by Margaret Way
Amelia continued to go into work. She had cases that had to be settled. She scheduled an appointment with her father. Even she had to make an appointment. Her father’s time was precious.
He looked up the minute she entered his spacious office. “Is everything okay, Amelia?” he asked, searching her face. “Please, darling, come and sit down.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Amelia took the chair opposite. “I won’t disturb you for long. I just wanted to tell you I’d like to fly to Adelaide to see Royce’s mother, if that’s okay with you.”
Jeremy frowned. “They’re estranged, aren’t they? Have been since he was a boy. Your mother has been busy filling me in. It must have been very hard for a child, losing his mother like that. Your mother’s far-flung sources have told her Charles Stirling was a very hard, unlikeable man. A very possessive man. No one dared look sideways at his beautiful wife.”
“I think she was frightened of him, Dad. I think that’s why she ran away.”
“Your mother would never have run anywhere without you,” Jeremy pointed out.
“I need to hear her story, Dad,” Amelia persisted. She was used to persisting and ferreting out the truth.
“Surely it’s Royce who needs to hear her story?” Jeremy said.
“The way things are, I believe he needs a go-between.”
“And he asked you?” From his expression, her father definitely did not approve.
“No, he did not.”
“Then he may not welcome your intervention, Amelia. I gather this is a very sensitive matter?”
“I’m prepared to take that risk.”
“There would be no risk if he truly loves you,” Jeremy pointed out.
“No risk.” Amelia was able to smile. “Maybe a few cross words. If I’m going to marry Royce, I can’t allow this situation to go on. I could never be parted from you and Mum, but then you’ve been the most loving supportive parents. Royce had a totally different upbringing, with a very harsh father who burdened him from boyhood with massive propaganda.”
Jeremy gave it a moment of quiet consideration. “I see that. He had to get his son on side. By the way, we received an email. Your Royce will be flying in next weekend. He wants to visit. He wants to speak to me. I hope it’s to ask your hand in marriage.”
“He’s a fine man, Dad. Everyone on Kooralya looks up to him. He has earned everyone’s respect. He is not his father. He even looks like his mother. It’s Jimmy who most resembles the Stirlings physically. Their aunt Anthea is a wonderful woman. We’ve become great friends.”
“You love the place, don’t you? Not everyone does. The heat, the isolation, the droughts, the floods.”
“The Outback has tremendous mystique, Dad. When you’re free, you and Mum have to come for a long visit. You know what they say: ‘If you never, never go, you’ll never, never know.’ Kooralya isn’t as far away as you think.”
“Well I can’t afford a Beech Baron like your Royce.” Jeremy actually smiled. “I have spoken about this to your mother. My workload has been getting heavier and heavier these past years. You know that. We’re both in our late fifties, although your mother looks nothing like it.”
“Neither do you, Dad. Are you going to tell me you’re thinking of retiring?”
“Well . . . yes,” Jeremy admitted. “I’m not spending half as much time as I would like with your mother. We have a wonderful time when we’re on vacation. Your mother is all for my retiring. She even has plans we drive around Australia. We’ve seen more of Europe and the U.S. than our own country.”
“I think that’s a great idea!” Amelia said, watching her father’s expression soften.
“Enjoy life while you’re both so wonderfully fit and healthy. We both know you’ve almost driven yourself to burnout.”
“That’s the price of being too successful, dear girl. Okay, then, Amelia. Take the time off to visit your future mother-in-law. If anyone can bring two people together, it’s you. I’ve seen it happen with your clients. You’re a born peacemaker.”
“What more could I ask?” said Amelia.
* * *
Amelia thought long and hard about ringing Frances Stirling beforehand to request a visit.
Finally, she decided on taking a taxi to Frances’s address. Frances didn’t live in an apartment. She maintained a residence in one of Adelaide’s prettiest suburbs. With any luck at all, Amelia might find her at home. If not, she would just have to try again, or ask a neighbour if Mrs. Stirling was at home or perhaps away.
The house sat comfortably with its neighbours, reflecting the prosperity of the Cathedral City. Amelia walked up the pathway to the house, butterflies flitting about in her stomach. Royce knew nothing about her plans, but she had difficulty letting go of her belief that, given goodwill on both sides, mother and son could be reunited. As a young woman, Frances had found herself in an impossible situation. She couldn’t have taken her son with her. He was at boarding school at the time. But she could easily have visited him there, requesting the headmaster to release her son into her care.
So what had happened?
She was about to find out.
She walked up to the door of the house, and knocked. Soon she heard footsteps headed her way. The door opened.
It was startling to see the woman Amelia had so admired in her early portrait. Frances Stirling was still a very beautiful woman, as Amelia’s own mother was. Both had the kind of bone structure that defied age, excellent unlined skin, good thick hair. Both had retained their elegant, slim figures.
“Can I help you, my dear?” the woman asked politely as Amelia stood momentarily speechless.
“Forgive me.” Amelia found her smile. “My name is Amelia Boyd, Mrs. Stirling. I live and work in Melbourne. I’ve flown here to see you. I felt I should. I’m marrying your son, Royce.”
The woman sucked in her breath. Her velvety dark eyes widened. “And you’ve sought me out?”
“Yes,” Amelia answered gently. “I do hope you don’t mind?”
“Does Royce know you’re here?” There was a measure of alarm in Frances’s voice.
“No, he doesn’t,” Amelia confessed. “But don’t worry. I’ve never fully understood your story, Mrs. Stirling. It grieves me you and Royce are estranged. I’ve come to see if we can talk about it.”
“Then you’d better come in, my dear.”
