Mail-order Bridegroom Part 33

"Listen to me, Ros!" He took hold of her forcibly, fairly s.h.i.+mmering withrage."Mac.u.mba has changed already. I'm the boss now. Chairman of the board."She pulled away blindly.

"I'm going into the living room, Marsh. It's too claustrophobic in here."

She rushed away while he followed her more slowly, taking the armchair opposite her.

"I didn't realise you'd be so shocked." He studied her pale face."Not even a little bit?" Her topaz gaze was quietly ironic."All we've been these past years is sparring partners."He shrugged."Be that as it may, I can't exorcise what we had together. Neither can you.""Maybe we should see a psychiatrist to help us out?" Her lips twitched.His expression lightened, as well."I don't have the time to work on that. Neither, apparently, do I have the self-control to stay away. I need a wife and, in due course, an heir. It might seem like a big challenge for us to marry, but we're not afraid ofchallenges, are we? I can give you back the life you loved. The splendidthing we shared and understood. You used to call us twin souls, remember?

Maybe if we try hard enough we can have that back. I promise you a free rein. Your own money."

"Don't try to buy me. Marsh," she said with quiet dignity.

"I'm not interested in your money."

"To h.e.l.l with my money, then! In your case, it counts against me. But it could make life easier and fuller for Liv."

"So now we come to it. BlackmailV His mouth compressed.

"Not a terribly attractive view. All's fair in love and war. Liv is your mother. Aren't you the same girl who used to rail because she didn't have lots of nice clothes and places to go? We could take care of all that. You might get all up in arms about money, but having it does make people a whole lot more confident. Liv is a beautiful woman. She should give life and maybe the right man a chance."

Her thoughts exactly, but Roslyn wasn't about to agree with him.

"Aren't you the one who told me you desperately needed her services for the holidays?"

Marsh gave her a sardonic look.

"Maybe I exaggerated a little. I could always get staff. No one like Liv, of course, but competent enough.

I'm really after you. "

"Goodness knows why!" She sighed deeply.

"A blind obsession." His voice was spiked with self- derision.

"You're just hiding out as a schoolteacher. I've seen your face all paintedwith ochres, parrot feathers on your head. Who nagged Leelya for the recipefor a love potion? I know I refused to drink it, but you could have slippedit to me at another time. You were a tricky little thing."

At his words, nostalgia swept sweetly across her mind. Leelya, an aboriginal woman who wandered the station, had been the great friend and mentor of her childhood.

Leelya had been a vast source of information about humans, animals, thebirds of the air and the fish in the streams. Leelya had taught her allabout the timeless land, the red desert, how to play the clap sticks anddance in mime. Because of Leelya, she knew scores of myths and legends fromthe Dreamtime, how to gather food, find water, so vital to desert life.Leelya had taught her how to make that love potion and she remembered therecipe to this day. She had been quite a herbalist, mixing it perfectly, butMarsh had made her deeply unhappy by refusing point-blank to drink it. She'd been around fifteen at the time. They were down by the sacred lake with itsflotilla of pink water lilies and black swans. She had never forgotten hisamus.e.m.e.nt. The way he had teased her, not knowing a young girl could fall inlove.

After that failure, she and Leelya had put their heads together to create aspecial spell. Powerful woman magic that really worked. They had sharedtheir secrets silently, the old gin and the precocious, self-dramatisingwhite child. It was Leelya who had painted her face and body with brightochres. Leelya who had arranged brilliantly coloured bird feathers in acrown around her head. Again her plan misfired because Marsh had burst outlaughing, asking where was the corroboree?

"Rosa?" Marsh's voice catapulted her back to the present.

"Where have you gone off to?"

She gave her head a little shake.

"I was just thinking about Leelya. How is she?"

Marsh shrugged.

"I haven't seen her for ages. She's gone walkabout."

"She was a great friend to me."

"Co-conspirator, more like it! You and she were always cooking up spells."

"Some of them worked. Perhaps not in the way we intended.""That's the danger with magic, Rosa. Leelya should have warned you.I'm flying back to Mac.u.mba on Mon- day. I'd like you to come with me. ""You were always driven, weren't you. Marsh?" she asked reflectively."Let's say, I don't like to lose. I'm asking you to be my wife.You're not going to find anyone else in this life. "He said it lightly, but she found it significant."Isn't that a bit melodramatic?" She, too, played it coolly."You're not getting any younger, poppet. Twenty-five in January. For all your beauty, you could just get left on the shelf. You want children. I know you do. You're very good with kids. It's all very well waiting forPrince Charming, but you must have a few fears he mightn't even exist.Besides, you are so d.a.m.ned hard to please. I don't think any man couldmeasure up to your exacting standards.

