Magic (19 page)

“I wanted to see you for lunch today to tell you that I can't do this. I want to, I would love to. And I wish I'd met you eight years ago, before I met Jean-Philippe. But I'm married to him now. I have to try and do this. It may not work, but I have to do it right. Or I'll never forgive myself later. I can't do us behind his back, and look him in the eye when he comes home. If I want out, I have to tell him. But I don't know if I want out yet. I have to give it a chance.”

Charles was quiet for a long moment as he listened to her, and something told him he couldn't change her mind, and he was right. He was bitterly disappointed and pained by what she'd said. But he respected her loyalty and honesty. It was part of why he wanted her so much. In his eyes, she was the perfect wife and had just proven it to him. She played it straight, and was an honorable person.

“If I do this with you, you'll never trust me, and I'll never trust myself again, and everybody will get hurt. Do you want me to resign from consulting with your firm?” He thought about it for a minute and shook his head.

“No, I don't,” he said, looking her in the eye. “We need you too much. And so do I. I wish you'd give us a chance, Valerie. You know as well as I do, it's not going to work. You're going to suffer your way through it for a year or two, and then come to the same conclusion I believe now. He's a selfish man to have gone to Beijing without you. I would never do that to you. Why not give us a chance instead? We could be so happy together.” He was entirely sincere when he said it. More than he had ever been in his life. He was not playing with her, and she could tell.

“I'd love to try,” Valerie said sadly. “And if I were single, I would. I was sorely tempted to. But I married him for better or worse seven years ago, and I meant it. This is ‘worse' for now, but that's what I signed on for. We had seven years of ‘better.' Now I'll stick it out through ‘worse.' For as long as I can. I owe him that, and our kids. And it's not fair to ask you to wait. I may not know how this turns out for years.”

“I envy him,” Charles said, looking desperately unhappy. He kissed her when they left the restaurant, the way he had wanted to for two weeks. And after he left her, he walked along the street with his hands in his pockets and his head down, thinking about her, and the kind of woman she was, and he thought what a lucky man Jean-Philippe Dumas was. And Charles hated to be the loser in the piece. He never had been before. As he walked back to his office, his ego was as bruised as his heart.

Two days after Valerie had lunch with Charles de Beaumont, her editor-in-chief called her into the office, and she thought she was in trouble for a minute. But instead the editor had a project for her.

They were “doing” the April issue in China, and they wanted her to go to Shanghai and Beijing, to do a scouting mission and decide what to focus on, and which models and photographers to assign to it. They wanted it to be spectacular. The bad news, as far as
Vogue
was concerned, was that they wanted her to go the following week.

“I know it's short notice, but you'll be back in time for Christmas with your kids,” the editor-in-chief said apologetically. Valerie just sat there, smiling at her, thinking what it could mean. She had just let go of a man she cared about and thought she wanted to be with, and now she had a chance to spend time with the husband who had become a stranger to her in the past two months. It was almost like a sign. “Your husband lives in Beijing, doesn't he?”

“Yes, he does. He's only been there for two months, but he can give me some tips.” She was intrigued about going and seeing where he lived. It sounded like a very exciting trip to her, and consolation for just having done the right thing with Charles. She missed him.

She sent Charles an email when she left the editor's office, and told him she wouldn't be able to meet with him the following week to deliver her presentation. She was being sent to China by the magazine, but she would have the full presentation delivered to him before she left, and he could contact her to make any changes he needed while she was away. She wasn't going to let him down. He sent her a short response, thanking her for advising him, and being so diligent about her work. She was professional to the core, which he appreciated.

And then she texted Jean-Philippe and told him about the trip. He had been sitting in his apartment, depressed to be back, and thinking of her, wondering what he was doing there, when he had a wife and family he loved in Paris. He was ecstatic she was coming, and responded that he'd go to Shanghai with her.

Her trip to China was exactly what they both needed to try and reestablish the bond between them and save their marriage.

“When are you coming?” he asked, smiling, when he called her on Skype.

