by Various
“Oh, goody!” Georgina surprised everyone, including herself, by holding tight to Olivia’s hand “You know what it means.” She fastened her eyes on Olivia’s serenely beautiful face. “It means I’m really grown up.”
“Of course you are.” Olivia gave the small hand in hers a reassuring squeeze.
Bessie came to her door with a beautiful, brilliantly coloured parrot sitting happily on her shoulder.
“Oh, there you are! Come in.” Olivia was setting out a choice of evening dresses on the bed.
“Don’t worry. He ain’t stayin’.” Bessie went to the open doors that led onto the garden, sending her feathered friend on his way. Bessie had no task for the evening. As a tribal princess she wasn’t expected to wait at table. Bessie’s job was to offer guidance in any number of capacities.
“So take a look,” Olivia invited, more at home in Bessie’s company with every passing day.
“Let’s see now!” Bessie carefully examined all three dresses, staying quiet as she did it. Olivia had chosen her “best black” despite McAlpine’s scoffing, a pair of silk-satin evening trousers—trousers suited her—in a deep amethyst that had a matching bloused top and, lastly, a sapphire-blue two-piece outfit that she thought was maybe a little overkill for tonight. After all, she was a girl who had spent her life trying to deflect attention from herself.
The third outfit consisted of a long skirt, and a camisole top that hung from shoestring straps. There was a wide sash to match. It looked very nice on her but the cami was a bit on the bare side. She really should have had the straps shortened so the vee didn’t dip into her cleavage. Not that there was that much of it. But enough. How many times had Bella told her she was jeopardising all her chances? What, by giving peeks of her breasts to potential admirers? Bella was the Lorelei. Not a role that suited Olivia.
“Why don’t we have a little fun?” Bessie suggested. She began to sing something that sounded like an advertising jingle and, in fact, was. “This goes with this and that goes with this…” As she sang, she began switching the two-piece outfits around on the bed. “You wanna look your best?” She shot a questioning glance at Olivia.
“I don’t want to put Mrs McAlpine’s pretty nose out of joint,” Olivia said wryly. “I’m the hired help.”
“What did yah think of her?” Bessie snorted like a brumby.
“Yes, well…”
“She don’t bring the best outta people,” Bessie said sagely. “Now, Livvy, there are two ways to go. My way. And your way. I can’t ever get to wear things like this in me whole life, but I know. I know colour. I say the amethyst evenin’ pants paired with the Ulysses-butterfly-blue top. Show off yah beautiful eyes. Yah got such a narrow waist…make a big bow with the sash.”
Olivia stood quietly considering. “Right-o, Bessie,” she said finally, tapping Bessie lightly on the shoulder. “I’m happy to go your way. I trust you.”
“Trust very important in life,” said Bessie. “By the way, got something for yah.” She dipped a hand into the voluminous pocket of her hand-painted skirt. “To you it’s a charm. To me it’s magic handed down from the Ancients. It’ll protect yah, my lovely Pommy friend.”
“From what, Bessie?” Olivia felt a tiny shiver of alarm. “Do you think I need protecting?”
“Jus’ to be on the safe side,” Bessie answered mildly, handing Olivia a highly polished oval stone, some two inches in length and almost as wide. It was flashing exquisite iridescent colours that included blue, blue-green, violet-blue and amethyst. Someone had set the piece in a silver bezel with a silver chain fixed to the back, so it could be worn as a necklace.
“But, Bessie, this is beautiful!” Olivia began to examine the crystal in detail. Obviously it had a spiritual quality for Bessie. She thought she felt some of it herself as she stroked the crystal with her forefinger.
“Come on. Show me. Put it on.” Bessie combined gentleness with what Olivia now recognised as inherent authority.
“Heavens, Bessie, you sound really worried.”
“Don’t want no one messing yah up,” said Bessie, standing back to scrutinise the effect. “That’s exactly right. Knew it would. Help yah go towards the light. Think of it as a spiritual guide. Touch it often.”
“But surely you want it back, Bessie.” Olivia was near moved to tears by Bessie’s caring and concern. “It must mean a lot to you.”
