Her Australian Cattle Baron

by Margaret Way

  “Yes, please,” Jimmy accepted the offer. “I married Marigold because she was pregnant.”

  “We all know that, Jimmy.” Amelia went quickly behind the kitchen counter, intensely conscious of her lack of dress. She needed to change out of her nightwear into something more appropriate. Her nightclothes were too revealing. She located the container of ground coffee, and then began to spoon it into the glass plunger. “Black, white, cream?” She had an idea Jimmy took his coffee black.

  “Black. Thank you, Amelia. I am sorry to barge in on you like this, but I’m at the end of my rope. I’m heartbroken. What I feel seems even to me to be far out of the ordinary. There are lots of reasons for that, I expect. I have problems. Relics of my childhood I can’t seem to shake. I actually think I’m manic-depressive. I yearn for Royce’s respect.”

  Amelia held up a hand. Jimmy looked crushed with grief. “You have his love and loyalty, Jimmy. Count your blessings.”

  Jimmy gave her a sad, penitent look. “I won’t be taking divorce action against Marigold for some time. We have to wait a year anyway. I don’t want to make perfect fools out of either of us.”

  “You won’t be able to live together. You know that. It’s total separation.”

  “I want to go home.” Jimmy spoke so poignantly tears sprang into Amelia’s eyes. In another minute, they would start pouring down her cheeks. She was so sad and tired. She feared for Jimmy. Underneath the rich playboy, he was a vulnerable young man.

  “. . . back to the place where I was born,” Jimmy was saying. “Back to Kooralya. Marigold can tell everyone she hates the Outback. She does, anyway.”

  “That’s your real world, Jimmy,” Amelia said. “It was never knocking around nightclubs with one pretty girl after the other.”

  “Any one of them would have been better than Marigold,” Jimmy said helplessly. “Why didn’t you warn me about her? You’re so clever and beautiful, yet in a weird way she seems to dominate you.”

  Amelia didn’t know why she was so shocked. “You’re right, of course,” she said after a moment’s searing reflection. “My family, my mother and father, me, have fallen over backwards to try to make Marigold happy. We did it every day. I believe it robbed us all of tremendous energy. None of us could change Marigold, or even make a difference. As it was, I’ve always tried to defend her. But that’s all over, Jimmy. From now on, my life is independent of Marigold.”

  “God, I hope you mean that,” Jimmy said.

  Amelia set the coffee cups and saucers down on the black granite counter. “You know I have to give Royce a full report?”

  “Royce wouldn’t accept less.”

  “Don’t I know it!” The coffee had perked. Amelia poured Jimmy a steaming cup of strong black coffee. She added two teaspoons of sugar whether he took sugar or not. She would have to excuse herself for a moment to change. She pulled a small tray from a cupboard, but before she could make the next move, they were both startled by a firm rap on the door.

  “You’re not getting broken into, Amelia, are you?” Jimmy tried to pull himself upright. Dismally failed.

  “I think we both know who it is.” Swiftly she gathered her satin robe around her, cursing the fact, given another few minutes she would have had time to change.

  “The Boss,” Jimmy confirmed.

  Amelia made her way to the door. She felt deeply disturbed. “Who is it?” she called senselessly, thinking this night would bring her yet another load of blame.

  “Who do you think?” A dark, commanding voice answered. “Open up, Amelia.”

  Jimmy, on the sofa, managed to drag himself to his feet like a soldier about to be caught out napping on duty. “It’s Royce, of course,” she flung unnecessarily over her shoulder. She had no alternative but to give him entry. She was utterly fed up with always being caught in what looked like compromising situations.

  “I’ve spent hours doing a futile pub crawl of all the so-called trendy bars,” Royce announced, as he blazed into the hallway with its carved Italian mirror above a mahogany and brass console. “All of them seemed to know James, but claimed they hadn’t seen him tonight. The last bar did.” As he spoke, his dark eyes were sweeping over her, taking in her state of undress.

  Amelia fought to hide her embarrassment. Who was she to blame? A malign fate? Her robe had a silk cord. She seldom bothered with it, allowing the robe to flow free. She was blushingly aware her nightgown did little to hide the shape of her body or her breasts. Her hair uncoiled, fell in thick ribbons over her shoulders and down her back.

