by Hilary Wilde
The Master of Barracuda Isle Hilary Wilde
It was to help out Jarvis that Jan posed as his girl friend, her sister Felicity, and accepted his uncle Ludovic Fairlie's invitation to Barracuda Isle on the Great Barrier Reef. Jan had no particular misgivings about her action, because it was obvious that Jarvis' uncle was such a bully but l^hen she got there she began to have second thoughts.
OTHER Harlequin romances by HILARY WILDE 10] ITHE TURQUOISE SEA 1077THE GOLDEN VALLEY 1143JOURNEY TO AN ISLAND 1] 73RED AS A ROSE ]243THE ISLE OF SONG 1282THE SHINING STAR 1356THE MAN AT MARRALOMEDA 1496THE BLUE MOUNTAINS OF KABUTA
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CHAPTER ONE
THE front door bell rang impatiently, but Jan, washing her hair, decided to ignore it, for none of the friends she and Felicity, her sister, had made during their six months in Australia would visit them at nine a.m., nor did she feel in the mood to cope with salesmen. That morning she had overslept, waking in the quiet flat, for Iris, who now shared it with her, had long left for work. Jan had faced the fact that this was going to be just another typical day, dragging on endlessly, while she fought her unhappiness. She had looked through the newspaper as she drank her coffee and there were many advertisements for new jobs, but not what she wanted. It had to be one. at least a thousand miles away from Sydney and the man she still loved, so she tossed the paper to the floor, then had a cool shower, for the morning was already hot. She had nothing to do, so had washed her hair, and now the front door bell was ringing! It went on ringing and ringing, as if whoever was pressing the button was determined to gef an answer. Sighing, she grabbed a green towel, twisting her long ebony-black hair under it, then pulled on her green towelling coat, tightening the belt. "I'm comingS" she shouted as the bell went on shrilly, and she made her way through the pages of the newspaper, strewn over the floor, and paper patterns and materials that were falling off the divan where Iris slept. It looked a mess all right, Jan thought, and wondered what her mother, over_ ten thousand miles away, would say if she could see it. At last Jan reached the door and opened it. On the narrow landing stood a tall, broad-shouldered man. He
looked like a typical Australian at first sight, with his rugged face, sun-tanned skin and bleached blond hair, yet there was something different about him. "Miss Shaw?" His voice was- curt. "Miss Janet Shaw?" "Yes," she snapped back. Who did he think he was, anyway, she thought, for he had a nerve, ringing the bell like that. Why, she might have been ill.... "What do you want?" Her anger made her unhappy dark eyes brighten, brought colour to her high cheekbones as she lifted her pointed chin and glared at him. "May I come in?" he asked. It was more like a statement, even a command, than a request, she thought. Now she knew what was different about him. He was the kind of arrogant man she loathed. As she saw his eyebrows lift and he looked amused, .she was convinced she had seen him before, somewhere, but now, holding the door firmly and refusing to recognise the truth that if he was determined to enter her flat she would find it impossible to stop him, she said: "Who are you?" He looked even more amused, as if something she had said was funny. "Ludovic Fairlie," he told her. She frowned, for the name was vaguely familiar. He seemed to be waiting as if expecting an immediate reaction, she thought as she stared at the broadshouldered man in an elegantly-cut grey suit. She wondered if she ought to know the name. "What do you want?" she insisted, still wary. He smiled. She had a real shock, for it had the strangest effect on his face, wiping out the aloof sternness and the arrogance she disliked. He even laughed. "How right you are to be cautious. I'm Jarvis Fan-lie's uncle." "Oh, Jarvis!"
