by Various
“Who said marriage was easy? You know my father has been married three times.”
“If you can’t make it at your third attempt I guess you never will,” he returned sardonically. “Oscar appeared to have been very happy with his Lillian.”
“She was a lovely, gentle person,” Olivia said. “She never had good health. We all mourn her but I wouldn’t be in the least surprised if my father remarries at some time in the future. He hasn’t run out of…energy.” She meant sexual as much as everything else. “People don’t really change.”
“I’m not about to agree. Not as yet. You won’t know yourself by the time you’re ready to fly home. Sometimes the mistakes we make in life serve to help us to see more clearly. Has any one man, outside your father, made you dreadfully unhappy?”
She gulped in a breath. “What do you mean, outside my father?” She wasn’t ready to confront the whole issue head-on with this big, powerful Australian. “I love my father.”
“Of course you do. But you did let it slip he wasn’t always there for you.”
She looked down at her hands. They were locked betrayingly in her lap. “I do recognise the fact he has always had to work extremely hard, as you made it your business to point out, but I would imagine you as your father’s heir were always kept in the loop. You were the heir apparent always in training. Men rule the world,” she said with sharp disapproval. “It will never change.”
“Oh, come on, Olivia!” he chided her. “More and more women in all parts of the world—where they’re terribly oppressed and go in fear of their lives—are standing up and fighting from their corners. Even when they stand alone they cry out for freedom and justice. A lot of them are winning, as they thoroughly deserve to. More and more inspirational women are coming into the forefront of public life. That is as it should be. I grant you the revolution is taking overlong but a lot of women are perfectly happy to let men run the world for them. It’s in the very nature of man to lead. In the nature of man to defend his own—his wife, children, family, country. Our women are joining the armed forces in greater numbers. They’re needed. They have special skills. They go into the war zones, but the brass don’t really want to risk pushing their young women into the front line.”
“Even so, they get killed,” she said sadly. “You think I’ve lived a useless, overindulged life, don’t you?”
His expression was serious. “The more I get to know you, Olivia, the more I realise it hasn’t been all that easy for you. But you know, as I know, you’re capable of taking on much more fulfilling work than what you’ve been doing up to date. I wonder you haven’t asked your father for a place in one of his many enterprises?”
“You think I haven’t?” It was a cry from the heart.
“And he said no?” His brows drew together. Marigole had never shown the slightest interest in McAlpine business affairs. A big disappointment to him. Her only interest had been to spend the money, which she did so lavishly he had been forced to rein her in.
“I don’t think he even heard me. It was sufficient for me to stay at home, perform my public duties and be there for my sisters. I was also on hand to act as his hostess when Lillian wasn’t well enough, which was often.”
“Poor little rich girl. One of the jeunesse dorée.”
“The gilded youth. That’s the way the paparazzi see us. Bella, in particular. She’s so beautiful and glamorous and out there!”
“So that’s why you play down your looks? So there’s no competition between you and your twin?”
She was genuinely shocked. “There is no competition. Why ever would you say that? I’m quite happy to see Bella shine. Bella can make or break a function simply by turning up or not.”
“I do understand Bella is the family wild child,” he said. “The ‘party queen’—don’t the press call her that? I spoke to her at the wedding. She’s very glamorous, but she’s no more beautiful than you are. The most significant difference is your twin goes all out to dazzle, while you settle for a very dense smokescreen. Maybe it didn’t help that you had to play big sister to your siblings? You should have been out and about enjoying yourself, not taking on much too demanding a role for your years and inexperience. Both of you could be crying out for attention and not fully realising it. Ever think of that?”
“If I have, I’m not about to say.”
“Don’t need to. Having everything material in life is no guarantee of happiness. I was blessed with a great childhood. I had all the love and stability in the world. That’s a priceless advantage in life. I’m very worried about my daughter. Georgy used to be a quiet, studious, very respectful child. Sadly that’s no longer the case. She’s full of anger and she’s taking less and less trouble to hide it.”
Olivia started wondering if she was going to be on the receiving end of adolescent rages. “Perhaps she’s still struggling with the divorce?”
“A powerful disruption. Sad to say, Georgy and her mother don’t have a good rapport. It has everything to do with Marigole, not Georgina. Marigole is one of those women who dote on their sons. Such women can’t seem to cope with daughters. Here, I think, Oscar shines. He loves you all. With my ex-wife and me, everything changed after Georgy was born. My family was thrilled with our perfect little girl. Marigole saw having a daughter as a failure. She wanted to bear a son and ‘get it over.’ Her words. She didn’t want any more children. She found childbirth an excruciating experience never to be repeated.”
“Perhaps she was frightened? Understandable.”
“What she was frightened of was losing her figure,” he answered grimly. “I’m telling you all this because you need to know. And there is the strong possibility someone along the way is bound to tell you.”
“She can’t be that shallow,” Olivia, the feminist, retorted. “Maybe you couldn’t love her the way she wanted?”
Try cutting him down to size.
“You’re quite right, Olivia.” He spoke as if applauding her. “I had a problem with that. We all want to love and be loved. That’s what it’s all about.”
