by Margaret Way
She jumped up, a small fury, blazingly blue eyes smarting with her own lie. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“I think you do.”
“And you’ve decided to put me in my place?” she asked raggedly.
“That wasn’t my aim.” He stood up quiet, but commanding. “What I’m saying is I’ve decided to remain in my place.”
“You have a hide!” Her voice trembled. He towered over her with those long legs but for once she didn’t find it comforting.
“I’m sorry. You must understand.”
“Well I don’t!” Her vision was blurring with tears. She felt sick to the stomach; ashamed, humiliated. Furiously she blinked the tears away.
Daniel felt his heartbeats thudding like hammers. He was trying so hard to do the right thing. Did she know how much discipline that took? She couldn’t, because it was her tears that tore at him and pushed him over the edge.
One moment he was standing stalwart, battling to suppress the emotions that were devouring him, the next he had hauled her headlong into his arms, his blood glittering, passion gripping him like a vise.
He took her mouth hungrily, his arms imprisoning rather than enfolding her. He was smothering her, he thought desperately, perhaps bruising her for days to come but he couldn’t seem to loosen his hold much less let her go. Here was beauty, softness, sweetness he had never known. The perfect prize he could never win. His hands began to range over her body, down her back…smoothing, caressing. He had to stay them but his burning desire to know her body was driving him on.
A kiss, one kiss was never enough, but so precious because he might never get to kiss her again. He could feel his groin flood with blood, feeding a need so powerful it scared him. What might it feel like to surrender to such desire? To let the force of his passion for her sweep him away?
Her little moans fell audibly on his ears…little expiring breaths. He took it as she was begging him to release her. She had placed her hands upon his chest, powerless to push him away.
Immediately Daniel came to himself, afraid of his own strength.
“Sandra, I’m sorry. And in such a place!” With near superhuman control he drew back, setting her free. “Now you know me for what I am. A man like any other.”
She shook her head, quite unable to speak. She was stunned by what had passed between them. It had far exceeded even her imagining. When she spoke, her voice was a husky murmur. “I provoked you, Daniel.” She brought up her blue-violet eyes.
“I tried to warn you of what might happen.” His body was throbbing painfully with denial.
“Do you fear it?”
“I wouldn’t do anything in this world to hurt you,” he said, his expression strained.
“I know that. But you’re so high minded you won’t let yourself be attracted to me, will you, Daniel?”
“I can’t be. You know that.” Daniel tried to rein in a sudden impotent anger, a railing against the world.
She threw out her arm. “So all this bothers you? Moondai, my money?”
“It’s a pretty dazzling legacy, Sandra,” he rasped. “You’d have to be one of the richest young women in the country.”
“So my inheritance stands between us?” She too was struggling for composure.
“I’m not the man who can ignore it, Sandra. You’re so young. There’s much for you to see and do. You’ll meet plenty of guys. Guys with fine respectable backgrounds. The right man you can trust to stand alongside you, with the strength to help you keep Moondai for yourself and your heirs. You only have to give yourself time.”
“And you’re not respectable, Daniel?” She gave a laugh of sorts.
He sighed deeply. “Of course I am as far as it goes. If you were an ordinary girl…”
“You’d do what?” Sandra challenged, raising her arched brows.
“Let’s face it. You’re not!”
“What if I gave my fortune away?”
“That is totally out of the question,” he said with a fierce frown. “Your grandfather gave you the responsibility of holding on to Moondai. He knew you better than you know yourself, because you do want it, don’t you?”
“I don’t want it if it means losing you, Daniel,” she said. There, for good or bad, she had come out with the simple truth. Daniel had invested her life with real meaning.
For an instant Daniel was seized by a feeling of joy that carried him right up high. Up, up into the wild blue yonder. Then he fell heavily to earth again with a pronounced thud. All he could do was ram his hands into his jeans pockets lest he reach for her again. “I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he said as though he took shame in his own weakness.
“I know,” she agreed wryly, “because now I’m absolutely sure.”