“Next week.” She was beaming at him, and so grateful she hadn't done anything foolish with Charles. He had been so appealing, but just as she had said to Charles, Jean-Philippe was her husband, for better or worse. And all she could hope now was that there would be better times ahead. Charles de Beaumont had almost swayed her, as dazzling as he was, but Jean-Philippe was the man she loved.

W
hen Benedetta boarded the flight from Rome to Delhi, she had no idea what to expect. She had taken the short hop from Milan to Rome early that morning and boarded the second plane shortly before noon. She had heard about the extreme poverty in India, the beggars and maimed children in the streets, conditions that would shock her, but she had always heard tales of the country's extraordinary beauty too, the light, the colors, the temples, the people, the fabrics, the jewels, the atmosphere and the magic of India. She had been reading a little about it, but she wanted Dharam to unveil its wonders to her. She was excited to have him show her as much as he could. The flight seemed endless as she thought about the places he had described and she wanted to see. They were going to use his plane to get to the various locations, which seemed ideal to her. It was such an easy, comfortable, luxurious way to travel.

They landed in Delhi after the eight-hour trip, at nearly midnight, and he was waiting for her as she came through customs, with two local policemen and an agent from the airlines escorting her. He had arranged for all of it to facilitate her arrival. She smiled broadly as soon as she saw him, and he kissed her immediately.

“I can't believe you're here.” He looked as excited as she was, and he couldn't wait to start the trip. He had set two weeks aside for her. It barely seemed like enough, the country was so huge.

The first thing she noticed were the women all around her in saris in a rainbow of colors, many of them wearing jeweled sandals and bangles on their arms. Some of them had red bindis on their foreheads. The men were in traditional dress of long tunics and loose pants. The effect was instantly exotic. In any European city, you couldn't be sure if you were in Paris or Cincinnati at the airport; in Delhi you were cast into another culture and universe immediately. There were foreigners in Western dress too. It all combined into a canvas of vibrant colors that fascinated Benedetta as they walked through the airport, and an employee of Dharam's appeared to take her bags. He had booked a suite for her at the Leela Palace Hotel in the city, and they drove there in his deep blue Bentley with his driver at the wheel. Dharam introduced the driver to Benedetta as Manjit, and they rolled through the Chanakyapuri diplomatic section on the way to the hotel.

Doormen, runners, porters came to relieve them of her bags when they got there, to send to her room as soon as she checked in. And Dharam accompanied her upstairs to make sure that she was satisfied with her suite as two managers and a concierge stood by. Dharam was a hero here, and a very important man, so they wanted to make sure his guest was pleased.

The suite was spectacular, with an enormous living room with a view of the gardens, and a bedroom that Benedetta said was the largest she'd ever seen in any hotel. There were champagne, strawberries, a basket of fruit, and a box of candy on the table, as well as little cakes, and the moment they had walked into the suite, a liveried butler offered to serve them champagne or tea. It was difficult to imagine going back to a Western hotel after this. There were armies of personnel scurrying everywhere to meet her every need.

They were planning to spend two days in Delhi, and Dharam stayed to talk to her for two hours, as the maids unpacked for her, and he left her reluctantly at three in the morning to get some rest.

When she woke up in the morning, the weather was perfect, and she put on gray slacks with a red cashmere sweater, and she had a short jacket with her in case it got chilly. She could hardly wait to start.

She was ready when Dharam appeared in her suite after she had breakfast, and he had gone to his office for an hour.

“All set?” he asked her, so pleased that she had come.

“I can't wait,” she said excitedly as they set out. It felt like a huge adventure to her, and Dharam looked happy. His driver and the Bentley were waiting for them downstairs.

The first things he took her to were the traditional monuments, Lal Qila and Purana and Humayun's Tomb. They got out and looked around. They strolled across the lawns and through the Lodi Gardens, and she could sense the peaceful atmosphere. From there they went to see Qutub Minar, the tallest brick minaret in the world. She was constantly aware of the contrasts in the city, the old and the new, the opulence, the poverty, the beggars clamoring as she'd been warned, the beautiful women in saris bustling along every street.

