by Margaret Way
“Oh?” She turned on him tormented, tear-filled blue eyes. “It was ghastly. Even if Jimmy had been with me, I would have warned him away. It was women’s business. Melly didn’t come.” Now there was anger and indignation written all over her. “I can never forgive that. Melly is responsible for so much.” She was crying in earnest now. Sputtering, ruining her expertly applied make-up. “She needs bringing down.”
Royce whipped out a clean, white handkerchief, passed it to her.
Marigold used it, went to pass the handkerchief back.
Royce waved it away. “I have no wish to upset you, Marigold. We all react in different ways. Jimmy is heartbroken.”
“As he should be!” Marigold spoke with considerable wrath. “He has to pay for the way he treated me.”
“He is paying, Marigold,” Royce assured her. “Maybe he married you because of the pregnancy?”
“He didn’t have to,” Marigold rallied. “I didn’t twist his arm. It was Melly who did that. She made him believe it was his duty to marry me now that I was pregnant with his baby. He enjoyed having sex with me. Then he had to pay for it. Not that I could have stood a chance against Melly. She captivates every man she meets. Jimmy was a push-over.”
“You’re saying my brother was intimate with Amelia?”
Marigold gave one of her unattractive snorts. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. A man doesn’t get that way without sex. It may have been just the once, but poor old Jimmy very naturally craved more. Melly is a very sexy lady.”
“Why then did you make out she was short on admirers? You did that, before we met her.” Royce stared directly into Marigold’s blue eyes.
“A joke, Royce,” She gave a thin smile. “A joke. You would have seen at once Melly is a woman who breaks hearts. She’s a professional in that regard. The guy she’s with, Oliver, is as crazy about her as Jimmy is. She’ll never marry him. She’ll move on. I hope that’s been helpful.”
Royce stood up, thinking how dangerous Marigold could be. “I’m taking James back to Kooralya with me,” he said.
“Good.” Marigold nodded her approval. “He needs to get himself together. I intend to divorce him, Royce. I’m sure you understand? It’s impossible now to save our marriage.”
“No miraculous reconciliation,” Royce said with some irony. “The marriage didn’t work from day one, Marigold.”
Marigold shot him an intense look, as though pleading for understanding. “It might have worked had Melly left us alone,” she said.
Royce didn’t believe anything would have come of his brother’s brief affair with Marigold if she hadn’t gotten pregnant. He walked to the door, where he paused. “As James’ wife, you have a claim. You’re talking divorce?”
“Indeed.” The breathy voice turned strident.
“You will naturally be expected to provide proof of your pregnancy,” Royce said, waiting on her reaction. That appeared to be far more than Marigold had ever imagined. She looked aghast.
“What on earth are you talking about, Royce?” She stood, frozen.
“I’m only letting you know proof would be required, that’s all. You would be doing yourself a service, Marigold,” he added, smoothly. “You lost your baby. You fully intend to claim Jimmy was having an affair with your adoptive sister. You were so distressed and unhappy about the situation, as any woman would be, you lost your baby. A tragedy for an expectant mother. There’s only your word for the pregnancy, however. I’m preparing you for what you’ll be asked by lawyers, Marigold. Your solicitor, when you get one, will advise you. Jeremy Boyd, the father figure who adopted you, is a highly respected lawyer. He would be there for you, surely?”
Marigold’s expression contorted. “As if I’d ask him! Never in a million years would he bring scandal down on his beloved daughter. He’d kill me before he allowed that.”
“Such an accusation! I wouldn’t repeat it, Marigold. Your privilege as an adopted daughter wouldn’t extend so far. Find the best lawyer you can,” he suggested, his hand on the door.
That was the moment Marigold let her guard down utterly. “It’s going to cost you,” she shot back with a look of pure spite.
“You think I don’t know that, Marigold?” Royce said, unimpressed. “Good day to you. I won’t keep you from your shopping. I see you’ve already run up excessively high bills.” His voice was so quiet and calm, it took a second or two for the comment to sink in, and then she laughed.
“So what? Jimmy’s rich!”
“Only you’re not dealing with my brother now, Marigold. You’ll be dealing with me.”
