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"I know how hard you work, Marsh.Incredibly hard. I only meant you get waited on, as well. ""Rosa, you're a worse sn.o.b than any of us. I consider having a housekeeper to prepare my meals perfectly normal. For one thing, I don't have the timeor inclination and it gives someone a job. You've always taken the view yourmother was sold into slavery. We've always had household staff. Is that a sin? We can afford it and the homestead is huge. I can't think of anyonewho would care to run it on their own. All in all, we have hundreds ofemployees. None of them forced to stay. Most of them I would think, happyenough. And that includes Liv. She takes great pride in her efficiency."
"In fact, she's had an awful time and you know mat perfectly well," Roslyn said in a tight voice.
"When my father was killed she was too bereft to think for herself. I wasn't old enough to be much use. I bitterly regret that. Your father offered her the job and not even your mother would go against him but she never liked us."
"My mother never liked anyone," Marsh answered with bleak humour.
"Except you. She adored you. You were the only person in her life. I used to feel so sorry for your sisters. Anyone else but your mother would have been besotted with Sir Charles."
Marsh gave a harsh sigh.
"My parents' marriage wasn't a love match.
You know that. They were paired off almost from the day they were born.
It's not all that unusual. Everyone thought it would work. It didn't. My mother and father led separate lives but they elected to stay under one roof.
My father didn't believe in divorce. He'd made his commitment and that was that. You know what he was like. "
Roslyn lowered her head, feeling a quiver of shame. "An honorable man but not a happy one. Like you, he was laden with too many responsibilities. Too much expectation. Old school. Old values. Isn't it better to split up than live a lie?"
Marsh gave her a hard, impatient glance.
"And what about the children, family, the continuity of tradition? There are worse things than staying together. Like pulling everyone apart. All we have to do, Roslyn, is solve our own problems. Not everyone else's. Not even your mother's. People don't always do what We want. My father hadpowerful reasons for doing all the things he did. That's good enough for me."
"Well, it's not good enough for me!" Roslyn announced dramatically."Sir Charles blackmailed my mother into staying."Inflammatory words! Goaded, Marsh grasped her by the shoulders."So he cared about what happened to her? There was no relationship, if that's what you're implying."
So profoundly protective of her mother, Roslyn decided to take affront.
"Dear me, no!" she cried.
"How could such a thing happen?
The exalted Sir Charles Faulkner, pillar of the establishment, a genuine
gentleman, and his housekeeper? We're talking sacrilege here! "The blue eyes blazed. Blue. Blue, bluer."Don't say another word, Roslyn," he growled.It was insanity to ignore him."You're hurting me," she said, looking pointedly at his hands."I'm sorry." Abruptly he released her. With a characteristic up-thrust of his head he walked away down the hallway with its polished floor and brightIndian runner, glancing left and right before turning into the kitchen at therear of the house.
Roslyn stood for a moment, trying to cool down. The last time they had beentogether their meeting had ended in bitter argument. Mostly her fault. She acknowledged her guilts, but she had received too many painful blows fromFaulkner hands.
When she walked into the kitchen. Marsh was looking moodily around. Roslyn was rather proud of the way she had transformed the kitchen withsunshine yellow paint and a glossy white trim. Filmy white curtains adornedthe windows, a circular pine table and chairs occupied the center of theroom, an old pine dresser she used to display a very pretty Victorian dinnerset against the wall. A mixed bunch of flowers stood on the table, an N other at the window behind the sink. Everything was spick-and-span as was her way. Her mother had trained her well.
Not that she expected Marsh to notice. He was used to grandeur. He had known it from the cot. Her first cot had been a washing basket.
It came to her, looking at him, big men needed big rooms. Marsh, like his father before him, was six-three. At nearing thirty, very lean and athletic, whereas Sir Charles who had never appeared to carry an extra pound had somehow filled out with age. Both of them big men.
Marsh's everyday gear was a bush shirt and jeans, a pearl-grey Akubra tilted at a rakish angle, his Cuban-heeled riding boots making him tower over the men. Today he wore a beautiful dark grey suit with a blue shirt and a silk tie, predominantly red, a matching kerchief in his breast pocket. In the city, as at home, he had the perfect male frame for hanging clothes on. Not that Marsh had ever shown the slightest vanity about his astounding good looks. His looks were almost irrelevant to performance. He had to shine academically, on the sports field, in the company of the rich and powerful.
The focus had been on carrying on the Faulkner proud tradition. His mother and father, for all the differences between them, had been as one in their pride. Everything Marsh attempted he excelled at. Roslyn could not imagine what life would have been like for him had he not.