“Love does make the world go round.” She wondered what it would be like to have an intense and loving communion with this man. Marigole was a bit of a mystery.
“It’s our loved ones we strive for. Men throw themselves into their work to look after their families. Women run the home and take on part- and even full-time jobs. It’s all for the common good. A man and woman plan their journey through life. I did believe myself in love with Marigole when I married her. I know you’ve got the wrong idea. It’s in the condemnatory way you look at me out of those blue eyes. You can imagine my shock when the period of infatuation wore off. How did the beautiful, charming young woman I married turn into someone else? Was it me? Were my expectations too high? When I came to the full realization Marigole didn’t love our daughter, it destroyed what was left. I hung in as long as I could. I had been brought up to believe marriage was for ever. But there was only one answer really. Divorce. We had to go our separate ways. Marigole doesn’t want any more children. But I certainly do.”
A swarm of butterflies fluttered in her breast. “A son, an heir?” What would it be like to go to bed with this man? Even the thought had the blood rushing to her head. To bear him a son! For a moment she was astounded at her own sensuality.
“A son, sure,” he said. “But I’ll take whatever heaven sends us.”
“Us? You have a woman in mind?” In the inner most recesses of her heart how she envied this woman. It came as a revelation, profoundly shocking her. She didn’t even like him.
Don’t give us that!
“I hadn’t until you showed up.”
She was so stunned, she stuttered. “You c-can’t mean…You c-can’t be—” She broke off in utter confusion as she encountered the wicked glitter in his golden eyes. “Why do I always fall into the trap?”
“I don’t know, Olivia.” He gave her a twisted smile. “But you do.”
Chapter Five
WHERE were they, the Garden of Eden before the fall? Olivia walked ahead of him, breathing in the crystal-clear air, so pure and bracing. This was the most romantic spot she had ever been in. The dappled sunlight on her upturned face was as warm and intoxicating as a kiss. Kiss? Kisses? Something had drastically altered her mindset. She was becoming extremely susceptible to the world of the senses. It had much to do with McAlpine. The sheer physical presence of him. She had the grace to admit that. He was the only man she had ever met who could dazzle her with his sexual radiance.
You should be very concerned about that.
She had taken her inner voice along for the walk with them.
For McAlpine’s part, he appeared to be enjoying wandering around with her. That alone was giving her a huge buzz. Hugely unfamiliar for her—it had to be said. Surely her responses, however ill-advised, went a way to proving she wasn’t frigid—or at least glacial. Hang on, he had called her that in Scotland. The cheek of him. Then as now the sheer audacity of the man took her breath away.
Of course, the tropical heat had to be factored in. It was luscious, thawing her cold-climate blood and causing her to act with unprecedented abandon. Before her, large brilliantly coloured butterflies sailed languorously. Her light footsteps crunched down on a thick ground cover of dry leaves, twigs and a wide scattering of tiny little wildflowers in the cool range of colours that showed their daisylike faces above the sandy white soil. Everything seemed so much more vivid than usual. She thought the scene would be forever etched on her mind. That and the man who so nonchalantly was following her up. He might have been a lion on the prowl her heart was pounding so fast.
She realised she was moving a bit too quickly, getting way ahead of him instead of walking companionably alongside. Why? It wasn’t a chase. She wasn’t being pursued. Yet even the thought of a pursuit thrilled her. One could turn into a totally different woman with the right man. She was worrying that that man was McAlpine. She dared not get involved with him. But in its way it was rather wonderful to feel the way she did.
You could be courting disaster. Think about that.
Impossible to get away from the warning voice. Her father had sent her here to get a more insightful view of herself. In other words, find enlightenment.
Does anyone actually do that? Did Daddy for that matter?
All she knew was that she was undergoing a rapid change.
For better, or worse, Olivia?
Oh, shut up!
It seemed inconceivable to her so much lushness could co-exist with the sun-scorched grasses of the savannah and the terracotta plains. One could acquire a horde of worldly goods but nothing could compare with the matchless beauty and the deep spiritual power of nature. The full shade was blissful. Surely her wounded soul was on the mend? Her fall from grace had upset her more than anyone could know. That terrible row with her dearest Bella, her other half, her twin. Their rows had been so rare that the way they had gone at each other that terrible night—one might almost call it a catfight—had shocked them both to the core.
Even the thought of her twin made the tears spring to her eyes. But today the tears were mixed with delight. What had happened to her, what had happened to her family—the public disgrace—was starting to fade. Kalla Koori was a new world, a different universe. The whole atmosphere freed her up.
“This place looks pristine,” she called back happily to McAlpine, waiting on his answer.
“Because of its extreme isolation.” He watched her fling out her arm in a sweeping gesture, her expression so joyous he caught his breath. It was like seeing the petals of a budded pink rose slowly unfurl. Here was a woman ready to undergo a transformation. All she had to do was throw off the constraints of the past. A wedge of sunlight fell across her, turning her hair to spun gold. In her animation, she looked staggeringly beautiful. He had to take several deep breaths. Complications simply weren’t on the agenda.
“Untouched since the Dreamtime!” Enchantment was in her voice. “I love that description—the Dreamtime—don’t you? What a beautiful way to express it.”