“That’s wonderful!” said Marigold. “You’re the only one in the family I can trust.”
Chapter 5
Amelia drove to Melbourne’s Tullamarine Airport to pick up her parents and bring them home. She had stocked the fridge so they wouldn’t have to go out for a day or two. Seasoned travellers though they were, they would be tired after the long one-stop flight from Leonardo da Vinci International Airport in Rome. She hoped it had been a good flight, though as a family, they had all experienced far more jet lag on flights from Europe than flying there.
It was a long wait until Amelia finally saw her parents emerge from Customs, her tall, distinguished-looking father with his thick shock of prematurely white hair, pushing a laden trolley. Their faces lit up the instant they caught sight of her. Amelia loved her parents with her whole heart. She was so proud of them and their accomplishments. A handsome couple, they were in their late fifties. Not young anymore. She couldn’t go near the thought of one day having to lose them.
* * *
They were home in their leafy affluent suburb in just more than 25 minutes. Both her parents had asked after Marigold, as expected, but she had made the decision not to worry them until they were properly rested. All she said in answer to her mother’s enquiry about Marigold was, “She’s well, Mum.”
“She’s grown away from us, hasn’t she?” her mother said.
“I don’t think Marigold ever wanted to be one of us.” Her father spoke as though he too was beset by the knowledge. “I can’t for the life of me think who Marigold takes after! It’s certainly not Grace and Ian.”
In the kitchen, Amelia opened the fridge door to reveal the contents. Ham. Chicken. A dozen eggs. Milk. Butter. Cream. A selection of cheeses. Salad ingredients in the crisper. In the pantry, marmalade and Vegemite. Freshly ground coffee. Fresh bread. An assortment of pastas.
“Thank you, darling.” Ava Boyd wrapped her arms around her daughter. Ava was a beautiful woman who still turned heads. She had passed her blond beauty onto her daughter along with her high intelligence, her sense of humour, and her loving nature.
“What about if I take you both out for dinner tomorrow night?” Amelia suggested.
“That would be lovely,” her father said, stifling a yawn.
“I’ll pick you up around seven. Leo’s, okay?”
“Couldn’t be better. We can discuss Marigold then.”
Her parents walked her to her car. “Drive safely, darling,” Ava said, kissing her daughter on the cheek. “Let’s have a good night’s sleep before we hear about Marigold’s antics.” She spoke lightly, never guessing what Amelia had to tell them.
Amelia’s expression was sombre as she drove away. This was one story she didn’t want to tell, but she would have to bite the bullet. She couldn’t lie to her parents. They were too astute, for one thing, and they knew the changeling who was Marigold.
* * *
It was a weeknight, yet the restaurant, one of three Leo owned, was full, but not packed. Leo, short for Leonardo, was present that night. He greeted them, showing them to their window table and asking after the trip. Leo, Milan-born, was a globetrotter. He always credited his mother for instilling in him a passion for food. At sixteen, he had been apprenticed at one of the finest restaurants in Europe. When he met and fell in love with an Australian girl ten years later, he shifted to Melbourne, where he had opened a small restaurant
. It was a risk that had paid off. Leonardo was a world-recognised chef and an award-winning author. They were anticipating a delicious, imaginative meal.
Her parents were looking rested, all smiles. They had greatly enjoyed their holiday, but, as ever, they were glad to be home. What a pity it was she had to tell them about the mess Marigold had made of her life.
“Okay, you can unburden yourself now,” her father said after they had finished their main course and the dishes had been removed. They had decided to wait a while before they settled on any one of the delicious sweet treats on the trolley that was being wheeled about.
“Am I that transparent?” she asked, with a wry smile.
“No, not at all. But we do know Marigold,” Jeremy said.
“I just hope it’s not bad.” Ava’s nerves were suddenly on edge.
Both her parents settled in to hear what Amelia had to divulge about their adopted daughter.
“This is as bad as it could be,” Jeremy Boyd said, when Amelia stopped talking. He was wondering where they could possibly have gone wrong raising Marigold.
“This poor young man, Jimmy, has to know there was no baby. It will make him very angry, but it might ease his suffering,” Ava said.
