Tomorrow's Bride(27)

'Your... your name?'

'Apparently her mother is a Cavour, and they trace their family back to the conquistadores, so...'

Leigh made a great show of treating the matter seriously. 'So there's  quite a chance that it was one of her family who set off in 1588, missed  his way and ended up in Loughskerrie?'

'More than likely, I should say.' He grinned, and instantly they were  both shaking with laughter again, both revelling in the amiable,  light-hearted sparring which had added such spice to then: relationship  from the beginning.
                       
       
           



       
With an effort Leigh concentrated on what he was saying. 'She's a very attractive woman, Inés, if-----'

'Oh, yes, a lot of men have thought so.'

'If you like that type, but I've always preferred a more willowy shape...'

'Tell me, Patrick-----' it seemed appropriate to ask, when she was so  warmly gathered against him '-did you have any idea when you came to  Strasbourg that I was-----?'

'Not the slightest.' He was so definite that she knew she had been  fooling herself from the beginning. 'But I think that, quite without  knowing it, I had been looking out for you over the years- searching  rooms when I went to parties, looking up expectantly when I heard a  certain type of voice. Deep down I don't think I ever accepted that we  wouldn't meet again, but I lost contact with most of our friends when I  was in Ashala, and besides, I convinced myself that you would have  married by this time, and I had no intention of rocking the boat for  you.'

'Oh.' Such a carbon copy of her own experience was hardly surprising...

'Tell you what, though.' Twisting round in his arms, she observed his  slightly guilty expression as he spoke. 'I do have one confession.' Her  raised eyebrow encouraged him to continue. 'The flight that day to  Paris-it wasn't entire coincidence. I met Kyle in the corridor and  something he said gave me a clue. From there it wasn't difficult to  discover which flight you were on. And yes, I did persuade the girl at  the check-in desk to arrange for me to have the seat next to you. Though  for all the good it did me... You were quite unspeakable.'

She giggled, and blushed with as much coyness as a fulsome compliment  might have produced. 'I was, wasn't I? But you flirted outrageously with  the stewardess so you deserved it.'

'And you dismissed my invitation to dinner as if I had the plague. And  then,' he remembered with indignation, 'as I was getting out of the  lift, I met Kyle on his way up to your room. And now you're surprised  that I drew certain conclusions!'

'I was and I am.' Standing on tiptoe, she spoke with her mouth against  his. 'But, since you apologised for all your unfair accusations, I've  made up my mind to forgive you for causing me so much pain. Besides, you  weren't to know that he had Anna hidden discreetly away in his  taxi-cab.'

'Magnanimous of you, I'm sure. But now-----' he frowned '-I suppose  there are one or two things we ought to sort out. Your flat, for one. I  suppose you'll want to go over to Strasbourg and collect your things  and-----?'

'Either that,' she put in innocently, 'or you could give up yours. It's perfectly possible to commute daily to Paris.'

'Is it?' There was the faintest of smiles on his face as he looked down  at her. 'The problem is, a lot of my work means travelling world-wide,  and I expect whenever possible that you should go with me-in the early  days at least.' His meaning was so clear that she felt herself grow  warm, and deliberately looked down to hide the evidence.

'But... I did think I might just hang on to my job for a bit. After all, most people do these days.'

'No chance.' That was categoric enough. 'I haven't found you again  simply to settle for an arm's-length marriage. I'm earning enough to  keep us both in reasonable comfort, and if you do find you have time on  your hands there will be plenty of organisations who will jump at the  chance of using your skills.'

'So...it's come to this. I'm to give up my tinpot job in favour of ironing your shirts...'

'A much more worthwhile occupation.' He grinned and it was impossible  for her to stop her own mouth curving in response. 'You know what I  think of most politicians. And I can see-----' now there was a  speculative expression in his dark eyes '-that that expression still  rankles...'

