The Society Bride

‘But of course you must go to university,’ Ramon replied. Part of him was shocked that her future might be compromised. The other part, the part that didn’t want to recognise just how attractive he found her, thought how appealing it was that in this day and age, when most women he came across thought only of their own wellbeing and personal ambition, she should place her grandfather first. Which, in turn, reminded him of all the pain she was going to experience when she learned of his terminal illness.

‘Maybe one day I’ll be able to go to college,’ she replied with a shrug. ‘I’d really like to. But please,’ she said, her brows creasing suddenly, ‘promise you won’t tell Grandfather? I would hate for him to be upset or worried.’

‘Of course I won’t say anything. Anyway, it’s none of my business. Still, it seems odd that he won’t—’ Suddenly Ramon remembered. Of course Don Rodrigo didn’t want her out there, in the midst of people over whom he had no control. ‘Where were you accepted?’ he asked.

‘Oxford and the Sorbonne.’

He looked at her, brows raised. ‘That’s pretty good.’

‘You seem surprised,’ she countered, challenging him. ‘I suppose it’s because I’m a woman?’

‘Guilty,’ he said, a new and delicious twinkle brightening his eyes. ‘I’m afraid I’m not used to coming across women who are as lovely as you and yet who are obviously also highly gifted and intelligent.’

Nena’s cheeks flushed and she looked quickly away. ‘Oh, I’m not really that bright. I just like studying, that’s all. There’s the wood,’ she mumbled hastily.

‘What about your boyfriend?’ he probed. ‘Does he want you to go to university?’

‘Boyfriend?’ Nena frowned again, then laughed, a natural spontaneous gurgle that left Ramon swallowing. ‘Oh, I see. No, I don’t have a boyfriend. Well, I have friends, of course, like Jimmy Chandler and David Onslow at the tennis club, but that’s different.’

‘And have none of them ever tried to kiss you?’ he asked in an amused, bantering tone, unable to resist the temptation of finding out more about this alluring creature to whom he was becoming increasingly drawn, despite the strange situation they were in.

‘Oh, Lord, no—they’re just pals.’ Nena gave an embarrassed shrug and their eyes met as they reached the edge of the wood. ‘This is the wood. Do you want to see it?’

‘Honestly?’ His eyes flashed wickedly.

‘Honestly,’ she responded, lips twitching.

‘Honestly, I have no interest whatsoever in seeing your wood—though if it is half as charming as its owner I suppose I should.’

‘Oh, shut up.’ She giggled, feeling now as though she’d known him a while. ‘That’s totally silly.’

‘Why don’t we sit over there by the lake for a few minutes and relax?’

‘All right.’

They walked back across the bridge and down to the water’s edge. ‘Here, let me lay this on the grass; it may be damp,’ he said, spreading out his jacket for her, trying to sort out the conflict raging in his mind.

‘Thanks.’ She sat on part of the jacket, leaving room for him, and he lowered himself next to her.

‘Tell me, what’s it like living with your grandfather?’ he asked suddenly, throwing a pebble spinning into the still waters of the lake.

‘I love him dearly. I mean, of course at times it’s a bit restrictive, but I need to look after him. That’s why I didn’t tell him I’d been accepted at Oxford, or he might have changed his mind and felt obliged to let me go. Then there would have been no one to look after him.’

‘But surely the staff would take care of him?’

‘Yes, but that’s not the same at all,’ she dismissed, raising her lovely determined chin. ‘Lately he seems to be so frail. I can’t quite explain it, but…’ She hesitated and pressed her fingers together, a sudden frown creasing her brow. ‘I’m just being silly, I suppose, but it worries me.’ She looked up and their eyes met. ‘Your parents seem so nice,’ she said, changing the subject. ‘Do you live with them or on your own?’

‘Oh, on my own. I have several houses—my hacienda, a loft in Puert Madero in Buenos Aires. In London I stay at my parents’ place in Eaton Square, though. Quite a change,’ he added, aware that he could hardly tell her that he shared his life with Luisa, his official mistress, and on occasion a smattering of models, who drifted in and out. Luisa was not officially in-house, of course, but it was an ongoing relationship. And although she knew he had no intention of marrying her—she was twice divorced—they had a very pleasant time together.