He raised a hand as if to refute it. “You’re not sure of anything, Sandra. God almighty, you’re not even twenty-one. Maybe any guy could have kissed you.”
She breathed a great sigh of frustration. “I’m going to forget you said that, Daniel. I might still be a virgin—and that’s a little secret between the two of us—but let me tell you I’ve been kissed plenty of times. The earth didn’t move. It moved a few minutes ago.”
It was more like an earthquake for him, but he wasn’t at liberty to tell her. He was trying to guide her, not take advantage of her. “All the more reason to slow down, Sandra,” he advised. “You need to give yourself time.”
When I know right now.
A wry little smile formed on Sandra’s mouth. She turned away from him. “You’re not going to leave me until your year is up?”
“I’m bound over not to,” he replied. “I wouldn’t in any case until you felt you were ready. I want the best for you, Sandra.”
“But you’d think about it if Joel Moreland made you some kind of offer?” She swung back to face him.
“I don’t know why he wants to meet me, Sandra.”
“Come off it,” she said shortly. “You don’t have to be too modest. Obviously he’s heard good things about you. Every visitor who comes here has nothing but good things to say about you. You turned Harry Cunningham’s station around. Grandad who was as tough as they come held you in high regard. You’re not a nobody, Daniel.”
“I’m not a fortune hunter, either,” he said bluntly.
“Ah, the root of the problem!” She sighed. “You think if you and I grew closer people would think you were?”
He gave her a straight look. “Of course they would.”
“No need to sound so outraged.” She feigned nonchalance, deciding the smart thing to do was to cloak her emotions from now on in instead of emblazoning them on her sleeve. “All right, Daniel. I can see the wisdom of what you’re saying. I’m going to take your advice. I’m going to give myself plenty of time to meet lots of eligible guys. Establishment families of course, stuffy old money, reeking arrogance like Berne. The right blood lines are important apparently. No others need apply. And I would like to go along for the ride to Darwin. You can introduce me to Joel Moreland while you’re at it. Okay?”
His eyes distant he leaned forward and picked up his akubra shoving it on his head as though he had a dozen pressing reasons to be on his way. “Whatever you say, Ms Kingston.”
It was a major shock for Daniel to meet Joel Moreland. For one thing Moreland seemed familiar which Daniel didn’t think had all that much to do with the fact Moreland regularly got his picture in the papers. It was more a real frisson as though he’d met up with someone he’d known in another lifetime. Moreland too seemed overtaken by the same force. He put out his hand with a charming smile, but his eyes behind his dark framed glasses had an intensity far beyond mere interest. “I thought we should meet, Daniel.”
“Good to meet you, sir.” Daniel shook the outstretched hand, responding to the warmth and firmness of Moreland’s grip.
“Let’s go straight into the dining room shall we?” Bill Morrissey suggested, himself looking faintly puzzled.
What was this really all about, Daniel wonder
ed, aware Moreland kept looking at him as they walked to their table. Joel Moreland was a splendid looking man. In his early seventies he was even more impressive in the flesh than in his photographs. Over six feet tall, he had a full head of silver hair and classic features that looked eminently trustworthy. His accent was cultured. He dressed with casual elegance. He looked what he was, a dignified man of real consequence.
Although his interests were huge Daniel was soon to discover Moreland had no hint of elitism or arrogance about him. It wasn’t his reputation in any case. He put Daniel in mind of a wise elder statesman, even a revered grandfather, kindly and genial but Daniel couldn’t fail to miss the high level of concentration that was being levelled at him. What was it all about? He wasn’t a candidate for high political office with Moreland the backer.
Lunch, however, started out well and continued in that vein. Moreland and Morrissey were friends over many years, each comfortable in the other’s company. The conversation ranged over a wide number of topics: became focused on the areas of importance to the Northern Territory, its economy and its future. Moondai worked its way into the discussion; Alexandra Kingston’s unexpected inheritance over her uncle and cousin, Daniel’s position as her overseer.
“She doesn’t want to sell then?” Moreland asked, his eyes keen.
