Читать книгу Six Australian Heroes - Margaret Way - Страница 39

RHIANNON froze. ‘How did you—?’ She stopped abruptly.

‘How did I know? I didn’t until last night. But something about your name niggled me so I looked it up on the internet. I came up with, amongst others, Luke and Reese Fairfax.’

He paused and shrugged. ‘They were household names until a few years ago. Two musicians who’d gone into the entrepreneurial side of the business. Their open-air country-music and rock concerts were legendary and made them a lot of money. They had one child, a daughter, Rhiannon, who would be twenty-six now.’

He paused and studied her sudden pallor. ‘I’m sorry if this is painful but I believe that your father is still alive, although your mother passed away at the time of the company crash?’

Rhiannon swallowed. ‘Yes, but I don’t see what it has to do with you.’

He eyed her meditatively. ‘I just like to have things right, although—not that it has anything to do with you—Richardson’s, as a creditor, lost a fair amount of money in the collapse of your father’s empire.’

‘Now you’ve really made my day,’ Rhiannon said, standing uncharacteristically still. ‘So you are concerned about my honesty? In which case, I think it’s best if I leave immediately.’

‘Oh, no, you don’t—’

‘You can’t stop me,’ she flashed at him.

‘I could but I won’t,’ he said coolly. ‘Sit down and listen.’

Rhiannon eyed him and couldn’t quite suppress a little shiver. He looked so very much the man who always got his way she’d sensed yesterday at the airport and there was no denying his physical presence was impressive, even dressed in jeans and sporting designer stubble—if anything, that made him more impressive.

She forced herself to say, however, ‘I’ll stand and listen.’

He shrugged. ‘I’m not at all concerned about your honesty. It wasn’t your father’s dishonesty that caused the crash. There were a lot of factors involved. There were some bad, rather erratic judgements made but show business is notoriously difficult to predict.’ He sat down again and shoved his hands into his pockets. ‘Of course, many of the details aren’t known.’ He looked at her interrogatively.

Rhiannon, rather blindly, went to move away but he got up and propelled her back to her chair. When she hesitated then sat down, he poured them both another cup of coffee and sat down himself.

‘I don’t suppose the heiress to what was once quite a nice little fortune expected to find herself doing this,’ he said.

Rhiannon looked around. ‘No, but funnily enough I enjoy it for the most part.’

‘So what really did lead to the demise of the family fortune?’

She fiddled with her teaspoon then shrugged. ‘I suppose, as a creditor, you’re entitled to know.’ She paused and frowned. ‘How did you become a creditor?’

He stirred his coffee. ‘We have a transport division. It started out as a cattle-trucking operation but we expanded into a national express freight carrier. Your father used us to carry all the equipment required for his concerts from venue to venue—sound systems, demountable stages and so on.’

Rhiannon closed her eyes briefly. ‘I see. Well, it all started to go wrong when my mother was diagnosed with an incurable disease. My father was distraught and that’s whenhe seemed to lose his judgement. He backed the wrong bands, ones that didn’t take off, crowds started to fall off, debts mounted, but there was more.’

She stared at her hands. ‘He started to play the stock market to help him recoup things but that went pear-shaped. Then, when my mother died, he became acutely depressed.’

Lee Richardson expressed a long, slow breath. ‘That would probably account for it.’

She glanced at him then veiled her eyes with her lashes. ‘Yes. There was only one course then and that was to go into the hands of the receivers and declare himself bankrupt.’

‘How is he now?’

‘He’s better, he’s a lot better, although sometimes he’s still crushed by it. But at least he’s taken up his music again. He and my aunt, his sister—she’s a widow and she lives with us—are both musicians. He’s a guitarist, she’s a pianist and they coach bands, school bands, music societies and so on. Unfortunately.’ She paused.

‘Go on.’

‘He’s going to need a hip replacement shortly but we don’t have private health cover and there’s a waiting list in the public system. So I’m saving every cent to get it done privately.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Lee Richardson said. ‘It must be quite a load to carry.’

Rhiannon’s head drooped briefly then she squared her shoulders and tilted her chin. ‘I’ll cope.’

‘How about financially? Are you the only breadwinner in the family now?’

‘More or less. He gets a pension and Di, my aunt, gives piano lessons but it’s …’ She stopped and started again. ‘Now that I’ve made a go of this business, it’s a lot easier. Funnily enough, that day.’ She stopped.

‘Tell me,’ he invited.

‘That day we shared a taxi was the day I got my first job doing this kind of thing. Oh, on a much smaller scale, but it was a start. And the reason I was in such a rush was to get home, because I’d had to leave my father on his own to go to the interview. Of course, that was four years ago, when I was still really worried about him.’

He studied her averted cheek and the way her fingers were plaited around her coffee-cup, but she moved suddenly then jumped up, saying, ‘All of which reminds me that I came here to do a job so I’d better get on with it.’