Through the grace of G.o.d and bloodlines he was a born leader with a natural presence and an enviable capacity for getting the best out of everyone without friction.
Except me. Well, I'm not about to fall down and adore him, Roslyn thought.
Those days are over.
"Quite the little achiever, aren't you?" Marsh broke into her thoughts.
"Why not? You showed me that, if nothing else. Sit down. Marsh, instead of towering over me. You make the place look like a doll's house."
"Sweet Rosa, it is, but it's pretty and comfortable and it's all you need.
For now."
"And what is that supposed to mean?" She busied herself with the preparations for making coffee, thankful she had the best coffee beans at hand.
"Even you, Rosa, will get married. You vinegary little thing.""I'll think about it when you walk up the aisle," she retorted dryly."What's happened to Kim Petersen?""She's around." Idly he stroked the petals of a pink gerbera."No pride!" Roslyn clicked her tongue."You've led her a merry dance.""The h.e.l.l I have! I made no promises to Kim."Roslyn shrugged."If that makes you feel better.""I can't help it, Rosa, if women have only one thing on their minds.Not everyone is a dedicated career woman like you. ""My own woman," Roslyn told him with satisfaction. "Your sisters would have been all the better for a job."
"I agree." The tautness of his smile conveyed she had scored a point.
"Being heiresses didn't help. I know you wanted them to feel guilty.
Anyway they're married now and out of range of your tart tongue and superiorIQ. You're a basket case feminist. "
Roslyn paused with a: hand on the coffee grinder. "You bet I am! All thinking women should have that in common. Your sisters are a throwback to the nineteenth century. So intelligent, yet with closed minds."
"Young women with large trust funds aren't always interested in making the most of their talents."
"Such a shame!" Roslyn sighed.
"Anyway, they made sure I didn't dream above my station. I'm not likely to forget how Dianne behaved at her engagement party."
"I don't suppose the fact her fiance was paying you too much attention had
anything to do with it." Marsh stood up.
"As always, your judgments are too trenchant. Here, I'll do that. You getthe cups and saucers.""I barely noticed him." Roslyn turned away to the cupboard."I was only there at all to help Mumma." And glimpse you. Marsh, who had filled her eyes and heart.
"Well, I might accept that, but poor old Di couldn't," Marsh said.
"The trouble with you, Rosa, you don't know anything about s.e.xual jealousy.
It's my bet you've sworn off s.e.x altogether.""I'm not prepared to talk to you about that!" she said tartly."So you're not going to tell me about the schoolteacher?"Roslyn swung round with a look of surprise."How do you know Dave is a colleague?""Come on, Rosa, wouldn't I check him out?" His tone was like silk."Sure you would. No problem, except you've never laid eyes on him."Marsh ground the coffee before he answered, sniffing appreciatively at the rich aroma."Darling, I spotted him on my last visit to school. A caring guy with a babyface. He was coming out the main doorway as you were charging in like a babyrhino. Obviously you were showing your temper because he looked mostsolicitous. I can't think he knows what a little firebrand you really are.Crisp little skirts and b.u.t.ton-up blouses aren't you at all. He should seeyou on Mac.u.mba riding like the wind. You might say you hate it, but itbrings out your true colours."
"Would you like anything with your coffee?" Roslyn asked in an abrupt change
of subject."A little pleasant conversation." His blue eyes so riveting with his tannedskin and black hair never left hers. "Liv is most unhappy you've decidedagainst coming. She's been looking forward to it immensely."
"Then why don't you give her time off so she can come to me?" Roslyn placed the coffeepot on the hot- plate.
His dynamic face tightened.
"You know perfectly well we have a full house at Christmas with a lot of entertaining."
"Ah, yes, the busy social scene!" she purred."Business and pleasure. There are people to be thanked. I couldn't do without Liv and she doesn't want to leave me in the lurch. No one will dareto give you a hard time.""You bet they won't!" Roslyn replied with some aggression."I'm a big girl now. Able to stick up for myself. Sock it back to them if I have to, but I don't want to live like that. No, Marsh, the further I keepaway from you all, the better. I'll miss Mother terribly, but that seems tobe my lot. Mac.u.mba comes first. It's been drilled into her.
Sir Charles first. Now you. I should be used to it. ""Hang on a minute, Rosa," he said flatly."No. it's true';' " What can I say to change your mind? ""Absolutely nothing!" she maintained."I'd like a little peace over Christmas. Christmas is peace, after all.
