Маргарет Уэй – Australia: Outback Fantasies: Outback Heiress, Surprise Proposal / Adopted: Outback Baby / Outback Doctor, English Bride (страница 16)

‘Yes,’ she agreed soberly, ‘a tragedy.’

‘Are you okay?’ He studied her intently. ‘You’ve lost all colour.’ In the space of a single day her willowy slenderness now bordered on the fragile. Francesca fascinated him. She had always seemed to him quite simply unique.

‘I will be when my mind clears and my blood starts flowing again.’ She rested her head back. ‘I wish my father were still here.’

How well Bryn understood that, having been cruelly robbed of his own parent. ‘Misfortune on both our houses,’ he said grimly. ‘Your father could handle what was too difficult and too big for Charles. Not good for Charles’s ego. Their mother was the only one who was kind to Charles.’ He didn’t mention Charles’s mother, or all the women Sir Francis, confirmed widower, had had in his life since the demise of his wife without elevating a single one of them to the stature of second wife. Too canny to be caught with a huge settlement if a second marriage fell through.

‘So in his way Uncle Charles has had a sad life.’ She looked up at Bryn—the man who had brought her so throbbingly alive; the man her own grandfather had made partner in his pastoral empire. Her grandfather must have seen Bryn was far and away the best person to take over the running of the giant enterprise. Certain men—men like her grandfather and Bryn—could successfully juggle any number of companies without once dropping the ball or losing sight of their objectives. Bryn would probably transform Forsyth Pastoral Holdings, which she knew in recent years had suffered sharply reduced profits and too many changes in management.

‘If we’re going to be charitable, and I suppose we might find it in our hearts to be after what today has brought, he has,’ Bryn replied wryly. ‘If you ask me, Charles wants to get back with Elizabeth.’

The same bizarre thought had occurred to Francesca. ‘Then he has his work cut out for him,’ she said. ‘Just as Grandfather bullied him, he tried to bully Aunt Elizabeth. Only Carrie was safe.’

‘Safe?’ One of Bryn’s black brows shot up. ‘Carrie was a little dictator from the day she was born.’

Another sharp comment from Bryn? ‘Well, she must have changed a lot after I arrived.’ Francesca looked back on the past. ‘I remember her as being very contained, even secretive.’

‘Oh, she’s that!’ Bryn agreed, then markedly changed the subject, impatient with more talk of Carina. ‘God, I could knock back a Scotch!’ He heaved a sigh.

‘Please, help yourself.’ She waved a listless arm. ‘I don’t seem able to get up.’

‘Why would you? You’re winded, like me. Can I get you something?’ he asked, moving towards a drinks trolley that held an array of spirits in crystal decanters; whisky, brandy, bourbon, several colourful bottles of liqueur, all at the ready for Francesca’s guests.

‘Glass of white wine,’ she said, not really caring one way or the other. ‘There’s a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc in the fridge. You’ll have to open it.’

He was back within moments, handing her a glass. She took it, savouring the fresh, fruity bouquet before allowing herself a long sip. ‘No point in saying cheers, though most people would think I had a great deal to cheer about. Little do they know!’

‘We were both born into a world of privilege, Francey,’ Bryn said, taking a good pull on the single malt and letting it slide down his throat. ‘Responsibilities and obligations go along with that. For us, anyway.’ He didn’t join her on the sofa, but took a seat in a parcel-gilt walnut antique armchair that was covered in a splendid petit-point. The bright colours stood out in high relief against his darkness—the black eyes and the black hair, the skin darkly tanned from the time he spent sailing as much as his hectic schedule would allow. It comforted her to see him sitting there, like some medieval prince. The armchair was one of a pair her parents had bought in Paris on their very last trip there.

‘Carina may not have got what she confidently expected, but she’s been left a very rich woman in her own right. Boy, wasn’t she a shocker, telling poor old Douglas off? Once or twice she even made me laugh. All those war whoops she kept giving. When she was a kid her grandfather gave her full permission to disregard her mother’s efforts to mould her. Your grandfather was very pleased she was showing some “spirit”, as he thought of it. Showed she took after him and not her father. Whatever you remember, you must realise Carina was a very spoilt little girl? Now she’s a spoilt young woman, determined on running amok. Did you notice Ruth’s husband, a distinguished medical scientist? He spent the time trying to look like he wasn’t there at all. And Regina’s very agreeable husband—I like him—was afraid to speak in case he got told to stay out of it. I don’t think any one of them smiled, even when they found out they were leaving considerably better off than when they’d arrived. None of them is going begging in the first place; in fact, there’s quite a few hundred million between them.’

