Like the old times—like the old times, she chanted silently.
Her mother arrived at Leandros’s other side, thankfully drawing some of the attention her way. Silvia, too, stopped to stare in surprise at what was taking place. ‘Are we the star turn, Leandros?’ she asked him. She wasn’t a fool; her mother knew exactly what was going on here.
One of his hands went to cover one of Silvia’s hands where it gripped the walking frame, the other arrived at Isobel’s waist. Then he lifted his dark head to eye the room as a whole, and with a few economical movements he silenced whispers.
It came as a small shock to Isobel to see how much command he seemed to have over such an illustrious assembly. He had not warranted this much respect the last time she’d been here. Their three years apart had given him something extra she could only describe as presence. She had noticed it before in other ways but had not suspected that he could silence tongues with a single lift of his chiselled chin.
People went back to whatever they had been doing before they’d arrived to interrupt. Without uttering a word Leandros guided them towards a low sofa set against the nearest wall to them and quietly invited Silvia to sit. She shook her head. Like mother like daughter, Isobel mused ruefully. Neither of them was going to allow themselves to shrink here.
A waiter appeared to offer them tall flutes of champagne. Beginning to feel just a little bit nauseous, she allowed herself a tiny sip. ‘OK?’ Leandros murmured huskily.
‘Yes,’ she replied but they both knew she wasn’t.
‘I apologise for my earlier remark.’ It was an acknowledgement that the chip-on-the-shoulder taunt had not been fair. ‘I think I should have anticipated this. But, in truth, I did not expect them to be so…’
Rude, she finished for him. And—yes, he should have expected it. But this was no time to jump into a row with him. That would come later, she promised herself.
‘Isobel!’ The call of her name brought her head up and the first genuine smile to widen her mouth. A diversion was coming in the shape of Eve Herakleides, who was bearing down upon them with her daunting giant of a grandfather and another man Isobel presumed must be Eve’s new husband.
‘Oh, this is just too good to be true!’ Eve exclaimed as she arrived in front of them. Suddenly and intentionally, Isobel was sure, friendly, warm faces were surrounding them.
She and Eve shared kisses. Leandros was greeting Eve’s grandfather—his uncle Theron—and introducing Theron to Silvia. Then Eve drew her husband forward and proudly presented him as her gorgeous Englishman. Ethan Hayes grimaced at being described in this way, but his eyes were smiling and his hand made its possessive declaration where it rested on Eve’s slender waist.
Tensions began to ease as shifted they positions to complete introductions all round. Isobel found herself confronted by the great Theron Herakleides, who looked nothing like Leandros’s mother. But then, they ha
d been born several decades apart to different mothers. ‘I am very happy to see you here,’ he announced quite gravely, and bent to make the traditional two-kiss greeting.
Someone else arrived within their select little circle. It was Leandros’s beautiful sister, Chloe, wearing an exquisite long and slinky gown of toreador red that set off her tall, dark, slender beauty to perfection. Her actions were stilted, the greeting she offered Isobel filled with the same awkward coolness as her mother’s had been. Chloe was the youngest of the three Petronades children. All her life she had been adored and doted on by all the Petronades males, which in turn had made her spoiled and selfish, and she resented anyone who threatened to steal some of that adoration away from her.
She’d seen Isobel as one of those people. It still remained to be seen if Nikos’s lovely Carlotta was going to be treated to the same petulant contempt. But, for now, Isobel was prepared to be polite and friendly—just in case Chloe had changed her attitude in the last three years.
Leandros saw his sister differently. Spoiled and selfish though she undoubtedly had been three years ago, she had gone through a very tough time after their father died. She’d worshipped him above all others, and losing him had left a huge gap in her heart that she’d looked to him and Nikos to fill. When he’d married Isobel, Chloe had taken this as yet another devastating loss and had fiercely resented Isobel for being the cause.
Chloe had changed over the last three years though. Grown up, he supposed, and was less of a spoiled little cat. Though he understood that Isobel didn’t know that—which was why he felt her fingers searching for the secure comfort of his hand as Chloe levelled her dark eyes upon her and said, ‘Welcome home, Isobel,’ then concluded the greeting with a kiss to both of Isobel’s cheeks with a very petulant mouth.
He was about to offer a wry smile at this bit of petulance, when something else happened to wipe out all hint of humour. As she drew away Chloe’s gaze flickered down to the jewels flashing at Isobel’s throat and a faint flush was suddenly staining her elegant cheekbones as she looked away in clear discomfort.
He had his culprit, he realised grimly.
The ever-sharp Eve also noticed Chloe’s fleeting glance at Isobel’s throat—and her ensuing discomfort. The little minx made a play of checking out Isobel’s necklace. ‘Oh, how lovely,’ she declared. ‘Are they old or are they new?’
‘Most definitely new,’ Leandros answered smoothly. ‘I had them specially commissioned for Isobel just after we were married,’ he explained. ‘As far as I recall Isobel has only worn them once before—isn’t that so, agape mou?’
‘I…Yes.’ He watched her fingers jerk up to touch the necklace. She was trying to hide her shock at what he had said, while his sister had turned to a block of stone.
‘We like to call them the family heirlooms.’ Oh, cruelty be mine, he thought with grim satisfaction as he soothed Isobel with the gentle squeeze of her hand and smiled glassily into his sister’s unblinking eyes. Chloe realized that he now knew the kind of unkind rubbish she had fed to his wife. She also now realized that she was in deep trouble the next time he got her alone. He was looking forward to it, Chloe certainly wasn’t.
The buffet dinner was announced. Maybe it was fortunate because it gave his darling sister the excuse to melt away. People shifted positions as the slow mass exodus to the adjoining room began. Eve strolled away with her husband. Theron was gallantly offering to escort Isobel’s mother. They went off together, Theron matching his long strides to Silvia’s smaller steps while talking away to her with an easy charm.
Which left them alone again. ‘I think Theron has taken to your mother,’ he observed lightly.
‘Just don’t speak,’ his wife told him stiffly. ‘I’m too angry to listen to you.’
He looked down into glinting eyes. ‘Why, what have I done?’ he asked innocently.
‘You don’t have to do anything to be a horrible person,’ she answered. ‘It must be in the genes.’
‘Then you understand why my sister is the way that she is,’ he countered smoothly, and when she went to stalk away from him he stopped her by tightening his grip on her hand. ‘We do not run away any more, agape mou,’ he reminded her.