Not a renewal of hostilities. The girls will be coming home, won't they? "
"For part of the time, yes. Would you like me to tell them to stay away?"
Roslyn shook her head, exasperated by his tone. "Never! They love you.They want you all to themselves. Part of the reason I don't plan ondarkening your door."
"Because the past is with you at all times."
Roslyn poured the coffee and pushed it towards him. "Surely you're notsuggesting we make a fresh start?"
"I'll even throw in the kiss of peace."
She could not focus on his face, the glittering, sapphire eyes.
"No, thanks. Marsh. I remember your kisses. They're lethal. So far as I'm concerned, the past is always with us. Maybe not always on the surface butready to spring to life at me slightest jolt. Our relationship is beyondrepair. We came at life from opposite ends of the spectrum.
You with a silver spoon in your mouth, the adored object of everyone's hopesand dreams. Me, the offspring of very ordinary folk.
I know I'm easily given to anger where you're concerned, but I can't changethat any more than you could have changed your mother's att.i.tude. It impinged on us all. It colours Mac.u.mba to this day. There never was and never will be any question of my fitting in. It doesn't have everything todo with the fact you were the elite and we were so far down the social scaleas to be off it. Your mother detested us.
My mother and me. The way she used to look at us was just terrible.
Anyone would have thought we were a threat to her. I was always waiting forthe day she would accuse me of stealing"-- " Her son? " Marsh suggestedabrasively.
"I don't think anyone would have stood for that. I was going to say the family silver. There was no rational explanation for it."
Marsh took a quick gulp of his steaming hot coffee and set it down.
"Maybe for my mother there was. You could be too one-eyed on the subject, Rosa. Have you thought of that? My mother's life wasn't absolutely perfect.
As a young woman like you, she would have started off her married life with high hopes, but somehow it all turned to ashes. When that kind of thing happens, it can have devastating results. I know my mother had a harsh tongue. She was very high-handed. But have you ever considered she might have felt herself a failure?"
In her total confusion Roslyn laughed.
"A failure! Why, your mother considered herself quite extraordinary and in her way, she was. You Faulkners were the rightful rulers of this world."
"Leave it be, Ros," Marsh said, a decided edge to his voice.
"If you want me to give it all up and go join a monastery practising poverty, I'm not doing it. You'd only find something else to chew on.
You like to hate me. It makes you burn. And speaking of burning, would you mind putting the coffeepot down. Your hand is shaking so badly you're going to pour it all over the table. "
"I'll do no such thing!" Regardless of her brisk denial Roslyn filled her own cup and returned the coffeepot to the stove.
"And while we're on the subject," Marsh continued, "you're too hard on Di and Justine. They're more vulnerable than you think. You said yourself Mother didn't take a whole lot of notice of them and Dad was far from demonstrative.
You were the one he noticed. The girls didn't like it, either, when you grew more beautiful by the day.
There's heartache in a face full of freckles and being too tall. Having a brother who supposedly got the lot. Mother was never gentle and loving with them. The felt her tongue just as you did, but unlike you, they never challenged her. I know you're not going to believe thii but Di in particular was terrified of bringing a guy bac in case he caught sight of you. As it turned out, her won fears were realised when Chris made an a.s.s of himself at the engagement party. Face it, sweet Rosa, like it c not, you have a witching side to your nature. "
She looked at him gravely, even sadly.
"I was to tall innocent of any charge of trying to 'bewitch' Chris, a your mother put it. I'm just glad she didn't have a stak handy she reacted so terribly. I've never set out to de Uberately hurt anyone outside you. I'm pleased Di an Justine are happily married. They deserve some joy. expect you to love and defend them. I'm even gla they'll be back on Mac.u.mba for Christmas, but I'm nc running the risk of trying to hang out with them. The don't want me. The barriers remain."
"They will for as long as you let them. Do you know how bitter you sound, Rosa?"
That hurt her and she nodded wearily.
"Unfortunately yes, but unlike you. Marsh, I was wounded dail in my self-esteem. You'll never know what I'm talkin about. It hasn't and will never happen to you.
My seal don't heal. If I could get Mother to come to me, mayb they would. I love her so much but she seems to have some form of agoraphobia. She won't leave Mac.u.mbs It seems like the only place she's safe. Yet most of i has been terrible. I'll never, never; understand it. Eve since Dad was killed all I've ever wanted is to look after her. "
His expression was brushed with compa.s.sion.
"I un understand that, Rosa, but you could hardly afford to keep her."