by Emma Darcy
The Ultimate Choice
Emma Darcy
She'd never run from anything before… And Kelly wasn't about to start now.Horses were Kelly's life – and when the sardonic new owner of Marian Parkseemed set to ruin her career in show jumping, she was furious. Moreimportant, there was the callous way he'd treated her beloved grandfather.So Kelly stormed off to confront Justin St. John. It was a confrontation,all right – only Kelly found a very different man from the one she'd heardabout. And the reality was far more challenging.
Emma Darcy
The Ultimate Choice
© 1989
CHAPTER ONE
The moment he heard of Henry Lloyd's death, Justin St John knew that he would buy Marian Park.
He had always admired quality. And if ever any place held the true and lasting essence of quality it was Marian Park.
He didn't need the estate agent to show him over the property-to tell him that it was one of the finest merino sheep stud-farms in Australia-to lead him around the magnificent gardens which had been planned and planted by Marian Lloyd sixty years before-to take him through each room of the grand old country mansion. Even if the whole place had been neglected for the last sixteen years-which it hadn't-Justin would have bought it, anyway.
He paused in the beautifully proportioned drawing-room and stared at the portrait above the fireplace. The pain of loss was still as sharp as if it had happened yesterday.
The agent interpreted Justin's fixed look as one of curious interest.
'Noni Lloyd, the old man's granddaughter,' he explained. 'Painted after her eighteenth birthday. She died a year later. Fell from a horse. I understand she was a very promising rider in show- jumping circles. Beautiful girl.'
'Yes,' Justin murmured, the word only just husking over the welling lump in his throat. He swallowed hard. She was so vividly alive on that canvas…the only woman he had ever loved. No one else before or since had ever matched up to Noni Lloyd. Justin no longer believed that anyone ever would. And he knew he would never settle for second best.
'The portrait would fetch a good price if you wanted to sell it,' the agent prattled on.
'No. It belongs there,' Justin said curtly, and forced himself to turn away rather than suffer any more unwelcome comments. His grey eyes were bleak and steely as he met the look of speculative enquiry on the agent's face. 'I would want everything to remain exactly as it is,' he stated in a flat monotone.
Noni would have hated Marian Park passing into the hands of strangers. If she had not died that day, they would have married, had children… and the family tradition would have gone on. It was something he could do for her: see that it was all kept intact… as she would have done… as they would have done together.
Justin was barely conscious of where they walked after the agent steered him out of the house. Memories kept flooding through his mind, and it took most of his concentrated will-power to drive them out and keep them at bay until he could be alone again.
They emerged from the pine forest that sheltered the gardens and there were the stables, straight ahead. The stables where he had last kissed Noni before she had started out on that fatal ride…
His step faltered for a moment, his left leg stiffening as if in conscious protest. Justin pushed himself on. If he intended to live here, he had to learn to live with everything. Perhaps there might come a day when he could put the nightmare to rest.
He deliberately forced himself to look down at Noni's practice field where it had happened. The sense of time reeling backwards shook his mind and heart when he saw the woman rider urging her horse over the jumps Noni had used: the gate, the combination, the single rail, the triple…
Noni… wheeling the big black stallion short to gain time, trying to set him into stride. The horse barely skimming the first jump, knocking the rail on the second, balking at the last moment… crashing into the third, throwing Noni… its leg broken… panicking… dangerous…
Justin had run with fear in his mouth and desperation driving his legs like pistons. And he would have reached Noni, would have been able to protect her, save her, but for that last split-second decision. Even now he didn't understand-would never understand-what made him choose the way he had.
'Mr St John, are you all right?'
A hand clutched his shoulder. Justin swayed slightly, his skin clammy, his bad leg almost giving way under him. He recollected himself with difficulty, and turned to the agent who was staring anxiously at him.
'A momentary indisposition.' He tried to stretch his mouth into a reassuring smile. 'I'm ready to continue.'
The agent frowned. 'Sure you don't want to return to the house?'
'Certain.'
He completed the inspection that the agent directed, but his leg was giving him hell and his face was pinched with the pain of it when they finally returned to their cars in the driveway. Justin didn't know why he had forced himself to go through with the whole tour. A sense of duty? Respect? Guilt that he had never come back to visit Noni's grandfather?
He wished he hadn't seen the woman rider.
Henry Lloyd had never attached any blame to him for Noni's death. The old man had visited him in the hospital, insisted that Justin had only done what anyone would have done in the circumstances. But Noni was dead… and the choice he had made still haunted him.
He turned decisively to the estate agent. 'Tell the executors I'll buy the place. Settlement to be completed as soon as possible…' He laid down the terms he wanted.
'That's the best decision you've ever made!' the agent crowed, unable to contain his satisfaction. 'At twenty-two million, you're almost stealing it.'
Justin sliced him with a grim smile. 'At twenty-two million, I expect to get precisely what I want. To the letter.'
He was prepared to pay for quality. It wasn't all that easy to come by. A woman like Noni, a place like Marian Park-they were rare things. And Justin St John knew that, when the chance came along to acquire something of rare quality, even the most minute hesitation could lose it for you. He was not about to lose Marian Park.
