Authors: Danielle Steel
And then, she dared to ask him something she knew she probably shouldn’t. “Have you made up your mind?”
“Absolutely.” She’d been afraid of that. And then he saw her face and laughed. “Mother … trust me …” She wished she could, but she had a feeling deep in the pit of her stomach that he was making a mistake. And when they met at Maxim’s on Friday night, she was certain of it.
There was no denying that the girl was beautiful, she had the cool, icy blond beauty one imagines the Swedes have. She was long, tall, thin, with creamy skin, big blue eyes, and pale blond hair that hung straight to her shoulders. She said she had been a model at fourteen, but then she got into the movies, and she had been acting since she was seventeen. She had been in five movies in seven years, and Sarah remembered vaguely that there had been a scandal involving her sleeping with a director when she was underage. And then there had been something about her first divorce, from an equally naughty young actor. Her second husband had been a more interesting choice. She had married a German playboy and she had been trying to take him for a great deal of money. But Julian insisted that a settlement had just been made. And they would be able to marry by Christmas.
Sarah did not find herself anxious to celebrate. She wanted to go home and cry. It was happening again. One of her children was blindly walking into someone else’s trap and absolutely refused to see it. Why couldn’t he have an affair with her? Why did he have to delude himself that this was a girl to marry? It would have been obvious to Helen Keller that she wasn’t. She was beautiful, and incredibly sexy, but her eyes were cold, and everything about her was calculated and planned. There was nothing spontaneous or sincere or warm, or caring about her. And Sarah suspected from the way she looked at him, that she liked him, she wanted him, but she didn’t love him. Everything about the girl suggested that she was a taker and a user. And Julian deluded himself that she was an adorable little girl, and he loved her.
“Well?” he asked happily when Yvonne went to powder her nose at the end of dinner. “Isn’t she terrific? Don’t you love her?” He was so blind, it exhausted her. They all were. She patted his hand, and said she was a beautiful girl, which was true. And the next day, when he picked up some papers from her, she tried to talk about it discreetly.
“I think marriage is a very serious thing,” she began, feeling four hundred years old and incredibly stupid.
“So do I,” he said, looking amused by his mother being so pedantic. It wasn’t like her. Usually she was pretty direct, but she was afraid to be now. She had learned that lesson once, no matter how right she had been, and she didn’t want to lose him. But with Julian, she knew, it was different. Isabelle had been hot-headed and young, and Julian adored his mother, and was less likely to reject her completely. “I think we’re going to be very happy,” he said optimistically, which gave Sarah the opening she needed.
“I’m not as sure. Yvonne is an unusual girl, Julian. She’s had a checkered career, and she’s been taking care of herself for ten years.” She had run away from home at fourteen, she’d explained, and had given up school to model. “She’s a survivor. She’s looking out for herself, maybe more than even for you. I’m not sure she really wants what you do, when you think of marriage.”
“What does that mean? You think she’s after my money?”
“Possibly.”
“You’re wrong.” He looked angry at her. She had no right to do this, as far as he was concerned. But she thought she did, because she was his mother. “She just got half a million dollars from her husband in Berlin.”
“How nice for her,” Sarah said coolly. “And how long were they married?”
“Eight months. She left him because he forced her to have an abortion.”
“Are you sure? The newspapers say that she left him for the son of a Greek shipping tycoon, and he then dumped her for some little French girl. Complicated group of people you run with.”
“She’s a decent girl, and she’s had a tough time. She’s never had anyone to take care of her. Her mother was a whore, and she never even knew her father. He left before she was born, and her mother ditched her when she was thirteen. How can you expect her to have gone to some prissy little finishing school, like my sister?” His sister had made her own mistakes in spite of that, but this girl wasn’t making mistakes. She was making intelligent, calculating decisions. And Julian was one of them. You could see it.
“I hope you’re right. I just don’t want you to be unhappy.”
“You have to let us lead our own lives,” he said angrily. “You can’t tell us what to do.”
“I try not to.”
“I know.” He forced himself to calm down. He really didn’t want to fight with her. But he was sad that she hadn’t been more impressed by Yvonne. He’d been crazy about her from the first moment he saw her. “It’s just that you always think you know what’s right for us, and sometimes you’re wrong.” Though he hated to admit it, not often. But still, he had a right to do what he wanted.
“I hope I’m wrong this time,” she said sadly.
“Will you give us your blessing?” That meant a lot to him. He had always adored her.
“If you want it.” She leaned forward and kissed him, with tears in her eyes. “I love you so much … I don’t ever want you to suffer.”
“I won’t.” He beamed. He left then, and Sarah sat alone in her apartment for a long time, thinking of William, and her children, and wondering miserably why they were all so stupid.
Chapter 28
ULIAN
and Yvonne were married in a civil ceremony performed at the
mairie
of La Marolle at Christmas. And then they all went back to the château, and had a sumptuous lunch. There were about forty guests, and Julian looked blissfully happy. Yvonne wore a short, beige lace dress by Givenchy, which reminded Sarah vaguely of a short modern version of her own when she married William. But all similarities ended there. There was a hardness to the girl, and a coldness that genuinely frightened Sarah.
It was obvious to Emanuelle, too, and the two women stood and laughed together ruefully in a quiet corner. “Why does this keep happening to us?” Sarah said, shaking her head and looking at her old friend, who put a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“I told you … every time I look at you, I count my lucky stars that I never had children.” But it wasn’t entirely true. There were times when she envied her, particularly now as she got older.
“They certainly make me wonder sometimes. I don’t understand it. She’s like ice, and he thinks she adores him.”