‘They were all looking very warily at me, I noticed,’ Francesca commented wryly. ‘Even James—and I thought he liked me.’

‘He more than likes you,’ Bryn pointed out dryly, amused when she didn’t appear to hear, or care if she did. Poor old James!

‘No one had the faintest idea what Grandfather intended.’

‘Charles knew,’ Bryn said. ‘He sat to one side, knowing he wouldn’t be named as his father’s heir as everyone expected. As for the rest of us! Nobody knows what tomorrow might bring.’

‘Did you know?’ she found herself asking, realising how desperately she needed that vital piece of information.

His dark head shot up, a flash of anger like summer lightning in his eyes. ‘Francey, you can’t be suggesting I knew in advance about the will and what your grandfather intended for you?’

‘Just a question,’ she said lamely, and then looked away, unable to sustain that concentrated gaze.

‘Not just a question at all,’ he fired back. ‘Let me put it bluntly. Do you or do you not trust me?’ He spoke as if her trust or lack of it was crucial to their friendship.

‘I wonder you should ask,’ she evaded, suddenly beset by myriad doubts.

‘But you asked, and I want to know.’ He wasn’t letting her off the hook. ‘Did you consider even for a single moment that I knew the contents of your grandfather’s will and didn’t tell you?’

She could feel her whole body going enormously weak. At that moment she lacked the capacity to deny it. ‘I won’t lie to you, Bryn. I don’t want any lies or evasions between us. It did cross my mind, but for less than a moment. You are a Macallan.’

‘Is that it?’ he asked ironically. ‘I’m a Macallan, and therefore not to be trusted?’

She paused before speaking. ‘Bryn, I would trust you with my life. I owe you my life. But I also know of the conflicts that lie at your heart. You won’t discuss them with me, even when I ask what’s at the root of the enmity I’ve so easily divined. You, Lady Macallan and Annette, your mother, both of whom I love and respect, all considered my grandfather to have been a scoundrel.’

Bryn tossed back the rest of his drink, then moved back to the drinks trolley for a refill. ‘God, what a day! Most people thought Frank a great rogue, Francey.’ He expelled a long breath. ‘For all the things he did to anyone who opposed him, and to competitors in business, be they so-called friends or colleagues. He could have been condemned a thousand times over.’

‘But it’s far more than that with you. It’s deeply personal. I know you won’t rest until you’re CEO of Titan.’

He turned back to her, his whole persona on high alert. He had such a range of expressions, she thought. One minute daunting, the next the most beautiful smile in the world, and then, when he was engrossed in something he found interesting or beautiful, his striking face turned vividly expressive. At certain times too, like now, he had a look of what the French would call hauteur. It wasn’t arrogance. Bryn wasn’t arrogant—unless it was the unconscious arrogance of achievement.

‘Well, now, that’s up to the board, Francey,’ he said. ‘Naturally you will have to take your place there now. We’ll be able to vote for one another,’ he tacked on suavely.

She flushed. ‘It’s no joke, Bryn.’ She waited until he had resumed his seat and did not tower over her. ‘It would be a further whiplash in Carina’s face not to offer her a place. I don’t know if it will ever sink in that Grandfather chose me over her.’

Bryn groaned. ‘That’s an easy one to answer. You’re one hell of a lot brighter than Carina. She was never academically minded. She had no use for further education. She preferred the Grand Tour—swanning around Europe. No, Francey. Carina’s beauty might dazzle, but not her brain power.’

‘Her beauty dazzles you. ’

‘It did. I’ve admitted that. But only for a while. I don’t deny I’ve made my mistakes, Francey, but I managed not to get too carried away. I hate to say it, but there’s something a bit off about Carina. The twists in her personality have notched up a few gears since we were together. You saw what she was like today.’