by Margaret Way
Black Ingo
Margaret Way
Harlequin (1978)
Tags: Romance - Harlequin
* * *
They were friends but was that enough?
Tandarro-- the name had always spelled magic for Genny. But this time her encounter with Ingo Faulkner would be different.
Ingo ruled the cattle kingdom and the lives of those dependent on him. It was a shock to Genny to learn she and her mother were included in this group.
Her adolescent rebellion against Ingo's influence had proved futile. Now that she was a woman, she knew that there was only one thing she wanted from this dynamic man who had already given her so much-- his love!
BLACK INGO MARGARET WAY
They were friends but was that enough? Tandarro - the name had always spelled magic for Genny. But this time her encounter with Ingo Faulkner would be different. Ingo ruled the cattle kingdom and the lives of those dependent on him. It was a shock to Genny to learn she and her mother were included in this group. Her adolescent rebellion against Ingo’s influence had proved futile. Now that she was a woman, she knew that there was only one thing she wanted from this dynamic man who had already given her so much— his love!
CHAPTER ONE
Felicity Russell put her empty glass down and hoisted her slipping glasses from the bridge of her small, pretty nose.
‘A love affair may cause me worries.‘ she read avidly. ‘How fascinating!’
‘No chance of that on Tandarro.’ Genny said dryly, thanking her lucky stars.
‘If only Ingo weren’t my cousin.‘ Felicity moaned, regretful but resigned, picking up where she left off on her horoscope. She took it all very seriously, the excitements and the difficulties, the important decisions that had to be held off. At thirty-nine, nearing forty, Felicity was a celebrated beauty, dreamy and fragile to the point of frailty, with a miraculous and seemingly indestructible look of the lovely blooming twenties, and very little else to disprove the traditional theory about blondes. Scatty she might have been, but she was very likeable, totally without malice and irresistible to the male of the species since she had given her first little breathy hiccough. The doctor at that time had no other choice but to pronounce her the prettiest baby he had ever delivered, when in fact she was just that.
Genny, who loved her, and was fiercely protective of her lovely foolish mother, didn’t wish to pursue that line of thought. Her mother’s love affairs, deliciously exciting as they were to her, had caused no end of trouble. Felicity, all her life, had just sat back and let people look after her and fall in love with her. First her family and their many relations, then her three husbands-two divorced, one Genny’s father who had named her Giannina, and the last who had left Felicity a respectable widow, saving Genny lots of additional embarrassment at school. Felicity might gladden the eye but she very often left the heart aching, and knowing that had built up certain deep tensions in Genny. She was the man of the house. It sounded odd, but that was how she thought of herself. The Protector.
Felicity was glancing up into her daughter’s eyes, her rosebud mouth pouting. ‘Now Ingo, there’s a man.’
‘He thinks you’re a perfect fool! ‘ Genny said sharply.
‘Darling!’ her mother broke off from her musing. ‘How nasty, and how unlike you.’
‘You know what I mean! ‘ Genny shrugged her shoulders. ‘Ingo Faulkner thinks all women are fools.’
‘You’re much too hard on him.’
‘Isn’t he hard on me?’ Genny challenged. ‘What was it he called me the last time? That crazy revved-up kid. Not even to my face either. Big deal. I only took his wretched horse.’
‘It did throw you, the great brute.’
‘Just a little tumble, I wasn’t hurt. Anyway, it’s a beautiful animal,’ sighed Genny. ‘It’s Ingo I loathe. The more I see of him, the more I want to kick him hard on the shins.’
‘Now that is childish, but I know what you mean, he’s so physical. Remember he’s your cousin too, darling.’
‘Correction, he’s your cousin. Your second cousin, actually. I take after my father.’
‘Dear God. ‘ Felicity’s small face looked distinctly pained. ‘Must you remind me of him?’
‘You could have kept him if you wanted him.’