He took her to the Olive Bar and Kitchen for lunch, and afterward to the Crescent Mall to see some of the Indian clothes, which Benedetta found fascinating. And then they returned to the hotel, and had tea overlooking the gardens before she went back to her room to rest for a while before dinner.

“How is it so far?” he asked her. He was so proud of his country and his city, and it was obvious that she was loving it, and falling in love with his city too.

He left her at nearly seven to go home and change, and promised to be back at eight-thirty for dinner at the Smokehouse Room, which he had told her about when they were in Sardinia, and now he wanted to share it with her. It had a panoramic view of the Qutub Minar minaret, which they had seen that morning.

The restaurant was very impressive, and the dinner was exquisite. He ordered several dishes for her, and explained to her what they were, as a fleet of waiters served them the delicious food. She was amazed by how many waiters there were, and the service was excellent. She was already overwhelmed by India's magic and beauty and she had only been there for a day. It had lived up to every expectation she'd had so far, and this was only the beginning. She could already tell it would be an extraordinary trip. Dharam had seen to that and orchestrated everything perfectly for her.

After dinner, he kissed her again and left her in the living room of her suite. He still couldn't believe she was there. He kept thanking her for coming, while she thanked him for everything he'd arranged. He promised he'd be back in the morning, and urged her to get some sleep. He wanted her to have the energy to do everything he'd planned. There were so many sights to show her.

When he appeared the next morning, she was already dressed and ready, and had been up for hours. They left a short time after and explored the old part of Delhi. They had even more locations on their schedule for that day. They went to the Lotus Temple, Dilli Haat, and the National Museum, and at the end of the day, she went back to the hotel for a massage and a swim in the pool.

They had dinner at Le Cirque in her hotel that night. They wanted an early night, as they were starting at dawn the next day to begin their trip. She wanted to meet Dharam's children too, but his son was away playing polo and wouldn't be back before she left, and his daughter lived in Jaipur, which was one of the stops planned on their trip.

Their odyssey began in Khajuraho, where they visited dozens of temples through the day. There were gods, goddesses, warriors, and musicians depicted in the carvings, and Benedetta took dozens of photographs with the camera she'd brought. They had dinner at their hotel that night, and he walked her back to her suite before going to his own.

In the morning they flew to Agra to see the Taj Mahal, and nothing had prepared her for its staggering beauty. It was truly the most magnificent structure she'd ever seen, infinitely more so than the photographs she'd seen of it for years. They walked around and took pictures of the reflections and then checked into the Oberoi Amarvilas Hotel, which was an extraordinary Moorish- and Mogul-inspired palace right next to the Taj Mahal. There were beautiful terraces, fountains, pools, gardens, and lush flowers. And the rooms were spectacular with inlaid wood, marble floors, and heavy silk drapes, with the Taj Mahal visible from every room. Dharam had ordered her bath filled with rose petals when she returned to her room to relax after dinner. He had thought of everything.

And after a night in Agra, they went to Ranthambore National Park to stay at the Hotel Vanyavilas, in the luxury camp, and in each place, Dharam had a room or a suite next to hers. He wanted to be close to her to protect her if necessary, but mostly to enjoy her company. They hadn't stopped talking for days, since she'd arrived. He had so much to tell her about each location.

They went to Jaipur, where they visited the Jantar Mantar astronomical observation site, the Hawa Mahal, an eighteenth-century palace, the City Palace, and the Chandra Mahal Palace. Even more exciting for Benedetta, they had dinner with his daughter, Rama, at her palatial home. She introduced Benedetta to her three young children, who were adorable and impeccably behaved. Her husband was away playing polo with her brother, but she provided a feast for them that night, and then sat for hours afterward, chatting with Benedetta and her father. The two women hit it off perfectly, and Dharam looked proud and pleased.

They were staying at the fabulous Rajvilas Hotel, and had a drink there on the terrace after dinner. The hotel had thirty-two acres of spectacular gardens, and the scent of jasmine was everywhere.

“I'm sorry you didn't meet my son-in-law,” Dharam said with regret. “He's a charming young man. His family is one of the most important in India.” But so was Dharam, although he was a modest person. With all the wonders he was showing her, what impressed Benedetta the most was his constant kindness to her, his gentleness and grace.

