Marrying Money: Lady Diana's Story by Glenys O'Connell Page B

burger, and myself a strong coffee and pushed away the wine I'd been gulping down. By the end of our luncheon, Joshua finally stopped looking at me like I was a two headed monster who ate little kids for lunch, and Adam was treating me like his best friend again.
    “Isn’t my Mummy beautiful?” he muttered to Josh who was carrying him back to our room.
    “Well , the kid's got one thing right, Diana. You are beautiful.” Josh whispered in my ear after he'd tucked a tired Adam up in the double bed for a nap.
    “Why , thank you, kind sir. I appreciate that,” I said with a smile. We stood there, smiling at each other, like two teenagers not knowing what came next.
    “But I'm not as beautiful as Sally, am I?”   I couldn’t believe I was doing this.
    He had the good grace to say nothing, but his smile was dimmed by sadness.
    “Are your folks on your back to find the right kind of wife?” I could see from the way his ears turned red under that sexy blond mop of hair that I was right. “You know, sometimes we have to give up a lot in order to be who our families want us to be. There's a saying, I forget who said it, To whom much is given, much is expected.”
    “Diana , I….” he raised his hand to my arm, then let it fall back.
    “Look , I saw you and Sally in the conservatory last night, and I've seen how the two of you look at each other, and how you avoided looking at each other today. Even we upper crusts deserve a shot at happiness; if Sally is your chance, go for it.”
    He looked at me for a, long time . His green eyes seemed to look into my soul.
    “You are one special woman, Diana. I'll always remember this.”
    “Yeah , well, remember this too, Sally's my best friend and if you hurt her, Alexandria House is well-stocked with hunting implements.”
    “Gotcha .” He leaned forward and kissed me, chastely, on the lips. Then he was gone, no doubt in pursuit of Sally.
    I rubbed the spot he'd kissed. No spark.
    Well, that was a relief.
     

     
    I lay down on the bed beside Adam, and fell into a deep sleep. I woke when Sally came home, very late, and I had to suppress the jealous feelings that she'd spent a wild time with Bill, while Joshua wanted her too.
    “Hey , move your great arse over and let me get into bed. Eww, you've been drooling on the pillow!”
    “ Go ’way,” I complained, turning over and getting a nose full of sweaty little boy smell. Gross!
    “Don’t be a snotty cow, or I won’t tell you why Mairead doesn't think the Beautiful Bill is a good match for you.”
    I was awake now. And try as I might, I couldn't feign disinterest.
    Sally couldn’t manage to hide her delight, either. I had a sudden understanding why, in some ancient cultures, they killed the messenger. I pulled the thin blanket up to my chin and glared at her.
    “Well , it looks like he's a bit of an outcast, because his wife left him.”
    I grunted. I was pretty sure it would take more than a wandering wife to make a man an outcast, even in repressed Irish society.
    “But his wife left him for another woman! Apparently she's living with a blonde woman who lifts weights and is very socially unacceptable. Now everyone is saying that he's a closet homosexual, gay as a bird and has somehow contaminated his wife. She used to be such a good Catholic girl, and a star pupil at the Loretta, and it's all his fault for being an aberration.”
    I stared open mouthed at Sally. She might have been speaking in tongues for all the sense any of this made.
    “You can't be serious,” I finally said.
    “Sure . Well, no, I'm not serious about it 'cos I know that gay-ness isn't infectious, otherwise half of Ludlum Secondary School would be gay. Remember Arnold Atkinson? He was gay enough to infect the lot of us, no problem.”
    “I didn't mean that, don't be a gobshite, as they say in the Emerald Isle. I meant do you think he's gay?”
    “ Whoa, my dear, usually when a woman asks that question about a gorgeous example of the male