“I give it to you. Our paths cross for a reason, Livvy. Never doubt it.”
Olivia was beginning to think Bessie was right. She felt a mad urge to ask Bessie to arrange a magic spell so McAlpine would fall in love with her. She didn’t have the slightest doubt Bessie could.
Bessie wasn’t her only visitor. Georgina came to her room just as Olivia was planning on checking on the child to see if she was happy and had everything she needed. It had been a considerable coup choosing the Persian room, something she would have adored herself at Georgina’s age, for Georgina had shown great excitement at being allowed to occupy the room she saw “fit for an Arabian princess.” It had a remarkable domed ceiling, a mosaic of brilliant colours, wooden shutter doors carved with the Islamic-star grid, a very beautiful antique Persian rug, a huge four-poster bed and soft furnishings in a kaleidoscope of colours.
Of course, Olivia had checked with McAlpine when he was working in his study, which would have found favour with his father. It was so much the gentleman’s club in style and furnishings, it really demanded a dress code. He had lifted his dark auburn head as she entered, albeit with that big-cat gleam in his eyes. She’d had another daydream about him lately…pouncing…licking her all over…
“Now this is a pleasant surprise!” He closed a thick file and set it aside. “What can I do for you, Olivia? Race it by me. Not a lot of time.” He beckoned her to lose herself in one of the man-size leather armchairs.
“I propose putting Georgina into a different room,” she told him as though not expecting to encounter opposition. Neatly she crossed her slender legs at the ankle.
“Her usual bedroom not good enough?”
“It’s very nice,” she conceded graciously. “But at twelve years of age she would have outgrown it.”
He sat back, locking his two hands behind his head. “Marigole herself did the designing.”
“I guessed that. Your ex-wife is a woman of considerable style. Bu she would have designed it with her little girl in mind. Time passes. Georgina is now a young lady.”
“So what exactly have you got in mind?”
“I thought the Persian room. At least, that’s what I call it.”
Amusement bracketed his mouth. “That was my mother’s plan.”
“Really?” Her face turned incandescent. “I’d so like to meet your mother.”
“And it may well come to that, Ms Balfour. The Persian room, you say!” He took a moment considering. “Who am I to go against you? The room is strewn with valuable antiques. I’m sure you noticed, just as I’m sure you were used to a whole lot grander as a child.”
“You’re concerned your daughter might damage them?” She lifted delicately arched brows several shades darker than her hair.
“Well, she has been tossing a few things around of late, but everything can be replaced. My daughter can’t. As long as she’s happy there, that’s all that matters. I would have thought, myself, it was a bit overwhelming for a youngster.”
“Trust me. As you say, I’ve slept amid grandeur.” Olivia spoke entirely without pretension. That was the way her life was. “I’m sure your daughter is a highly intelligent, thinking child. If for some reason she doesn’t want to be there, I can make alternative arrangements. Her usual room needs to be done over from scratch. Georgina is ready to move on.”
McAlpine threw up his hands in feigned dismay. “If only you hadn’t mentioned moving on, Ms Balfour,” he cried. “I must tell you, I dread to lose you.”
If only that were true!
“Everything OK, Georgy?” Georgina, far from being difficult as Oli
via had feared, was acting like a well-brought-up young girl, requesting Olivia call her by her nickname. “I was just coming along to see if you were happy.”
“Oh, I am! I love the room you’ve given me. I love what you’ve done with the flowers.” Georgina was dressed in a pretty white nightgown with a matching robe, her long hair brushed to a high sheen. “You’re really nice, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely!” Olivia smiled at her. “I have seven sisters, you know. All younger than me. That means I got the role of big sister.”
“I bet you’re a lovely sister. Very kind.”
“I try to be, Georgy. Do please sit down. What do you think of my outfit?” The child had begun studying Olivia like a dresser trained to give a very difficult mistress just the comment required. “Bessie helped me with it.”
“Bessie?” Georgy’s silky eyebrows shot up. “Was she here?”
“About an hour ago. I have great faith in Bessie’s sense of colour.”
