Chapter Three

FROMthe air she looked down on a great many deep pools of water that glittered an unearthly blue-green. Crocodile lagoons, she wondered with a shudder. Prehistoric monsters existing in such beauty. In the distance to either side were more pools of emerald green and a long winding river that cut through fiery low ridges and endless giant fingers of sand dunes.

A jagged cliff with sheer rock walls that glowed a range of dry ochres—pinks, reds, yellows, creams and blacks, with deep purple slashed into the narrow ravines—served as the most dramatic backdrop possible for Kalla Koori’s massive homestead. She had been expecting colonial architecture and the quintessential verandas. This was something completely different. More in keeping with a desert environment with a touch of Morocco. The house from the air had an endless expanse of roof line with a central two-maybe three-storey tower. It stood in the very centre of what looked like a fortified desert village.

Here at last was the McAlpine stronghold.

Presumably in times of torrential cyclones McAlpine could offer shelter to the entire population of Darwin beneath the homestead roof, Olivia thought, her breath taken by the spectacle beneath her. The base of the stand-alone cliff appeared to be in permanent shadow. It was marked by a border of lush green where water must gather and never entirely dry out. All else was a million square miles of uninhabited desert—a beautiful, savage place unlike anything she had ever seen. She could well imagine the most superbly engineered four-wheel drives sinking into the bottomless red shifting sands, never to be seen again. There was a great deal to be feared about this environment.

But goodness! One could well find passion and romance here.

Astounded by her flight of fancy, she endeavoured to get a grip even though her pulses were jumping wildly. It had to be one of her increasingly mad moments, or alternatively it could be taken as an indicator she had at long last become aware life was shooting by like a falling star. That’s what came of having to play the archetypal earth mother to her siblings. She was starting to imagine herself as a woman standing at the edge of a cliff like the one that towered beneath them. Either she could totter for ever as she had done all her life or take a spectacular dive. Truth be told, she was sick to death of beingsensible. Bella wasnever sensible. Indeed a lot of her escapades had been hare-brained, but at least Bella had fun.

McAlpine landed the helicopter to the right of a giant hangar at least a mile away from the home compound. The interior looked as though it could well hold a fleet of Airbuses. The station insignia—Kalla Koori—was emblazoned in chrome yellow and cobalt blue on the roof. The Australian flag that stood on a tall pole nearby only moments before hanging limp suddenly whipped to attention, unfurling its length. Probably as much honouring McAlpine’s arrival as the buffeting from the chopper’s rotors, Olivia thought a touch sharply.

They were met by a tall bearded man in a check shirt and jeans, a huge white Akubra tilted back on his head. “Boss! ” he said, straightening up. He had been leaning nonchalantly against a four-wheel drive, its metallic Duco throwing off iridescent lights. Again, the station insignia in blue and gold was on the door panel.

“Norm. ” Briefly McAlpine introduced them. This was Norman Cartwright, who with his wife, Kath, ran the domestic affairs of the station—Kath with her team in the house, Norm with his team in the extensive compound grounds. She liked Norm on sight. She expected the same would go for his wife. Australians with the exception of McAlpine were warm and friendly. She bore in mind she was yet to meet the terrifying ex-wife, Marigole. Not that she hadn’t met her fair share of enormously pretentious women dripping hauteur. It was unsettling to remind herself McAlpine had called her an ice princess. She wasn’t an ice princess at all; she had simply perfected faking it.

McAlpine handed her into the back seat of a Range Rover, big cat eyes glistening, while he sat up front with his man, asking him a series of questions for which Norm very wisely had the answers. From long experience with her father she knew employees had all necessary information to hand or they were out the door.

Splendidly wrought iron gates hung on immense stone piers. They opened inwards as they approached, forming an impressive doorway in the ten-foot-high walls washed in a bright yellow-ochre that mirrored elements in the landscape. These walls surrounded the compound in a most protective manner; not from human invasion mercifully but the power of the elements. The massive height and the vivid desert colour put her in mind of Luis Barragá n, the great Mexican architect and garden designer. An extraordinarily beautiful pink-tangerine bougainvillea of great arching sprays and green trailing vines all but covered them. She had never seen that exact colour in a bougainvillea before.

