Mail-order Bridegroom Part 42

"Sorry about the delay." She pushed the trolley forwards, her expression

positively chirpy."Poor old Harry cut his hand and Mrs. E. had to dress it. G.o.d, it washarrowing! Blood everywhere!"

"Do you mindT' The freckles stood out on Dianne's pale skin."Sorry, old dear!" Justine gave her sister an apologetic smile."It looked worse than it was. Mrs. E. dealt with it very efficiently.""If that's what it takes to make you happy!" Dianne said."I'm not telling you all I know.""Obviously you're going to make us wait for it," Kim said, accepting a cup of coffee from Justine while Roslyn attended to Dianne's lemon tea."Will you look at these scones!" Justine cried."I've never been able to make a decent scone in my life. They're supposed to be so easyV " WellT' Dianne looked at her sister fretfully.Justine sat down. Arranged herself comfortably."Prepare yourselves for an astonishing tidbit.""Has it anything to do with Ros?" Kim asked sharply.Justine shook her tawny head."Harry cut himself because he's in a state of shock. It appears he stands to inherit a baronetcy. And a stately pile. Some ancient relative of his isdying in England. Lord Marchmont, Mortimer, something like that.""Good Lord!" Kim sat erect in her chair."To tell you the truth, I'm not surprised. Harry has always handled himself in the grand manner."

"He put plain old 'gardener' on his income tax return," Roslyn pointed out mildly.

"When did he find out?"

"The news was waiting for him this morning. Faxed to him by one of his sons.He has to return home.""You mean, he's going to take it up?" Dianne asked eagerly."First things first, Di. The old gent has to die. Harry was very fond of him apparently.""He must have known he was the heir, surely?" Roslyn asked."You'll have to ask your mother," Justine responded in an arch voice."She was the first to know. In fact I wouldn't be a bit surprised if Harry didn't ask her to marry him now."

"Why on earth would you say that?" Dianne looked at her sister sharply tosee if she was ribbing them."G.o.d, you're dense sometimes, Di. Harry's been in love with Mrs. E. for as long as I can remember. Don't you agree, Ros?""I think that's what's kept him hanging in.""You mean, on the station?" Dianne demanded."Yes.""But he'll be a baronet now," Dianne said stonily."I wish I knew what you're getting at." Roslyn's topaz eyes started to blaze."They don't come. more patrician-looking than Mrs. E." Justine said supportively, and touched Roslyn's arm. "So in a little while we'll have a

lord in our midst, or Harry won't come back at all."

While the others stayed on the veranda discussing the matter and reminiscing about old times in which Harry

largely figured, Roslyn wheeled the trolley back into the kitchen where she found her mother and Harry sitting at the table, drinking coffee, their expressions engrossed.

"So, m'lord, how are you?" Roslyn asked with gentle mockery, looking at hisbandaged hand.Harry turned his kindly face towards her."Plain sh.e.l.l shocked darling'. Justine told you, obviously?"

"Yes."

' "I would have liked to tell you myself only she happened to walk in at a crucial time."

"That's all right. Harry.""Come and sit down. Join us in our little talk.""Harry has asked me to marry him," Olivia said, looking at her daughter with half-rueful, half-sparkling eyes.

"What a one he is!" Roslyn put her hands on Harry's shoulders and kissed hischeek."Taking all things into account, I'm happy to give you my blessing.""She hasn't accepted me yet, duckie." Harry laughed."I haven't said no, either." Olivia smiled."I want time to think this over. Harry.""What, another ten years?" he crowed."No, no, m'love, it's not on.It's now or never! ""That's it, Harry. Sweep her off her feet.""It's such a big decision," Olivia said."I'm not good at making decisions.""You can say that again!" Harry sighed, his expression turning a little bleak.

"Faulkner was a dream, Liv. Nothing could ever have come of it. Now he'sgone.""Harry!" Olivia looked stricken."Why would you speak of Charles now.And in front of Rosa? ""Because she knows better than anyone else," he answered in a quiet but blunt voice.

"You have to lay your ghost to rest, Liv. / love you. I have from the moment I set eyes on you. I've stayed on Mac.u.mba to be near you, now it's time to take up my own heritage."

"Then you'll want to stay in England, Harry?" Roslyn asked.

"Oh, yes, m'dear. I love this country. It's young and vigorous and it's been kind to me, but England is where my roots are. That's where I want to die."

"I understand that. Harry," Roslyn told him, "but you'd be taking Mumma away from me."

"Nonsense!" Harry reached across the table and patted Roslyn's hand.

"Liv's told me you and Marsh are to marry. Don't worry, your news is safe with me. I'm absolutely delighted for you both. In my opinion you're splendidly matched. But when you're married, you'll need to be on your own.