'It does.' She aimed a playful punch at his shoulder, frowned when he  grimaced as if in pain. 'But it rankled even more when I discovered just  how futile it all was. You know, I never did discover what happened to  all the immaculate reports I produced for them. Went in the shredder, I  expect.'

'My poor darling. What a depressing experience for your first job.' He  kissed the tip of her nose. 'How much more satisfying if you had come  with me to Ashala. Teaching basic hygiene and helping to care for  abandoned children might not have had the same cachet but, I promise  you, it would have been much more worthwhile. Besides which, we would  have been together.'                       
       
           



       

'Yes.' A shadow crossed her face. 'Yes, and to think that if it hadn't  been for that chance meeting with Debbie Fleetham I would have followed  you. I had decided to swallow my pride and ask you to find a place for  me...'

'Pride.' He sighed, and his arms tightened about her. 'I had more than  my share too. I should have carried you off by force when you didn't  agree to come voluntarily. I would do that now if you were to show any  sign of changing your mind, so...'

'As I think I told you, no chance.' She laid her head on his chest, but  almost immediately began to detach herself. 'Heavens.' She was blushing  again. 'I just caught sight of Dad at the kitchen window. I keep  forgetting about him, but we'd better go and tell him. I only hope the  shock isn't too much for him.'

But when they went into the kitchen, eyes glowing, fingers entwined,  though he went through all the familiar expressions of surprise and  pleasure, Leigh had the impression that the news was not quite the  bombshell they had anticipated.





CHAPTER TEN



WHEN she reached the lych-gate of the Norman church and found it barred,  the bride paused, exhibiting mock-dismay, then smiled appealingly to  the children enacting the old tradition. But it was only after corns had  changed hands that the seven-year-old girl began to untie the gate.  'Thank you, Caroline.' Leigh paused, knowing the girl would be anxious  afterwards to give a detailed report of the dress, and besides, she had  known her all of her life.

'You look just...lovely, Leigh.' The child spoke shyly, while the others murmured agreement.

'And that's a remark I have to agree with.' Her father waited as she  gathered up the skirt of her gown and stepped on to the flagged path  curving through the churchyard towards the porch. 'I think I'm safe to  say I've never seen a prettier bride.'

'Not that you're at all biased,' she teased gently to hide her emotions.  'I bet every father who has walked up here with his daughter has said  the very same thing.' She gave his arm a tiny squeeze, which in its  quiet way was an acknowledgement of the shift in their relationship.  'Not that I'm complaining, and...I'm glad you're giving me away. It  wouldn't have felt right going up the aisle on someone else's arm.'

'Well, the archdeacon adds something which a mere parish priest cannot,  and when he's your godfather as well... And you do know how pleased we  are, your mother and I, that you're marrying Patrick, don't you? You  seem so right for each other. In fact, we thought that the first time  you brought him to meet us, quite a long time ago. We expected  wedding-bells right then, but I suppose...you were too young at that  time.'

There were few such perfect days in early autumn. The village was  looking its best, the church, so typically English, nestling among trees  all changing colour, blazing gold and rust in the warm sunshine. The  light had even penetrated the interior of the church, gleaming gently  through the stained glass, casting a mellow glow on the packed  congregation.

In the porch the three bridesmaids were waiting; the adult was Patrick's  sister, Grainne, and the other two were the eight-year-old twin  daughters of Leigh's cousin. All were excited and pretty in dresses of  cream silk patterned all over with tiny sprigs of flowers.

'Now.' Mrs Gray, churchwarden and general organiser of village affairs,  gave a signal. 'She's ready for you now. Off you go and good luck.'  Which was what she had been saying to brides for the past twenty years.  The music of Wagner's 'Bridal March' began rather wheezily on the organ  and Leigh Gregory started at last on the short journey which would  transform her into Leigh Cavour.

There he was, at the far end in front of the altar, waiting for her. She  could see the back of his head, Mir immaculately cut, and beside him,  not quite so tall but almost as handsome, his brother Fergal. Both were  incredibly distinguished in morning dress.