Benedetta was sad to realize that the trip was already halfway over. It was moving past her with lightning speed, and she wanted it to last forever.

“I wish I could stop time so I could see more of everything, and engrave every detail on my mind.”

“You will anyway.” He smiled at her, and she agreed. How could she ever forget any of this? Each experience, each vision, each temple, each building was unforgettable and unique, and yet so typical of India. And each moment was special and tender as he shared the beauty of his country with her.

After they regretfully left Rama, they flew to Udaipur in his plane, and visited the City Palace, and the marketplace so she could see the fabrics there. She wound up taking samples of everything so she could reproduce some of the simpler styles and vibrant colors of their textiles that would have been impossible to describe at home.

Dharam had a terrible time getting her to leave the marketplace. She was so excited by everything she saw there. Benedetta wanted to explore it all and take as much as she could with her. She had stacks of fabrics when they left and an armload of bangles to bring home to friends as souvenirs of her trip.

The next day they explored the Eklingji and Nagda temple complexes, which were among the most beautiful they'd seen, and then went back to relax at the hotel. They had planned to spend the last few days of the trip taking it easy in Udaipur before going back to Delhi. Dharam wanted some quiet time with her, and they explored some little back streets and shops where she found more treasures. She was insatiable, she wanted to take every sound, every smell, every sight and memory home.

“So, Benedetta, are you pleased that you came to India?” he asked her on their last night there.

The trip was almost over, she was going home in two days, and they had crammed in a remarkable number of sights, cities, experiences, and historical visits, and the culture of his country enveloped them like a magic spell. She was totally enamored and enchanted by the trip he had planned for her, and grateful for the time they had spent together. She had not only gotten an extraordinary look at his country, but a better understanding of the man himself. When they had met in Italy and Paris, she hadn't fully captured his full depth and scope as a human being. He was steeped in the traditions of his culture, its gentleness and beauty, and seeing him with his daughter, how much he loved her and how proud he was of her, had shown Benedetta an additional side of him as well. And although it was impossible to compare them, it made her realize even more how much she had tolerated from Gregorio, how shallow he had been, how narcissistic and uncaring he was toward her. Dharam had a depth of soul and compassion that exceeded anything she had known in any man. She loved his traditions, the myths and stories and history he shared with her. His only goal for the past two weeks had been to make her happy and show her his country, life, and culture. And as they sat chatting that night about what they'd done and seen, he slipped a bracelet on her arm that she had admired when they visited the Gem Palace in Jaipur. It was a wide diamond bangle, set with the rough diamonds of India that had captivated her. Her eyes flew open wide when she saw it, she was stunned by the remarkable gift.

“Dharam, no!” It was far more than she felt she should accept from him, but she loved it and was thrilled to have it. She knew he would be deeply hurt if she refused it, and she leaned over to kiss him on the cheek to thank him. He looked enormously pleased that she loved it so much.

“I want you to have something to remember our trip by. I hope it will be the first of many visits here. This country still has many riches for us to explore. Next time we will travel more slowly, but I wanted you to see as many aspects of our life as possible on your first visit. A kind of overview. We will explore it in greater detail when you return.” And he wanted there to be a “next time,” many of them. He had made that much clear. Her eyes clouded for an instant, as she touched the beautiful bracelet and looked at him. She was still worried about the one thing that had concerned her since the beginning. Their lives were worlds apart.

“How would we do this?” she asked softly. “You live here. I live in Milan. And it's hard for either of us to get away.” It had taken careful planning, and a great deal of thought on his part. And he had kept his professional obligations at bay now for two weeks and would have to work harder than ever once she left, and so would she when she got back to Milan, to pay the piper for the time she'd been away. They both knew that was true, they had demanding careers, many employees who depended on them, and major jobs and responsibilities. She didn't see how it could work out, except as a romantic interlude from time to time, although she knew that he came to Europe often, and had considerable mobility with his own plane. But his life was here, and hers was 3,800 miles away in Italy. It saddened her to think about it.