Trapped By Vialli's Vows. Chantelle ShawЧитать онлайн книгу.
pulled her mind back to the present as a waiter brought round a tray of sparkling wine to toast the newlyweds.
‘Don’t you want a glass of bubbly?’ asked her uncle, Brian, when she opted for fruit juice.
‘Juice is more refreshing in this heat. I seem to have gone off alcohol at the moment.’
‘You haven’t gone off cheese,’ her uncle noted, looking at the pile of cheese and crackers on her plate. ‘You’re not pregnant, are you?’ he teased. ‘I remember Susan ate pounds of cheddar when she was expecting Gemma.’
‘Brian!’ Aunt Susan glared at her husband.
Marnie nibbled on a cheese straw. Thankfully an unplanned pregnancy was something she did not have to worry about. After years of suffering from debilitating menstrual migraines her doctor had prescribed her a type of continuous contraceptive pill which prevented her from having periods and had ended her excruciating monthly headaches.
The wedding buffet was followed by a disco in the evening, before Gemma and her new husband, Andrew, left for their honeymoon, and the guests cheered as the newlyweds drove off, trailing tin cans that someone had attached to the car’s exhaust pipe.
It had been a happy family occasion, Marnie mused the following afternoon, when she boarded a train back to London. The kind of wedding she would like if she ever got married—although none of her immediate family would be at her wedding because her mother and one of her brothers were dead, and she had lost contact with her father and her other brother.
Besides which, Leandro never spoke of the future, and the subject of marriage had never been mentioned. Was it wrong of her to want to have some indication of where their relationship was heading?
She finished reading the magazine she’d bought for the train journey and picked up a newspaper that had been left on another seat. The tabloid was full of celebrity gossip, and Marnie’s heart gave a sickening lurch when she flicked through the pages and saw a photo of Leandro and a stunning brunette.
She recognised the woman as Stephanie Sedoyene, a famous French model who was the current ‘face’ of an exclusive perfume brand. The paparazzi on both sides of the Channel stalked Miss Sedoyene relentlessly—which probably explained why she and Leandro did not look happy in the picture of them emerging from a restaurant in Paris.
Was this the Stephanie who had left a message on Leandro’s phone before he had rushed off to Paris to visit an injured friend? Marnie chewed her lip. Had the story about his friend being in hospital been a cover for his dinner date with this beautiful model? In the photo, Leandro had an arm around Stephanie’s shoulders, and something about their body language suggested they were comfortable with each other, as if they were old friends—or lovers.
Marnie ordered herself not to jump to conclusions. She would not listen to the voice in her head which taunted her, saying that Leandro was bound to find the beautiful model more attractive than a nothing-special, veering-towards-chubby waitress. But suspicion slid with the deadly menace of a poisonous snake into her mind. Maybe Leandro’s regular monthly trips to Paris were so that he could visit Stephanie Sedoyene.
She closed her eyes as she was bombarded with memories from her childhood, and she heard her mother’s shrill voice accusing her father. ‘Who is your tart, Ray? Don’t take me for a fool. I followed you when you said you were going to the pub on Friday night and I saw you and your blonde bitch going into a hotel together.’
The idea of questioning Leandro about why a photo of him with another woman was in the newspapers was too humiliating to contemplate. She couldn’t bear to sound possessive and obsessive like her mother had been. She quickly folded up the paper and put it back on the empty seat where she had found it.
But for the rest of the journey to London she could not erase the photo of Leandro and his beautiful companion from her mind, and she was deep in thought as she walked back to Eaton Square from the station.
‘Marnie?’
The voice was familiar, but it was a voice from the past that she’d wondered if she would ever hear again. She spun round and saw a man walking along the pavement towards her. For a few seconds she thought she was seeing a ghost.
‘Luke?’ She swallowed. Of course it wasn’t Luke. ‘Jake! I haven’t seen you for so long.’
Although it was five years since the accident, grief was still etched on Jake’s thin face and he looked much older than when Marnie had last seen him.
‘Where have you been for the past five years?’ she said softly.
‘I wish it was Luke here instead of me. As for where I’ve been...’ Jake shrugged. ‘Here and there, but mostly in hell.’ He glanced up at the elegant townhouse. ‘You seem to have done all right for yourself.’
‘It’s not my house. I live here with a...a friend.’
Marnie flushed, but her brother shrugged.
‘Hey, your life is your business, and as long as you’re happy that’s all that matters.’
‘I am happy,’ Marnie said truthfully. ‘Leandro is a great guy. I wish you could meet him, but he’s away at the moment. How did you know where to find me?’
‘I went back to the Silden Estate and found it had been demolished, but I remembered you had a job at a cocktail bar on the King’s Road so I went there. One of the waitresses gave me your phone number and address. I don’t have a phone, since mine broke, so I came to find you.’
Jake grimaced.
‘I’m sorry I haven’t been around, but... Well, the truth is that I spent some time in prison after I was charged with theft. I broke into houses and sold the items I stole to buy drugs. I was in a bad place in my head after Luke died—but that’s not an excuse and I’m not proud of what I did.’
‘Oh, Jake.’ Marnie reached out and grasped her brother’s hand. ‘I wish I’d been able to help.’
‘In a funny way going to prison helped me, because it was hell and I never want to go back inside. I’m sorting my life out and I no longer take drugs. Tomorrow I’m catching a train up to Scotland. I’ve been offered a job as a groundsman on a country estate near Loch Lomond, and I appreciate it that the owner, Lord Tannock, is giving me a chance.’
Jake looked down at Marnie’s fingers, entwined with his.
‘I never forgot about my little sister and I wanted to find you and make sure that you’re all right.’
The lump in her throat prevented Marnie from speaking, and instead she flung her arms around her brother’s neck and hugged him. ‘I’m so glad to see you. Do you have a place to stay before you leave for Scotland?’
Jake shook his head. ‘I spent all the money I had on a train ticket, but it’s a warm night and it won’t be the first time I’ve slept on a park bench.’
‘You must stay here tonight.’ It occurred to Marnie that she had never mentioned to Leandro that she had a brother, but she was sure he would not want Jake to spend the night on the streets. She called his number, wanting to check that it was okay for Jake to stay, but his phone was switched off—as it had been when she had tried to call him earlier. ‘I’ll try Leandro again later,’ she told Jake as she led him into the house.
Jake whistled as he took in the Italian white marble floor tiles in the hallway and glanced up at the magnificent crystal chandelier. ‘Wow, your boyfriend must be loaded. No wonder you’re happy with him.’
‘I love Leandro, and I’d love him just as much if he wasn’t wealthy.’
Marnie’s heart contracted as she acknowledged the depth of her feelings for Leandro. Admitting that she was in love with him made her feel vulnerable, because she had no idea how he felt about her.
She glanced at Jake and thought how difficult his life must have been since Luke had died. Grief was so hard to deal with. She had