Outback Wives Wanted!: Wedding at Wangaree Valley / Bride at Briar's Ridge / Cattle Rancher, Secret Son. Margaret Way
precious time with you. He’s hopelessly in love with you, poor fella. He has been for many a year.”
Alana turned back at the door, her expression vaguely troubled. “Who says?”
“Me.” Her father thrust a thumb at his chest.
“Well, you’re wrong,” she corrected him, emphatically. “Simon loves me like the sister he never had. Simon is not in love with me. There’s a huge difference.”
“Believe that, you’ll believe anything,” her father muttered dryly. “He’s a nice boy. Always was. But he’s not man enough for you, my darlin.”
The coffee was perking by the time she walked into the kitchen. Simon had set out cups and saucers.
“I didn’t know what food you were going to have …” he said.
“Just a sandwich,” she said. She considered then rejected questioning Simon about any old love affair in the Radcliffe family. Better let it lie. That was certainly what her father wanted. “Have you eaten?” she asked.
“Only about an hour ago. I will have a cup of coffee, then I must be off. All set for Saturday night?”
She flashed him a reassuring smile. Simon would have been devastated had she said no. “I’m looking forward to it. So is Kieran.” Her brother got on a lot better with Guy than ever she had. They were of an age, with Kieran some six months or so older.
On Saturday Guy was giving a small function at Wangaree for visiting guests—an American couple, Chase and Amy Hartmann, members of a leading wine family in California’s Napa Valley.
“Your mother’s decided not to come?” she asked, striving to keep her tone non-committal. Rebecca Radcliffe’s presence would put a damper on anything.
The muscles of Simon’s face abruptly clenched. “Yes, and I have to say I’m glad. Sorry if it sounds disloyal, but Mum can’t be relied upon to say a pleasant thing in public. It’s just endless barbed comments that seem to bring all conversation to a halt. Guy only asked her because she’s family and he’s Guy. Lately she’s taken to criticising my friendship with you.”
“But she’s always done that.” Alana looked up from pouring the coffee. “Heck, she used to blame me for all the bullying that went on with those awful O’Brien boys. Oddly enough, they’ve turned out quite well.”
“Yes—can you believe it? But Mum’s jealous of anyone I care about, and you’re the closest person in the world to me.”
“What exactly is she worried about?” Alana was attacked by concern.
Simon directed his grey glance out of the window. “She’s terrified I might get married to someone she doesn’t approve of.”
Alana couldn’t help laughing. “Well, that just about wipes out every girl in the valley. No question of marriage for me, thanks,” she added briskly. “Put her mind at rest about me, at least. We’re best mates. Darn near brother and sister. It would be incestuous.”
Looking unbearably embarrassed, Simon grasped her hand and held it. “Can’t we take a step up from that, Lainie?” he begged. “No, don’t pull away. You mean everything in the world to me.”
She didn’t have it in her to be unkind. “Well, I’m happy about that, of course. But, Simon, dear, I’m not your girlfriend.” Gently she removed her hand. “I’m your best pal. After The Man, Guy, of course. What’s the matter with you, Simon?” she asked bracingly. The idea of making love with Simon simply wasn’t on. He was very dear to her, but no—decidedly not. “You and I, at twenty-two, are just babies in the marital stakes. You haven’t actually met a lot of girls.” Almost impossible with a psychotic mother. “I thought—I rather hoped—you liked Rose?”
Glumly Simon slumped back in his chair, stirring too much sugar into his coffee. “Come on, Lainie. Rose is really sweet—unlike the terrifying Violette—and I do like her, but she’s not a patch on you.”
“How do you know?” Alana challenged. She had previous knowledge that her cousin Rose thought Simon equally sweet. “You have to get to know her. Rose is not only sweet and seriously pretty, she has a lot of hidden depth.” Or she could have, Alana thought. She had a soft spot for Rose.
Simon rejected that idea. “I wouldn’t care to get mixed up with that family.” He actually shuddered. A gesture, she suddenly realised, very reminiscent of his mother.
“Your beloved Guy squires Violette around,” she reminded him, with a little touch of malice. Or could it have been envy? “Whenever it suits him, that is.” Whatever did Guy see in Violette? Apart from the fact she was stunning, always marvellously turned out and she could ride. Violette knew all about sheep farming—and wine as well. Ah, heck. Violette’s assets were starting to mount up.
“Violette, like many another, is praying that one day he’ll pop the question,” Simon answered. “But it’s not going to happen.” His tone couldn’t have been more positive.
“Then isn’t he being rather cruel to her?” Alana asked sternly. “I can hardly believe she confided in me, but she once told me he only uses her.”
“Guy most certainly isn’t a user. How dare she?” Simon burst out wrathfully. “He and Violette grew up together. That’s all.”
“Oh, please!” It came out with more vehemence than Alana had intended. “Are you trying to tell me they’ve never been lovers?” She bit her lip, regretting her betraying outburst, though Simon—bless him—didn’t appear to notice.
The very thought of Guy and Violette being lovers made her ill. There really was something weird about her feelings for Guy. On the one hand she pretended scorn; on the other hand just to catch sight of him induced the most extraordinary quickening in her body. Was it possible she was actually two people when it came to Guy Radcliffe? The Alana on the outside and the Alana on the inside?
“Now what deep thoughts are you thinking?” Simon startled her by asking. Mercifully he didn’t wait for an answer. “Guy’s no playboy, but he’s no monk either. Women fall for him in droves. We all know that.”
“He’s too sexy for his own good.”
There I go again!
“Lucky devil! I wish I had a bit of it.” Simon spoke with a mix of admiration and lamentation. “But it’s natural, Lainie—just like your sex appeal. You’re either born with it or you aren’t. Don’t believe anything Violette has to tell you. She’s only trying to put you off Guy, for some reason. Like I said—she’s not the right woman for Guy.” He put down his coffee cup, staring soulfully into Alana’s eyes. “But you are the only girl in the world for me.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Alana said.
Simon left soon after, leaving Alana feeling on edge and jittery. If Simon suddenly started coming over all romantic, she would have to join her father and take to the drink.
CHAPTER TWO
WANGAREE’S lovely mansion homestead stood on top of a knoll in the most beautiful part of the Valley. Everyone knew the magnificent rural property had been acquired by an Englishman, Nicholas Compton Radcliffe, in the early 1850's. Radcliffe, a man of vision and enviable private means, and set about building a homestead to rival any in the colony of New South Wales, and the style he’d chosen was Colonial Georgian. A double-storey central section dominated a serenely imposing façade flanked by one-storey wings with big handsome bays at both ends. To accommodate the hot Australian climate, canopied verandahs had been added at a later date. Rosy brick married wonderfully with the frosting of classical white pillars and beautiful white cast-iron lace. When the building had been completed it had been described in the colonial gazette of that time as “a splendid gentleman’s residence.”
These days