by Margaret Way
“With a bit of effort, you can take your life in your hands,” Royce told his brother. “I’m here to help.”
“That’s not how it’s going to be,” James Stirling said, as though he knew something his brother didn’t. “I can see clearly who I am, Royce. As I’ve always said, life would have been a whole lot worse for me and Mum without you. You shielded us from that wretched man. I bet Beelzebub himself escorted him straight to hell.”
Royce cast his half-brother a compassionate sidelong glance. “We’ve done better, Jimmy. We’re better men. But this is all wrong!” Royce clasped his brother tightly on the shoulder. “Does Marigold have something over you? She’s not pregnant, is she? She strikes me as the kind of woman who would consider getting you that way.”
James had a moment of pure indecision. He knew this was the time for him to come clean; to tell Royce everything, but he had learned more of Marigold and her excesses than just about anyone, including Amelia. He genuinely dreaded what Marigold might do if her plans were ruined. Marigold was a very odd young woman with a capacity for cruelty if driven. He felt sure of it. His heart was pumping wildly. He was desperate for his brother’s comfort, desperate to escape his brother’s piercing regard. He had made his decision. He had made his bed. Now he had to lie in it.
“Marigold isn’t pregnant, Royce,” he said, in a voice that even fooled him. “I want to marry her. I’m going to marry her.”
“Hell, you said that like you were saying goodbye,” Royce protested, his strongly defined features drawn tight. “I can’t figure this out at all. There’s no way you can fool me. You’re madly in love with Amelia, not Marigold. You were kissing her like you never wanted to let her go.”
“So?” James gave a crooked smile. “I bet you’d like to kiss her too.”
The words came as a direct hit. “Your golden enchantress, Jimmy,” he said, in a sombre voice.
“Dad used to call your mother ‘his dark enchantress,’ remember?” James responded.
Royce nodded. “Dad made a prison for himself. He locked himself in.”
“Him and his memories,” James said. “He hurt my poor little mother terribly. I guess he hurt your mother terribly too?”
It was issued not as a challenge, but a question that might need to be addressed. Royce looked away across the garden, wondering where Amelia had sought refuge. “My mother was the one who ran off, Jimmy. She didn’t take me with her. She didn’t even contact me afterwards.”
James snorted. “As if she could! We both know Dad was a violent man. He would have killed her. And you. Can’t you see it? Insanely jealous men kill. It happens every day all over the world. It would have made him feel good for a minute. If you can’t figure out me, I can’t figure out you, Royce. Why don’t you contact your mother? You’re the man who can slay dragons.”
Royce didn’t have to search for an answer. “I survived without her. In her way, she was as implacable as Dad.”
James took his courage in hand. “Quite sure about that, are you? I think it’s time for you to go looking for answers, Royce. Your mother might have had help getting out of here, but she never did marry that guy. For a beautiful woman, she has never remarried.”
“Maybe she learned about marriage the hard way.” Royce shrugged. “Anyway, we’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you. I don’t know what you’re doing. I don’t believe for one moment Marigold is the woman for you, but if you’re determined to marry her, there’s always divorce.”
“Thank God for that!” said James, as though he had thought the whole thing out.
* * *
When his brother walked back inside the house, Royce decided on the spur of the moment to follow James’ golden seductress. He walked with his big cat’s tread down the veranda into the dark purple night like a man compelled. This was a woman who had done and was still doing a whole lot of harm. He now had all the evidence he needed to back up his initial strong suspicions.
The warm air was awash with the scent of gardenias, oleanders, frangipani, all sweet and heady. His love for his runaway mother, all mixed up with anger at her betrayal, came and went in cycles. Now suddenly Amelia Boyd’s entry into his life made his locked-down memories flare into life. He bitterly resented the fact men were astonishingly susceptible to beautiful women, astonishingly immune to learning from experience. He found himself wondering whether Amelia Boyd was one of those women far more interested in gaining power over men than giving them power over her. He tried to shake off Jimmy’s comment that he, too, would like to kiss Amelia. If he did, it would be far from love. It would be unequivocal desire. It had penetrated his skin like so many arrows.