Her hand flew to her mouth as she stared up at the; man. Now she knew who he was. He was not only the; uncle of Felicity's boy-friend, Jarvis, but he was; famous as one of the wealthiest men in Sydney, a, business tycoon. His photograph was always in the: local papers, showing him on his yacht, or with his latest racing car, or else escorting some of the world's. most beautiful girls, for he was definitely one of the jet-set when he wanted to be. He was renowned for his dedication to his work, his impatience with weaklings, his insistence oh perfection. Jarvis, his nephew, was still at university, more interested in having a good time than working hard, which was one way in which he and his uncle didn't see eye to eye. Jarvis was always grumbling about his uncle's meanness, lectures, and threats to reduce Jarvis's allowance. Jarvis also resented bitterly the will of his grandfather which had made Jarvis Ludovic's ward, and which also meant Jarvis could not touch his inheritance until he was twenty-five. "Of course . . ." Jan said, standing back and opening the door, "please come in," she added, wondering what on earth Jarvis's uncle could want with her. Had he heard about Felicity, perhaps, and disapproved of the romance? "I'm sorry it's all such a mess," Jan apologised as they went into the small gloomy room with its aged armchairs, and the divan bed against the wall, where Iris slept, and which was covered by a bright red and black knitted cover, and remnants of Iris's dressmaking activities. It really did look pretty ghastly, Jan thought. If she'd only known Jarvis's uncle was calling!He was looking round with a rather supercilious smile. "You live here alone." "No, with a friend. She's at work. Please sit down," said Jan, nearly tripping in her bare feet over a hole in the faded red carpet. She felt suddenly embarrassed, aware of the disapproval in his eyes as he looked
round the untidy shabby room. Then a wave of anger swept through her, for after all, what right had he to judge her? He was a wealthy man who thought in thousands of dollars, whereas she and Felicity had come out to Australia, on a working holiday and to discover if Jarvis and Felicity were really in love, and had to watch every cent they spent. Jerking back the pale pink curtains that were still half-pulled across the only windowand seeing with dismay how badly the curtains needed washingJan saw the pathetic souvenir of her love affair with George. Just the sight of it hurt herthe solitary, rather jaded-looking red carnation, last remnant of the flowers he had given her before his diplomatic brushoff. Now, suddenly, she wanted to cry. "May I sit down?" Ludovic's ultra-patient voice jerked Jan back to the present."I'm sorry," she apologised sincerely, feeling her cheeks burn. "I was thinking." "I can see that," he said, sounding amused, as he looked carefully at the two armchairs, both shabby and rather pathetic, before he sat down. He glanced at the pages of the newspaper scattered on the carpet, one of them showing some exciting pictures of Surfers' Paradise and of the Snowy Mountains. "Planning a holiday?" he asked casually. ^ "Yes," she said quickly. It wasn't the truth, but she didn't feel inclined to tell him why she was looking for a remote part of Australia in which to get a job. She could imagine how Ludovic Fairlie would smile, that condescending smile of his, and probably tell her that she would get over it and that it was cowardly and non-constructive to run away. He smiled at her and again she had that feeling of confusion, for he looked so different, younger, much nicer, when he smiled. His whole face seemed to relax, losing its hard arrogant look. It also revived her certainty that they had met before somewhere. Or if they hadn't actually met, she must have seen him in person.Without thinking, she asked ; "Have we met somewhere?" His thick fair eyebrows lifted."If we had, I'm sure I'd have remembered," he said. She felt her cheeks bum. "I've probably seen your picture in the papers." "Probably. But to go back to this holiday question, it's rather interesting because, you see, I've come with an invitation. Jarvis's mother is eager to meet you." He handed her an envelope. It was sealed. She was so surprised, for why should Jarvis's mother want to meether? that her fingers seemed all thumbs and she had difficulty in opening the envelope, being very conscious of the amusement
in Ludovic Fairlie's eyes all the time. But at last she had it open and read the brief typed letter. "Dear Miss Shaw,I would be delighted if you pay me a visit. I like to meet Jarvis's friends, so do hope you can accept my invitation."It was signed Agnes Fairlie in a flowery, almost dramatic writing."But why ..." Jan began. She was puzzled, for Jams was Felicity's boy-friend, not hers. Ludovic sighed."Miss Shaw, I wonder if you'd mind sitting down and also would you remove that ghastly towel from your head? At any moment it's going to fall and it's getting on my nerves!"Jan obeyed, almost falling into the other armchair and jumping as she sat on one of the broken springs. Then she pulled off the towel, letting her wet hair,_ ebony-black and waist-length, fall in a cloud, brushing it back from her face with an impatient movement."I'm sorry," she said, stiff with anger, "I overslept this morning, and was washing my hair. We don't usually get visitors at this hour."