Inside the courtyard was paradise in isolation. Something right out of an Arabian romance.

Olivia looked about her in fascination. As her father’s daughter, she had been surrounded by all the trappings of wealth and power from birth, but she was quickly learning there were all kinds of excellence in architectural design. What confronted her was a far cry from Balfour Manor and its beautiful cool temperate English gardens. Balfour’s garden design had, in fact, been widely copied in Europe. Here the sun reigned supreme, just as it did in Arabia, the Middle East, Mexico, South America. What spread before her had a look of a garden the Arab world might have developed from unsurpassed Persian models.

Water rippled from a great stone central fountain and splashed over the edges of several large basins into a very long but relatively narrow water-lily-strewn pond almost large enough to be called a canal. A broad circular drive led to the desert mansion, allowing for multiple parking. The big house itself washed in a darker ochre than the walls, and could easily be taken for the Moroccan pavilion. A series of colonnaded arches, with beautiful coloured tiles wrapped around the columns, framed a two-storey central portico with the traditional arch that led to the front door.

Given such a large space to work with the designer had offset the broad drive with a series of irrigation channels, or rills, which formed a grid of sparkling water. The grid ran back and forth across much of the length and breadth of the great courtyard. She was aware the grid she was looking at was developed from an ancient tradition. The very sight and sound of the rippling waters was sufficient to cool the atmosphere.

Truly magnificent date palms had been perfectly placed, their enormous shooting heads in themselves resembled fountains. Looking up at them she recalled what the prophet Mahomet was said to have told his followers: Honour the date palm for it is your mother. In the desert fringes of the world that ran across North Africa through the Middle East to Pakistan, the date palm was life. It signalled oases and water beneath the sand, provided food, wine, sugar, oil, shelter, even stock fodder. The date palm obviously thrived in the great desert areas of Australia.

McAlpine broke into her train of thought, his voice as seductive as dark molasses. “I do hope everything is to your liking, Ms Balfour? ”

She unbent sufficiently to show her pleasure. “This is a magical place. ” She had to push away the thought he possessed more than a dash of magic himself, with his boundless self-confidence, and acute awareness as though he was reading her mind.

“High praise for a woman not easily pleased! ” he said very drily. “When we landed on Naroo you kept throwing glances my way, suggesting I might at some stage be tempted to throw you to the crocodiles. ”

“What nonsense! ” She thought she had hidden her panic rather well.

“Well, don’t gettoo complacent, ” he warned, observing the way her classic blonde head was perched so elegantly on her long swan’s neck. “We do have plenty of crocs on Kalla Koori, but I won’t introduce you to them until you’re ready. Now shall we go inside? You must find it hot standing the sun. ”

“Oddly enough I’m getting used to it. That or the fountain and the running water are creating a wonderful illusion of coolness. The design, the massive walls and the vivid colours bring Moroccan architecture to mind. Then maybe the Mexican architect—”

“Luis Barragá n? ”

“Yes. ”

“I’m sure you’ve visited Marrakesh, but have you ever been to Mexico? ” It surprised him the odd unexpected pleasure she gave him. At their last meeting he’d as good as told her she was a genuine pain in the neck. She was in a way, but he realised even then he had wanted to knowmore. What lay behind the arctic mask, for instance? Except back then he was a married man on the verge of divorce.

“Not as yet, ” she was saying in her lovely voice. A saving grace even when it was caustic. “But I’d love to go. I know the Caribbean where Daddy has his island. I’ve visited Cuba, stayed at a friend’s villa in Havana. But I do know the architect’s work. He won the equivalent of the Nobel prize for architecture? ” She looked up at him for confirmation, surprising him studying her as intently as a scientist might study a rare butterfly.