He must have walked for a good six or seven minutes. The beauty all around him revealed by the exterior lighting didn’t calm him as it usually did. She couldn’t have found her way back into the house. He would have seen her.
Fruit bats stuffed with mangoes and pawpaws streaked across the night sky and into the small woodland of trees a short distance away from the intensely cultivated main gardens. A lot of attention had been given to the section of the garden he was now skirting. A large pond had been created some four years back with his approval. It was fed by a subterranean spring with its source the Great Artesian Basin, the largest, deepest artesian basin in the world, underlying nearly a quarter of the continent. It was also the only reliable source of fresh water for much of the Outback. The pond’s glittering surface was densely ringed by all manner of ferns and thick clumps of iris and arum lilies growing with their feet in the water.
These were Anthea’s gardens. Anthea’s territory. The gardens kept his aunt happy after she had suffered a doomed love affair in her youth. Anthea’s fiancé had been killed defending a woman, the wife of a native worker, gone berserk on the family’s New Guinea coffee plantation. The loss had been shocking. Anthea had never been the same again. There had been a lot of heartbreak in his family, he thought. Out-of-the-ordinary stuff. Now Jimmy!
He finally sighted Amelia sitting in seclusion at the far end of a tunnelled walkway dripping with morning glories. At the back of his mind, there had been the thought they would seek each other out. There was a tautness, a special awareness between them that had taken root within moments of laying eyes on each other. He was a man who enjoyed women’s company. He’d had his share of affairs, but he had never met the woman to turn his mind to marriage. He knew a lot of people expected him to eventually settle down with Charlene Warrender. He and Charlene had enjoyed an on-and-off-again relationship for some years. Charlene was immensely suitable. Outback born and bred, the daughter of Charlie Warrender, owner of Jambawa station, their closest neighbour to the southeast. He had considerable affection for Charlene—he had known her since they were children—but affection wasn’t the totally irresistible wild burn of passion. He knew in his heart he wanted a great flume of emotion, not affection. He had begun to think he wanted far too much.
* * *
Not you!
Amelia stood up to confront Royce, a violent lurch to her heart.
In the vine-dappled lighting she caught sight of him: tall, incredibly fit, stalking towards her. She felt incredibly tense and nervous. She knew she was in a shameful position. Yet it seemed too much, just too much, for one evening. He must have seen Jimmy kissing her. Now he had come to demand an explanation. Was she supposed to drop to her knees begging his forgiveness? Royce Stirling, self-appointed judge and jury. He had been making on-the-spot judgements his whole adult life.
She felt totally inadequate to deal with him and the devastating situation they were all in. It must have looked bad to him, seeing Jimmy kissing her so passionately. There was Marigold’s adoptive sister and her bridesmaid within the tight half-circle of Jimmy’s arms, betraying everyone’s trust. Guilt, even when she wasn’t truly guilty of any wrong-doing, hit her with excruciating force.
“Well, well, so this is where you’ve hidden yourself away?” he called, moving so quickly he cut off any chanc
e she might take flight. “Don’t run away, Amelia. You and I are going to have a little chat.”
She stood her ground, tossing back her head on its long graceful neck. “You’re not out here to be sociable,” she said. “And I’m not running away.”
“Then you must be completely shameless.” Coming on her like this in the perfumed darkness, he had the insane idea time had stopped altogether. They were alone in the world. Light rays crossed her, giving her hair a rich, golden sheen. They outlined her slender figure, so incongruously dressed in innocent white. So beautiful, yet so morally blemished.
His aura put Amelia on her mettle. She was far from an accommodating ninny. Not with Royce Stirling, master of all he surveyed. “Shame doesn’t come into it,” she said sharply, though to her consternation, her knees felt like they might buckle.
“Really?” There was a cutting edge to his voice. “So James is madly in love with you and all the rest is a façade. Is that it? You’re going to continue your affair even after he marries Marigold?”
