‘What does, then?’
‘Nothing.’
And therein lay a warning. This time, though, she was choosing not to heed it.
She didn’t believe him.
‘Let’s do this,’ he said, and they headed downstairs.
It was a supremely difficult evening.
Not for everybody else—after all Lindsey had seen to it that everything had been done to ensure that the celebration ran smoothly. The surroundings were sumptuous—the grand hall glittered, not just from the chandeliers but from the huge red pillar candles dotted around the room. The air was heavy with the scent of the deep red roses that were on each table, which, Katherine told anyone who listened, had been cultivated by their gardener just for this occasion. Yes, the caterers were fantastic, the band amazing; the whole kit and caboodle was brilliant.
‘Your father did a good job,’ Daniil commented, and then shook his head at a passing waiter as a drink was offered. Yes, everything was perfect—even Daniel Thomas, the wayward son, behaved beautifully and spoke with friends and family in a very schooled voice.
Didn’t they get, Libby thought, that when he had to think about what he was saying just to appease them, so much conversation was lost?
No, she realised, they just cared about appearances. It wasn’t Daniil that they wanted to know. He was merely a replacement for the Thomases’ dead son.
‘Daniel...’ Libby bristled as a glossy brunette came over. Terribly glossy from her gleaming hair right to her blushing cheeks. ‘It’s been a long time.’
‘Libby—’ Daniil gave a tight smile ‘—this is Charlotte Stephenson. We were at school together. Charlotte’s father was headmaster.’
‘Still is,’ Charlotte said, and then pointed across the hall. ‘He’s over there. You should go over and say hello.’
‘Since when have I done as I should?’ he replied.
Libby watched as Charlotte flounced off and she waited, waited for Daniil to explain, to tell her where Charlotte slotted in to his past, but, of course, he was supremely comfortable with silence, leaving Libby and her overactive imagination to fill in the gaps—of course, they’d been lovers.
Ah, and then they all paused for the wonderful speeches!
Libby’s throat was tight as Daniil walked to the front. There was no fumbling in his pocket for his speech or hiding behind notes. He would speak, seemingly off the cuff, but Libby was quite sure of the hours of practice that must have taken place for him to be able to deliver this speech with apparent ease.
She glanced over at Katherine, who stood, eyes bulging and with a sheen of sweat on her upper lip. Richard, too, was tense, taking a hefty belt of his drink and then steeling himself as if preparing for bad news.
Would it be?
She looked at Daniil and for a moment wondered if he was about to wreak revenge for close to two decades of wrongs.
He’d thought about it.
For the first time in his life Daniil had the family stage, unmanaged. He looked at his parents and saw the tense warning in their eyes. He looked at his cousin George and his slight expectant smile, because wouldn’t venting his spleen serve George’s purpose well?
There was no need for the truth, though, Daniil thought, for there was no one here that he cared enough to explain it to.
And then his eyes met Libby’s and possibly he would amend that thought soon.
For now he accepted her tight smile and the look that told him that whatever he chose to say was fine by her.
There was a slight heady relief that came when somebody accepted you, Daniil thought.
Whatever he might choose to do.
First, in perfect, clipped English, he thanked all the guests for coming, particularly those who had travelled from afar, and then he addressed his parents.
‘Of course, the people who I really want to thank are the reason we are all here tonight.’
Libby heard the happy sigh trickle through the room and watched as both Katherine and Richard visibly relaxed. A smatter of applause paused Daniil’s speech and she felt ashamed of herself, furious that she might have played any part in procuring this hell for him.
He went through his parents’ marriage and spoke of their achievements, which were plenty, and the charities they supported, and then she watched Katherine’s shoulders stiffen as Daniil brought the white elephant up to the front of the room.
‘As you will all know, twenty years ago my parents suffered the devastating loss of their only child. For two years they were bereft but then, being the generous people that they are, they came to realise that they still had so much love to give.’