But there was one last thing he needed to know. It had to be settled before he took up residence here. 'The woman rider we saw practising jumps… who is she? Someone belonging to the estate?'
'A local lass,' the agent replied. 'She had an arrangement with Henry Lloyd to ride his horses. She doesn't work here.'
Justin's mouth set in grim satisfaction.
The matter did not require any diplomacy. It was clear cut. The woman would have to find some other sponsor.
There would be no more show-jumping at Marian Park. And no horse he owned would ever be ridden for that purpose again. Perhaps Henry Lloyd had wanted a living reminder of his granddaughter around him. Justin St John didn't.
And down on the practice field that Henry Lloyd had set up for his granddaughter so many years ago, Kelly Hanrahan urged the big black stallion on to the next jump, unaware that a decision had been made that would inexorably alter the course of her life from that time onwards.
CHAPTER TWO
Kelly's first impulse was to refuse. Point-blank!
A furious anger boiled through her brain. It put a volcanic edge on the outrage she had nursed for days. She wanted-very, very much-to tell Justin St John where he could go. And what he could do with his money! She felt no sympathy whatsoever for his pain. If he really needed physiotherapy, he could find someone else to do it for him. She was not about to lay one helpful hand on that… that tyrant!
'Miss Hanrahan?' the caller prompted at the other end of the telephone line. He had introduced himself as Justin St John's secretary. The new squire of Marian Park didn't waste his precious time chatting with any of the local people.
Kelly seethed
, torn between her natural humanity that demanded she relieve the suffering of a human being, and the knowledge that Justin St John was not a human being!
Her teeth gritted in resistance as second thoughts forced her to acknowledge that it wasn't exactly ethical to refuse anyone an appointment. Not even Justin St John! Besides which, if she had him at her mercy, she could use the opportunity to tell him precisely what she thought of him.
But she was not going to play the role of lackey to anyone. If he wanted the relief she could give him, he could come crawling to her!
She injected a frosty dignity into her voice. 'Would you please explain to Mr St John that no matter what fee he offers me, I do not give private physiotherapy outside my office. I do not lug a specialist table around with me…'
'We can set up a suitable table for you here, Miss Hanrahan,' the secretary quickly interrupted. 'And if you need help with any other equipment, I'll come and fetch it in the van and return it for you.'
'Wouldn't it be simpler for Mr St John to come to the office himself?' Kelly sliced back, barely restraining an acid note of sarcasm.
'Miss Hanrahan, the problem is mainly in the hip-joint. From an old injury. Travelling is extremely painful for him,' he explained in a tone of sweet reasoning. 'I'm sure that, given good-will on both sides, we can come to some arrangement that will not put you out too much.'
Kelly fumed. 'Put out' hit the nail right on the head! Justin St John had refused her everything! He had refused to consider the arrangement she had had with Henry Lloyd. He had refused to allow her access to the horses she had been training for years. He had even refused to see her personally. Which was bad enough, but what he was doing to Grandpa was so mean, so cruel…
She tried to calm down. Uncle Tom reckoned they had a good case against Justin St John reclaiming Grandpa's property. Uncle Tom might not be a smart city solicitor, but he was wily in the ways of the land. All was not lost, not by a long shot. Justin St John was about to get the biggest fight he had ever had in his smug, privileged life!
And some inner voice told her that if she was ever going to get close enough to tell him what she thought of him this was her best chance.
On the other hand, Uncle Tom-who, technically speaking, was not her uncle at all-had warned her and Grandpa not to speak to Justin St John. They were to leave the matter entirely in his hands. Personal confrontations wouldn't win them anything in a case of law.
But Kelly's intuition urged that a little straight speaking was precisely what Justin St John needed. He couldn't very well order her off the premises when he had asked her to come. And, while it might not help Grandpa's case, it couldn't do any harm. It would certainly do her a powerful lot of good to get a few things off her chest!
'Very well,' she said decisively. But her inner turmoil had wiped out all recollection of the caller's introduction. 'Er… I'm sorry, I don't recall your name.'
'Farley. Roy Farley,' he supplied with brightened haste.
'I'll bring my equipment with me. You have the table ready. Will five-thirty this afternoon suit Mr St John's convenience?' She smiled as she said that, but if Roy Farley had seen the smile he might have had second thoughts about securing her services. It was a long way from being a smile of servility. Or of mercy.
'Certainly, Miss Hanrahan. I do hope Marian Park is not too far out of your way?' he added enquiringly.
'Actually, it's very close to home, Mr Farley. Very close,' Kelly repeated with secret relish. Too close for comfort, as Justin St John would very shortly discover!
'Oh, that will work out well, then,' the secretary enthused, obviously thinking that any future physiotherapy sessions would be no trouble at all. 'We'll look forward to seeing you at five-thirty, Miss Hanrahan,' he added with satisfaction, and rang off. Mission accomplished.
Kelly found it difficult to concentrate on her work for the rest of the afternoon. Justin St John was like a festering wound that gave her no peace, but at least she could let some of the pus out when she saw him this evening. It might be short-lived solace, but if she could tear into his self-centred little world the exercise would be well worth while.