If your mother honours me by accepting my proposal I'll take her back to England with me, yes. She is English lest we all forget. But we would expect you and Marsh to visit us frequently.

At the very least, once a year. That should present no problems.

Marsh travels a great deal as it is. He has relatives of his own in England.

He visits them all the time. "

"But Harry" -- Olivia said.

"No buts, darling," he interrupted forcefully.

"I'm certain in my heart we could be very happy. You care for me a good deal more than you've been prepared to acknowledge. Who was frantic when I came a cropper at our last polo match?"

"I think you should stop playing polo," Olivia said. "You've had a pretty good run."

"I promise to stop if you promise to marry me." Harry caught Olivia's hand and carried it to his lips. "Think of it as saving my life."

The following morning Marsh flew Harry to the nearest domestic airport where he was booked on a flight to Brisbane, the state capital, which in turn hooked up with a Qantas flight direct to London. Roslyn and Olivia went along for the first leg of the trip, hugging Harry warmly before he was forced to obey the final boarding call.

"Love you, love you!" he called, an unfamiliar figure in a beautifully

tailored city suit.

"Why do I have the feeling Harry's proposed?" Marsh glanced over to where Olivia was standing so demurely, waving a silk scarf.

"I wanted to tell you but Mumma hasn't given him her answer yet,"Roslyn explained."That doesn't surprise me," Marsh said dryly."I think she loves him." Roslyn's voice trailed away."I think she could if she gave herself half a chance. They're very good friends. As far as I'm concerned that's a lot!""I remember when we used to be very good friends.""I remember, too." He looked down at her, the expression in his sapphire eyes setting up a faint tremble.

In the near distance the jet turned in preparation for the taxi down the runway.

"Oh, I do hope he'll be all right!" Olivia moved over to join them, her

gentle face anxious."Such a long, long trip! He'll be exhausted, poor darling."Marsh gave a casual shrug."Harry's tough, in excellent condition. I just hope he makes it in time.""I don't believe what's happening around here anymore," Olivia said in a bemused voice.

"You and Rosa to be married. Now Harry wants to marry me." She tilted herhead, looking directly into Marsh's eyes."Why are you looking at me like that, Liv?" he demanded."Do you want my permission? You've got it. You and Harry are family. I could easily learn to call you Lady Mortimer," he teased.

Olivia didn't smile. She continued to stare up into his striking face with its strong echoes of his father's vivid blue eyes, firm jaw and cleanly defined mouth.

"You're so much like your father," she said.

"It's impossible to forget him with you around."

To Roslyn it was the most revealing thing her mother had ever said.

Marsh must have thought so, too, because he looked down at Olivia in silence

for a moment before he answered.

"Dad would have approved, Liv. You need a great deal more out of life. In a

sense you've been hiding away. I've been very grateful, but it's not whatyou deserve.Harry is a fine man. When he first came to us he was teetering on the edge of emotional collapse. Mac.u.mba took him in, allowed him to heal.

His problem of recent times has been getting you to marry him. You mustrealise he truly loves you? ""Oh, I know!" Olivia looked agonised."I've done everything but face it. Goodness knows why. I love him, too, as a person. I'm terribly upset he's going away. I'd be devastated if Ithought I'd never see him again, it's just ... it's just..."' "No explanation to offer?" Marsh prompted gently."No explanation I can offer." Olivia's beautiful eyes filled with tears.Marsh put his arm around her shoulder and they all began to walk on.

"It's all got to do with dreams, Liv," he said."We all have our dreams but it's not always the way life is. Harry can giveyou a good life. At the same time you can make him whole. It seems to meyou'll be making a big mistake if you lose him."

"Do you think I could?" Olivia sounded shaken."This inheritance thing has forced the issue. Harry's N not the man to give up easily but he will expect an answer. " Olivia gave a ragged little laugh. "When you put it like that, Marsh, I've a strong urge to step on a plane." "Well, now," said Marsh. "Just say the word."

CHAPTER SEVEN.

roslyn sat her horse in the shade of a silvery coolibah looking down on thespectacle of brumby running on the quivering plain below. The ridge was awonderful vantage point--she was sharing it with two inquisitivekangaroos--but the glare was harsh. It did funny things to the landscape,making it seem to swim in shimmering heat waves. She crammed her Akubra further down on her head, tilting the brim against the shattering brilliancethat pierced the light, leafy canopy.

Burning ochre dust, the vivid Namatjira red, rose in a great cloud as somefifty brumbies were being driven towards the holding yard at Inga-war riInga-war ri was an old camping ground and the horses could water there at thelarge dam.