Which brought him back to the matter at hand. What would happen to Luisa if, by some twist of fate, he decided to accept Don Rodrigo’s proposition?

Ramon glanced down at Nena once more. She was lovely, and unaware of it. Just as she was unaware of what awaited her just around the corner. Her grandfather’s death would shake her for ever from the safe cocoon she’d lived in all her life. It would be harsh and painful, he realised sadly. For as an only grandchild she was probably even more protected from the world than if her parents had been alive. Also she’d have no one—except some friends and her financial advisors—to turn to. Perhaps, he reflected sombrely, Don Rodrigo was not so wrong to want to protect her from all that might be waiting for her out there. All at once Ramon shared the old man’s fears for her.

‘Maybe we should be getting back,’ he said abruptly, glancing at the thin gold watch on his tanned wrist. ‘My parents will be wanting to leave soon.’

‘All right.’ She jumped up and he picked up the jacket, throwing it over his shoulder again as they made their way back to the group on the lawn.

It was odd, he reflected, that a plan which only an hour ago had struck him as absolutely preposterous now seemed considerably less so. Plus, as both Don Rodrigo and his father had pointed out, it was a marriage, not an affair. He was thirty-two, and would have to think of marriage and a family shortly anyway. Wouldn’t it be infinitely preferable to be married to a lovely creature like Nena, whom he could mould to his liking, teach the art of love, yet continue enjoying the Luisas of this world on the side? he reflected somewhat ruthlessly. All in all, having a beautiful, well-mannered society wife, whom he could take pleasure with in bed from time to time without changing his routine, might not be such a bad thing after all.

‘My love, I have something I need to speak to you about,’ Don Rodrigo said to his granddaughter the next evening over dinner.

‘Yes, Grandfather?’ Nena looked at him closely. He seemed very tired. In the past few days he had barely left his room, except to sit on the lawn yesterday afternoon with the Villalbas. ‘Is something wrong?’ she enquired anxiously.

‘After dinner we shall retire to the study and have a chat,’ he said, knowing the moment had finally arrived when he must tell her the truth.

Since the acceptance that morning of the proposition of marriage by Ramon Villalba he had known it was essential she learn about his illness and what the future held, however painful.

Don Rodrigo sampled a tiny spoonful of chocolate mousse. It turned bitter on his tongue. He had faced many hard moments in his life, but telling this child whom he loved so dearly that the end was near would rank among the cruellest blows life had dealt him. His only solace was that Ramon Villalba had, for whatever reason, accepted his proposition.

Half an hour later, seated as always on the tapes-tried footstool at his feet, Nena listened in anguished horror to her grandfather’s words.

‘But that’s impossible,’ she cried, grabbing his hands and squeezing them tight. ‘It can’t be true, Grandfather, there must be a mistake. You must have other tests—other opinions. It simply can’t be right,’ she ended, sobbing.

‘I’m afraid I’ve already done all that,’ he responded sadly, stroking the mane of tawny hair fanned out on his lap and soothing her tears. ‘That is why I have had to make provision for you.’

‘Pro-provision?’ she gulped, raising her head, still trying to absorb the horrible news he’d imparted.

‘Yes, my love. You must be taken care of, provided for.’

‘Please, Grandfather, don’t talk about it,’ she sobbed.

‘I’m afraid I must. Time is short and measures must be taken.’

‘Wh-what measures?’ she gulped sadly, trying to regain some control as the truth sank in.

Don Rodrigo hesitated, then, with a sigh, forged ahead. ‘Yesterday you met Ramon Villalba.’

‘Yes,’ she whispered, taking his handkerchief and blowing her nose hard.

‘And you found him—pleasant?’

‘Yes, I suppose so. He was polite. Look, Grandfather, what has that got to do with you being ill?’ she burst out, leaning back on her heels, eyes pleading.

‘Ramon Villalba has proposed marriage.’

‘Marriage?’ Nena let out a horrified gasp and stood up, clutching the damp handkerchief between her nervous fingers. ‘But that is absurd, Grandfather. How can I get married to a man I don’t know, whom I don’t love? I don’t want to get married. I—’

‘Shush, child, do not get so agitated. Come here.’ He held out his hand and she sank once more to the footstool. ‘I have talked to the Villalbas. We all agree that this marriage is a good thing.’