“You’re honoured,” Georgy said sincerely. “Did Bessie give you that sparkling necklace? It’s some sort of crystal, isn’t it? It’s sending out coloured rays. Most probably, it’s magic. It looks amazing! Better than diamonds. Anyone can have diamonds. Bessie is a princess in her own tribe. Her real name is Eerina.”
“But that’s lovely.” Olivia looked up. “It suits her much better than Bessie.”
“I know. One of the elders in her family was a kurdaitcha man. Do you know what that means?”
“Sorcerer?” Olivia took an educated guess.
Georgy nodded, impressed. “They’re invisible to their enemies. They wear special slippers made out of emu feathers. The kurdaitcha man is very powerful. He’s like James Bond. He’s licensed to kill.”
“Good grief!” Olivia mimed a freak-out.
“A sorcerer can sing a man to death,” Georgy continued, thrilled with her captive audience. “He can send his spirit form anywhere in a whirlwind. They know all about magic. So does Bessie, but she won’t let on.”
“Good thing we’re her friends,” Olivia commented, enjoying the sound of Georgy’s silvery peal of laughter. “So what’s your verdict on my outfit? It was Bessie’s idea to mix and match.”
The brightness drained out of Georgy’s face. “Mummy is going to be very jealous,” she warned. “Are you Daddy’s girlfriend?”
She should be so lucky! “Lord, no! It’s just as your father said. I’m here on a study tour.”
“But everything about you says you’re rich!”
“My father is rich, Georgy.” Olivia didn’t mention her healthy trust fund. “I haven’t had a real job up to date. Listen, can you keep a secret?” Suddenly she wanted to be truthful with the child.
“A secret?” Georgy’s huge eyes turned to saucers.
“Trust is important. I trust you, Georgy.” Trust made vulnerable people feel stronger she had found.
Georgy looked greatly heartened. “Are you going to be Daddy’s girlfriend?” She sounded as if she didn’t mind.
She hoped Georgy wouldn’t notice her flush. “No, nothing like that. I did something that greatly upset my father. So I’m rather on the outer. My father wanted me out of the country for a while. Lying low, I suppose you’d call it.”
“I can’t believe you would make such a mistake. You look like you’ve never made a mistake in your whole life.”
“That’s only at first glance. I’m not nearly as sure of myself as I might appear. I’m two people really.”
“Oh, yes, I know!” Georgy began to rock herself back and forth. “So am I. There’s the person you want to be and the person you’re supposed to be.”
“Exactly. I knew you’d understand perfectly. So now you know my secret. I’m here to pull up my socks and do better. That was the challenge my father handed down.”
“He doesn’t sound like a pleasant man, your father?” Georgy advanced an opinion.
“He’s a very important man. A man of consequence. The head of a dynasty. It makes for being prideful, controlling. Much is expected of him. He expects much of us. Me, in particular, because I’m the eldest.”
“So what did you do?” Georgy cast around in her mind for a social disaster. “Did you fall down drunk at a nightclub?”
“Never got round to that one, Georgy. I’m a staid person, really. But I have a twin, Bella. We love each other dearly. We rarely have words. But one night at a big gala ball we got into a fight. Wrong time, wrong place. Sadly we were overheard by a journalist who managed to get it on to the front page of his newspaper. My father is a proud man from an old illustrious family. He doesn’t take kindly to being publicly humiliated.”
“But that doesn’t make sense!” Georgy was clearly on Olivia’s side. “You and Bella had a fight. Was it a catfight? Can’t imagine it with you. Were you pulling each other’s hair out, swearing, saying four-letter words?”
“Dear heaven, no!” Olivia shuddered. “But it was a family matter that should never have seen the light of day.”
“Rather like Daddy and Mummy’s divorce,” Georgy said sadly. “There was a lot about it in the newspapers. I hated it. All the kids knew. Mummy actually told a newsreader she was going to take Daddy for all he was worth. Isn’t that disgusting? One kid said he had too much anyway. Mummy said things about him I knew weren’t true. I love Daddy best in the whole world. My mother doesn’t need me or want me. She doesn’t like the way I’m twelve, nearly thirteen, and she’s thirty-eight. She hates getting older. I must remind her of what she used to look like. You’d think Mummy’s sort of woman would want a daughter. The girly-girly thing. But she doesn’t want me. She said if she had given Daddy a son the marriage would never have broken up.”
