The Australian Heiress

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The Australian Heiress Page 4

by Way, Margaret


  “That’s not so surprising,” Browning said. “He’s a gentleman. He has daughters around your age. It doesn’t hurt, either, to have Christie’s Auction House auction things right here on the premises. It adds to the drama. The house is the best setting. You saw the turnout last night.”

  A visible tremor passed through Camille’s body. “Yes. And Nick Lombard of all people!”

  Browning frowned. “All the same, I have to say he seems a very fine man. Very courteous. Very much the patrician, not a hint of arrogance. I had to show him to the library to take a phone call from London. Apparently it was urgent.”

  “They could have picked a better time.”

  “He mentioned that himself. As for Garner and that dreadful gloating girl, it was all I could do not to throw them out!”

  “Much better to ignore them. The thing is, Tommy, we have no say anymore. We do what we’re told.”

  All too true. A year later and Browning still felt a tremendous sense of outrage. Harry Guilford had not provided for his daughter. She’d received a fine education. She had a wardrobe full of beautiful clothes and accessories. It had been important for Harry Guilford’s image that he have a well-turned-out daughter—but he had not taken a single step to ensure her financial security should anything happen to him or his empire. There was jewelry—a few beautiful pieces. Ones that had been her mother’s, plus various expensive baubles Guilford had given her to sustain the myth that he was an indulgent father. One had to get very close to home to see how very sad Camille Guilford’s upbringing had been. So it was little wonder he and Dot, while despising their late employer, had served him well; the child had been impossible to resist. For all the emotional deprivation of her life, Camille had emerged full of character, full of fight Browning was proud of her.

  A FEW HOURS LATER Camille was in need of that fighting spirit, when it was apparent how completely she had lost status. From the moment she walked into Guilford Tower on her way up to see Hugh Evans, president of Comtek, staff who had once jumped to attention or gone out of their way to call a greeting now had far more important things on their minds.

  I’m just one of the mob, Camille thought. No one special.

  Hugh’s secretary, Ruth Maynard, took long moments to even look up from her work when Camille walked in. Finally she told Camille to take a seat. Mr. Evans was busy, she said. He would buzz through when he was ready.

  Camille countered the woman’s less-than-welcoming demeanor with a smile. She walked back to one of the handsome leather armchairs, picked up a magazine from the table.

  Keep cool, she told herself. She realized now that Hugh’s secretary had never liked her. Maybe it was professional jealousy. Camille, with a first-class degree in commerce, had worked at a fairly rarefied level within Comtek, one of the few companies that had actually survived the debacle. It dealt with New Age technology—computer software. Camille had been introduced to computers very early in life when she had regarded them as fascinating playthings. Before her father’s momentous crash she’d been considered something of a whiz kid.

  Now, for some reason, Hugh seemed intent on stripping her of any decision-making. No doubt about it She wasn’t so much slipping as being forced down the ladder. Hugh had overlooked her for what once would have been certain promotion. A male colleague, not as skilled or experienced, had been given the job, instead. Clearly she was no longer one of the favorites.

  She riffled rather aimlessly through the magazine, recoiling in shock as her eye fell on a photograph of Nick Lombard surrounded by a gaggle of microphones. Underneath the photo was the caption “Lombard swoops on GNT.” The two-page article was entitled “Guilford versus Lombard—battle of the Gladiators” and described how Nick Lombard had destroyed Guilford Network Technics. Camille slapped the magazine closed and returned it to the glass-topped table. Why would they keep a magazine so dated? She felt tense. Perturbed.

  She stood up abruptly, startling the starchy Ruth Maynard, who seemed about to say something when the door to Hugh Evans’s office opened and Hugh himself appeared.

  “Camille!” He held out his hand, a balding, solidly built man, impeccably groomed.

  “Good morning, Hugh.” She crossed to him and shook his hand. Slender and elegant in a white linen suit, she wore her hair drawn back into a knot, a style that should have been severe but looked anything but

  The huge plate-glass window behind Hugh’s desk afforded a breathtaking view of the harbor. Camille sat down opposite, neatly crossing her legs. “How are negotiations with Sam Fullerton coming?” she asked. Fullerton, the president of a large electronics firm, had shown interest in the software division.