‘How—how can you say that, Grandfather? It’s archaic. Nobody is forced to marry any longer; it’s unheard of. Oh, please, Grandfather, this can’t be real. There must be a mistake. I’m sure if you went to another doctor—’

‘Now, now. I want you to listen, Nena. Carefully. I am absolutely decided on this marriage. And I want the wedding to take place as soon as possible.’

‘You mean he came here to inspect me, as he might a horse or a piece of cattle?’ she cried. ‘Why would he propose an arrangement like this?’

‘I can think of several reasons—all of them perfectly valid,’ Don Rodrigo answered firmly. ‘He needs a wife from a good family and of excellent upbringing who is unsoiled. Also he is adequately prepared to take care of our business ventures.’

‘So that’s it,’ she whispered bitterly. ‘A business arrangement. Oh, Grandfather, how can you auction me off like this? It’s all too horrible.’ She turned, and her shoulders shook as she sobbed. Her pain at learning of her grandfather’s terminal illness was somehow increased by the knowledge that a man whom she’d ended the afternoon finding most agreeable was in fact nothing but a dirtbag. ‘You talked with him without knowing if I wanted this?’ she whispered at last, turning back to him, her eyes glistening with tears.

‘Yes, Nena, I did. Villalba is a practical man. I have informed myself, followed his career over a period of several years. He will take care of you, look out for you and the fortune you are going to inherit.’

‘I don’t care about any of that!’ she exclaimed.

‘Maybe not, but I do. Please do this for me,’ he added, a softer, pleading note entering his voice. ‘I can die in peace knowing that you are in his hands.’

‘Oh, please don’t talk like that,’ she begged once more, kneeling next to him.

‘Then agree to my request,’ Don Rodrigo said, exercising a considerable amount of emotional pressure. He sighed inwardly. It was the only way to bring the matter to a fast and satisfactory conclusion. ‘Answer me, Nena. Tell me you’ll do as I ask.’

Nena stared through her tears at the carpet, her emotions in turmoil. The last thing she wanted was to be married to a man she barely knew. A wave of frustration overtook her. This was, after all, the most important step in her life—yet she had no control over it. Despite her feelings, she already knew what the answer must be.

‘I’ll do it, Grandfather,’ she whispered.

At that moment she hated Ramon Villalba.

CHAPTER TWO

THE wedding—a small, intimate affair, with only the two families present—took place at the fashionable church of St James, Spanish Place, in London, two weeks later. Afterwards they returned to Don Rodrigo’s house in Chester Square to quietly celebrate the nuptials.

Nena wafted through the ceremony in a daze, her emotions blunted, the pain of seeing her grandfather withering daily barely allowing her to think clearly about what the future next to a man she despised would hold.

‘Are you okay?’ Ramon asked quietly, touching her arm as they moved into the hall. She deposited the bouquet of flowers on the hall table and allowed the butler to take her wrap.

‘I’m perfectly all right,’ she answered coldly.

‘Are you sure?’ He looked down at her, noting the dark rings around her beautiful green eyes and the sadness they held. ‘A bride should be happy on her wedding day.’

‘Happy?’ she jeered, sending him a glare. ‘How could any bride be happy, married in these circumstances?’

‘I know these are not the happiest of times,’ he agreed levelly, glancing at Don Rodrigo, mounting the stairs with extreme difficulty. ‘Still, I want you to know, Nena, that as your husband I shall do my best to make you happy.’

‘How very gracious of you,’ she responded bitterly, barely attempting to conceal the anger in her voice. How dared he pretend he cared? Wasn’t it bad enough that she was losing her grandfather, whom she adored, without having Ramon’s odious presence thrust upon her?

She sent him an angry look, then spun on the heel of her designer shoe and marched towards the stairs.

Ramon followed her at a distance. To his consternation Nena had not unbent, as he’d hoped she would. She had refused to receive him again before the wedding and had barely addressed a word to him since leaving the church. He sighed. This did not bode well for the future. But it was done now. The knot had been tied and the vows exchanged. All that remained was for them both to make the best of it.

‘I thought you would prefer to come here to the island rather than be with a crowd,’ Ramon said above the purr of the engine as the helicopter hovered over the Aegean.