Dear heaven, fancy laying that on a child! Olivia was appalled. “Do you believe that, Georgy?” She gave thanks her father had never bemoaned the fact he didn’t have a son. Being her father he might yet get around to fathering one. Her father wasn’t cured of beautiful women by a long shot.
Georgy turned sad eyes on Olivia. “I don’t know what to believe. Why should she say such a thing?”
One possible answer was she was terribly callous. “But you asked your father?”
“Daddy always says the same thing. He adores me. He wouldn’t change me for anyone else in the world.”
Good for him!
“Well, then!” Olivia spoke bracingly. “You must believe exactly that.”
“But I still know I’m part of the problem,” Georgy mourned. “I’ve always loved Daddy best ever since I can remember. I don’t think my mother cares, Olivia.” She looked earnestly into Olivia’s concerned face. “She doesn’t. Daddy can have full custody. That’s why I’m here. She likes to pretend she’s not abandoning me, but she is. She knows Daddy will always love and care for me. That lets her off the hook. A lot of kids at school live with divorce. Usually it’s the dad that takes off with someone. That happened to two of my friends. I know my dad would never abandon me. But he’s an important man like your father. He doesn’t have a lot of time.”
But he is making time for his daughter.
That scored him a lot of points.
She met up with McAlpine as she was making her way along the vaulted corridor. It was hung with an astounding collection of paintings of the Red Centre. Once she would have thought the colours glorified, but now she knew better. She had actually seen these dry pottery colours—the pinks, the yellows, the rust red of the earth, the grape blue and the amethyst of the distant escarpments, the cobalt blue of the sky.
“Well, well!” He came to a dead stop as he accepted an undeniable truth. He wanted this woman. Yet he continued to play the suave bantering game. “May I say how absolutely stunning you look, Ms Balfour. Not that I didn’t know you could dazzle. The outfit is a master stroke.” His golden eyes assessed her from head to toe.
Much as a great couturier would inspect his favourite muse, Olivia thought. At least he really liked what he saw. She registered that from the flash in his eyes.
It gave her enormous confidence. She wasn’t in any way nervous of this evening or his guests. Apart from the sometime she-devil, Marigole, who mightn’t be able to resist getting in a dig or two.
“And the goddess hair!” He headed towards her. “I believe there are dangers inherent in falling in love with a goddess.”
“Mockery, McAlpine?” She turned assessing blue eyes on him. He was wearing evening dress. He looked magnificent. Black tailored trousers, black collarless shirt, a midnight-blue tailored jacket over the top. It was a very sophisticated look and quite a change from black tie.
“Indeed, no. How modest you are. You have marvellous hair.”
“And it’s all mine.” She couldn’t help laughing. “No need of extensions, though you probably don’t know much about that.” Her voice was surprisingly steady when she felt sexual excitement working its way down from her throat through her centre to her legs. Bella had described him as “one sexy devil!” Bella was never wrong.
“I’m not that far behind the times,” he said, thrilling her by taking her arm as if they were paired for the night. “For a while I puzzled over how a lady friend of mine grew an impressive mane overnight.”
“So you’re telling me you have lady friends?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Olivia.” He glanced down at her, inhaling her subtle exquisite perfume. “You make it sound like a crime. I could have a whole harem if I wanted it.”
“No doubt!” She broke off, aware her heart was banging away like a set of drums. His golden eyes were fixed on her cleavage which didn’t seem terribly like him. There was nothing vaguely lecherous about McAlpine for all his sexual magnetism. “What are you looking at?” she asked unsteadily.
“The necklace,” he told her with the tiniest frown. “Bessie gave it to you?”
She clutched the glittering, glowing stone. “Bessie, yes. That’s a relief. I thought you were staring at my cleavage.”
“That too,” he purred, narrowing his golden eyes.