  “Oh, so-so.” Hugh stabbed impatiently at a button as his intercom buzzed. “What is it, Ruth?” he barked.

  “A reminder, Mr. Evans. You have a luncheon appointment with Mr. Lombard.”

  “I know, I know.” He sounded thoroughly rattled. “I’m with Miss Guilford now. Hold my calls.”

  Camille couldn’t believe her ears. “What could you possibly want with Nick Lombard?” she asked in amazement.

  Hugh was instantly on the defensive. “My dear, I’m trying my hardest to keep this company together. For all our successes we’re in a precarious position. Once things got bad, your father started to shift our profits into GNT.”

  “I know that, Hugh.” Camille looked down at her hands. “But why would you be talking to Lombard? He’s the enemy!”

  Hugh hid his embarrassment behind a frowning mask. “Camille, I’d sup with the devil if it would help us to keep afloat. Besides, I’m interested in hanging on to my job. Don’t think I don’t appreciate all you’ve been through, but you’re in no position to question my judgment.”

  “But I am questioning it, Hugh. Have you forgotten Nick Lombard brought us all to our knees?”

  “Harry did that, Camille.” Hugh gave her a twisted smile. “Harry thought himself invincible. God knows why you’re so loyal to his memory. I’m one of the few to know just how miserable he was to you. All outward show was Harry. You look like a million bucks, you always do, but Harry left you no life raft. I can’t think of anyone else who wouldn’t have salted away enough to keep his only child financially secure. There was no way of understanding Harry. He idolized your mother. You’re her very image, yet he treated you as though you were someone else’s child. Someone moreover he hated.”

  Camille swallowed her pain. “It doesn’t matter now, Hugh. I’ve got plenty going for me. I’m not penniless. I’m well qualified to earn a good living.”

  Hugh was silent for a moment. “Be that as it may, you can’t be so blasé about losing everything.”

  “I’m all right, Hugh.” Camille spoke softly. “I was the Australian Heiress for a very long time. It didn’t make me happy. I still pray for my father’s soul.”

  Hugh’s gray eyes darkened. “My God, would there be prayers enough? Harry didn’t give a damn about any one of us. He didn’t give a damn about all the terrible risks he took. I know he called me a competent old bore behind my back but in the end I turned out a whole lot smarter. I made this company grow. I found you a job. Why, Harry never even gave you credit for being clever.”

  “As I said, Hugh, it doesn’t matter now. Are you looking to Lombard to shore up Comtek?”

  A thin smile curved Hugh’s lips. “What’s so unusual about that? Nick Lombard, my dear, is not just some flamboyant upstart. He’s old money. Establishment. A very solid man indeed.”

  “It doesn’t matter he’s a pirate?”

  Hugh didn’t look away. His gaze was level. “No, Camille. You’re too smart to let your emotions blind you to the truth. Harry fed us all a lot of garbage. He was paranoid about Lombard. Come to think it, Lombard was fairly paranoid about him.”

  “Did they have some sort of…early connection?” Camille probed carefully. “You were with my father almost from the beginning.”

  “Connection?” Hugh’s face reddened markedly. “What do you mean?”


  “Lombard told me something astonishing. He said my mother was once on the verge of marrying his uncle.”

  Hugh’s eyes went blank. “I know nothing about that.”

  “Are you sure?” Camille continued to watch his face.

  Hugh looked away. “Of course I’m sure. Look I really don’t want to go into this, my dear. What I wanted to talk to you about is your job.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Camille breathed. “Might I say, Hugh, I don’t think I should have been passed over for that promotion.”

  Hugh leaned back. “Bob Denholm was a good solid candidate. You mightn’t realize it, Camille, but you’re something of a risk taker—like your father.”

  She tried to ignore the alarm bells that went off. “If I’ve ever taken a risk, Hugh, it’s paid off. And it’s not been risk for risk’s sake. I thought it was called considered decision-making.”

  “Nevertheless you’re not as cautious as you could be,” Hugh insisted. “You don’t work well under constraint, either.”