  Jimmy called out to them in a hoarse voice. “I’m here, Royce. Amelia was kind enough to let me in.”

  Amelia flinched at the expression that swept over Royce’s face. The sheer awfulness of life!

  “What can I say? Join the queue?” Royce stared down into her eyes.

  Amelia couldn’t bear the heat of her own body. She curled a protective hand over her heart, feeling its warmth. “Jimmy has barely been here ten minutes. I was going to ring you.”

  “What, tomorrow morning?”

  Amelia didn’t reply. She had never received such searing scrutiny in her entire life. “There’s coffee if you want it,” she managed to say, sharply. “I’ll get changed.”

  “When I’ve never seen a nightgown and robe look more sumptuous.”

  “Why, what does Charlene wear to bed?” Amelia flashed back at him, hating the steely expression on his high-boned face.

  “I can’t be sure.”

  Amelia found herself on tiptoe. She leaned right into him. “Bastard!” she whispered very quietly in his ear.

  Then she fled.

  * * *

  When she returned a full ten minutes later, dressed in jeans and a sleeveless top, she found Royce and his half-brother sitting side by side on her sofa. Seen together like that, it was easy to spot the family resemblance: height, build, a certain cast to their features. Jimmy’s colouring was far more subdued. Bright blue Stirling eyes, tawny brown hair the sun had touched with golden tints. They appeared to be at peace with each other. Thank God! Amelia felt a great, coursing relief.

  “Has Jimmy told you all you wanted to hear?” She addressed Royce with no show of hostility.

  “Ah, there you are!” he said with mock welcome. “Jimmy has. He has also sung your praises.”

  “Why shouldn’t he? Jimmy has a friend in me.”

  “He has indeed,” Royce returned suavely, rising to his commanding height. “I’ll take him back with me to the hotel. They can find him a room.”

  “He needs sleep,” Amelia spoke gently, eyeing Jimmy, who was still slumped on her sofa, apparently on the brink of collapse.

  “Royce is taking me home,” he told Amelia, his voice a mere semblance of itself. “I’m so tired of it all.”

  “We’ll find a way to make you feel better,” Royce promised, catching Amelia’s eyes. “Would you mind calling a cab?”

  “No problem.”

  “I’d die for you, Amelia,” Jimmy muttered, as Royce draped a strong arm around him, lending the very necessary support.

  They stood at her door. Two brothers. One as impressive as they come. The other so vulnerable. “Thank you for being so kind to me,” Jimmy said.

  “It was easy, Jimmy,” she said softly. “I’ll go catch the lift for you.”

  “You’ll tell Marigold I’m going home?” he begged.

  Such a stricken face! “Yes, dear,” she said, momentarily touching his cheek.

  “I feel I’m to blame.”

  “No, Jimmy, you’re not!” Amelia said in a voice that held strong conviction.

  She moved off down the hallway to summon the lift to her floor. There was no one around. No witnesses to James Stirling’s near-total breakdown.

  “I’ll come downstairs with you,” she said. The lift had arrived and the two men had moved into it. “I can signal the cab driver.”

  “What would we do without you?” Royce murmured, his brother a deadweight on his arm and shoul
der. “I intend to see Marigold before we leave.”

  “Whatever for?” Amelia suddenly felt icily cold.

  “She is Jimmy’s wife, part of the family.”

  He sounded far from happy with the knowledge.

  On the ground floor, Amelia went on ahead. A cab was standing outside the complex. She ran towards it, calling, “Stirling?”

  “Right, ma’am,” the cab driver confirmed, bending his head towards her. “One of your friends had too many?” he laughed.

  “Actually, he’s had some sad news,” Amelia said, opening the back door.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” The cab driver sounded genuine. He got out of the cab, moving to help the big guy get his drunk pal into the car. “There you go, mate!”

  “Thank you.” Royce acknowledged the help, settling his brother more comfortably. He then shut the back door, watching the driver resume his seat in the cab.

  “Take care, Royce,” Amelia said, on a long, trembling breath.