“Why, sir, are you interested?” Daniel met the inquiry head on.
Moreland smiled. “As a matter of fact, Daniel, I’m delighted to hear Ms Kingston wants to hold on to her heritage. I knew her grandfather of course and the whole sorry business. It was a tragedy about Trevor. He and my own son were actually friends. Both gone now leaving their families bereft. Rigby changed a great deal after he lost Trevor. He became very bitter. As for his young granddaughter, I’m looking forward to meeting her.” Daniel had already mentioned Sandra was in Darwin and had expressed the desire to meet Joel Moreland which seemed to please this great man.
Bill Morrissey excused himself after the main course, having told them he had an important meeting with a Federal Minister, leaving Daniel and Joel Moreland alone.
If it’s coming, it’s coming now, Daniel thought. An offer of some kind. He’d be a fool if he hadn’t cottoned on to the fact Joel Moreland was extraordinarily interested in him. In fact Moreland did nothing to disguise it. It was very flattering and almost but not quite, alarming. Their personalities seemed to be in too much harmony.
“I’m unsure how to begin, Daniel,” Moreland said, sounding oddly uncertain for him.
“I find that hard to believe, sir,” Daniel commented. What could Moreland possibly say that could cause a moment’s awkwardness?
“Do you know why I wanted to see you? Lord knows I’ve heard enough about you.”
“To perhaps offer me a job?” Daniel flashed his engaging smile.
“I’d offer you a job tomorrow, Daniel,” Moreland replied.
“But that’s not the reason. I’m looking into your background.”
Instantly the smile was wiped from Daniel’s face. “I don’t exactly have a background, Mr. Moreland,” he said, wondering if the meeting was going to end right there. “My mother is dead. I have no idea who my father was. I know one usually knows but my mother couldn’t bring herself to tell me.”
“Don’t upset yourself, son.” Surprisingly Moreland put out a large hand, tapping Daniel’s reassuringly much like a father figure. “I know the terrible thing that was done to you and your mother. However, I believe there might be a connection with my family.”
Daniel’s silver eyes flashed as though Moreland had made a cruel joke. “That’s not possible, sir, I’m sorry.”
“Nevertheless I’ve been looking into it,” Moreland said, a discernible tremble in his self-assured voice.
“So this is what it’s all about?”
Moreland looked down at his linked hands. “Sometimes guilt or the perception of guilt can cling to the innocent. It’s only recently been suggested to me my son may have fathered a child. Imagine the shock, Daniel! I had great difficulty taking it in. I thought I knew everything there was to know about my wife but my sister-in-law tells me otherwise.”
Daniel’s eyes were like ice. “Why would she wait to tell you now? Forgive me, sir, but your son has been dead for many long years.”
“Twenty-eight and I’ve grieved for every day of it,” Moreland said heavily. “My wife died eight months ago. She never got over the loss of our boy. I have a daughter and a beautiful granddaughter, Cecile. They live in Melbourne. They visit me on all the right occasions but I have no one who can step into my shoes. That was Jared’s role. Rigby and I always thought there was a parallel. I lost Jared. He lost Trevor. There’s Lloyd, I know and Lloyd’s boy. Rigby had grave misgivings about leaving Moondai to them.”
“He spoke to you about it?” Daniel couldn’t keep the shock from his voice.
Moreland nodded. “There was no great friendship between us. Rigby wasn’t an easy man to know or like but there was a bond. All he could think of was a way to keep Moondai going.”
Daniel sat back in his chair looking highly wary. “I hope the plan didn’t involve me.”
Moreland spread his hands. “Who knows? Having said that most would agree his young granddaughter couldn’t possibly run it without a good man by her side. Young as you are, you managed to win Rigby’s respect. No mean feat. He spoke at length about you on the last occasion I saw him which was shortly before he died. I would have been at his funeral only I was in Beijing at the time as part of a trade mission.”
“So what did you read into it, Mr. Moreland, if I dare ask?”