Nena could distinguish an island below, and a small port, with a yacht and a number of colourful fishing boats bobbing in the harbour. Then she saw a rambling white villa, surrounded by smaller dwellings with little blue shutters and, in the distance, a windmill. At any other time she would have been enchanted. But right now being in Greece on her bride-groom’s private island or being in Battersea would have meant about the same to her. All she wanted was to be alone, to think, to assimilate the shock that having her world tipped topsy-turvy from one moment to the other had left her in.

As they alighted Ramon took her hand firmly, and they walked up a small winding path from the beach where the chopper had landed. A soft evening breeze blew in from the sea, gulls twirled overhead, and villagers sat on the wall waving at them with bright smiles. As they approached the villa a little girl ran forward and, curtseying, handed her a bouquet of wild flowers. Despite her numb state and her sadness, Nena smiled down at the child and thanked her.

She gazed at the flowers, reminded that this was her wedding day.

The saddest day of her life.

For a moment tears welled, but she suppressed them as fast as they came. She had no right to be unhappy. At least her grandfather would have a happy end to his life. And that mattered more than anything.

Then all at once she became deeply conscious of Ramon standing next to her, his powerful body so close he almost touched her. And she shivered. What came next in this awful sequence of events? she wondered as slowly they moved on up towards the steps of the house. What would he expect from her as his wife?

For the first time, as they entered the huge hall, then stepped into the tiled drawing room and out onto the low-walled terrace overlooking the cerulean sea beyond, Nena faced her dilemma. Suddenly she glanced at Ramon, who was speaking to one of the servants. He looked like a man not used to being thwarted. Everyone jumped at his quiet, polite commands. What, she wondered, would he want from her?

‘I’ve ordered some champagne,’ he said, looking down at her. ‘Afterwards you might like to tour the first of your new homes,’ he added, with that same touch of sardonic humour she’d observed the first day by the lake. Remember, she told herself, he doesn’t care about you. You’re nothing more than a lucrative asset.

‘I feel rather tired,’ she said, seating herself on the colourful woven cushions that were spread over the white-washed stone sofa surrounding the wall that formed a cozy niche. ‘I think I’ll go and rest in a minute, if you don’t mind. Perhaps one of the maids could show me to my room.’

‘To our room, you mean,’ he returned firmly.

Her eyes flew up to meet his and she shivered. ‘I—I think we need to talk about that.’ She clasped her hands together and felt her cheeks go bright pink.

‘What is there to talk about?’ Ramon asked, leaning lazily back against the wall in his immaculate grey suit. He managed to look at ease in it, despite being on a relaxed Greek island.

‘A lot, I think.’

‘Oh?’ He raised an enquiring brow.

‘Yes. We—this is a marriage of convenience. You, for whatever reason, decided that it suited you to propose,’ she replied hotly, sending him an angry glare. ‘I accepted because I love my grandfather and don’t want him to end his days worrying and miserable. I don’t think that either of those reasons constitutes grounds for—for intimacy.’ She ended hurriedly, wishing this conversation wasn’t taking place.

‘I see.’ Ramon gazed at her speculatively. He hadn’t reckoned with this—had thought that once he had her to himself things would somehow smooth themselves out. Perhaps, he reflected reluctantly, he would have to give her some time to get used to the idea that she was his.

The thought sent a slash of heat racing through his body and he stood straighter. ‘We’ll talk about this later on,’ he said, seeing a servant appear with the champagne. ‘For now, let’s relax and have a drink.’

Seconds later he was handing her a glass filled with sparkling champagne. ‘Welcome to Agapos,’ he said, raising his glass. ‘May you be happy and contented here, señora mia.’

Nena made a minute gesture of acknowledgement with her glass, and instead of the sip she’d intended took a large, long gulp. She certainly needed something to get her through the next few hours…days—nights.

Ramon watched her. He would have to restrain the desire that had been consuming him for the past two weeks and control the powerful urge he had to take her to his bed. There was time for that, he told himself. No need to rush things. He was willing to pander to her present needs—for a while. Still, there was a limit to his patience.

But she was experiencing a period of deep trauma, caused by her grandfather’s illness, and their marriage must have come as something of a surprise, he realised soberly. Then there was the fact that she was very young, and apparently had very little or no sexual experience. She was perhaps afraid. It would be up to him to make sure that it all happened smoothly, that her initiation to the bedroom and its pleasures was an enjoyable experience. He took a deep breath and forced his mind onto something else before his body betrayed him.