She waved to the kangaroos who looked at one another then appeared to nod ather gravely. She knew kangaroos could be a terrible menace but they hadalways charmed her. There were countless aboriginal myths and legends aboutthe travels of Kangaroo and Euro on their journeys through central Australia.They were mythical creatures and there was no question they could look, likenow, extraordinarily dignified.

Interesting, too, they weren't in the least unsettled by her presence or theear-splitting noise that came from the plain.

In the old days running and yarding wild horses was considered the greatestof sports. She'd had a lot of fun herself but of recent times motorbikes were being utilised on Mac.u.mba to capture the plentiful mobs just as thehelicopter was used on the musters. Now the silent plain was split by the spine-tingling roar of four Yamaha 600 cc's herding the bush horses. It was exciting but very dangerous work, especially in the scrub. Sometimes the stallion fearing for his mares would try to savage a rider. The slightest mistake with the bike and the rider could and often did end up in hospital.

"Lucky" Redding, so called because everyone said he was lucky he wasn't dead, had crashed four times in the last eighteen months.

Twice on Mac.u.mba when the Royal Flying Doctor had to be called in to rescue him. "Lucky" was out there today in hot pursuit of the big bay buck stallion. Roslyn hoped he was wearing his lucky talisman, a roughly star-shaped stone a part- aboriginal friend had picked up on one of his ritual walkabouts in the gibber desert with its vast pavement of sparkling coloured stones. Roslyn had dozens of them Marsh had helped her collect as achild. The gibber plains are remarkable phenomena, the stones rounded andpolished by windblown sand until they resemble gemstones. Lying embedded inthe ochred clays, they resemble a fantastic glazed mosaic.

"Lucky's" talisman was a curious semitransparent quartz with a marking likean Egyptian hieroglyphic in the centre. A spirit stone Lucky's friend hadcalled it. It seemed to work, though not totally.

The dust was rising now in a turning, twisting c.u.mulus cloud, blown up by asudden hot wind that seemed to come out of nowhere, the w.i.l.l.y-w.i.l.l.i.e.s thatwere supposed to be sent as a warning. The horses appeared to be in superbcondition. Their muscles rippled in the dazzling light, coats taut againsttheir lean frames. The stallion appeared to have a lot of Thoroughbred inhim. His ancestor had probably escaped from the station at some stage.There were more than half a million wild horses in Australia. This mob looked a fine lot. The bikkies had been on the go since dawn. As far as she knew they were to cover the northwestern corner ranging over a few hundredkilometres. They would stop soon for smoko. She wouldn't say no to a cup ofbilly tea herself. Marsh had a meeting going with an important horsebreeder. She had left Kim and the girls lazing the time away beside thepool. Justine had invited her to join them in her new, friendly fashion, butshe had taken pity on the glance Kim and Dianne had exchanged. She was feeling much better in herself now. Stronger. When it was all said and done, the only person who really mattered was Marsh. Let the others think what they liked.

As she commenced her descent of the rolling, stony slope, Roslyn saw some ofthe horses make a break, while the others cunningly bolted in the oppositedirection. She held her breath, but within minutes Lucky and his team hadwheeled them in. Men on horseback would have had little chance against thislot, she thought. They would have been outrun. The horses were wonderfullyfit. They were on their own territory. They knew every inch of the scrub.

She made it into camp at the same time the weary mob were being driven by thetailers, the stock men on horses, who shepherded the subdued brumbies into atemporary holding yard. The stallion was still looking unpredictable but thebikes were ready to wheel him back into the tailers who were handling themwith the ease of long experience.

"Hi, Ros!" Tall, blond, laconic Lucky parked his powerful Yamaha thenremoved his helmet. His face and clothes were covered in bright red dustthat he cheerfully brushed and thumped off.

"That was some chase. Hard work."

"At least you're in one piece." She dismounted and tethered her horse,

responding with a smile and a wave to the rest of the work party."Wearin' m'lucky charm, that's why." He limped over, favouring his gamyleg, courtesy of an 80 m. p. h. flight through the fork of a tree.

"So where's the boss?" he asked, easing himself down onto a convenient treestump."He had a meeting. What about a cup of billy tea? That should go down well?""Wouldn't even touch the sides!" Lucky turned his tousled, white-gold head.

"Blackie," he yelled.

"Get the billy on, will ya? Ros wants a cup of tea. The blokes will want one, as well."

"Gotcha!" Blackie bellowed back, making Roslyn think the day-in, day-outroar of the bikes might be making them a little deaf.

"So, long time no see. Tell me what you've been doin'?" Lucky invited.

"I don't mean to be cheeky like, but is it possible you're even more beautiful?"