I would, Blackie O’Neill.’
Now it was Blackie who began to shake his head, and he did so in wonderment, trying to absorb her words. For a few minutes he could not speak as old emotions took hold of him, surprising him with the strength of their impact.
At last he said, ‘It does me good to hear that, even so long afterwards.’ His voice took on a quavering treble, as he added, ‘Perhaps it’s just as well we didn’t marry, Emma. I’d have been left high and dry, not to mention brokenhearted, when Paul swept you off your feet again.’
‘How can you say such a thing! What kind of woman do you thing I am!’ she cried, her indignation flaring as she jerked herself up in the chair and glared at him with such unprecedented ferocity he flinched. ‘I would never have hurt you! I’ve always loved you, cared about your well being, and you know it. Apologize at once,’ she spluttered angrily, and added, as an afterthought, ‘or I’ll never speak to you again!’
He was so startled by her vehemence he was speechless for a few seconds. Slowly a shame-faced look crept on to his face. He said in a most tender and placating voice, ‘It’s sorry I am, Emma, I take back those words. I believe you. I don’t think you would have left me for Paul. And that’s not my ego talking. I know you … better than anyone does. No, you wouldn’t have betrayed me, you wouldn’t have given him the time of day if you’d been married to me. It’s not in you to be cruel to someone you love, and then there’s your morality and your loyalty and goodness and sense of responsibility. Those would have worked in my favour. Besides – ’ He gave her a boyish grin that brought his dimples out. ‘I would have made you happy.’
‘Yes, Blackie, I believe you would.’
This was said rapidly, and there was a sudden urgency in her manner as she leaned forward anxiously, needing to clarify the past, to make him understand the reasons which had motivated her and Paul, quite aside from their great love. ‘Don’t forget,’ she began, intent on jogging his memory. ‘My marriage to Arthur Ainsley was on the rocks long before Paul McGill returned to this country. I was on the verge of divorce when Paul showed up. Besides, and this is most important, Blackie, Paul wouldn’t have intruded, wouldn’t have sought me out, if I’d been happily married. It was only because Frank had told him I was miserable, and separated from Ainsley, that he arrived on my doorstep.’
She paused, settled back in the chair, and clasped her hands tightly in her lap. ‘I know I would not have seen hide nor hair of Paul ever again, if my life had been on an even keel. He told me that himself. He came searching for me because he was aware I was unhappy – and also available. He most certainly wouldn’t have done that if I’d been married to you. Have you forgotten how much he liked and respected you?’
‘No, I haven’t. And you’re correct in what you say … Yes, Paul was a fine and honourable man. I always had a lot of time for him.’
Blackie now rose.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘that’s all water under an old and decrepit bridge, my girl. There’s no point rehashing our troubles of half a century ago. And maybe it was meant to be …’ he lifted his hands and shoulders in a brief shrug ‘… exactly the way it is. But I would like you to have the ring. It’s always been yours, you know.’
He bent over her. She looked up at him, and then at the black leather box in his hands. He lifted the lid, turned the box to her.
Emma gasped.
The ring was exquisite, throwing off the most brilliant prisms of light, and sparkling with life and fire against the black velvet. The central diamond was round and multifaceted, and very large, at least twenty carats, and it was surrounded by smaller stones which were equally as lovely and superbly cut, and these formed a circle at the base of the mounting.
Even Emma, accustomed to magnificent jewellery, was awestruck and she found herself blinking, truly taken aback by its size and beauty. ‘It’s stunning, Blackie,’ she said a bit breathlessly. ‘One of the most beautiful rings I’ve ever seen.’
His joy at her words was evident. ‘It’s an old setting, of course, the original, and perhaps it’s even a bit outdated. But I didn’t want to have it reset. Here, slip it on, mavourneen.’
She shook her head. ‘No, you do it, my fine black Irishman.’ She offered him her left hand. ‘Put it on the third finger, next to my wedding ring.’
He did so.
Emma held out her small, strong hand, her head on one side, admiring the ring glittering so brightly in the fire’s glow. And then she glanced up at him, her expression unmistakably mischievous. ‘Are we finally engaged to be married then?’ she teased in a flirtatious voice, and offered him a smile that was decidedly coy.
Blackie laughed, with delight, hugely amused. He’d always enjoyed her sense of humour.
Bending closer to her, he kissed her cheek. ‘Let’s just say we’re engaged to be – to be the dearest and closest friends and companions for the rest of the time we have on this earth.’
‘Oh Blackie, that’s such a lovely thing to say, and thank you for my beautiful ring.’ She caught his hand and held on to it and pressed it tightly and looked up at him again, and then she smiled that incomparable smile that filled her face with radiance. ‘My dear old friend, you’re so very very special to me,’ she said.
‘As you are to me, my Emma.’
He stepped away from her chair as if heading to his own, and then he paused and swung his white head. ‘I hope you’re going to wear the ring,’ he remarked off-handedly but his glance remained riveted intently on hers. ‘I sincerely hope you’re not going to put it away in that safe of yours.’
‘Certainly not. How could you think such a thing. I’m never going to take it off … ever again.’
He touched her shoulder and returned to his seat, smiling to himself. ‘I’m glad I gave you your ring, me darlin’. I’ve thought about doing so many times, and I’ve often wondered what you’d say. I know I’m always accusing you of being a sentimentalist in your old age, but I do believe I’ve become a sentimental old man myself.’
‘And tell me, Blackie O’Neill, what’s wrong with sentiment? It’s a pity there isn’t more of it in this world,’ she said, her eyes unexpectedly moist. ‘It might be a better place to live in, for one thing.’
‘Aye,’ was all he said.
After a short while, Blackie cleared his throat, and remarked, ‘Now, what about that little proposition of mine, Emma? This morning you said you were doubtful that it would work, but I can’t agree.’
‘Do you know,’ she exclaimed brightly in an enthusiastic voice, ‘I was thinking about it again this afternoon. Emily’s moved in with me, and it suddenly struck me that the only way I’ll get a bit of peace and quiet is to accept your generous invitation.’
‘Then you’ll come with me! Ah, me darlin’, this news warms the cockles of me heart, sure an’ it does.’ He beamed at her, happiness and excitement welling inside him. He lifted his brandy balloon high. ‘Come along, take a sip of your Bonnie Prince Charlie, Emma. This calls for a toast, it does indeed.’
She held up her hand instead. ‘Wait a minute! I didn’t actually say yes. I can’t accept – at least not just yet. I am