Better the devil you know than the devil you don't know. I'm approaching thedeadline myself. I can't find a single woman to delight me for more than aweek at the outside. You're the one with that unholy knack. I know these past years have been rough, but I'm prepared to take you traumas and all. "

"The question is, am I prepared to take you?" Roslyn returned.

"I'd cut myself off from you."

"So why are the scars too much to live with?"

Roslyn blanched and immediately he closed the distance between them, sitting

beside her on the couch. "The things we say and the things we mean! Wehumans are terrified of exposing our hearts." He drew her into his arms."You still care about me, Rosa, just as I care about you."

"No!" She shook her head in denial."I have trouble with that."She buried her head against his jacket."It's all about what you want. Marsh. Always you.""I want the glory days back, Rosa. I admit it. This standoff could go on forever. I have to make the decision for both of us. But I'm not going downon bended knee and I'm not taking any more h.e.l.l for the past, either. We have to bury it to survive. If you like, we can draw up a marriage contract.You can keep referring back to it. I'll give you time, but if you decideyes, you'd better know I'll never let you go. No running off. No divorce. You and me for all time. No one else.

No lovers. Treat that very seriously. I could bring myself to shoot anyoneyou got involved with. I'm serious, sweet Rosa. Mess with me and you'vemade a huge mistake. On the other hand, if you honour our agreement I'll doeverything in my power to make you happy. I remember holding you in my armsand promising you the moon and stars. "

"Wild words. Marsh." She turned up her face, her voice husky."I remember." His expression was intimate, intense, a little brutal."So do you. Marriage might put us out of our misery.""It could leave us worse off than we've ever been.""/ don't intend to walk out," he announced, almost grimly."Think about that. Get it right. I won't let you go, Rosa. Our marriage will be forever. Rooted in the soil ofMac.u.mba."

Her eyes were liquid amber, her thick black lashes spiked with tears she couldn't control. She let her whirring head rest back against his shoulder.

"And in true, dynastic style you'll want a son?"

"I want a family," he said.

"I want sons and I want

a daughter just like you so I can spoil her.""This is real, isn't it. Marsh? I'm not dreaming?"He tugged her hair very gently."It's real.""It's the last thing I expected to happen," she said. "I have to think about it very seriously. You've taken me totally by surprise.

You broke my heart once. There's no possible excuse for me if I allow it tohappen again. ""Try to be more positive, Rosa," he jeered softly. "We can't let the past warp our lives. The future is full of hope. Besides, you're my favouritegirl. What more can I say?""Maybe you love me dearly?" she responded with a return to irony.

The dazzling blue eyes became hooded. "Love is a danger, Ros. It makes fools of us. A man can lose control and you know me. I like being master of the game. Besides, I haven't heard anylove words from you. Let's stick with what we know. We have a long, sharedhistory.

You're at the center of my life until I die. I never asked for it. It justhappened like something preordained. Neither of us is going to beat thisthing and we've both tried. For all that, we speak the same language. Come back to Mac.u.mba with me. Enjoy all the things you used to love. You'll have Liv's company and mine. Once, I was able to speak to your heart. "

She stared up at him, searching for words."Marsh, you scare me," was all she eventually managed.He lowered his head and pressed a hard, fierce kiss on her mouth."That's the way it should be. A woman should be a little scared of her man."His philosophy in essence. She'd been warned.Long after Marsh had gone, Roslyn lay on her bed feeling totally strung out.

Marsh's proposal had literally

taken her breath. She couldn't believe it, given they had done everything possible to avoid one another these past two years. Marsh had spoken ironically of a "blind obsession." No piece of theatre, but a well-doc.u.mented human condition. She could vouch for its existence.

Pa.s.sion. obsession. bound them together as much now as at any time in the past. Its grip was unrelenting. Only, if the truth were faced, she loved him. But the truth threatened her. Once confided, it put her instantly back into the position of suppliant. Marsh simply wanted her, like he acquired desirable properties and made no bones about it. Not that they weren't compatible in other ways but she was convinced he would never have proposed had his mother been alive. The violence of Lady Faulkner's opposition would have caused tremendous upset. Marsh's sisters would have felt compelled to follow their mother's lead. Likewise the extended family with a few exceptions.