She hesitated then turned to look at him. ‘Unless—if you don’t feel you want to employ me because of what happened. I would understand.’

Lee Richardson stretched his long legs out. ‘Do I look like a monster?’

‘No.’ She coloured. ‘But it’s a rather difficult position to be in. I just thought—’

‘Well, don’t,’ he recommended.

‘OK,’ she said slowly. ‘Thanks. And now I’d just like to establish a couple of things before I get to work. Where are the nearest shops, how will I get to them, do you have a credit system or do I need cash? Oh, and what about the bar tomorrow night? Do you need me to organise wine, spirits or whatever?’

‘You can leave the bar to me, we’re extensively stocked anyway.’ Lee stood up. ‘But I’ll leave soft drinks to you.’ He pulled a set of car keys from his pocket and handed them to her. ‘You can use the blue Mercedes station wagon in the garage. Mount Tamborine is our nearest village and you can put anything you buy on Southall’s tab. I’ll give you a note of introduction and draw you some directions.’

Half an hour later, Rhiannon parked the wagon and got out to enjoy the sights and sounds of Mount Tamborine.

It was not only a pretty village with lovely trees and gardens, but there were also art galleries, craft shops and interesting-looking restaurants. Several large buses alerted her to the fact that it was on a scenic tourist route and the clear mountain air was lovely.

When she got back to Southall, it was to notice a yellow Lamborghini parked in the driveway.

She raised her eyebrows but thought no more about it because by this time Sharon, the housekeeper, had started work.

Sharon was six feet tall, in her middle thirties and friendly.

‘Thank heavens someone is here to—well,’ she said to Rhiannon, then looked embarrassed, ‘I wasn’t sure if the party was still on after the shenanigans of yesterday, not to mention this morning—damn! I wasn’t going to say anything about that.’ She reddened.

‘It’s OK, I’m up-to-date,’ Rhiannon assured her, ‘and the party is still on.’ She stopped, struck by a sudden thought. ‘You wouldn’t know who the guests are, would you?’

‘Not by name but they’re all Mary’s friends from TV and the movies. Some of them are flying in from interstate apparently—oh, not to stay here but down on the coast.’

Rhiannon stared at her. ‘She must have been really upset to walk out—I mean—’

‘She was. She doesn’t like living up here and Matt has been away for a week on business so she was feeling extra-lonely and she’s.’ Sharon grimaced. ‘Don’t get me wrong, there’s a lot to like about her but she can be a bit spoilt. She’s so gorgeous, she’s probably used to getting her own way a lot.’

‘I see.’

‘Oh, by the way, she told me she’d organised a DJ, hopefully for the right date, but I’m not sure if Lee knows about it. And it may be more than thirty people, she told me she’d lost count but she thought it could be forty or fifty. She has a lot of friends.’

Rhiannon heaved a sigh. ‘I think I’d better tell him.’

But, along the way, Rhiannon got another surprise.

She almost bumped into a strange woman who was striding through the lounge, probably the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen.

For a moment she wondered if it was Mary Richardson then decided not; this woman was in her early thirties, possibly, and she looked faintly familiar. She also, from her flashing dark eyes, set mouth and the way she was walking, looked furious.

‘Oh, sorry! Hello,’ Rhiannon said, and introduced herself.

‘Ah, the housekeeper! How do you do? I’m Andrea Richardson.’

Rhiannon blinked. ‘You mean …?’ She broke off as full recognition dawned.

Andrea Richardson née Comero was tall and had a river of dark, glossy hair flowing down her back. Her skin was smooth and olive, her lips a luscious red, and she wore a glorious pomegranate-pink silk blouse with hipster black satin trousers and silver sandals. She held herself regally and you could just see her striding the catwalk.

‘The wicked stepmother no less?’Andrea shot back. ‘Yes, that’s me.’

‘I—didn’t mean that at all,’ Rhiannon disclaimed. ‘I mean to say, all I know is that you married Ross Richardson but most people probably know that.’ She looked quizzical for a moment.

‘Then you either haven’t been here long enough to hear otherwise or they’ve been unusually discreet.’ Andrea Richardson shook out her hair. ‘They—make that particularly Lee—regard me as a fortune huntress who preyed upon their father and trampled the sacred memory of their mother.’

Rhiannon stared at her with her lips parted. ‘I—uh—I don’t know anything about that. Anyway, it has nothing to do with me, I’m just here to do a job.’

‘Well, don’t be surprised if you’re shortly taking your orders from me, Miss Fairfax. Please do excuse me now.’

And she stalked away with a hip-swinging walk that contrived to be provocative even though it was so angry.

Rhiannon found Lee Richardson in the library.