Three nights later Ramon was feeling considerably less amenable. Nena had barely spoken to him, and when she did she was grudgingly polite. They’d spent several stonily silent hours on the beach, on the yacht, driving around the island. If he proposed a plan she agreed neither happily nor unhappily.

Indifferent.

That was what she was. And it was driving him crazy. He could have handled raw anger, tears, a show of passion. But this blatant unresponsiveness and determination to remain as distant from him as possible was intolerable.

He sent her a scorching glance across the table which had been tastefully laid on the terrace. The moon was rising and the night was dotted with stars. The perfect night to be with a woman, he thought. They could have spent wonderful hours together, yet she refused to budge from this tenacious position she’d assumed. What was going on inside that lovely head? he wondered. What thoughts rankled? What was it that was eating her?

‘Nena, I think that if there is something disturbing you, you should tell me about it. I’ve tried to be as accommodating as possible,’ he added, thinking of the separate bedrooms he’d instructed the staff to arrange, ‘but I think you owe me an explanation.’

‘An explanation?’ She lowered her fork to her plate and sent an icy stare across the crisp white cloth. ‘I don’t think I owe you anything, Ramon. Neither of us owes the other. We cut a deal. We each, apparently—though I don’t quite see it that way—are supposed to benefit from this arrangement. I can see the advantages for you. I have yet to find out what mine are.’

‘Is that how you see this? Purely as a business arrangement?’ he said, shocked that someone so young could be so level-headed, so…

‘That’s exactly how I think of it. And the sooner you do so as well, the better it will be for both of us. Why don’t we end this farce of a honeymoon at once and get back home?’

‘We are home,’ he replied coldly. ‘Home, from now on, is where I reside. My homes have now become your homes.’

‘I have to go back to my grandfather,’ she said doggedly staring at her plate.

‘I have no objection to remaining in England for the present. But in our home.’

‘But—’

‘There are no buts,’ he returned autocratically. ‘We shall stay with my parents. I have instructed my estate agents to look for a place for us.’

‘I don’t want to go to Eaton Square,’ Nena muttered through gritted teeth, her fingers clenched as she tried not to cry. ‘I want to go home—to Thurston. Why don’t you just go back to Buenos Aires and—?’

She stopped herself in time from saying back to your mistress. He had no idea that she’d seen the pictures of him and Luisa Somebody-or-other in Hola! magazine. The pictures had been taken in Gstaad, where they’d been winter sporting. In fact Ramon had no notion that she knew about his lifestyle. She had found out quite by chance about the woman in his life, as she’d flipped through an old copy of the magazine that Doña Augusta had brought for her grandfather.

And, surprisingly, it had hurt.

It didn’t matter that she despised the man for agreeing to marry her, despised his motives and everything he stood for. The sight of him—arm possessively around the shoulders of a lush, luscious, stunning brunette, obviously a highly worldly and sophisticated woman, near to his own age—had left her inordinately troubled. Not that it was anything to do with her, she’d reasoned then as she did now. What did she care how many women he slept with? She had no intention of being one of them, did she?

Ramon leaned forward and touched her hand. ‘Nena, I have no objection to your visiting your grandfather, spending time with him, and of course there will come a time—’ He cut off, unwilling to say the words he knew would hurt her so much, while deeply aware that it was his duty to prepare her for what he suspected would take place in a very short time. ‘But I do require that your official and permanent residence be under my roof,’ he finished firmly as she drew her trembling fingers from his grasp. ‘I will not allow my wife to live anywhere but with me.’

He’d never thought he would feel so strongly possessive the day he married. Had never thought about it much at all. But now that it had happened he felt a need to control, to be in the driving seat. He had never bothered being jealous in the past. If a woman lost interest—why, he usually had long before, and was sticking around out of courtesy.

But Nena was different. He sensed it deep down in a part of himself he hadn’t known existed, some deep, primeval instinct that he’d tapped into on his wedding day and wouldn’t leave him be; the same instinct that was leaving him ever more antsy as he passed her closed door each night on his way to bed.

Patience, he repeated to himself once again. She’s young. Give her time. But it was becoming increasingly difficult.