six of the eight players were bachelors.
In a cordoned off area beneath the deep shade of the trees were the polo ponies … A great polo pony was essential to a fine player’s performance and proficiency. The Blanchard team was superbly mounted. There were twenty-four ponies in all, mostly mares, that had to be made available during a match, due to the extreme demands put on a pony during the six period chukkas. Four minute breaks were taken to enable the players to change ponies.
Polo, one of the fastest, roughest, most dangerous games in the world of sport, was thus a rich man’s game. The upkeep of the teams of ponies alone was sufficient to keep it that way.
Leona