McAlpine shifted his gaze. Even in strong sunlight she had the most beautiful flawless skin. “The Pritzker Prize. My parents and I were allowed to see his house and garden and one other, Casa Antonio Gá lvez. Barragá n treated the house and garden as one. My mother, in particular, fell madly in love with the soaring walls, the stunning colours and the marvellous sense of intimacy within the houses. She never did like huge plate-glass windows—‘glass boxes’ she called them. Inappropriate for here anyway, ” he said. “We have all the nature we need right outside the compound gates. We don’t need it inside the house. My mother thought the vivid blocks of colour would be perfect for Kalla Koori. Colours that could stand up to the brilliant sunlight. When you think about it, Barrigá n’s colours are echoed in the striations of the sandstone cliff up there. ”

“So they are! ” She pressed her hands together in silent applause. “The cliff is a wonderful landmark. It adds enormously to the atmosphere. Spiritual, I feel. Tell me, when was the homestead built? ”

He took a moment to answer. “My parents started it, ” he answered rather sombrely. “I finished it. My mother finds it too painful to visit often but she does come. The original homestead took a battering with Cyclone Tracy. What we have here has been built to withstand another cyclone of that magnitude. ”

“And it’s splendid! I can’t wait to see inside. ”

“Well, why don’t we do that now, ” he invited smoothly. “You can’t imagine how happy you’ve made me. ”

The mocking golden gaze stabbed her through. “Donot try to patronise me, Mr McAlpine, thank you very kindly. ” She had the fearful notion he was hypnotising her, because everything else was being shut out.

“I’m not trying to patronise you, Ms Balfour, ” he assured her suavely. “How could I when you yourself have developed it to an art form. I’m merely trying to colonise you on the run as it were. Turn you into an impromptu Aussie. ”

“It might take longer than five months. ” Her tone was back to lofty.

“Oh, my heaven! ” Brackets offset the generous, sexy mouth. “I’d all but forgotten you were going to be with us for such a short time. What a pity! You might have blotted your copybook first up but I have to say you’re perking up. ” They were moving beneath the tall double-storey portico lined with magnificent clumping palms with slender stems and pinnate-leaf plants in huge terracotta pots. “You ride? ”

Near outraged by such a question Olivia lowered her head from inspecting the inlaid domed ceiling. “What do you mean! ” she asked shortly. “Of course I ride. ”

“I meanseriously? ” He was teasing her. Couldn’t help it. She was incredibly starchy.

“Only something very, veryquiet, ” she returned sarcastically. “Oh, come on! Like you, I was practically born in the saddle. I know you’re only trying to take a rise out of me. Just like the other times we’ve met. ”

“You remember, do you? ”

His smile twisted her heart. In fact, the man was starting to make her feel as if she had been hibernating in a nunnery all her life.

Being a Balfour she was able to respond coolly. “I didn’t know if you hated women or it was just me. ”

“More my ex-wife, ” he supplied very bluntly. “She was making life very difficult at the time. If I made you unhappy, if only for a few seconds, I apologise. ”

“Not to worry. ” Olivia waved a hand, though she was experiencing an unfamiliar sensation of heat through her blood. “A few seconds can seem rather a lot. ”

“And you don’t take kindly to any form of criticism? ”

“It was rathermore than that as I recall. ” She needed a cold drink to quench the heat. It was coming from inside, not from out.

“Oddly enough I did like you. ” He took her arm, moving with languid near-animal grace. “So what was Oscar thinking about sending you to me? ”

She spoke tartly. “All I can say is he likes theweirdest people. ”

“And that’s how you see me? ” He burst out laughing—a genuine laugh, not in the least put out.

“No, not weird precisely. I do apologise. But you wereprovoking me which was rather terrible because I thought I did nothing to warrant it. ”

“Maybe you need time to take a good hard look at yourself? ” he suggested.

