The Man From Southern Cross

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Margaret Way. The Man From Southern Cross

The Man From Southern Cross

MILLS & BOON

MILLS & BOON

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Margaret Way takes great pleasure in her work and works hard at her pleasure. She enjoys tearing off to the beach with her family at weekends, loves haunting galleries and auctions and is completely given over to French champagne ‘for every possible joyous occasion’. She was born and educated in the river city of Brisbane, Australia, and now lives within sight and sound of beautiful Moreton Bay.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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His thoughts inevitably shifted to the wedding. In a few days’ time, Annabel, his stepsister—the elder, by fully five minutes, of identical twins—was to be married in the homestead’s ballroom, with the reception in the Great Hall. The whole thing had gotten a little out of hand as far as he was concerned. And he was footing the bill.

To be fair, as a leading “landed” family, their guest list had to be long. The extended Mountford family was spread over three states, with Southern Cross the ancestral home. They all expected to be represented, along with close friends, business friends, the usual socialites, assorted politicians and a fair sprinkling of the legal profession to which the groom, Michael Courtney, belonged. It sometimes seemed to him that half the country had been invited, but Annabel assured him 250 guests was the lowest possible count. Roishin—was it Gallic for rose?—was one of the four bridesmaids. She had been a close friend of the twins at university, yet strangely enough he had never met her. The one time she’d visited the station he’d been on a business trip to Texas, seeing a fellow rancher. The girls, Annabel and Vanessa, spent a lot of time with her in Sydney where she lived and he maintained an apartment as a family pied-à-terre. When he’d had time to listen, he’d learned that her father was a merchant banker, her mother a divorce lawyer. Roishin probably arranged flowers. The twins, “the Mountford heiresses” as they were usually referred to in the press, didn’t work much, either. He, as head of the Mountford clan since the untimely death of his father, worked like a dog and always had.

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