She looked longingly at the book-lined walls for a moment then advanced across the red Turkish rug towards the desk. French windows opened on to a side-veranda and the perfume of jasmine wafted in. One end of the room held a comfortable settee and armchair covered in mint-green crushed velvet, as well as a writing table.

The desk at the other end of the room, where Lee was working, was much bigger and held some impressive computer equipment.

She stopped in front of it and sniffed. There was another perfume on the air and overlaying the jasmine. A perfume she knew because she had used to wear it herself. The same perfume Andrea Richardson had been wearing, now she came to think of it.

So, putting two and two together, had an angry confrontation between Lee and Andrea Richardson just taken place in the library? One could be forgiven for thinking so, Rhiannon reasoned and suddenly remembered Sharon’s comments about the shenanigans of yesterday, not to mention this morning.

She decided the matter in the affirmative when Lee looked up.

He did not look to be in a good mood. His eyes were hard, his face was set in uncompromising lines.

‘Mr Richardson, I’m sorry to disturb you—’

‘Call me Lee, Rhiannon, and have a seat. You look like the bearer of ill-tidings. Don’t tell me your confidence of yesterday at the airport was misplaced?’

It had happened to her before and it happened to her again. One moment she found herself feeling—how to put it?—in charity with this man, the next, he said or did something that made her feel as if she’d had a door slammed in her face. But that was ridiculous she assured herself angrily, and sat down.

‘I’ve just been given to understand that a conflict of interest may have arisen,’ she said precisely

He frowned. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’

‘I’ve just met your—stepmother. She led me to believe she might be the one to be in charge.’

She saw his teeth clench and a look of supreme irritation chase through his eyes but he only said one word, a lethally cold one, all the same. ‘No.’

‘But—’

‘Rhiannon,’ he overrode her, ‘what I say goes and that’s all there is to it.’

‘But if she lives here it could make things awkward for me, I mean—’

‘She does not live here.’

‘Well, if you’re sure—’ She broke off and bit her lip as he swore softly. ‘OK. Um—what you obviously believed was going to be a … refined buffet dinner for thirty people may not be that at all and not only number-wise.’ And she passed on Sharon’s news, including the DJ.

‘Bloody hell!’ Lee Richardson swore quite audibly this time.

‘That may not be such a bad idea,’ Rhiannon murmured. ‘To keep them entertained.’

He stared at her broodingly.

‘I believe she’s only twenty-two, your sister-in-law,’ Rhiannon said.

‘That’s—what? A whole four years younger than you?’

Rhiannon shrugged. ‘She can’t help it if she hasn’t had some tough times yet. She also,’ she hesitated, ‘well, apparently she doesn’t like it up here.’ She stopped awkwardly.

‘Go on.’

‘No, it’s nothing to do with me. Look, I’ve really got an awful lot to—’

‘You wondered what she’s doing stuck up here?’

‘Well, yes,’ Rhiannon confessed.

‘It suits me to have someone legitimate in residence,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘And, since you’re bound to work this out for yourself, Mary and my brother need something real to settle them into marriage rather than the erratic course Mary had in mind.’

‘Erratic?’ Rhiannon stared at him.

‘She wanted to live in Brisbane or on the coast and continue her career.’

‘I hesitate to say this but most women have that ambition in regard to their careers these days.’

They exchanged glances, hers combative, his amused.

He said, ‘Before you label me a male chauvinist, I agree that’s the way it is these days but—’

‘You don’t have to approve, you were going to say?’ she interrupted tartly. ‘That’s almost the same thing.’

‘Don’t put words into my mouth, Rhiannon,’ he advised coolly. ‘I was going to say that, if Mary had wanted to continue her career and her particular lifestyle, she should have at least taken into consideration Matt’s side of the story before she married him.’

‘Which is?’ Rhiannon raised a cool eyebrow at him.

‘A lot of responsibility and a heavy workload.’

‘Could he not handle that from a milieu she’s more at home in, though?’ Rhiannon queried.

‘Yes, possibly he could, but after he’s taken six months off to take her around the world on an extended, expensive honeymoon by anyone’s standards, wouldn’t you consider that some time spent living where he wants to live and showing some interest in the Richardson side of things would be appropriate?’

Rhiannon rubbed the bridge of her nose.

‘She is also pregnant,’ he murmured.

Rhiannon heaved a sigh. ‘Maybe you’re right—in theory. But theories don’t always work with living, breathing people and I’m just relieved—’ she smiled ruefully ‘—it’s not my problem.’ She gestured a little helplessly.

‘You wouldn’t have that problem yourself?’

She frowned. ‘What problem?’

‘You wouldn’t find living at Southall a penance?’

‘A penance?’ She looked at him as if he were mad. ‘The opposite, if anything.’ She stood up. ‘Be that as it may, about the party.’

He sat up. ‘Yes. About the party. I’m sure your thoughts on the subject are invaluable, Rhiannon.’