“Might I remind you of the same thing? ” She looked pointedly away, taking the opportunity to study her surroundings. It was all so very, very unexpected. “This really is the most fascinating place. Its fascination is increased ten times over by the extraordinary location. I should tell you I haven’t the faintest idea what you require of me. ” She brought her blue eyes back to him “You seem to have confirmed my strong suspicion to see me grounded. ”

“As opposed to looking down from your lofty pedestal? ” His tone was challenging.

“I don’t know why you had that silly idea. It’s talk. Justtalk. I’m really a very down-to-earth person. ”

A scoffing sound came from deep in his throat. “What youdefinitely aren’t is down-to-earth, Ms Balfour. And why would you be? You’ve lived a life of enormous wealth and privilege. You wouldn’t have the slightest idea how ordinary people live. ”

“And I supposeyou would? ” she retorted, stung. She knew her blood pressure was soaring.

“Ms Balfour, the only way we’re going to survive the next five months is to try to be tolerant of each other. ”

“And that’s your idea of tolerant, is it? ” She had to shield her eyes from him. The man was so dazzling, he was dangerous.

“Well, you must concede I’ve had to work very hard to measure up to what my father expected of me. Harder still to take over from him. You, on the other hand, unless I’m mistaken, have been solely occupied opening a fete or two and drinking endless cups of tea. ”

The blue blaze in her eyes spoke volumes. “I’d go much further than that. I’ve worked hard on my charities. As well, I’ve acted on any number of occasions as hostess for my father, ” she pointed out icily. “No easy job either. ”

“So there we have it, a starting place. As it happens I’ll be needing an experienced hostess to organise and run several functions I’ll be holding over the coming months. You could very well be roped in to that. Also—surprise, surprise—you might have to run the house for a while. Piece of cake after the manor. I’m planning on sending Norm and Kath off on a well-earned vacation. Don’t panic. ” He held up a staying hand as she went to voice a protest. “That’s if they want to go. ”

With an effort she calmed her rapid breathing. “You mean you expect me to take over as housekeeper? ”

“Remind yourself you seek the common touch. No need to be outraged. Besides, you’re here to work for me, in any capacity I choose. I haven’t gone overboard and asked you to pretend you’re my English fiancé e. Though that would solve a few problems. Possibly create a whole lot more. Anyway, you work for me. That was the deal. We have plenty of staff. I scarcely expect you to do the vacuuming, but I haven’t the slightest doubt you’re an excellent organiser. ”

“I told you not to patronise me. ” She gritted her white teeth.

“Need I patronise you? Oh, there’s another thing. You know I have a daughter? ”

“I do. Georgina. I thought you might have told me long before this. ”

“I’m telling you now. Georgy is beautiful. She resembles her mother. In looks. She’s my favourite person in the whole world. I love her dearly. But I have to warn you—she’ll be here a week on Saturday—that she’s going through a most difficult stage. But then you’d be used to that with all your sisters? ”

All her sisters? Well, she did have rather a lot. “Do you want me to tick them off one by one? ” she asked acidly.

“Not necessary. It’s just reassuring to me to know you’ve had all that experience playing the cool, competent, sensible big sister. ”

“So you’re asking me—tellingme—I’ll be your difficult young daughter’s babysitter while she’s here? She could well dislike and resent me. ”

“What’s to dislike? ” His mouth quirked. “I’m hoping you’ll be her friend. She’s had a lot of trouble accepting the divorce. She used to be a straight-A student but her grades have slipped of recent times. She’ll be staying on for a good month or so. ”

Olivia frowned. “Given that her grades are falling why is she’s being allowed to have so much time away from school? ”

His expression turned serious. “She hasn’t been all that well. Not eating. That kind of thing. The school counsellor thinks she would benefit from a prolonged stay. A study program has been arranged so don’t worry about that. The thing is, she’s missing me. She needs me around. ”

“Why ever not? ” Olivia huffed. “But then you would be an extremely busy man. ”

His gaze narrowed. “One can easily see you’ve had big issues with your own father, Ms Balfour. Might I be allowed to put in a word for him? Oscar would have had to spend a great deal of his time rebuilding and greatly expanding the Balfour business empire. You may have felt neglected but I’m sure you realise you and your many sisters have reaped the reward. ”