  “Hugh, I’m not quite sure what you’re trying to say. You’ve never had a complaint before. In fact, as you’ve often told me, my high salary was justified. What’s gone wrong?”

  Hugh took a small bottle from a drawer, shook out a couple of tablets and swallowed them without water. “Your name, Camille,” he said finally. “People find it bitter. Our shareholders especially. They got very badly burned. Even now people get uptight when the name Guilford crops up.”

  By now the alarm bells were deafening. “You’re not firing me, are you?”

  Hugh let out a great sigh. “I care about you, Camille. I care about what happens to you, but Harry left a tremendous amount of residual hatred and anger. As innocent as you are, you’ve become involved. You know how many people have turned away from you already. You know the ones last night who came to gloat. In his own way Harry has almost destroyed your career.”

  “I can’t believe that, Hugh!” Camille burst out. “You’re allowing me to be a scapegoat, yet you were the one who gave me my start.”

  “Maybe I did it to spite Harry,” Hugh said, and Camille blanched. “A beautiful young woman like you doesn’t need a career, anyway. I would have thought you’d be a lot happier away from here.”

  “This has something to do with Nick Lombard, doesn’t it?” Camille said.

  “Don’t be absurd.” But Hugh looked flustered.

  “Oh, am I? On the same day you tell me I’ve lost my job you’re having lunch with him.”

  “Pure coincidence, I assure you.” Hugh paused. “I’m thinking of you, Camille. After all that’s happened, your continuing presence would be…an embarrassment.”

  A touch of contempt entered Camille’s eyes. “So what am I supposed to do for a job?”

  Hugh looked down at a file on his desk. “You’re good, Camille, no doubt about that, but I can’t honestly think of anyone in Sydney who’d want to take you on.”

  “It is Lombard, isn’t it?” Camille rose to her feet. “He’s bent on revenge. Obsessed with it. Probably you’ve already entered into some agreement.”

  Hugh stood, as well, a vein pulsing in his temple. “Camille, I’m disappointed in you.”

  “Oh, to hell with that, Hugh,” she said coldly. “I’ve never failed you. I’ve worked hard. I know the others expected me to get gobbled up by my first coffee break, but I made it.”

  “We wouldn’t let you go empty-handed,” Hugh said, as though trying to soften the blow. “I have a figure in mind. You have to understand, Camille, you upset a lot of people. You always did. Envy is one of the deadly sins. Maybe if you were less beautiful, less clever, you wouldn’t have run the risk of inheriting so many of Harry’s enemies.” Hugh made a conciliatory gesture. “But I do have the names of a few people who might help you….”

  Camille had difficulty hiding her disgust. “That’s quite all right, Hugh. I’ll help myself. I don’t want any golden handshakes either. Just what I’m owed.”

  “Harry slammed everyone who tried to help him, too,” Hugh said, and Camille didn’t miss the spite in his tone.

  “It sounds as if you’ve waited half a lifetime to say that.”

  Hugh gave a laugh that was more like a choke. “I never wanted to cross Harry. Even now. But you’re right—I do have a score to settle. So do a lot of people. I realize it doesn’t make life easy for you. Anyway, you’re not about to finish up on the streets. You have your mother’s jewelry. That emerald-and-diamond necklace Harry gave her must be worth a small fortune.”

  “Do you think I’d sell it?”

  “My dear, you might have to. If you ever do decide to, I could help you there. And another thing—I wouldn’t go around telling people how much you loathe Nick Lombard. Not if you want to find a safe niche for yourself. There’s so much friction still around. So much tension. You’ve suffered a terrible reversal, but I know you have it in you to survive.”

  “Thanks, Hugh.” Camille gave him a brittle little salute and turned toward the door.

  “Camille, my dear, don’t see it like that.” He hurried over to her and attempted to put his arm around her, but Camille shrugged him off.

  “There’s no other way to see it. Goodbye, Hugh. I hope you choke on your lunch with my father’s executioner.”

  With that Camille threw open the door. And suddenly, shockingly, Nick Lombard was there before her.