She knew she should remain calm for her own sake, but she couldn’t. Not with him. “Don’t be ridiculous!” she flared. “There is no affair.”
Even in the half-light, his striking face showed his disbelief. “So how did you achieve your hold over him? Witchcraft, is that what you used? Jimmy used to talk about his “golden enchantress.” We all thought he meant Marigold, but when we got to meet her a few months back, she didn’t fit that image. A pretty girl, certainly, but someone quite different from an enchantress.”
Amelia looked away. She was deeply reluctant to speak about Marigold, much less Marigold’s problems. “Jimmy’s feelings are a mystery to me,” she said. “What you saw is not as it seemed.”
He clicked his fingers in contempt.
“Jimmy has never before kissed me,” she said, desperate to convince him, even though she knew she had to see it through his eyes. “Can’t you understand? I don’t lie.”
“You do,” he contradicted her flatly. “My instincts were correct right from the start.”
She needed understanding. She wasn’t going to get it. As far as he was concerned, she was a woman with her mind set on conquest. “Then you’re a man who jumps too fast to conclusions. What you saw was in the nature of a goodbye kiss.”
He gave a deep sigh of admiration as if for a magnificent lie. “I hardly think you could call it that. A goodbye kiss is rarely a revelation.”
He spoke with such cool contempt she hardly knew how to respond. She couldn’t run back to the house and call a cab. She might as well have been his prisoner. “I should have stopped him, I know, but I wasn’t really given a chance.” Even to her own ears, her excuse sounded poor.
Royce groaned. “Oh, stop it, Amelia. Stop it, please! I’d say you’re a woman who knows how to lay down the law, so if that’s your explanation, I’m not buying it. You know exactly what you are to Jimmy. His golden enchantress. I’d say you revel in your power over him. Are you going to tell me now you love him?”
She threw up her hands. “No. No. No! Of course, I don’t. Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t know about love?” She knew the sensible course was to stop right there, but to her peril, she was too far gone.
Royce could feel his temper rising to the insistent drum of his heart. “You don’t know a damned thing about me.”
“And you don’t know a thing about me, either,” she retaliated. “What I do know is you have never given your mother a chance.” It was delivered like a strong accusation. He towered over her—a man’s height and strength could be so intimidating—but she continued to stare up at him, her emotions on the boil. “Did you judge her like you’re judging me?” she challenged.
For an instant, he felt she had gained the whip hand. Clever, so clever! “That is none of your business. I remind you you’re a guest here,” he said in his most formidable voice.
“Then don’t you have a duty to be courteous to your guests? I’m not so dense I failed to miss the fact you didn’t want me here.”
He wanted to be away from her, but the way he was feeling prevented him from turning on his heel. “Perhaps you can clarify what we heard at dinner? Your parents chose to go on holiday to Italy over attending my brother’s and Marigold’s wedding, or Marigold decided there was no place for your parents in it.”
A feeling of utter defeat came over her. “Something like that.”
“Well, well!” he said. “Doesn’t Marigold worry you?”
“She exaggerates.”
“I must meet your parents,” he said.
“They’re wonderful people. They’ll be stunned when they hear about the wedding.”
“Surely you should have told them?”
“Can we stop now?” she said. “After Marigold’s parents were tragically killed, my parents, close friends, adopted Marigold. You know that much?”
“Of course. It sounds like Marigold didn’t deserve her adopted parents.”
Amelia shook her head. “No point in talking about it. What’s happened, happened. Marigold needs time to mature.”
“So what’s your excuse? You’re taking your revenge?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Revenge? I’m no vengeful person. Maybe you are?”
“News to me.”
Amelia felt like she was being plunged into a nightmare. She had to cling fast to her self-control, only she couldn’t, he so rattled her. “Just about the whole country knows your story,” she said, even knowing it was ill-advised. “You are Outback royalty. There’s a whole mystique attached to our cattle barons. I’m certain you’ve never considered asking your mother her reasons for leaving?”