She grimaced, then reminded herself she had a job to do, and do it to the best of her ability she would.

‘Well, I’ve got the food under control. Most of it can be prepared this afternoon, so it only needs heating up tomorrow. But rather than using the dining room I suggest we use the east veranda. It’s big enough to dance on and house the DJ.’

‘True. We also have some standard gas heaters to warm it up if necessary.’

‘Oh, good! And Sharon has told me she’s got two extra pairs of hands for tomorrow to help in the kitchen. But what may be a problem with so many people is the lack of waiters. I haven’t worked out how to handle that.’

‘Uh—Cliff used to double as a waiter sometimes for my mother. He also used to set things up, tables and so on, for outside parties. I’m sure he’d be happy to do the same for you. And he has a friend he used to rope in—I’ll organise that. As a matter of fact, I agree to it all on one condition.’

‘What’s that?’ She looked at him abstractedly, her mind on the million things she had to do.

‘That you come to the party as a guest rather than lurking behind the scenes.’

This time she not only looked it but also said it as her gaze snapped back into focus. ‘You must be mad!’

He shook his head.

‘I won’t have a moment to spare!’

‘You will have staff,’ he pointed out. ‘You’ve just told me about Sharon’s arrangements and that most of the cooking will be done earlier.’

‘Mr Richardson—Lee, I don’t want to do this!’

He shrugged. ‘Then we’ll call it off.’

‘The party?’

‘What else?’ he enquired drily.

She stared at him, totally nonplussed and with the distinct impression she’d run into a brick wall. It also caused her to wonder how secure the rest of this assignment would be if she tried to dig in her heels but she made one last despairing effort.

‘I don’t have anything to wear!’

‘Thus work the minds of women,’ he murmured and Rhiannon could have killed herself for making such a feeble objection. ‘I’m sure Mary could help out,’ he added.

‘No, don’t do that! I … this … wfty?’ she asked intently.

‘I feel your influence will be better exerted from the front line rather than behind the scenes.’

‘You make me feel like a sergeant major!’ she said resentfully.

‘Ah, but much better looking,’ he said. ‘No, don’t take it the wrong way. It is part of your job description, after all.’ He paused and summed her up from head to toe.

She’d discarded her blue waistcoat and she looked young and slim but capable and brimming with vitality. You just knew, he reflected, that you were in good hands even if she stayed behind the scenes tomorrow night. So why was he doing this?

‘Scared, Rhiannon?’ he asked as the answer to his question articulated itself, or started to.

‘Scared? What do you mean?’ She looked baffled.

‘That you might not be able to maintain your absolute indifference to me in a partying mode?’

The colour started at the base of her throat. She clenched her fists but it mounted all the same to stain her cheeks pink. She pushed her hair behind her ear almost savagely but her cheeks still burned and she appeared to be lost for words.

‘I just wondered, you see,’ he continued softly, ‘if we didn’t strike sparks off each other when we first met this morning. Well, amend that.’ The ghost of a smile touched his eyes. ‘I know you struck a certain chord with me.’

Rhiannon felt herself go from hot to cold then back again. She swallowed. She knew that never in a million years would she admit to the undoubted frisson he’d produced in her this morning.

But denying it could be another matter. Would he believe her? Had she given herself away in those few moments of confusion? She’d certainly got the feeling at the time that she had. How had it happened to her anyway? It was four years ago since she’d first been affected by this man.

‘Ms Fairfax?’ He interrupted her chaotic thoughts gravely.

She took hold and swept him with a look of scorn out of her sparkling brown eyes that was meant to tell him she had no intention of playing word games—or cat-and-mouse games, come to that—with him. She would simply ignore the issue.

‘Well, it’s up to you,’ she said coolly and shrugged as if it was all a storm in a teacup anyway. ‘You’re the boss. Now I really do need to get to work.’

She swung on her heel and marched towards the door.

‘Isn’t that a little less than honest and upfront, Rhiannon?’ he queried.

She stopped and, after a moment, turned back.

‘Mr Richardson, I don’t care what men think of me, with good reason, believe me. So if you want to change your mind, you’re welcome to; it really doesn’t matter one way or the other to me.’

Their gazes clashed and held, his was entirely inscrutable, hers was defiant.

‘No, I won’t change my mind.’ That inscrutable gaze skimmed her figure and he added, ‘I don’t mind jeans on women in general but on you it’s criminal to hide such a marvellous pair of legs.’

She took a sharp breath. ‘You’re wasting your time, you know,’ she warned through her teeth.

‘I’ll reserve judgement on that. Please don’t let me detain you, Rhiannon.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Especially since—if looks could kill I’d be six feet under now.’

‘I wish you were!’ she retorted then bit her lip and stalked out of the room.

Lee Richardson watched her go with a quizzical expression. Then he sobered and once again asked himself what on earth he thought he was doing.