The housekeeper's daughter, child of a stockman who had been killed on the station, was hardly the sort of person to invite into a family whose position in society went back to the earliest days of settlement.

Except Lady Faulkner wasn't around. No one would have to bear her violent opposition. Roslyn groaned aloud. She was so confounded by the turn of events she couldn't seem to think properly. She imagined her reaction was pretty much the same as someone who inherited a fortune right out of the blue. She had spent years trying to get over Marsh. Years of building up a defensive s.h.i.+eld. It had been an absolute waste of time. She had only to see him, to hear his voice, for all the old longing to start up again. Her heart defeated her every time. Even her acquired persona of coolness and competence was unravelling at breathtaking speed.

"I'm in shock, d.a.m.n it!" she told the empty room. How could she seriouslybe considering a marriage between them? A monstrous thought in the old days,what had suddenly changed? Marsh had thrown off the constraints of family?Didn't she still burn with resentment? Their past was complex and painful;their future promised stormy times. She would always be the b.u.t.t ofsomeone's snide little joke, human nature being what it was. There was something else, as well. She was forced to consider it with some trepidation. Marsh was one of the richest men in the country. Not only didhe control Faulkner Holdings, he had inherited the bulk of his mother'sfortune, which stood at some 50 million dollars at her death.

There was a whole side to Marsh's life she knew absolutely nothing about. A side she didn't want to know about. Great wealth wasn't a great blessing inher view. No one could have called the Faulkners a happy family though evenLady Faulkner had played down the exact size of the family fortune. Strictlyspeaking, the beef cattle chain was down the list of interests. There was a ma.s.sive investment portfolio. Marsh was one of the biggest shareholders inthe giant Mossvale Pastoral Company. It was common knowledge. She didn't give a hoot about any of it, but Marsh was deeply involved in all Faulkneroperations. Business trips took up a great deal of his time. In his own way, he was a celebrity even if he took great care to keep a low mediaprofile. The Faulkners she knew were private people, hiding their wealth,not splas.h.i.+ng out on a lavish lifestyle. Nevertheless, Faulkner money hadbuilt hospitals, schools, towns.h.i.+ps. They funded numerous charities,scholars.h.i.+ps, and a major art prize. As heir to the trust. Marsh had worked for and acquired degrees in economics and law. In many ways he had been brought up like a prince in a castle, but immense pressure had always been placed on him from the earliest age. It was a heavy burden he had been forced to carry, but necessary for someone who would one day wield a lot of power.

That day had arrived. In keeping with tradition he was expected to take the right wife and raise a family. The right wife surely meant someone of similar background; in other words, one of the ruling cla.s.ses. Not a schoolteacher of no social distinction at all. Worse, a skeleton in the family closet.

Roslyn murmured aloud her distress. Once, as a child, she had overheard Lady Faulkner and Elaine Petersen discussing quite seriously and calmly a possible marriage between their children.

Marsh would have been sixteen at the time. Kim, a year or so younger.

It would bring two prominent families together. Cement already-rock-solid fortunes. Even then, Roslyn had been appalled. Did these women think they owned their children? Marsh didn't even like Kim Petersen. He had told her so.

That was then. Marsh and Kim had been an item only a few years back, when his parents had been alive. Lady Faulkner had long since given Kim her stamp of approval and she was a lifelong friend of his sisters'. One hundred per cent suitable. Absolutely top drawer. Kim wouldn't sit idly by while she trapped their adored Marsh. She would be branded the ultimate opportunist.

Was she equal to the battle that surely lay ahead? If only he had said he loved her. If only. Sat.u.r.day morning she went shopping for presents for her mother.

Sat.u.r.day afternoon she spent in the garden in the warm sun planting out ma.s.ses of white petunias along a border. At least she no longer felt stunned. Marsh had asked her to marry him. He had asked no one else. Hadn't she always prided herself on her fighting qualities? She would make him love her. She would bear his children. She could do absolutely anythingso long as he backed her. She could return pride and happiness to hermother. Warmth and hospitality to a Mac.u.mba that had felt Lady Faulkner'sbrand of rigid exclusivity for too long. Nothing worth having was achievedeasily. It all took hard work and commitment.

She glanced with pride around her garden. It was very pretty, if ofnecessity, small. The gardens at Mac.u.mba were magnificent, watered by boressunk into the Great Artesian Basin. Lady Faulkner had had no time for thegarden, preferring to leave all decision-making to Harry Wallace, a rovingEnglishman who had come to Mac.u.mba to play polo and stayed on as the residentlandscaper.