She swallowed hard at his tone. Obviously a reprimand. “Of course we do. ”

“It’s not easy being the man at the top. Anyway, my ex-wife, Marigole, and her current partner will be bringing Georgy here to me. To make things easier all-round I’ve invited a few house guests to act as a buffer. They’ll be arriving on the Saturday morning and leaving Sunday afternoon. We’ll have a small dinner party, ten of us in all. Georgy won’t be attending. Too young. ’

“And your housekeeper knows all about it? ” Olivia queried. “I would think she’s superefficient? ”

“Indeed she is, ” he agreed, “but I’m sure she’d be delighted if you could impart some of your own splendid expertise. Menus, table settings, flowers and so forth. Kath isn’t quite in your league. She doesn’t need to be, of course. My mother was a wonderful hostess. So is my aunt Buffy aka Lady Venetia Massingham. But Buffy isn’t up to it these days and my mother can’t abide my ex-wife. ”

“May one wonder why? ” She couldn’t resist the touch of sarcasm. “You must have loved her when you married her? ”

“I must have. God, it’s hard to remember. ”

“That sounds very callous, ” she offered censure.

“Don’t overstep the mark, Ms Balfour, ” he warned with cutting suavity. “I was married when I was twenty-four. Marigole had scores of admirers but for some reason she only wanted me. ”

“Perhaps you were more handsome and charismatic than the rest? ” she suggested, making the comment as cool and clinical as she could.

“Doyou find me handsome and charismatic? ” He caught and trapped her gaze.

Major fluster. Balfour practised calm. “I’ve been used to handsome, charismatic men all my life, Mr McAlpine. My father is just such a man. It doesn’t mean such men make good husbands and fathers. ”

“How harsh you are, Ms Balfour. Not surprising. I can see you’re overflowing with issues. ”

Issues? She’d give him issues! “It may have slipped your attention, but so are you. ”

“I guess so, ” he relented. “It’s just I hate to see a woman as beautiful as you so frost bound. It can’t have been easy for you and your twin sister, left without a mother so very early in life? ”

“We were taken excellent care of, ” she said repres-sively, giving him a sweeping blue glance.

“Of course. We’ll leave that one for now. You might as well have a sign reading Do Not Disturb on your forehead. ”

Don’t let him get to you.

“I’m a very private person, ” she said with something of the old hauteur.

It didn’t seem to impress him. Rather the reverse. “In other words you fear to let yourself go? Let me hold out a skerrick of hope. Kalla Koori might be just the place for you to thaw out. Incidentally we can’t go on addressing each other so formally. ”

“Youstarted it, ” she said, realising the moment the words were out of her mouth how childish they sounded. “You set the tone. ”

“Then I’m unsetting it, Olivia. You may begin calling me Clint. ”

“As in Clint Eastwood? ” she asked with mock sweetness.

“As in Clinton. Clinton was my mother’s maiden name. I was baptised Reynold Clinton McAlpine. The Reynold—another family name—didn’t stay around for long. It was my father who started calling me Clint. My mother had no real objection. ”

Fellow feeling abruptly smote her heart. “You must miss her. ” She could hear it in his voice. That was what made her momentarily soften her stance.

He glanced down on her briefly, his eyes so golden they warmed her skin. “I do. Both of our lives have been shadowed by my father’s death. But I’m hoping that, in time, my mother will settle and come back here for long visits. Now enough confidences for today, Olivia. I need you to turn your exceptional skills initially to arranging the house party. It’s not a lot of time, I know, but I’m certain a young woman of your training and background will take to it like a duck to water. ”

“Do I dine with your guests? ” She had to remind herself she wasn’t, strictly speaking, a guest.