Amelia sighed. “The last time I saw Jimmy, I’d say he was on the verge of a total breakdown.”
“That’s very troubling,” Jeremy said, with a frown. “You say his brother, half-brother, is a strong, compassionate man? I’ve heard of the Outback Stirlings, of course. Cattle kings in their legendary heartland, the Channel Country. The father, from all accounts, was a very unpleasant man. Apparently, no one dared go against him. The word was, Frances Stirling left the station fighting for her survival. It was a terrible tale. She lives in Adelaide, I believe. She never did marry the chap she was alleged to have run off with. Odd!”
“Jimmy’s mother, Sally, the second wife, still lives on Kooralya. It’s easy to see she was another one of her late husband’s victims, totally dominated, too scared to be protective of her son all the while he was growing up. I don’t think Jimmy would have survived without Royce. Royce is made of stern stuff. Jimmy idolizes him.”
“So, one brother living in the shadow of the other,” Ava said. “We’ll have to speak to Marigold.” Her incredible emerald eyes, passed on to her daughter, darkened at the thought. It was enormously upsetting to find out Marigold had kept them completely in the dark about her relationship with James Stirling, let alone that she’d gotten married and hadn’t even invited them. She and Jeremy would never have made their annual trip to Italy had they known. Jeremy should have been the one to give Marigold away. Jeremy was the closest thing to a father Marigold had known since the death of Grace and Ian.
“She’s after a divorce,” Amelia repeated quietly.
“She’d be a fool if she thought the Stirlings—Royce Stirling— will prove a push-over.” Jeremy’s calm voice overrode his mounting concerns. “So it was money Marigold was after?”
“Becoming Mrs. James Stirling, with unlimited money, was her great ambition in life.”
“Anyone would think she had been raised in a desperately poor family,” Ava said.
Jeremy lifted his eyebrows, but didn’t say more.
* * *
Amelia punched the gate code to let them in. They had arrived back at the Boyd’s large, Mediterranean-style house set off by a freshly mown lawn and flowering garden beds. She had supervised the upkeep while her parents were away.
The exterior security lights lit up the front of the house and picked up Marigold’s petite figure. She was standing outside, obviously waiting for their return.
“Here’s trouble,” Ava said, her hand straying to the string of Tahitian pearls around her neck. The gesture calmed her. Marigold was no longer an adolescent, dependent on family support. Marigold was a twenty-four-year-old young woman who clearly didn’t have any regard for her adoptive family.
Marigold didn’t go to them. She waited for the family to come to her.
Short of stature though she was, the set of her body raised alarm signals. Marigold was there to make trouble.
“Welcome home, Mr. and Mrs. Boyd,” she called.
“Hard to understand her,” Ava said with a sigh. “You’re not concealing a weapon, are you, Marigold?” She walked right up to the daughter on whom they all had lavished their love, time, and attention.
“Heavens, no, Mummy!” Marigold laughed aloud.
“So many disturbed young people arming themselves these days.” Jeremy came alongside, taking Marigold’s arm by the elbow. “We’ll go inside, shall we?” The invitation fairly crackled.
“Fine by me, Dad.”
They took their places in the cool gracious living room. Jeremy and Ava sat together on one sofa. Marigold took the other, while Amelia sank into the arm chair nearest her parents, preparing herself for Marigold’s bluster. They all waited for her to tell them why she was here so late at night. The walnut grandfather clock in the hallway had chimed eleven bells moments after they had walked in.
“Melly has told you all about it, hasn’t she?” Marigold looked flushed, excited. She could even have been drinking. She was wearing a cling-to-every-curve silk dress in the same shade of blue as her eyes. Metallic, gold, high-heeled sandals were on her feet. She was also wearing some very expensive-looking gold jewellery none of them was familiar with. She had never looked so chic. Nor in such good health.
There had been no sign of her car on the street, although they hadn’t given the street much attention. No car parked in the driveway. She must have taken a cab.
“You can go one better. You can tell us, Marigold,” Jeremy said.
“I bet she didn’t tell you my husband is madly in love with her.” Marigold pointed an accusing finger at Amelia.
