‘You left it a little late to emerge,’ he said. ‘I believe discretion usually suggests an early-morning departure. People are so censorious.’
Suddenly his meaning dawned on her.
‘Are you saying that you think-that
‘No,’ he said, almost fiercely. ‘Nor do I want to. You owe me no explanations.’
‘I certainly don’t. But you owe me an apology. How dare you think-what you are thinking? You ought to be ashamed of yourself.’
‘Joanna…’ he said uncertainly. Something in her blazing temper had got through to him.
‘You really thought that I-?’
‘I don’t know what I was supposed to think.’
‘Well, actually, you weren’t supposed to think anything, because whose room you see me coming out of is none of your damned business. And that is especially true when you jump to insulting conclusions like some demented jack-in-the-box.’
‘I did not mean to insult you-’
‘Oh, really. Then would you like to give me a blow-by-blow account of exactly what you thought I was up to in there?’
‘No, I wouldn’t,’ he said furiously, going slightly red.
‘But you’ve got a really brilliant picture inside your head, haven’t you? I doubt it bears any relation to the reality.’
‘As you have said, it’s none of my business. Now, if you don’t mind-’
‘But I do mind. You don’t just make accusations and walk off-’
‘I have not made any accusation-’
‘Haven’t you? Then what was that remark about early departures? Does that come from experience? How early are your departures, Gustavo?’
‘I see no need to discuss it.’
‘I’ll bet you don’t. But of course, if she has an apartment in Rome you don’t need to leave early, do you? Or does she have nosy neighbours? Do you hide your face as you leave?’
‘What the devil are you talking about?’ he snapped.
‘I’ll tell you what I…’
But it was no use. She couldn’t keep it up. Amusement was stronger than anger, and the next moment the laughter welled up in her, bursting out so strongly that she had to clutch the wall.
‘Joanna-’
‘What an idiot you are!’ she choked. ‘But I suppose I’m an idiot as well. Just forget it.’
‘Forget it? You make your opinion of me very clear and I’m supposed to forget it?’
‘Well, you made your opinion of me very clear, but I forgive you.’ Another gale of laughter swept over her. ‘Oh, heavens, I shall die of this.’
His brow cleared a little at the implications of her amusement. His heart was beating as he had seldom felt it before. Not for twelve years, in fact.
He longed to ask her to tell him how wrong he was, but for the life of him he couldn’t have got the words out.
Then, from behind the door, he heard a sound that seemed to restore him to life. A burst of female laughter. The next moment the door was flung open and Etta appeared. Over her shoulder he could see at least three other women in the room.
‘Joanna, thank goodness you’re still here. I’d like you to- Oh, hello.’ She’d just seen Gustavo, and pulled the edges of her dressing gown together.
‘Joanna’s helping us out,’ she explained. ‘She’s going to be my matron of honour instead of Gina, who has flu. Have you managed to explain to him yet, Jo?’
‘I haven’t had the chance,’ Joanna said through quivering lips. ‘Gustavo, I was going to find you and say there’s been a change of plan. I’ll be on duty with the bride.’
‘Thank you for telling me,’ he said stiffly.
Etta’s eyes were like saucers as she looked from one to the other then made a tactful withdrawal.
Gustavo’s face was tense and embarrassed, reminding Joanna of just how miserably uptight he could be, and how he, more than anyone, suffered for it. He was the last man in the world who could cope with this situation.
‘How could you?’ she said, amused and reproachful together.
‘I apologise for-for-’
‘Oh, shut up!’ she said tenderly. ‘I’ll see you in the church.’
With one hand she touched his face while her lips just brushed against his other cheek. Then she slipped away without looking back.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE wedding was held in the great church in the nearby town of Rannley Hayes. From ten o’clock a stream of cars began to leave the towers, and Joanna’s sense of life playing back increased.
The last time she’d been to a wedding here she’d watched those same cars driving away, knowing that soon one of them would hold Crystal, glorious in bridal white, on her way to become Gustavo’s wife.
She couldn’t recall the weather then, but today the sun shone down with a glorious light as she got out of the car with Etta, helped to straighten her dress, then handed her the bouquet.
Then it was time to enter the church, where, since Etta’s father was dead, Lord Rannley was waiting to give the bride away. The organ struck up the wedding march and they began the long walk down the aisle.
As matron of honour she led the attendants, walking down the aisle just behind the bride. Now and then she glanced to her right, trying to see where Gustavo was sitting, but there was no sign of him until the last minute.
There he was, near the front, in the second row, at the end of the pew, close to her. He turned as she approached, and Joanna was startled by what she saw in his face.
He looked stupefied, like a man who’d been struck by a thunderbolt, trying to gather his senses and failing.
She knew that for him too this moment brought back memories. Twelve years ago he’d stood in almost this spot and watched his bride approach. Now his eyes were fixed on herself, and she thought she detected a question in them.
But she couldn’t spare the time to wonder now what that question might mean. Etta had come to a halt, and she must take her bouquet of white roses, then step back into her position while the groom moved into place, and the service began.
Gustavo heard the words, the same ones that had been intoned over himself and Crystal. They seemed to come from a great distance.
He was only aware of Joanna, standing close to him, glorious in ivory satin and lace, her head adorned by the elegant organdie hat with its tiny pink rosebuds.
She looked like a bride herself, he thought. And so she would have been but for his blind stupidity. He’d been happy that day, but how soon that happiness had faded in the face of reality!
Was she too remembering, and wondering about how different things might have been?
He kept his eyes fixed on her, willing her to look at him, but she seemed lost in some inner dream. He longed to be able to follow her there, to beg her to share her thoughts with him, and perhaps also her feelings.
Too late. Much too late.
Dumbstruck by the terrible moment of illumination that had come to him, he listened to the vows of fidelity, remembering how they had come to sound like a cruel joke. As they would not have done with Joanna.