Damn you, he thought. He had considered it a million times but he could never bring himself to do it. His mother hadn’t even sent him so much as a note. She could have sent letters to him through his school, even university. “Might I remind you we’re not talking about me,” he said, very coldly indeed, his emotions on a knife’s edge. “I know exactly what you’re doing. You’re trying to turn the tables.”
Amelia’s breath caught in her throat. “I’m sorry.” She dropped her head in apology. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you about your mother, but you’re making me so angry. I have no romantic interest whatsoever in Jimmy. I promise you. Our only relationship has been friendship.”
He too was making efforts to calm himself. She couldn’t have been angrier than he was. He saw that. Only no one, absolutely no one, caused him to lose his composure. This woman was having no difficulty at all. “I can’t believe you.” There was a hard nuance in his voice. “There had to be a good reason for James to have acted the way he did. That wasn’t some parting kiss with all necessary restraint. Jimmy is marrying Marigold, yet he was holding you, the bridesmaid, like he never wanted to let you go. I’m amazed you’re trying to suggest something different. You must know you’re playing a dangerous game.”
Her head drooped like a flower on its long stalk. She was so weary of it all. Weary of Marigold. Weary of Jimmy. “The challenge for you is to find out the truth. It seems there is nothing I can do to convince you. I’ve always known Jimmy is attracted to me. There, I’ve said it. But I’ve never taken any real stock of it. I have never given him the slightest encouragement.”
“So why didn’t you rebuff him?” he asked, aware his emotions were fast arriving at the point of consuming him.
“Okay, I breached the rules. I’m not at all happy about it. But sometimes . . . sometimes . . . kindness prevents one from—”
“Amelia, stop,” he ordered. This unwelcome desire for her was eating away at the self-control he took such pride in. He could smell her subtle fragrance, feel the heat off her graceful body in her gauzy dress. A breeze had sprung up, lifting the long diaphanous skirt, sending long locks of her hair cascading over her shoulders. He realized she was as angry as he was. Angry at being caught out, as illicit lovers were so often caught out.
Despite his long-entrenched sense of caution, she
appeared to him as the most thrilling representation of her sex. It should have hardened him against her, yet it was having the opposite effect. To combat it, he spoke too harshly. “This has to come to an end,” he warned. “James is hell-bent on marrying Marigold for his own peculiar reasons. Your adopted sister, I might point out. Where’s the loyalty, Amelia? You mightn’t want any binding relation with my brother, but you’d better forget all about keeping up the association. If you disregard what I’m saying, I can and will make things very difficult for you.”
A shadow crossed her face as she moved closer to him. She hadn’t intended to do so. Or perhaps she did? “Am I supposed to be afraid of you? Am I supposed to break out in a cold sweat?’
He felt the blood rush to his head. Hot. Swift. Fierce. “I’d advise you to listen,” he repeated. “You have to be very careful. Many eyes will be upon you. Upon you, James and Marigold. You would have to see very clearly Marigold can’t hold a candle to you in the looks department. I hope you’re not going to upstage her.”
“God, you’re a hateful man,” Amelia exploded.
“I wish I knew how you can look and sound so innocent and be so damned guilty,” he returned by way of challenge.
The very air around them seemed to have caught fire. She gave him the only answer she knew. One that would offend and shock him as he was offending and shocking her. “And you had better be careful you don’t turn into your father.” After the words were out of her mouth, she took fright. She had taken a step to the very verge.
The pulse of his heart was loud in his ears. Myriad scents were streaming towards them. Gardenias. Tropical roses. Jasmine. Innumerable heat-loving plants. Soothing, but they had no calming effect. She had pushed him too far. This was the way she worked her spells. “I know what you are.” His low-pitched voice was almost a panther’s growl. “And you’re very, very good. I’m nothing like my father. You won’t find anyone to tell you differently. What I am is head of the family. You won’t achieve anything setting yourself against me. I’ll make sure you fail.”