Ava cut in swiftly. “We’re talking about you, Marigold. Not Amelia.” This was standard Marigold. Changing the discussion away from her. “Your husband may well be in love with Amelia, but Amelia isn’t in love with him or anyone else, for that matter. I would know. She would tell me.”
“You can’t find it in you to criticize Melly in any way? You’re both so proud of her.” Marigold managed to make it sound like Jeremy and Ava were totally witless.
“With very good reason, Marigold,” Jeremy said. “I have a question for you. Why did you allow your husband of just over a month to believe you had miscarried your child?”
Marigold gave a bizarre crack of laughter. “Because I did.”
“No, you didn’t,” Ava broke in. “You must put an end to all these lies, Marigold.”
Marigold’s smile resembled a cat’s. “Do you know how much the Stirlings are worth?” she asked with glittering blue eyes.
“So you’re admitting it was all about money?” Jeremy’s expression was grave.
“Millions,” Marigold said, as if she hadn’t heard him. “Millions and millions. The cattle station is little more than their home base. What it brings in is nothing compared to a huge portfolio of investments. They’re filthy rich! I’ll be demanding my fair share.”
“So you went after James Stirling determined to get him, whatever it took?” Ava asked quietly, recognizing the ring of emotional blackmail.
“It’s been done before, Mummy dear.” Brazenly, Marigold looked Ava right in the eye.
“Your mother, my dear friend, Grace, would have been ashamed of you, Marigold,” Ava said.
“She’s not around, is she? She hasn’t been around for yonks. I had to come up the hard way.”
“Stop a moment there.” Jeremy cracked out the order. “You’re talking nonsense. Most people would say you had a privileged upbringing.”
“I’d have given anything to have had my own parents.” Marigold blinked at the severity of Jeremy’s tone. “I didn’t need it drilled into me how good you all are. I’m divorcing Jimmy.” She looked from one to the other as though they intended to stop her. Physically, if need be. “Melly would have told you. My story is I lost the ba
by. Jimmy believes it. He’s not worth your sympathy. He was horrible to me.”
“Not true,” Amelia broke in. “Jimmy wouldn’t know how to be horrible, whereas you’re horrible for fun.”
“You need to lighten up, Melly,” Marigold scoffed. “Royce called on me before he took his pathetic brother off home. Did you know that? Royce is definitely on my side.”
“Then you’ve misread him, Marigold,” Amelia cringed at the thought of what a vindictive Marigold might have said about her to Royce. “Royce loves his brother. I’d say he knew what game you were playing from the moment you met.”
“I told him all about you and Jimmy,” Marigold continued, apparently for the sheer pleasure of it. “It’s not as though anyone missed the way Jimmy kissed you at our wedding reception. I have never felt so humiliated. What kind of a man kisses the bridesmaid passionately in front of his bride and all their guests? You always did try to drive a wedge between me and every boyfriend I ever had. You mesmerized poor, old Jimmy. He didn’t stand a chance. Royce knows all about you, Melly. You were Jimmy’s, what was it again?’ She tapped her forehead. “I’ve got it! Jimmy’s golden enchantress. I reckon he got it from some poem.”
Jeremy Boyd was ignoring her rant. “You will have to prove you were pregnant, Marigold,” he said. “Can you prove it?”
“How would anyone know?” Marigold countered with wide-open eyes. “One in five women miscarry in the first trimester, I’ve been told.”
“Not you, by any doctor,” Amelia said. “The first thing a woman who suspects she’s pregnant would do is consult her doctor to be assured all was well. For once, you told me the truth, Marigold. You were never pregnant. You used that as an excuse to get Jimmy to marry you. Another man might have laughed in your face. Denied you were pregnant by him. They wouldn’t have fallen so easily into the trap.”
“Okay. Okay!” Marigold threw up her hands. The huge solitaire diamond in the engagement ring she had chosen flashed its brilliance. “I want a promise from you, my family, that we stick to my story. I miscarried when Jimmy was away. He accepted it. Royce may have appeared not so accepting, but with you, Melly, to back me, the problem will go away. It was Jimmy who screwed up. Pardon the pun. It would serve no good purpose to tell him there was no baby after all. Many women have phantom pregnancies. Perfectly respectable women. I truly believed I was pregnant.”