‘Honestly, darling, if you start that again I shall get up and go. It wasn’t all bad, I’ll admit. All the Italians are madly passionate. Carlo loved me, cherished me. He was frantically in love with me but so jealous, you can’t imagine. It really takes hold of some people and it’s so wearing. The only slight peace I got was when I was carrying you. He was charming then, when I wasn’t even presentable. I suppose he could afford to turn a blind eye. Anyway, I’ve quite forgiven him. You have his beautiful dark eyes and my silver curls-it’s really wildly effective.’
‘It must be, if it persuaded you to try contact lenses.’
‘That was just a little joke!’ Felicity waved her hand. ‘I‘ve done quite all right with my own blue eyes.’
‘Oh, I know you have!’ Genny said violently. ‘No wonder I’ve always acted the ghastly little horror, and it was mostly an act. I had to drive them off some way.’
‘My brave little girl!’ Felicity said fondly, her eyes sparkling with real tears. Genny had indeed been quite thorough in her intentions and at an extremely tender age. ‘And a bluestocking too. ‘ Felicity said, still greatly surprised.
‘No one says bluestocking any more, Flick!’ reproved Genny.
‘I do. I can’t get over it in a daughter of mine. Of course Carlo had a lot of education, it’s necessary for men. Why aren’t you romantic, darling? You should be. What else is a woman born for if not for great romances? All this interest in study disturbs me. I was quite stupid at school, would you believe? I’d lose heart entirely, only you’ve inherited my beauty.’
‘I don’t look very much like you.’
Felicity smiled. ‘You’re too close to me to see it, darling. Others remark on it. Of course you have a look of your dear father and that gorgeous pale olive skin. I’ve always had to keep put of the sun myself. Just a frail little flower with a lifetime in the shade.’
‘Then why go to Tandarro? Goodness knows the sun glitters down there. I’ve never seen such light.’
‘Tandarro is a wonderful place, you know that. My family are proud of their cattle kings.’
‘Black Ingo.‘ mocked Genny.
‘Don’t harp on that-and don’t let him catch you calling him that.’
‘He already has.’
‘You’re not very clever with Ingo,’ Felicity said quite seriously.
‘Really?’ Genny said sarcastically, but she smiled. ‘Why, Ingo-dear me, dear me, I can’t think of a finer, stronger man.’
‘For that matter neither can I. I just hate him.’
‘Well, he doesn’t hate you,’ Felicity said resolutely. ‘Indeed, he was greatly taken with you as a child. All those conversations you had. I can scarcely believe all the unspeakable things you say about one another now. Even if we weren’t beholden to him I don’t like you calling him names, and Tandarro is a haven of peace and beauty. I shall grow strong again. We should be very grateful to Ingo for letting us come.’
Genny turned her face away, swallowing an involuntary exclamation. Maybe Ingo put her in perpetual revolt, but he was her mother’s cousin and, she had to admit, a true friend. No one could make an enemy of Felicity anyway. She was so vague she wouldn’t even recognise one.
‘To think that in a few days we’ll be there.‘ Felicity was enthusing. ‘Thank you again, darling, for saying you’d come with me. I know you wanted to go off to Bali in the uni vacation.’
‘I guess I did.‘ Genny emitted a jagged breath. ‘But the doctor said you needed care. That
was a bad virus. You’re such a slip of a thing it’s hard to realise you’re anyone’s mother.’
‘Oh, Carlo decided that, I didn’t. Of course, darling, I adore you and I did from the moment you arrived, but it didn’t start off that way. I was very delicate as a child. I know you make a joke of it and I know you don’t like to frighten me, but I must be treated as something precious. Why, you’re as wonderful to me as my own Mamma, God rest her soul.’
‘Don’t I know it. ‘ Genny said dryly. ‘I‘m convinced you’d perish without me.’
‘Pretty much, darling. Would you refill my glass?’
‘That’s it. Just the one.’
Felicity stared at her and Genny relented slightly.
‘All right, half way. I’m glad you’re looking forward to Ingo’s company.’
‘He’s been very good to me,’ Felicity sighed, never for one moment mentioning just how good, or the fact Ingo had virtually supported them since poor Hughie died without leaving them secure. Hughie Russell’s - posthumous financial standing had come as a severe shock to Felicity. They had always lived very well, and Hughie had been the last man in the world to deny her anything. No doubt all his efforts on her behalf had brought about his untimely demise. Of course he had been twenty years older, but much too young and dapper to die. She had never loved him, of course. For the first time in her life Felicity had used her head when she married and it hadn’t worked out either. One could fare just as badly being sensible.