"I tried to phone, but my secretary couldn't find your number," he said coldly. "We're not in the directory yet." Much to her annoyance, Jan was feeling uncomfortably aware that she must look rather odd, for her towelling coat was too short, showing off her long legs. Normally this would not worry her, but there was something about this man that made her hate giving him the chance to look disapprovingly at her. For that was the kind he wassmug, domineering, arrogant, impossible, she decided. How she hated that type of man! For that matter, she admitted to herself, she hated all men. You just could not trust them. "Jarvis didn't tell you I was coming to see you?" Ludovic Fairlie asked, his voice stem. "No, but... but...." She was about to say she hadn't seen Jarvis for some time, but Ludovic went on talking. "I told him to. Will he never grow up ?" "He'3 only twenty and probably swotting hard for his exams...." Jan leapt to Jarvis's defence immediately. "And how old are you? Ludovic asked. "Nineteen," she replied without thinking, and then was annoyed with herself, for it was a stupid question and she need not have answered it. "Why?" "Why?" he smiled. "I just wondered. You look so absurdly young." The patronage in his voice was too much for Jan. "I suppose we all do to old people," she snapped, and then was sorry; it was a childish remark. He merely smiled. "Yes, I suppose to you and Jarvis I am a square oldie. Funny that today you're supposed to have had it by the time you're thirty-three," he laughed. "The truth is, and this is what you kids don't understand, that a man in his thirties is in his prime. This is the most exciting...." George had been thirty-three too, Jan was remembering. That had been one of his excuses. The difference _ in their ages, the fact that he disliked marriage and its responsibilities, his ambitions for his future, all 10 words he said to hide the simple truth: that he did not love her, nor ever had! "Miss Shaw," Ludovic's angry voice penetrated her thoughts, "you're not listening to a word I'm saying." He was right. She looked at him. "I'm sorry," she said, and meant it. "I didn't mean to be rude, I was thinking...." "Obviously." She looked away, her eyes suddenly smarting. "I'm rather upset and...." "I'm not surprised," he said coldly. Startled, she turned round to stare at him enquiringly and Ludovic went on slowly: "After all, marriage to a man you hardly know and who is still at college is a big step to take." Her mouth was dry. He'd got everything wrong. George was thirty-three, certainly not at college, for he had a very good job at a stockbrokers. In any case, how could Ludovic Fairlie know anything about George? Ludovic continued: "Naturally Jarvis's mother is troubled. She feels he should complete his education and be settled in a job before thinking of matrimony. However, she was impressed by the letters he wrote to her. He seems very much in love . . ." Ludovic's mouth twisted as if he was trying not to smile, "and that's why she would like to meet you and see if you...." Make the grade. Jan finished the sentence silently for him. For a moment she could not speak, and hardly think, she was so confused. How could Jarvis's mother think he was in love with her when it was Felicity.... "But Jarvis doesn't . . ." she began, then stopped; she had thought of something. Had Jarvis deliberately given them the wrong impression? After all, Felicity was even younger than she was, only seventeen, and so many people were snobs, perhaps Jarvis's mother didn't approve of him n marrying a dancer. Had Jarvis deliberately? she began to wonder, then Ludovic interrupted. "You were saying, 'but Jarvis doesn't'...." Jan thought fast and said: "He doesn't want to get married yet He does realise his exams are important and...." "Does he? His mother got the impression that he wanted to get married right away." Ludovic's voice was icily cold with disapproval now, almost as if he blamed Jan for Jarvis's 'idiocy'. Not sure what to say, finding herself wondering if Jarvis had invented it all for some reason and not wanting to let him down, Jan jumped up, forgetting for a moment her bare feet she had carefully tucked under her, and her long bare legs. "Can I make you a cup of coffee? I'll just get dressed. It won't take a moment and...." But he had stood up, too. Gone were the smiles and now his face was unfriendly. "Please don't bother, Miss Shaw. I take it you'll accept my sister-in-law's invitation? I'll call for you at ten o'clock tomorrow morning. Please be punctual." He walked to the door and turned. Jan, feeling almost frozen with shock as she tried to work out what she should say or do, stared at him. Would she be helping Jarvis, who had been kind to her, by going to meet his mother? "Miss Shaw, where my sister-in-law lives it's very hot indeed. I would suggest you bring your lightest frocks and, of course, your swimming gear. Goodbye." He gave her a long searching look, then opened the door, closing it behind him. Jan stood still for a moment, completely unaware of how lovely she looked, the pale green towelling intensifying the colour of her long black hair and clear skin. When she could move, she collapsed in the chair, not sure if she wanted