  Her heart beat so fast it was a physical pain. Anger and betrayal raging in her mind, she drew back her hand and slapped him across the face. Hard.

  “Camille!” Hugh rushed toward her in horror while his secretary leaped out of her chair as though the whole world was coming unscrambled.

  Nick Lombard caught hold of Camille’s wrist, holding her arm aloft. “You’ve saved that up for a while.” His voice was low, carefully controlled, but the force of his powerful personality blazed from his eyes.

  “I haven’t begun to mobilize myself yet.” Camille was still riding the fiery wave of defiance. “Give me time.”

  “Not if I have to go around warding off blows.”

  “Oh, please. So charge me with assault.”

  Hugh was red-faced, tight-lipped. “Camille, Camille, will you stop! How can I begin to apologize, Lombard?”

  “Apologize?” Camille would have slapped Hugh, as well, but Nick Lombard still held her. “Apologize?” she repeated incredulously. “Mr. Lombard is going to have to realize he can’t play around with people’s lives.”

  Hugh looked as if he’d been thrown a hot brick. “You’re quite mistaken, Camille. I told you that.”

  “Mistaken about what?” Nick Lombard’s piercing dark eyes went from one to the other.

  “It’s nothing. A private thing,” Hugh said dismissively.

  “You’re in a hell of a spot now, aren’t you, Hugh.” Camille laughed humorlessly.

  “Shouldn’t I hear about it, as it appears to involve me?” Lombard said.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, why go on with this charade?” Camille didn’t mask her disgust. “For that matter, Mr. Lombard, would you please let go of my arm?”

  “No,” he answered crisply. “I will in good time.”

  She wasn’t a child to be held under restraint. “Who are you?” she demanded.

  “I’m not your enemy, as you seem to think. Let’s go into your office, Hugh, and discuss this.”

  Hugh shrugged helplessly. “I promise you there’s nothing to discuss.” He glanced meaningfully at his secretary who instantly fled the room.

  “Perhaps you’re addicted to risk taking, Camille.” Nick Lombard looked into Camille’s angry sparkling eyes.

  “I’m not afraid of you, if that’s what you mean. I know I should be, but I’m not. Surely you’re not going to pretend you didn’t know I’ve been fired.”

  His eyes narrowed to the merest jet slits. “Your position in this company has absolutely nothing to do with me.”

  Hugh was looking more and more wretched. “I take full
responsibility. It’s my job to hire and fire. And always for a good reason.”

  “My sacking is a joke, Hugh!” Camille said fiercely.

  Lombard looked at Hugh. “You told me yourself that Miss Guilford is brilliant,” he said.

  “Too brilliant for her own good.” Hugh swept his hand over his balding head. “Unhappily Camille’s made many enemies here. An unfortunate Guilford trait.”

  “One wonders what she’s done to you,” Nick Lombard quietly countered.

  Hugh stared back at him, his expression resentful. “It’s more of a case of the sins of the fathers. This city’s had enough of the Guilford name. You’d know that more than anyone, Lombard. It’s a small world.”

  “Full of mean small-minded people,” Camille maintained.

  “I was left with little option.” Hugh was all injured innocence. “It’s not as though you’ve personally done anything wrong, Camille, but I truly believe you’d be happier someplace else.”

  “Like Outer Mongolia?”

  Nick Lombard turned to her. “You’re intelligent, qualified, ambitious. Not everyone will hold your name against you.”

  “Just the ones you manage to influence,” Camille told him hotly.

  “Camille, look.” Hugh made an awkward attempt at conciliation. “I know you’re entitled to let off a bit of steam, but you go too far. Mr. Lombard has no knowledge of this affair. We had a luncheon appointment and we’re already running late. I’ll be in touch with you again soon.”

  “Please don’t bother,” Camille said. “Just work out my severance pay. I don’t need the extra conscience money. I’ve known you for most of my life, but only today did I discover you’re no friend, Hugh. You’re a rat and I’m saying it right to your face. You know I don’t deserve this treatment. Your claim about all the enemies I’ve made is pure fabrication. I was liked well enough. I did my work. As for you, Mr. Lombard—” her eyes swept his face “—you’re a monster!”

 

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