‘I just hope I can stick it out. ‘ Genny murmured truthfully.
‘The trouble is, darling, Ingo seems to bring out the worst in you. You really do act like a young hellion sometimes. It must be the tempestuous Italian side of your nature. Even your silver, curls sparkle with rage and your skin runs up red flags. I mean, he’s not too bad really. Even your uneducated eye must be able to see he’s wildly attractive!’
‘Yes, he looks just like a movie star,’ replied Genny.
‘Nothing as silly as that, dear. He’s a cattle man. It’s his whole life, running a great station. I know he can take a very hard line, but the odd thing is that when he puts himself out, he could charm the birds off the trees. He can charm little ole me. ‘
‘Then I suppose we’d better thank God he’s your cousin and he definitely thinks of you as family. An appendage. Responsibility.’
‘I dig you, darling,’ said Felicity. ‘Really you’re funny sometimes!’
‘You’ve made me funny. It’s not easy having an enchantress for a mother.’
‘I’m not a patch on you, darling, and I never was, not even when Carlo made off with me.’
Genny threw back her shining head and gave a lilting little laugh. ‘I can’t accept that. That’s mother-love talking.’
‘I can’t help feeling that neither of us has any vanity.’
‘For what? Gifts from the gods. Beauty can hurt.’
‘It never hurt me,’ Felicity said artlessly, not grasping Genny’s meaning. ‘But then you’re so much more intelligent than. Also, believe me, darling, and I’m not joking, more beautiful. You just haven’t realised it yet.’
‘It’s silly to complain, but I don’t think Ingo wants me out there.’
‘But of course, dear, that’s impossible. Why, Ingo’s letters are full of questions about you.’
Genny rounded on her mother in astonishment, her velvety dark eyes huge. ‘What letters?’
‘Why, the letter the other day. ‘ Felicity said vaguely.
‘I never saw it.’
‘Hasn’t anyone ever told you I’m the head of the house? At least I was on the census form! ‘ Why, Felicity thought, if Genny knew Ingo was paying for her education it would quite drive her towards getting a job; but that was part of the bargain Ingo struck. Genny was to know nothing. Sometimes it occurred to Felicity that Ingo actually liked Genny’s fiery pride. He was quick and ready to take her to task, but he was really the only male discipline Genny had known. Carlo, the great passion of Felicity’s life but nevertheless a traitor, had gone back to Italy after Felicity had left him, threatening to blow his brains out. As it happened he decided to remain on the green earth, and indulged himself in another marriage with a fellow countrywoman. The woods were full of women, as Ingo had pointed out then.
Even beautiful women. He had been pretty cynical even then. Just a handsome boy with a stepmother he detested but who definitely didn’t detest him.
At twenty-three, a divorcee, Felicity had been left rejoicing in a ravishingly pretty little daughter with her father’s thickly-lashed melting dark eyes and the faint dimple in her chin, and had remarried yet another unsuitable type, though his ancestors hailed from the Scottish Highlands; almost a double for Carlo. But even Felicity learned something from both experiences, for when she married again in her mid-thirties she chose a man with infinitely fewer physical endowments than either Carlo or Stewart and a great deal more stability. Hughie had been a fine man and she had treated him with such sweetness and genuine affection that he had never been aware she had never loved him. It was all very sad, because Hughie had shown Genny the same loving indulgence he would have extended to his own daughter. The one marriage that might have worked out, and he had died on herl Could it be she was destined to dazzle men, then destroy them? The thought often kept Felicity luxuriously unhappy.
‘Where have you gone off to, Flick?’ Genny asked tenderly, admiring her mother’s quickly changing, all becoming expressions.
‘I was thinking about Hughie.’
‘Poor old Hughie, bless his heart. Even Ingo approved of him, and that takes some doing.’
‘I made him happy, didn’t I, darling?’