“Good God, yes. ” He sounded startled. “Even though you’re enormously stuck up—at least with me—I’m sure you can modify it. Anyway, with your background you’ll be able to talk knowledgeably about many things of interest. ”

“Thank you for that, ” she said, sounding crisp and short. He was just so sarcastic with her! “May I ask, what about your wife? Correction, ex-wife. My presence couldn’t make her very happy. ” That was a legitimate concern.

“What’s it got to do withher? ” His black brows drew together. Impatiently he took her arm, leading her to the magnificent double doors of brass-studded dark-stained timber that opened into the entrance hall. “You’ll be acting as my PR woman. I can’t see you helping with the muster or breaking in a few brumbies. You’re Olivia Balfour, of the illustrious Balfour family. There’s a distant connection between our families. You may like to sort that out sometime. Your father is a major shareholder in McAlpine Enterprises. You’re here on a study tour. Part work, and partly to fit in as much fun as possible. How’s that? ”

“Why should she believe it? ”

He laughed hollowly. “Because I say so. You’re not feeling intimidated by the thought of my ex-wife, are you, Olivia? ”

“Hardly! ” Her voice dripped hauteur. “After all, I have no romantic interest in you. ”

He looked down at her cool perfection. “You haven’tleft yet, Olivia, ” he reminded her.

She swung about swiftly; heat darkened her cheeks. “I think I can safely say it willnever happen. ”

“Never say never, ” he mocked, his eyes never leaving her face. “For now, welcome to Kalla Koori. May your stay give you all the freedom you obviously crave. ”

The heartbreak of it all was, he was soright!

The next few days put her on her mettle. She had always had a taste for hard work. Not perhaps in the physical sense. She had never been a genuine worker as in the endless domestic chores required of most women. Not that she didn’t know she was blessed. But in any case Kath Cartwright, the housekeeper, appeared to have any number of rotating staff, most of them girls who had grown up on the station and had never wanted to leave. She could hardly blame them. This was a whole new world. Even the blazing sunshine seemed to speak to her, though she took extreme care to look after her English skin.

“My gosh, aren’t you beautiful! ” Kath Cartwright, a good-natured, humorous woman, had remarked when McAlpine had introduced them.

That feltgood, even if McAlpine looked somewhat sceptical

These Australians with their warmth and their frankness—McAlpine apart, of course—were encircling her soul. The three women she had so far made contact with—Bessie, Heather and Kath—all bright, cheerful women, had apparently taken to her on sight. She had to notice because it didn’t happen all that often. Bella had once told her she was a “dragon in the making. ” She hadn’t been sparing of Bella either with her response. Much as they loved each other she and Bella were very different in temperament. Bella simply sparkled with light. Here in Australia she felt her own dormant sparkle was going up a notch or two.

It certainly made things easy for her when she and Kath got on like a house on fire. No territorial resentments from Kath that a newcomer was about to invade her kitchen and perhaps take over the running of the household if only for a short period. Kath welcomed her input as if she actually needed it when Olivia was certain she didn’t. She even hung on her every word as Olivia told of her cordon bleu classes in London and Paris and her early mishaps, drawing lots of guffaws from Kath. When she was home and out on her official duties her teeth had often hurt from the number of times she’d had to clench them. Here she was being wrapped in a laid-back friendliness that required nothing of her but niceness.

No need to be on your high horse all the time, as McAlpine had so nicely phrased it.

“I can see you’re used to everything grand, ” Kath observed, while they were enjoying morning coffee in the huge white kitchen characterised by order and function and outfitted with every conceivable modern appliance. “What about this menu for Saturday night? Let’s make them sit up and take notice. Even Marigole. Her social secretary used to chase her with a lettuce leaf. We can fly in whatever you want. Plenty here, of course. A stocked pantry, freezer room. It’s going to be exciting, the two of us working on this. I’ll line up my best girls. I’ve trained them well. I’m happy to leave the dressing of the table to you. ” She gave Olivia a huge smile. “You look like you’re superartistic. ”

“I hope I don’t seriously disappoint you, Kath, ” Olivia said.