to cry or laugh. Ludovic Fan-lie certainly was a character ! The way he issued orders and took it for granted you would do everything he demanded! she thought. is He was impossible, typical of everything she hated in men.She wondered what he had thought of her, looking the mess she did, living in a scruffy horrible little flat which it was, but it was the best they could afford. Jan could imagine him talking to his sister-in-law. "Not quite the right wife for Jarvis." Jan pretended she was Ludovic and spoke in his arrogant voice. "Not at all suitable, I'm afraid." Going to the phone, Jan tried to get Jarvis without success; not that she had much hope, for he was sure to be at some lecture, so she decided to phone later. She dressed, slipped out of the flat to shop for their evening meal and hurried back, tidying up, trying to make the flat look better than it must have done to Ludovic Fairlie. Somehow she kept seeing him in her mind and each time she felt certain she had seen him before, not only in the newspapers but in real life.The long day finally dragged out and Iris who shared the flat came home from work. "How smart the flat is," she teased as she came in, a short plump girl with blue eyes that matched her dress. "Did you feel like spring-cleaning?" They had met in a discotheque shortly after Felicity had gone to Cairns, with the company, to dance. Jan had been lonely, and, since she had left her job because of George, was rather hard up, so as Ins wanted somewhere to live it had seemed a perfect solution to share the flat. Iris would move in, but move out when Felicity returned. Iris had promised. Over their meal of grilled fish. Iris listened as Jan told her about the day. ."Not the Ludovic Fairlie," said Iris, her voice awed, her plump body tightly encased in the blue jeans and white shirt she always wore at home. "My, Jan, you really are going places. I didn't realise Jarvis was his nephew.""Yes, but they don't get on well." i3
"We've known one another such a short time," Iris said. "I've often wondered what made you and your sister come out here." Jan laughed, helping herself to more chipped potatoes."Love... just love," she joked, then half-closed her eyes, for the words still hurt. "Jarvis came over to England for a year to the university near us and he met Felicity. They fell in love and when Jarvis came back he asked Felicity to come out. My mothershe's a widow and runs a boutiquewasn't very keen on the idea, as Felicity wasn't seventeen then, so Mum suggested I came with my sister and we had a working holiday out here to give Felicity a chance to see if she really did love Jarvis." "She must miss you both," Iris said, collecting the plates, talking over her
shoulder as she got out the fruit salad Jan had left in the tiny fridge. "Your mum, I mean!" "She does. I write often. In a way, it was to help me, too," Jan said, twisting a fork slowly on the table, avoiding Iris's eyes. "You'll laugh at this, but my heart had been broken." "That makes it twice," said Iris. "Time you learned." "Don't worry," said Jan. "I'm never going to fall in love again. I hate menespecially men like Ludovic Fairlie." "I wouldn't mind him," Iris mused thoughtfully. "All that lovely lolly!" "Money isn't everything, Iris. Well, you see there was Frank. I grew up with him, so to speak. He lived next door and his mother was an invalid and he was always with us and . . . well, it was just one of those things. I took it for granted we would marry, have children and live happily ever after, and then I found I didn't love him and then...." "Then . . . ?" Iris sat down at the table, pushing Jan's fruit salad towards her. 14
"Then he agreed and told me that it was all childish nonsense, that I saw him as a myth." "A myth?" "He said I'd built up a dream-man image and made him fit it, and he wasn't my dream man." "So?" "So it was all over. Even though I was unsure, I felt absolutely shattered, because he didn't love me. You see I'd gone everywhere with him. Felicity always had boy-friends, she's terribly pretty, but I always had Frank, so I never needed a boy-friend. Mum thought it would do me good too, to come out here, and...." "You met George? Go on while I wash up," said Iris, gathering the plates. "Well, you know all that. I met George and was lost." Jan sighed. "I must have been frightfully naive to think he loved me." "He put on a very good act from what you said," Iris pointed out. "He sounds an absolute heel to me. I bet you he'll marry a stockbroker's daughter." "He did say if ever he married, it would be for a material reason." Jan glanced at the clock. "I must phone Jarvis. I've got to know what he's been up to, you...." She went to the phone and tried to get him, again without success. She turned to Iris, who was now kneeling on the ground, carefully pinning the pieces of a pattern to a wide strip of yellow and green silk. "What shall I do?" Jan asked worriedly. "If I'm to help Jarvis, I must know what he's told his mother about me." Iris sat back on her heels. "You think he's pretending it's you because he doesn't think they'll approve of Felicity?" "I don't know what to think," Jan tossed back her long dark hair, "but I must know what he's up to. Jarvis, I mean." "5