Genny grinned. ‘Indeed you did. Hughie couldn’t have been happier married to Helen of Troy.’
‘You say the nicest things sometimes. I didn’t have to expend myself on Hughie. I’m so frail. When I remember that brute strength of Carlo’s!’
‘That’s going back a bit-I’m twenty years old.’
‘We were talking of your father,’ reproved Felicity. ‘There’s no need to establish your age or mine.’
‘Well, where we’re going we won’t be able to hide anything! They’ve known us too long. Black Ingo used to dandle me on his knee. I must have worn him down; he only wants to turn me over it now.’
‘Small wonder!’ Felicity sniffed her small fastidious nose. ‘I don’t know what either of you are trying to prove, but I want you to behave yourself better this time.’
‘Never simple with Ingo around. He goes out of his way to provoke me.’
‘To a certain degree I have to admit that’s true. Perhaps you bothh require a character analysis. I know I frequently remind you and you don’t like it, but he did save your life.’
‘Then there’s no need for him to act as if that’s what he was put on this earth for! ‘ snapped Genny.
‘I feel sick every time I think of it!’ Felicity moaned, transported back over the years to a time when the small, high-spirited Genny had run straight in front of a galloping horse. Ingo, the only one not frozen with shock, had moved with incredible speed, gathering her up and flinging them both to safety. Genny had been tremendously attached to him then, clinging to him for the rest of the day. It was ridiculous really the way they argued now. The rebellious instincts in Genny were being fed and kept alive by Ingo’s positive male dominance, and the conflict that had been brought on by Genny’s adolescence seemed destined to go on. It almost cast a shadow on Felicity’s feeling of contentment. Genny was stuck in a groove about Ingo, but Felicity felt the familiar rush of pleasure at the thought of seeing him again.
Ingo regarded her with some amusement, she knew, thinking her a frantic butterfly forever attracted towards disaster, which perhaps explained the rather stern line he took with Genny; but Felicity knew, with a mixture of pride and thankfulness, that he regarded them both as special and his inevitable responsibility. Felicity even fancied they touched his heart from time to time, which wasn’t all
that easy.
Ingo, though born to wealth and position and a fine respected name, had been caught in some pretty fierce battles between his parents from his earliest years. The story was familiar. Marianne, his mother, an alien in the vast desert wilderness with only the homestead as a mere pinprick of civilisation, had just got up one morning after twelve years of marriage and decided she could stand the loneliness and the isolation no longer. She had gathered up her son and her daughter and fled Tandarro without stopping, but Marc had caught up with her. A hard and ruthless man when he had to be, Marc had demanded his son, but extended some mercy to Marianne in allowing her to keep their daughter, Patricia. The girl had stayed with her mother.
Ingo had been taken back to the station and reared by his aunt Evelyn, a veritable dragon to Felicity’s way of thinking. Later, Ingo came by a stepmother, a woman he knew for what she was the moment he laid eyes on her. No one could ever take his mother’s place and no one ever tried. So Ingo had grown up a singularly self-reliant young man with indomitable strength and endurance but nothing to give to any woman. It was melancholy, Felicity often considered, for Ingo was a marvellous human being with a perversely strong attraction for the sex he professed to despise. His grey eyes, the ultimate blaze of light in his intensely selfcontained face, darkly tanned by the sun, his sardonic, vaguely disdainful manner, were quite hypnotic.
Felicity had often witnessed Ingo’s turbulent effect on women. That hard, inaccessible look, the smiling look of contempt in his shining pewter-grey eyes, seemed to draw them like moths to a lamp. Except that she really did think of him as family, Felicity might have succumbed herself. Superb arrogance like that got a woman every time. Only Genny was reserved from that quality of cynicism never far from his eyes. Her recurring defiant stances earned some pretty grim words, far more than she asked for, Felicity often thought, but the funny thing was that Ingo was completely involved and far from indifferent to the stormy child Genny often seemed to be, bent rather recklessly on disobeying not just any but all of the Boss’s orders-a kind of rebellion unheard-of on Tandarro where no one would think of anything so foolish or ill-advised.