She supposed in a way she hadn't been a contain able child, because she hadseen herself as absolutely free to roam the station at all times.

Lady Faulkner had positively discouraged her. Sir Charles and Marsh had been extraordinarily indulgent, almost applauding her audacity.

If only Lady Faulkner had been a kindly woman! Life would have been verydifferent for all of them.

CHAPTER THREE.

it wasn't until they were flying into the Faulkner desert stronghold thatRoslyn fully realised what she was letting herself in for. She had come to Mac.u.mba all those years ago as a humble stockman's daughter, now she wa.s.seriously contemplating becoming its mistress.

A rags-to-riches story. Something one might read in romantic fiction.

It seldom happened in real life.

Seen from the air, the blood-red terrain was extraordinary. It stretched away to the rainbow-hued mesas on the horizon, the hills a vast network ofcaves that were the repositories of aboriginal art many tens of thousands ofyears old. Mac.u.mba was fabulous. Even in drought savagely beautiful but soempty and isolated after her quiet leafy suburb it might have been a strange,new planet. Down beneath them were knife-edged rising temples of s.h.i.+mmeringred sand, crystal-clear rock pools, swamps and billa bongs that were a majorbreeding ground for nomadic water birds. Where the coolibahs stretched their long limbs over the water, colonies of this, spoonbills, s.h.a.gs and heronsbuilt their nests and the brolgas performed their wonderful dance on thesands. In the good seasons countless thousands of ducks invaded the swamps,becoming a common sight.

The outback was birds. The phenomenon of the west, the budgerigars in theirchattering millions, the brilliant parrots, the soft galahs, the zebrafinches, crimson chats, variegated wrens and huge flocks of white corellasthat often appeared to decorate trees like giant white flowers.

So often she had sat and watched the soaring flight of the greatwedge-tailed eagle over the dunes. This was the place she loved most in theworld and always thought of as the real Australia. The land of whirlwinds and mirage, its ancient plains crisscrossed with a vast natural irrigationsystem that allowed the country's huge cattle kingdoms to support theirstock. Roslyn thrilled to it in every fibre. But as they flew in. Marsh at the controls, she braced herself for conflict. What they were consideringwas a radical s.h.i.+ft from tradition. She could bring no fortune with her. No powerful family alliance. She could only bring herself. She was of the mind and generation to think it ought to be enough. She had no inflated ego, butshe knew she was good-looking, intelligent, healthy. Most people found herpleasant. She was highly regarded as a teacher. She hadn't anything to bedefensive about. Times had changed. She was ent.i.tled to a better life than her mother, yet she knew the instant Kim Petersen found out she was back onMac.u.mba, Kim would fly in ready to do battle in her cool, superior way. Kim was the natural successor to Lady Faulkner. Kim was one of the self-styledHigher Order.

"We're home!"

Marsh's announcement brought her out of her reverie. His voice was filled with great satisfaction. You're home, she thought.

"No premature announcements. Marsh," she begged. "I want to gauge reactionto my return in my own way. Once the family arrives, it's bound to beforthcoming."

"You're not marrying the family, you're marrying me."

"It's never as easy as that." She sighed.

"You and your relatives are very close. You're bound in so many ways.Blood, business, shared heritage. You're the anointed heir. They all loveyou. They don't love me. I don't expect them to, but I do want to be seenas a person in my own right. Not the little kid who tagged after you."

"Give it a rest, poppet," he said.

"I want nothing more. At the same time I'm compelled to defend my ownposition."

"You're good at that, Rosa," he drawled.

"You always were as sharp as a tack. While we're laying things on the line,might I suggest you lighten up. You're too ready to fly off the handle. The girls would have made friends with you long ago were you not so touchy. Theyadmire you, in fact. Your beauty and your brains, the way you've made acareer for yourself. Marriage has improved both of them, you'll find.They've matured and mellowed. Mellow, you ain't!"

"A subjective view. Marsh. I don't have trouble with other people. It will do you no good to criticise me."

He made a grab for her hand and kissed it.

"Forgive me, my lady.

Tolerance is the wisest course for both of us. Anyway, there's Aggie. " He referred casually to his distinguished grand-aunt Dame Agatha Faulkner,author and historian.

"You and she usually get on like a house on fire."

Roslyn smiled with uncomplicated pleasure.

"Dame Agatha is a true lady. She brings out the best in everyone.Everything was so much nicer when she visited. She was even interested in what I was doing.