Moreland searched Daniel’s eyes. “That his granddaughter had to marry well. I’m not talking money here. I’m talking marrying a man eminently suitable to take over the running of Moondai.”
“Well there’s a sort of logic about it,” Daniel said, his attractive voice turned unnaturally hard, “but like all things hard to pull off. For one thing it’s not the sort of thing I would be party to.”
“You mean marry a woman to take a giant leap up in life and control of one of our finest cattle stations?”
Daniel counted to twenty before replying. “That’s exactly what I mean. I’m no fortune hunter.”
“I can see that you’re not, Daniel,” Moreland spoke soothingly. “But the Kingstons aside, I want you to look at this.” He reached into the breast pocket of his linen jacket and extracted a photograph which he handed to Daniel. “Do you know this young woman?”
“Should I?” Daniel’s brows knit.
“Have a look.”
Daniel took the photograph into his hand, staring down at the young woman’s face. For a moment he almost gave way to anger. This wasn’t happening. Why was Moreland doing this? Clearly he too was distressed. That fact alone made Daniel get a grip on himself. “What is this?” he asked in a tight voice. “Some skeleton in the cupboard you’ve let out? This is a photograph of my mother when she was young. The eyes are unmistakable.” Large, beautiful dark eyes filled with more sadness than laughter.
“And her name was?” Moreland persisted, his fine face creased with emotion.
Daniel forced himself to answer, memories like importunate ghosts crowding in on him. “Annie Carson.”
Moreland nodded, his expression very sombre. “Johanna Carson was a maid in our household for a period of about eighteen months. This was in the late 1970s.”
“She obviously had a double,” Daniel said his eyes flashing. “My mother was born in England. She came to Australia as a child with an aunt, her guardian. Her parents were killed in a motorway pile-up. That was the story anyway. Her aunt reared her but they split up when her aunt married someone my mother didn’t like. My mother was on her own from a young age. She never travelled outside Queensland. She never travelled anywhere. She didn’t have the money. She certainly didn’t visit the Northern Territory. She is not this Johanna Carson. She can’t be.”
Moreland waited until Daniel finished his quiet tirade, before pr
oducing another photograph. “Look at this.”
“I’m not sure I want to see it,” Daniel said. “I’m sorry.”
“Please, my boy,” Moreland pleaded. “This was my reason for meeting.”
“Very well then. I can’t say…” Daniel froze in midsentence. Moreland’s face had gone from handsome to haggard in a matter of moments. “Are you’re all right, sir?” he asked in alarm. “Can I get you anything? You’ve lost all colour.”
“Maybe a brandy,” Moreland suggested.
Daniel didn’t wait to signal a waiter; he fetched one. The waiter bolted away and reappeared with a brandy on a small silver tray in under twenty seconds.
Moreland took a slow draft then straightened his shoulders which as a young man would have been as wide as Daniel’s. The blood rushed back into his face. “Ah, that’s better. This isn’t easy for either of us, Daniel, but we have to get through it.”
To calm him, Daniel took the much newer looking photograph that Moreland had set down on the table.
He pored over it, recognising his own face, albeit the subject was a young woman. “Who is this?” he asked, casting a troubled glance at Moreland.
Moreland looked at him in the kindliest way possible. “It’s my granddaughter, Cecile.”
“She’s very beautiful,” Daniel remarked, not considering for a moment it followed he had to be very handsome. “How old is she?”
“Twenty-four.” Moreland smiled, looking much better.
“She’s in Scotland at the moment and loving it. She’s chief bridesmaid to a close friend who’s marrying into Scottish aristocracy if you please. A whole week of festivities is planned.”
“One can only wonder at how different her life has been to mine,” Daniel said not without a certain bitterness.
Moreland leaned forward, his tone gentle. “I came to ask you Daniel if you would allow a blood test?”
Without giving himself time to think, Daniel shook his head vehemently. “I’m sorry, sir, no. What does it really matter now? My mother was a tragic figure. She’s dead now. Personally I don’t give a damn who my father was. Whoever he was he didn’t want me.”