“I think so.” He was still a short distance behind her, aware he was experiencing a lightness of spirit he hadn’t felt in years. She might be overly conscious of her patrician background—a Balfour of Balfour Manor—but they shared similar feelings about a lot of important things. It was a source of deep gratification that she loved this place as he did. The beauty and power of nature had been quite beyond Marigole’s understanding. Marigole only found herself in the big cities of the world.
All around them were beautiful trees of different heights and foliage. Olivia studied the striking patterns of the various barks. Most of these trees were unfamiliar to her. Towering palms trees dominated, some with slender trunks, others more substantial, grander. She saw several species of acacia. Great spiky pandanus trees and tall aquatic plants framed the crystal-clear ponds that lay at their feet. The ponds now in clear view were surprisingly large, isolated one from the other by stretches of pure white sand and intermittent silver-grey boulders.
“Lubra Lakes.” An element of excitement was in her voice. She understood immediately this was a special place. Mystical in character. Each great pond glittered with a mirrorlike intensity, the colour a uniform deep emerald green. Some of the graceful gums that bent their heads over the pools were draped with vines bearing exquisite red-orange throated flowers that were so sweetly scented she thought the fragrance ought to be bottled.
“Enjoying yourself?” His tone was indulgent.
“I’m having a great time.” She turned back to him, her normally contained expression lifted into radiance. “This is the loveliest place. We might be visitors to an ancient cathedral.”
“Which is why I brought you here.” He moved with sure-footed grace down the coarsely grassed slope. “Tell me, do you still feel punished for being sent here?”
She felt her cheeks pink. “Actually, I’m asking myself why I ever worried.”
You should!
OK, she had to trust in her common sense. There was no future in this adventure as far as she could see. She was to return home. McAlpine would remarry, hopefully this time happily. She was as sure as she could be of anything that he wouldn’t have his work cut out finding another wife. Apart from the obvious wealth, he was such an arresting man with a presence and air of command that went far beyond his years. His powerful body, so athletic, gave off remarkable energy. In that way he fitted into the same mould as her father. Both of them magnetic men.
Even thinking it, she was overcome by an extraordinary indolence. She didn’t wonder at its source. He was standing right beside her. She wanted to crumple gracefully onto the sand, then lay back against its yielding warmth. Once there she would fix her eyes on him…lift a hand, beckon him, allurement in her eyes. She knew with every fibre of her being she could count on him to be everything a woman could want in a lover. She had given up hoping for that. In Scotland, increasingly thrown off balance by him, she had decided wrathfully he was anything but her type. How different it was here, on his own land.
Your physical attraction to him was always there.
Now came profound understanding.
Her inner voice crashed in with a warning.
Do you honestly think you’d be a match for him?
Probably not. But no other man had put her in a fever, or caused a tsunami of sensation. She was floundering in the giant swells.
“So what did you have to worry about?” McAlpine was asking. His expression suggested he recognised she was falling out of character. Or the cool, self-assured character she liked to present to the world.
Are you going to pull yourself together?
She chose not to listen. Instead she inhaled deeply, bending to pluck a wildflower. “I did entertain a few concerns we mightn’t get on. That and the prospect of loneliness, of course. The station is very isolated, vast and near empty of humans. I’ve been thinking of how the men and women on the First Fleet must have felt when
they arrived in the Great South Land. A glorious blue harbour to confront them, but beyond that an enormous wilderness—an island continent unlike anything they had ever seen—only a handful of miles beyond their small settlement the impassable Blue Mountains. I call that daunting. I come from a small overcrowded island. Enormous open spaces such as you have here can be overwhelming. My life has been so very different.”
“Very structured,” he agreed. “But please don’t forget it was the men and women of the tiny British Isles that opened up this vast country and colonised it. My ancestors among them. That took real guts.” He removed the pretty little wildflower from her hand, then pushed it into her hair. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?”
“In a way.” She wouldn’t have to work hard to turn him into the object of a hopeless passion.
Don’t show agitation. It means nothing. He doesn’t fancy you. This crazy rush of emotion is all on your side.
“What way?”
She didn’t know how to respond.
“Olivia?”
She shook back her hair, dislodging the flower. “Nothing serious. But I know I irritate you and you can’t deny it.”
His eyes gleamed pure gold. “All human beings irritate one another from time to time. I’m more impatient of the fact you underestimate yourself and your worth. The more I get to know you, the more I see beneath the ultra-cool pose, where may well lay chronic loneliness. You could throw in a dollop of insecurity.”
He was looking at her steadily, openly challenging her, but she could only feign a nonchalant shrug. “You must have defective reasoning powers if you think I’m lonely or insecure.” It seemed imperative to get back to her old form.
He appeared to acknowledge just that. “Olivia, I don’t want you to feel threatened by anything I say. I’m merely pointing out you spend a lot of time protecting your image. Be yourself. That’s my advice. Your real self, like you are today. Don’t shut life out. It has to be lived. We shouldn’t die pondering and mourning all the things we didn’t do for want of a certain courage. Reach out. Few amongst us haven’t been hurt, but we have no option but to live in hope.”