  Her hair and face glowed in the lights that illuminated the area. She looked heartbreakingly beautiful. No flutters of conscience about Jimmy? No mention of her state of undress when he arrived at the door, the half-naked sensuality that would wipe out any man’s resistance. His arm shot out automatically, locking her to his side. “Good night, Amelia. Thank you for looking after Jimmy so beautifully. He won’t be bothering you again. I can’t say the same for myself.”

  She knew what was coming. She could see the glint in his eyes.

  Her mouth half-parted in futile protest. “Go back inside now,” he said, giving her one hard, memorable kiss. “I’ll wait until you’re in.”

  Colour stained her high cheekbones. Her green eyes sparkled like gemstones. “Jimmy’s demons grew up with him,” she said, with such a mix of sadness and resentment at the way he made her feel. She still felt the touch of his mouth. She would feel his kiss for hours. Only she was no instrument he could play at will.

  “I know that, Amelia. Go on. Go inside. I wish I could say pleasant dreams.”

  “Yours won’t be pleasant either.” Yet she was fighting the helpless urge to turn to him, confide in him. She knew she couldn’t. God knows what might happen if she revealed the shocking truth.

  “There is, of course, more to it,” he said, as though picking up on her wavelength. “I intend to find out.”

  Amelia shivered in the balmy night air. She knew though Jimmy had broken under the strain, Marigold wouldn’t. Marigold’s lack of empathy had always been a great mystery. In a curious way, her lack of empathy was also a strength. She remembered how as a child Marigold didn’t weep. She had frequently called up glistening tears. Requisite tears for a given occasion.

  * * *

  Marigold had a shopping trip planned. She needed to get out. She intended to call on the best jeweller in town. Melly always wore beautiful jewellery. She’d had her ears pierced, so she could wear drop earrings like Melly’s, though most of Melly’s jewellery had been handed down to her. Nothing for Marigold. She wasn’t true family. Just a charity case. They had always dressed her well. She had gone to the best schools, even if she had flunked the university entrance exam. Jeremy had bought her the apartment for a twenty-first birthday present. She was supposed to feel deeply grateful. She didn’t. Life owed her. Besides, Jeremy was a very successful man with a successful man’s income. No skin off his nose.

  Marigold suspected Melly’s beloved Mum and Dad were secretly glad to be rid of her. She wasn’t thick. She knew for a fact Amelia’s mother was on to her, even though the saintly Amelia wasn’t. That’s why she hadn’t invited them to the wedding. She had almost convinced herself Melly was so loyal she would follow her into hell. Melly would never give her away.

  On the other hand, she felt no qualms about messing with Melly’s life. Jimmy’s adoration of her was pitiful. She knew Jimmy’s all-powerful brother, Royce, felt so too. Royce could become her ally. She knew sooner or later, Jimmy would file for divorce. It would be far better if she beat him to it. After all, there was beautiful Amelia, always on the scene, always coming between them. Three people in the marriage. Hadn’t Princess Di said something like that? Of course, Melly was as white as the driven snow, but it was too easy to muddy the waters. Mud stuck, whether it was the truth or not. Marigold had long ago determined it gave her an advantage to be able to lie and lie and get away with it.

  It would have been nice to go on to lunch with a girlfriend, but she was quite aware she wasn’t liked. Well, not by Melly’s many friends. Now that she had money, and plenty of it, she could find some friends of her own.

  The intercom buzzer brought her out of her reverie. Who could that be? She considered not answering, and then decided she would take a peek.

  Royce Stirling!

  Shock-horror.

  Then.

  This was an opportunity to get back at Amelia and Jimmy. A feeling of power surged through her system. She was Mrs. James Stirling. They couldn’t change that. Royce Stirling wouldn’t question her about the baby that never was. Melly wouldn’t give her up under torture. She knew exactly how to play it . . .

  * * *

  The day had started badly. Jimmy, after his drinking binge, had been violently ill. They couldn’t fly home today. He had left Jimmy sleeping it off in bed. Marigold’s apartment complex mightn’t have been as exclusive as Amelia’s, but it was nevertheless a desirable upmarket inner city apartment block.

