gave it to me. She said her time for wearing it was over, but yours had just begun. It’s her way of welcoming you into the family, but also—I don’t know how to put it—’
‘She gave it to you, not Charlie. That’s her way of opening her heart to you again, saying you’re her son?’
‘Yes. It’s taken so long. I thought I was resigned, but I wasn’t. After all these years it has brought me more joy than I can say, and that’s another thing I owe to you. You brought us together and helped us understand each other. I could never give this ring to anyone but you, and you must promise me to wear it all your life.’
‘I’ll wear it as long as you want me to wear it.’
‘All your life,’ he repeated.
A vendor glided past them, waving a sprig of mistletoe. ‘Go on, buy it,’ he begged. ‘Then I can go home.’
Roscoe grabbed the first note he came to and proffered it without looking to see how large it was. The vendor’s eyes opened wide and he vanished quickly.
Slowly, Roscoe raised the mistletoe over her head.
‘Do you remember what you said to that fool who let you slip through his fingers? ‘ he asked.
‘“This is where you’re supposed to kiss me”,’ she recalled.
‘Very willingly,’ he said, lowering his mouth to hers for the first kiss of their engagement.
She kissed him back fervently, trying to tell him that she was entirely his, despite her fears. With his help she would conquer them and be everything he wanted. Nothing else mattered in her life.
Afterwards they hugged each other. Later there would be passion, but just now what mattered was the warmth and comfort they could bring each other. As her spirit soared she even managed a tiny laugh.
‘What is it?’ he asked, lifting her chin and gazing searchingly into her face.
‘That was a twenty pound note you gave him.’
‘If it had been a million pounds it wouldn’t have begun to be enough for what I’ve won tonight.’
As they finally walked away, arms entwined, she murmured, ‘New day, new hope, new life. All the best things to wish for.’
‘I don’t have to wish for them,’ Roscoe said. ‘You have given them to me already, and they will last for ever.’
They set the wedding date for soon after Christmas. It would take place in the church belonging to the graveyard where they had first met, where Pippa’s family lay in the grounds. The day before, they paid a visit together and went to look at the graves of Mark and Dee. Roscoe brushed the snow away, revealing the faces beneath, not just happy, but with a contentment that spoke of many years of successful marriage.
‘I’m glad they’ll be at our wedding,’ she said.
‘They’ll always be part of our lives,’ he agreed. ‘Because without them we’d never have met. Do you think your grandmother likes me?’
‘Oh, yes, I can tell from the way she’s looking at you.’
‘So can I.’
When she went to visit the other family graves he stayed behind to talk to Dee.
‘You’ve been such an influence in her life—and mine—that I want to know you better. Without you, she wouldn’t be who she is, and I wouldn’t be the happy man that I am. Thank you with all my heart.’
He stepped back.
‘I’ll see you both at the wedding tomorrow. I hope you enjoy it.’
He walked away to find the woman he adored more than life, and even now he had the sense that two pairs of eyes were following him. He smiled, happy in the knowledge, and resolved to tell Pippa all about it.
HIS DIAMOND BRIDE
BY
LUCY GORDON
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All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
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First published in Great Britain 2011 Harlequin MIIIS & Boon Limited, Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
© Lucy Gordon 2011
ISBN: 978 0 263 88852 2
23-0111
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Printed and bound in Spain by Litografia ROSéS S.A., Barcelona
Dear Reader,
Given the way my last heroine, Pippa, was influenced by Dee, her grandmother, there was no way I could write Pippa’s story without also writing Dee’s. She came from another age, when men and women saw each other in more traditional roles and the obstacles to love were different—one of which was the turmoil caused by war.
Unlike Pippa, Dee was not spectacularly beautiful. Pleasant, but unremarkable, she chose a useful life as a nurse. The beauty of the family was her sister Sylvia and, when she brought home the handsome Mark Sellon, Dee was content to admire him from a distance.
Then the Second World War broke out and he became a pilot, flying daring missions and being hailed as a hero. TO Dee, this glamorous