“I hope he never sees the truth,” Emanuelle said quietly, and she didn’t tell Sarah that he had bought her a thirty-carat canary diamond ring for their wedding, and he had two matching bracelets on order. She was doing very well, and Emanuelle was sure that this was only the beginning.
Isabelle had come to the wedding, too, without Lorenzo this time, and she was full of tales of the store in Rome. Everything was going brilliantly, and she was only annoyed that they had to spend so much money on guards. The situation in Italy, with the terrorists and the Red Brigade, made things difficult. But business was booming. Phillip had even had the grace to admit he’d been wrong, but not the spirit to come to his brother’s wedding. But Julian didn’t mind. All he saw, all he knew, all he wanted was Yvonne. And now he had her.
They were going to Tahiti for their honeymoon. Yvonne had said she’d never been and always wanted to go there. And they were going to stop in Los Angeles on the way home, to see his Aunt Jane, Sarah’s sister. Sarah hadn’t seen her in years, but they still kept in close touch, and Julian always maintained a family spirit. And conveniently, Yvonne wanted to go to Beverly Hills to go shopping.
Sarah saw them off, with the rest of the guests. And Isabelle stayed at the château until New Year’s, which pleased Sarah. They celebrated Xavier’s sixteenth birthday with him, and Isabelle said it seemed difficult to believe that he was so grown-up, she still remembered when he was a baby, which made Sarah laugh.
“Think how I feel when I look at you and Julian and Phillip. It seems like only yesterday when you were all small…” Her mind drifted off for a minute then, as she thought of William and those years. They had been so happy.
“You still miss him, don’t you?” Isabelle asked softly, and Sarah nodded.
“It never goes away. You just learn to live with it.” Like losing Lizzie. She had never stopped loving her, or feeling the loss, she had just learned to live with the pain day by day, until it became a burden she was used to. But Isabelle knew something about that too. The absence of children in her life was a constant pain in her heart, and her hatred for Lorenzo weighed on her whenever she let herself think of it, which lately, was less and less often. Mercifully, she was too busy with the store now to think of much else. And Sarah was thrilled they had opened a store in Rome for Isabelle to run.
She was sad to see her go, and life went on peacefully after that. That year seemed to fly by, as it always did. And then suddenly, it was summer, and they were all coming to visit for her birthday. She was going to be sixty-five, and for some reason she dreaded it, but they had all insisted on coming to the château, and helping her to celebrate it, which was her only consolation.
“I can’t bear thinking I’m so old,” she admitted to Isabelle when they arrived. Lorenzo had come, too, this time, which seemed too bad. Isabelle was always more tense when he was around, but they had a lot to talk about, about the store, which kept her distracted.
Phillip and Cecily came, too, of course. She was in high spirits, and talked endlessly about her new horse. She was involved with the English Olympic equestrian team, and she and Princess Anne had just gone hunting together in Scotland. They were old friends from school, and Cecily seemed not to even notice the fact that Phillip neither listened nor spoke to her. She just went on talking. Their children had come too. Alexander and Christina. They were fourteen and twelve, and Xavier was a good sport about keeping them amused, although he was older. He took them swimming in the pool, played tennis with them, and teased them by making them call him “Uncle” Xavier, which amused them.
And then finally, Julian and Yvonne arrived, in his brand-new Jaguar. She was looking prettier than ever, and rather languid, and Sarah couldn’t decide if it was due to the heat, or boredom. It wasn’t likely to be an exciting weekend for any of them, she mused, and she felt guilty for bringing them there. At least she could tell them about her trip to Botswana with Xavier. It had been fascinating, and she’d even visited relatives of William in Cape Town. She’d brought home small presents for everyone, but Xavier had brought home some extraordinary fossils and rocks, some rare but rough-cut gems, and a collection of black diamonds. He had a real passion for stones, and an eye for them, an immediate instinct for their value, in the roughest state, and how they would have to be cut to preserve them. He had particularly loved the diamond mines they’d visited in Johannesburg, and had tried to talk his mother into bringing home a tanzanite the size of a grapefruit.
“I had no idea what to do with it,” she explained, after telling them the story.
“They’re very popular in London now,” Phillip said, but he was not in the best mood. Nigel had been ill recently, and was talking about retiring at the end of the year, which was bad news for him. He told his mother that he would be impossible to replace after all these years, and she didn’t remind him of how much he’d hated him at first. They would all miss him, if he left, and she still hoped he wouldn’t.
They went on talking about the trip to Africa for a while, over lunch on their first day there, and then she apologized for boring them. Enzo was staring at the sky, and she could see that Yvonne was restless.
Cecily said she wanted to see the stables after lunch, and Sarah informed her that there was nothing new there, just the same old tired horses, but Cecily went anyway. Lorenzo went to take a nap, Isabelle wanted to show her mother some sketches she’d designed, and Julian had promised to take Xavier and Phillip’s children for a ride in his new car, which left Phillip and Yvonne on their own, feeling somewhat awkward. He had only met her once before since they’d been married, but he had to admit she was a smashing-looking girl. Her blond hair was so pale, it looked almost white in the midday sun, as he offered her a tour of the gardens. And as they strolled, she referred to him as “Your Grace,” which he didn’t seem to mind or find inappropriate, but then again, she loved being Lady Whitfield. She told him about her one brief experience in Hollywood, and he seemed fascinated, and as they walked and talked, she seemed to move closer to him. He could smell the shampoo in her hair, and as he looked down at her, he could see right down the front of her dress. It was almost all he could do to control himself suddenly as he stood next to her, she was an incredibly sensuous young woman.
“You’re very beautiful,” he said suddenly, as she looked up at him almost shyly. They were at the very back of the rose garden by then, and the air was so hot and still, she wished they could take their clothes off.