Tomorrow's Bride(14)

And was it possible that she had just thrown away the perfect  opportunity to show how forgiving she could be? The treacherous thought  was difficult to accommodate. Last night. A shudder ran through her as  various scenes forced themselves into her mind. Last night had been a  graphic illustration of what was missing from her life, and she had  spent the greater part of the day confidently predicting a change in her  lifestyle.

And yet... and yet if he had been willing, and she had absolutely no  reason to imagine he hadn't been, what was there to stop her repeating  what had happened last night? To put it crudely, what was to stop her  using Patrick Cavour just as she vast planning to use other men? Yes,  and to be used by them-she wasn't foolish enough to ignore that aspect  of such a relationship. As she once heard in a corny old film, why  settle a penny candle when you could reach for the moon?

Ah, well, films were one thing, but now, after seeing him, even after  having that stand-up row with him, she knew it was all wishful thinking,  She was no more free now to exploit, to keep her notional life  separate, than she had been all those years ago. Less, in fact, much,  much less, for last night had been clear proof that she had never quite  escaped. And now she was forced to ask herself if it had all been worth  it, for pride certainly didn't keep you warm at night. How bitter to  begin to recognise the perfect scenario about five years too late.





CHAPTER FIVE



AT LEAST that was one worry she could dismiss from her mind. Vigorously  Leigh cleaned her teeth, wide eyes scrutinising her reflection in the  bathroom mirror, wondering why she didn't feel a more positive sense of  relief.

Her head was hidden by a white towel wrapped turban-style about her  newly shampooed hair. Possibly that was why she looked so woebegone, but  it certainly wasn't due to the time of the month. It was... Hastily she  turned away, went to the bedroom and took a moment plugging in the  hairdrier. It was almost as if there was some half-buried disappointment  that she didn't, after all, find herself pregnant with Patrick Cavour's  child.

Incredible. She made a lukewarm attempt to laugh at herself. For the  three days since that awful scene with him she had been desperately  worried, toying with all sorts of impractical plans, wondering how her  parents would react-with dismay and disappointment, that was one  certainty. She knew other women who had chosen to bring up children on  their own, but when she had visualised herself in the mother role there  had always been some man there alongside her. Impatient with herself,  she carelessly dragged at a strand of hair. Oh, why not be completely  honest...? One man by her side-not some man. Always the same man...

That, of course, could explain a lot. Her questioning violet eyes were  shadowy with pain. Had she, perhaps, been harbouring a secret fantasy of  confronting Patrick, telling him that in spite of her earlier  assurances she did find that she was expecting his child, and what did  he suggest they should do?

It wasn't, was not, as if she had had any idea that he might suggest  marriage. Of course not. Even if they had been in a permanent  relationship she would neither have expected nor wished for such a  thing, but... He would most likely have been frightfully decent and  correct, would have assured her that she need not worry, that he would  assume full responsibility, that she need have no worries about finances  and...

Tears stung unexpectedly at her eyes. She blinked several times and  sniffed. And naturally it would have given her enormous pleasure to  refuse, to say that of course she would manage perfectly, that she was  informing him solely because he had been so insistent about it.                       
       
           



       

In an effort at distraction she ran her fingers through her hair  approvingly. What a relief to be self-approving for once, to like the  way it shone with cleanliness, the way it floated softly about her head.  She shrugged off her towelling robe and reached for her clean things.  Anyway, it was a great relief to consign that particular worry to  history. Tonight she planned to go to the nearest bistro and eat a  pleasant meal. A pity she would be on her own-she had thought of calling  Holly, but there was no way she was going to risk an invitation to that  particular apartment...

When the telephone shrilled, she jumped, sighed when she realised how  shot to pieces her nerves were, and walked into the hallway to pick up  the receiver.

'Oh, Kyle.' It was a relief to hear her employer's voice. 'I didn't expect-----Is there anything wrong?'

'Nothing at all, love. I just wondered... I had to come to Paris  unexpectedly, and now I f hid I have the evening free. I'm booked back  on a late flight but I wondered-can I persuade you to take pity on me  and come out to dinner? There's a new place I've just heard of, should  be worth a visit, and you know I always hate the idea of eating alone.  So, how about it?'

'Oh, Kyle.' Her immediate reaction was reluctance. 'I was just about to pop down to Verdier's on the corner.'

'Change your mind! The place I have in mind is an old mill-house on the  river; on a balmy evening like this it must be worth going to. You could  bring me up to date on the last few days and I promise to get you back  before midnight.' 'I'd rather bring you up to date during working hours,  if you don't mind, and I would like to be back here long before  midnight, but...' She wavered, knowing instinctively that the worst  thing for her in her present mood would be too much of her own undiluted  company.

'Go on.' Sensing her weakening, he pressed his advantage. 'You shall come home the moment it suits you.'

'And you promise you won't talk shop?'

'I promise. Thanks, Leigh; I'll pick you up in about thirty minutes.'  And he rang off, leaving her wondering why she had given in so easily.

However, when they reached the small, elegant restaurant, having  strolled across beautifully clipped turf to the little terrace on the  banks of the Seine, and when they had lingered a while over clinking  glasses of Campari and soda, she found that her mood was very nearly  mellow.

It was a positive relief not to be dining on her own, and Kyle was just  the land of undemanding male companion who suited the occasion. They got  on well together, and if at one time he had rather given the impression  that their relationship could develop into something warmer, at least  he had quickly picked up the message that she wasn't into entanglements  with married men and had moved on. There were rumours about him and a  number of his colleagues, but she had never troubled to find out if they  were true. Now his manner towards her was that of a good friend as well  as employer, and that suited both of them.

Another plus was that the prospect of dinner in a smart restaurant had  forced her to take a little more trouble with her appearance, which  meant that her morale had risen slightly. At least, she was confident  that the aquamarine shirt suited her and the navy patterned skirt wasn't  too casual. Round her neck she had linked a short string of glass  beads, blue shot through in a variety of shades, which gave the entire  outfit a lift.

'Ah.' When he had come into the flat to collect her, Kyle had allowed an  appreciative gaze to skim over her. 'You're looking better.' He had  smiled amiably. 'I was beginning to worry about you.'

'You needn't.' Her tone had been very slightly sharp, possibly because  she had known he was right. There had been shadows beneath her eyes- too  many sleepless nights, she imagined-but it was amazing what a few  moments with paint and powder could do to restore one's credibility. And  a good blast of that delicious perfume she had bought the other day.

Inside the restaurant, amazingly busy for an evening mid-week, they were  shown to a large round table with four place-settings, two of which  were speedily whisked away. A waiter flicked once or twice at the  immaculate pink linen before they were seated and offered menus.

'Mmm.' Realising she was very hungry, Leigh studied the list with  interest. 'Clever of you to find this place, Kyle. Who told you about  it?'                       
       
           



       

'Hmm? What?' He glanced across at her. 'Oh... must have been someone in  Strasbourg. I can't remember exactly who, but you know how interested  they all are in food.'

'I am too, right now. And I've made up my mind.' She laid aside her  menu, waited while Kyle had a conference with the waiter, then gave her  order. 'I suppose Anna is still in Strasbourg?'

'Anna?' For just a split-second the comment, casual as it was, appeared  to throw him. 'Yes, so far as I know. Though at this time in the  evening--' he glanced at his watch and shrugged '-who knows?'

'Mmm. I confess I'm not sure what she does in her free time.' First  courses arrived, napkins were shaken out, draped across knees. 'We meet  from time to time, but since we live at opposite ends of the town...'