  Marigold allowed him in, a near-smile sounding in her soft breathy voice. To his mind, Marigold had the air of a street kid more than a gently bred young woman. He hadn’t needed a degree in psychology to gain that view. This was a newly married woman who had miscarried her child on her honeymoon. Sounding close to cheerful was a major feat in his opinion.

  Marigold, looking the picture of health, greeted him warmly. She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Come in, Royce. Come in. You’ve no idea how pleased I am to see you.”

  He followed her into the apartment, noting how stylishly she was dressed, obviously for going out. The same style didn’t extend to her home decorating. The furnishings could best be described as ordinary. No paintings. No flowers. No personal touches. It could have been a rental.

  “I’m so glad you caught me. Ten minutes more and I would have left.”

  “For where, Marigold?” he asked.

  She gave a little shrug. “I have to distract my mind, Royce. You can understand that. I’ve cried so much I simply can’t cry anymore.” She injected credibility into her voice. “Please sit down. Have you come to help me?”

  Royce took the single armchair. “I came to help my brother, Marigold. He’s extremely distressed. I am at your disposal too, of course.”

  “Thank God!” Marigold sank onto the beige sofa close by, with only the scatter cushions adding colour. “I’ve never felt so alone.”

  “You have Amelia.”

  Marigold gave a deep sigh. “If only I did. I love Melly, I really do, but she has caused a great deal of harm to my marriage.”

  Royce kept his tone neutral. “How so?”

  Marigold raised her head, with its crown of soft yellow curls. “You’re a smart man, Royce. A man of the world. You know perfectly well my husband is madly in love with Melly.”

  There seemed to be a coldness, a hardness in her despite the unhappiness in her voice. “So why did you marry him?” Royce asked, keeping his tone non-judgemental.

  Marigold threw up a bejewelled left hand. “I loved him. I still love him,” she cried, sounding infinitely hurt. “Melly doesn’t. This is what she does. She has taken any boyfriend I’ve ever had away from me. I don’t say she plans it. It’s more like she can’t help herself. That’s why I forgive her.”

  “You love her, but you have no hesitation blaming her for the failure of your marriage?” Royce queried.

  Marigold bit her lip, tears spurting into her blue eyes. “And for the loss of our baby,” she said on a broken sob. “It was supposed to be our honeymoon. T
he first time we could be together without Melly, but what did we do? We fought and fought. Jimmy turned incredibly nasty. He didn’t talk to me. He barked at me. He was always so angry. I was no match for him. He missed Melly, would you believe? He missed Melly when we were on our honeymoon. I never had a chance. All I wanted was for us to be happy.”

  “And the baby? Why didn’t you tell us you were expecting? It would have been no big deal, Marigold. We deserved to know. No one outside the family needed to have been told the news.”

  Marigold lifted her head. She spoke in a raw and tortured voice. “Melly has always been my closest advisor,” she confided, as though excusing herself. “She convinced Jimmy and me there was no need to cause upset before the wedding. It would be easy enough to reveal a pregnancy in the months ahead, she said.”

  “And you went along with this?” Royce searched Marigold’s small face. There was a light sweat on her dewy skin. Either she was one of the world’s greatest unsung actresses, or she was telling the truth. Only he couldn’t shake the feeling Marigold was a knowing woman, a crafty woman. She wanted to turn him against her beautiful, clever sister.

  “Jimmy will back my story,” she added, as though she had spotted his scepticism. “Jimmy didn’t want you to know.”

  That much was true. “Was Amelia with you when you miscarried? You would have rung her if you were in any trouble?”

  “I did ring her.” Marigold sounded wrung out. “Then it was all happening.”

  “Where, exactly?”

  Marigold put her two hands over her eyes. “I can’t talk about it, Royce. It’s far too distressing. I had to cope on my own. Jimmy had abandoned me. Melly had a court case. She’s always got a court case.”

  “I find it hard to believe Amelia wouldn’t rush to your aid, or send an ambulance if she couldn’t make it on time.”

  “I was here quite alone.” Marigold spoke with deep sadness. “I miscarried very quickly. You won’t want to hear the details.”

  “I have heard them from my brother.”