Master of her Virtue. Miranda Lee
thank heavens. Not even when he’d got divorced for a second time a few years back.
Henry returned his glass to the table before settling a sceptical gaze on his son. ‘Really, Leo?’ he said. ‘What was the problem, then? You never did fully explain the reasons behind your first divorce. I just presumed there was another woman. After all, you were mixing with a pretty racy crowd by then.’
‘There wasn’t any other woman. I just didn’t love Grace any more.’
‘I see. I’m sorry to have misjudged you. But you could have set me straight before this. Why didn’t you?’
‘I just didn’t like talking about it. I guess I was ashamed of myself.’
‘No need to feel ashamed for being honest. So you weren’t unfaithful; mmm, I am surprised. I presume the same doesn’t hold for your second marriage?’
Leo couldn’t help laughing. But there was a slightly bitter edge to his amusement.
‘Unfaithfulness was certainly a large factor in that divorce,’ he admitted. ‘Just not mine.’
Henry frowned over the rim of his wine glass which had frozen just before reaching his lips. ‘Are you saying Helene was unfaithful to you?’
Again, Leo had to laugh. ‘Thank you for making it sound like that’s impossible.’
Henry looked hard at his son and saw what he always saw: a very handsome, very successful, very charming man. Women had always found him irresistible, ever since he was a little boy.
His Aunt Victoria had adored him, making sure he didn’t lack for feminine love and attention as he grew up. She’d taken responsibility for that part of his education which no father or school could provide, giving him a love of the things women loved, like movies and music.
Each year, during Leo’s summer holidays from school, she’d taken him abroad, showing him the world’s wonders and teaching him all there was to know about different cultures. She’d also taught him another talent: how to listen. Which was why the female sex found him so appealing. There was nothing more seductive to a woman than a man who listened to them. Of course, it did help that he’d also been blessed with great genes. Good looks did run in the family.
It seemed unbelievable to Henry that any woman would look elsewhere when she had a man like Leo in her life and in her bed.
‘So, who was the silly girl sleeping with?’ he asked. ‘One of her leading men, I suppose?’
‘All of them, it seems,’ Leo admitted drily. ‘Or so I found out later. I only caught her with one of them. She claimed it was only sex; that she did it to relax during a shoot. I didn’t quite see it that way. Now, could we talk about something else? This wine, perhaps?’
‘Do you like it?’
‘It’s as good as any you can buy in Europe.’
‘There’s nothing to compare with a South Australian Shiraz. And there’s nothing to compare with Sydney Harbour on New Year’s Eve.’
‘Let’s hope the good weather holds, then,’ Leo said.
‘It should. I just hope Violet doesn’t do a runner at the last moment.’
‘You think she might?’
Henry frowned. ‘Actually, no, I don’t. Which is odd in itself. She sounded different on the phone just now. More confident. No; I think she’ll turn up. I just hope she doesn’t come as someone boring like Jane Eyre. Or a nun.’
‘Most of the movies I’ve seen with nuns in them aren’t boring.’
‘True. Violet would probably come as the nun in that old movie set during the war on an island in the Pacific. What was it, now?’
‘Heaven Knows, Mr Allison.’
He slanted Leo an admiring glance. ‘Yes, that’s the one. You do know your movies, don’t you?’
‘I should do. It’s my job. Besides, that particular movie was one of Aunt Vicky’s favourites.’
‘Dear Victoria,’ Henry said wistfully. ‘I still miss her terribly, you know.’
‘So do I.’ Leo’s aunt had died a few years back, not long before Leo had married Helene. Perhaps, if she’d been alive, Aunt Vicky would have seen through Helen’s surface beauty to the ugliness which lay beneath. She’d been an excellent judge of character.
‘You know, Henry, Aunt Vicky would have loved this place.’
‘Yes. I do believe she would have. Shall we have a toast to her?’ Henry suggested.
Leo smiled with fond remembrance. ‘Why not? To Aunt Vicky,’ he said as he reached over and clinked his glass against Henry’s. ‘Who, if she were alive today, would definitely not come to your New Year’s Eve party dressed as a nun.’
Henry chuckled. ‘You’d be right there. Nothing shy and retiring about Victoria.’
They each took a deep swallow of their wine, after which both men fell silent.
Leo’s thoughts returned to Henry’s assistant, Violet. She sounded an intriguing sort of girl. He couldn’t wait to meet her. Couldn’t wait to see what she would wear to Henry’s party. He wished that the party was tonight. But it wasn’t; he’d have to wait two more whole days till New Year’s Eve. Darn! Patience was not one of his virtues.
CHAPTER THREE
‘THERE’S NO NEED for you to be nervous,’ Joy said to Violet as they drew nearer to the street where Henry lived. ‘You look beautiful.’
Violet knew that Joy was just saying that to make her feel better. She didn’t look beautiful—she looked petrified. Which was exactly what she was, all her new-found boldness having flown out the window the moment she’d climbed into Joy’s car for the drive over to Point Piper. It seemed that thinking about going to Henry’s party was a lot different from actually going.
‘I don’t think I can do this, Joy,’ she blurted out, her hands turning clammy as they twisted together in her lap.
Joy sighed, then pulled the car over to the kerbside. But she didn’t turn the small sedan around. She just switched off the engine then faced Violet with stern grey eyes.
‘Do I have to remind you what happened on that plane, Violet? And what you told me you’d decided to do from now on?’
Shame made Violet grimace. She’d been so full of resolve after her near-death experience, so determined to change. Yet here she was, skittering to a halt at the first hurdle.
‘A life lived in fear, Violet, is no life at all,’ Joy quoted from somewhere. ‘But it’s up to you. I’ll take you home if that’s what you really want. But you’ll hate yourself in the morning.’
Violet already hated herself.
Joy reached over and touched her gently on her whitened knuckles. ‘I know it must be hard for you to do this. Bad habits are very difficult to break. But you have to start somewhere. You can’t hide yourself away for the rest of your life. You’re no longer a teenage girl with a face full of pimples and scars. You’re a lovely young woman with clear skin, beautiful eyes and a figure I would have killed for when I was your age.’
‘Really?’
‘God, yes. I had no bust to speak of, even in my twenties. And no hips either. But we’re talking about you, dear, not me. So what’s it to be? Are you going to your boss’s party, or are you going to be a wishy-washy lily-livered little nincompoop and ask me to take you home?’
Violet could not help it. She laughed, her laughter breaking some of the tension which had been gathering inside her chest since she’d got dressed this evening.
‘Of course,’ Joy