Best not to tell Grandpa where she was going or what she intended to do. It would only churn him up again to no good purpose. And tonight was his chess night with Judge Moffat. Grandpa was sure to lose if he was upset over Justin St John again. Besides which, the judge was on their side, and he might come up with something to aid them in their fight.
She telephoned home in good time to warn her grandfather that she would be working late and not to wait dinner for her. There was a pre-cooked casserole in the refrigerator, and all he had to do was reheat it in the oven. Her grandfather didn't question her. This last week he seemed to have sunk into an apathy that was even more worrying to Kelly than the outbursts of rage over Justin St John.
Henry Lloyd's death had hit her grandfather hard. 'It's no good any more without Henry,' he had grumbled last night. 'The judge is a fine old friend, but it's not the same. Henry should have outlived me the way he always reckoned he would;'
'You've still got me, Grandpa,' Kelly had pointed out, trying to cheer him up.
The weary sadness only settled more deeply. 'And what good am I to you, Kelly? Only a burden. A burden that should be put to rest.'
The grief and strain and stress they had suffered since Henry Lloyd's death were telling on both of them. Tears welled in Kelly's eyes. 'Then I'd be all alone. Please don't wish that on me, Grandpa.'
He had ended up comforting her, as he had been comforting her all her life. She couldn't remember her parents. She had been only two years old when their car had hit a kangaroo, gone out of control, and slammed into a tree at the side of the road. Her mother and father were killed instantly, but Kelly had survived uninjured. There had only ever been three important people in her life: Grandpa and Noni and Henry Lloyd.
Henry had been like a second grandfather to her, and Noni like a wonderful big sister. She hadn't had parents, either. Her mother and father had divorced and were living separate lives overseas, so Noni lived with her grandfather just as Kelly lived with hers. She had taught Kelly how to ride, and played with her, and given her special treats-and Kelly had worshipped her.
But Noni had gone first-when Kelly was seven years old-and for months afterwards she had trailed around Marian Park looking for her, not believing Noni had left them all and was never coming back. It was only many years later that Kelly realised how kind and patient Henry Lloyd had been with her. But Noni's death had left him lonely, too, and the closest of bonds had grown between them.
It had been hard at first to believe he was gone, too. There had been no warning. Not the slightest premonition from Henry himself. He really had intended to outlive Grandpa. He simply went to bed one night and died in his sleep.
And if Grandpa gave up and died on her now…a terrible hollowness burrowed through Kelly's stomach. She knew it had to happen some day, but she would never be ready for it. And Justin St John was going to pay for adding injury to Grandpa's grief, making him feel worse than he had to be, so depressed and miserable that he no longer wanted to live.
Kelly saw her last patient out of the door, tidied up the office, then carefully transported the interferential and the ultrasound to the back seat of her car which was parked behind the building. She vowed that if her equipment got damaged in any way Justin St John would pay through the nose for it. But she didn't really expect any problem with it.
She returned to lock up and made a last-minute visit to the Ladies that served all the offices in the compact medical centre. Normally she was not over- concerned about her appearance, but it would be no normal meeting between her and Justin St John. She wanted to look cool, calm, composed and professional… to put him off guard before she attacked!
She pulled a brush through the thick length of her dark auburn hair, neatened the fringe that swept above the natural arch of her eyebrows, approved the sparkling light of battle in her wide green eyes, and
added a dash of fresh lipstick for sheer female vanity.
She tucked the tailored white shirt more firmly into the navy blue tailored skirt, checked that her homi-ped navy sandals were shiny clean and there was no run in her tights, heaved a sigh to relieve her inner tension, then picked up her shoulder-bag and set off on her way.
Marian Park was seventeen kilometres from the township of Bowral, not a long drive and always a pleasant one for Kelly. The southern tablelands of New South Wales had a relatively cool climate, and the country was green and lush at this time of year.
If it wasn't for Justin St John, she would be rushing home to exercise the horses, getting them into peak condition for the last show-jumping venue at Dapto before the Australian Grand Prix at Wentworth Park.
As a last resort, she had contacted as many people as she thought might be able to help her out of her dilemma. She had been offered a number of rides, but only on second-string horses. They gave her no hope of winning the points she still needed to put her into the World Cup. Not that she could go overseas and leave Grandpa alone now, anyway. That dream had died with Henry Lloyd. But Justin St John had buried it! To take her horses away from her was as unfair as taking Grandpa's property. Henry Lloyd had certainly bought the stallions and the mares. He had indulged her with everything she wanted, in order to follow in Noni's footsteps. But it was Kelly's own work with them that had increased their value to such an extent that, if Justin St John sold them and pocketed the proceeds himself, it would be downright robbery.
After she had won the blue ribbon on Rasputin at the Perth Grand Prix, the visiting Koreans had offered five times the price Henry had paid for him. And Rapunzel, the palomino mare, had attracted an equal offer from the Japanese. Lady of Shallot and Sir Galahad, her second-string horses, could easily fetch triple their initial cost. And no way could Kelly afford to buy any one of them.