“Won’t happen, love. ” Kath reached out with confidence to pat her hand. “I’ll let you take care of the wines, as well. OK? ”

“No problem. Do you know the people who will be coming? ” It would be a blessing to hear a bit about them.

“Sure. You want thumbnail sketches? ”

“Go for it, ” Olivia advised with a smile.

“There’s you and Clint, of course—”

Kath said it as though she and McAlpine were already cosy. “We’re not an item, Kath, ” Olivia hastened to explain, annoyed there was a slight waver in her voice.

“Believe me, ” said Kath, “He’s a splendid catch. You don’t have a certain someone back home? I suppose you do. A beautiful young woman like you. ”

That she was being acknowledged as a beauty caught her by surprise. “No one special, Kath. ”

“Don’t you worry. He’ll come along, ” Kath promised in a motherly fashion. ‘Hey, you could even meet the man of your dreams here. Now where were we? There’s the ex-Mrs Alpine—that’s Marigole, as you know—and her latest, a rich guy called Lucas something. The Jamesons—Neil and Celine, you’ll like them—newly married, Pete and Barbara Corbett, ditto, and Brendan Fraser and his girlfriend of the moment, Chloe Sanderson. Brendan is a lot of fun, the perennial bachelor, and much sought after. He was Clint’s best man. It could be a great weekend, ” Kath said, a note of real regret in her tone, “only Marigole takes a particular delight in trying to torment Clint. I hope you’ll excuse my speaking out, dear, but you definitely need to know. I don’t want you caught in the line of fire as it were. Naturally Clint’s friends—never hers—don’t like it. Brendan once called her a she-devil after Marigole had been particularly appalling. Jealous of anyone Clint liked, you see. She wanted his sole attention right from the start. ”

“But he must have loved her, Kath. ” Olivia was trying to figure the marriage out. Of course, she knew people sometimes fell out of love as quickly as they fell in. But could Marigole be that bad? Heather hadn’t taken to her. Now here was Kath warning her as well and obviously feeling the need. Whatever had McAlpine seen in her?

“Hey, he did for a while, ” Kath acknowledged. “Not love exactly, more the state of being in love. Infatuation. Marigole is a stunner. As dark as you’re fair. Milky white skin, skinny as a rake, but a great clothes horse. Never seen in her in the same thing twice. Needless to say she made it her business to be charm itself until she fell pregnant. Didn’t like that at all. And the way she treated me! ” Kath cast up her hazel eyes. “Never mind the staff! They might as well have been invisible. Since the divorce when she’s in the house she doesn’t say one word to me. Anyone would think I was responsible for the split up. But it’s poor little Georgy who has suffered the most. ”

“Now that I can understand. ” Olivia spoke from the heart. “No child would want their parents to divorce. It would be devastating. Especially at her age. ”

“Well, there’s that, of course, ” Kath said, “but it wasn’t the split so much. Georgy has always felt—with good reason—her mother never really wanted her. Marigole was cruel about that. Something Clint took violent exception to. Marigole made no bones about the fact it was a prized son she had wanted. Like she had to produce Clint’s heir right off. It was a point of pride with her. Daughters came way down the line. ”

Olivia was utterly dismayed. Most women would be ecstatic to have a healthy child. Poor little girl. A good thing her own father didn’t think like that. “There are eight of us. All daughters, ” she told Kath.

Kath, at the point of taking another sip of coffee, set her cup down with a clunk. “Eight? ” Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Your mother must have spent her life in maternity clothes? ”

Olivia sighed. “Suffice to say my father has been married three times. My mother was his first wife. She died in childbirth with Zoe, the third sister. I’m the eldest by exactly two minutes. I have a twin, Bella. ”

“Upon my word! There’s bound to be a story there! ”

“I’ll tell you sometime, ” Olivia promised.

Kath nodded “Whenever you’re ready. Just remember, dear, I’m here if you ever feel like a chat. None of us want you to be lonely when you’re so far from home. ”

A kind thought went a very long way. Olivia tucked that away for future reference.

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