* * *
Frances Stirling did indeed have a tale of woe to tell. They sat companionably in the lovely airy living room over coffee, which Frances had insisted on making.
“With my own parents so supportive of Charles, I felt unable to turn to them for help, Amelia. You have loving, supportive parents?”
“I do.”
“You’re very fortunate. I had to turn to a close family friend, never a lover. Royce’s father, Charles, may have been obsessed with me, but there was so much unkindness, so much intimidation, I found married life increasingly unbearable. I stuck it out for my son’s sake, but when he was sent away to boarding school, the loneliness was unbearable. And there was the extreme isolation. It was like being a prisoner. Back then, I had decided I would take Royce out of school. I had some money. I could sell some pieces of jewellery. God knows I had enough, but when I finally arrived at Royce’s school, I was told by the headmaster he had been contacted by Mr. Stirling. Under no circumstances was he to allow me to take my son out of school. He was to call the police if need be.”
“So you were thoroughly warned off.”
“Indeed I was. The headmaster clearly believed I had come to kidnap Royce. I would have done it too. That’s the thing. The headmaster would have been told I had run away from the family home with my lover. I remember he looked at me as if he despised me. It was Charles who took Royce out of school. He brought him back to Kooralya.
“Charles was a terrible man when thwarted. He would have filled Royce’s head with endless lies. I could never go near Royce’s school again. I got the message. Don’t forget, the Stirling fami
ly had long been associated with the school. They were big financial supporters. Charles had real clout. I had none.”
“You were never able to seek Sir Clive Stirling’s help?” Amelia asked. “I understand he was a very fine man.”
“Oh, he was,” Frances agreed. “But Royce was the heir. In a small way, it was like Princess Diana running off with her boys. It wouldn’t have been allowed to happen. If Royce came to me, I might flee the country. If I didn’t manage to get away, I would certainly show my son a different way of life.” Tears sprang into the great dark eyes. “There was a time I feared for my life. Harry, my friend, escaped overseas. Charles was a violent man. It was a great mercy he had to run the station. He couldn’t be long away. It would have been Sir Clive who steered Royce into adulthood. Then Anthea came to stay. A good woman, but she could never have gone against her brother. No one did. The poor woman Charles married after must have had a ghastly time.”
“She did. So did her son, James.”
“She still lives on the station?” Frances asked, trying to collect herself.
“Yes. She’s a quiet little woman. James, we call him Jimmy, married my adopted sister, Marigold. A disaster that should never have happened. They will be getting a divorce. I was Marigold’s bridesmaid. They were married on Kooralya.”
“Where you fell in love with my son?”
“At first sight,” Amelia admitted with considerable feeling. “Though it wasn’t smooth sailing. Still isn’t, until we sort a few things out. Why didn’t you contact Royce at university, Mrs. Stirling?”
“Frances, please. Royce didn’t answer any of my letters. I was told he hated me. Really hated me. He never wanted me back after his father died. I gave up.”
“Who told you he hated you, Frances? That sounds so cruel.”
“The wife of one of Kooralya’s neighbours,” Frances said quietly, with a bent head.
“She doesn’t have a daughter, Charlene, does she?” Amelia didn’t know, but she thought it worth a stab in the dark.
“That’s right.” Frances momentarily closed her eyes in thought. “Little Charlene. Such a pretty little thing. She and Royce were hardly more than babies when Stella began to make plans to marry them off together. Stella was that kind of woman.”
“She still is, apparently,” Amelia said. Royce’s mother was just as she had pictured her. She had taken to her at once. Frances was her late husband’s victim. “Royce loves you, Frances,” she said softly. “He’s still very conflicted, but he does love you. I know. That’s why I’m here. I would say he didn’t receive any of the letters you sent to his university. Someone could have been paid to collect them. I’m sure he would have told me had he received your letters. He didn’t. What it boils down to is he truly believes you wrote him off. I mean, can you imagine how his father would have raved and ranted? Royce had to cope with all that from a young age. It all went very horribly wrong. Jimmy suffered. Royce suffered in his own way, but he’s a far stronger man than Jimmy. The thing is, you’ve been mourning your son. Royce has been mourning you. Let me try to bring you together.”
Frances drew a sad, resigned breath. “It won’t work, Amelia. Others have tried.”
“Extended family. Yes, I know. I do have a tremendous advantage, Frances. Royce loves me.”
Frances went to speak, but there were so many tears gathered in her throat, her voice had shut down.
Impelled by a rush of sympathy, Amelia rose from her armchair to join Frances on the sofa. She took the older woman’s hand. “I can do this, Frances. Will you trust me?”
Frances’ little sob turned into a laugh. “I do. Yes, Amelia, I do. I’ve prayed for someone like you.”
“Well I’m here now,” said Amelia the crusader.
* * *
Royce emerged from Jeremy Boyd’s study after a good thirty minutes of close conversation. Amelia could only hope it hadn’t turned into an interrogation. If so, Royce would probably shut it down.
“Relax, sweetheart,” Ava said. “I imagine your Royce is a match for anyone. Even your father. I should tell you now, your father expects you to be married from home. You will have to have a second celebration on Kooralya.”
“If we get married at all,” Amelia only half-joked.
Eventually, both men emerged, both smiling.
Amelia could breathe again.
* * *
They could have had dinner in one of the city’s many fine restaurants. Instead, they elected to go back to Amelia’s apartment. The eyes told it all. After a couple of weeks of separation, they needed to be together. Alone.
“So it went well?” Amelia asked as she drove out onto the street. Her parents had waved them off. That was a great sign. She knew she would marry Royce no matter the strength of any opposition, but the last thing she wanted was to marry without her parents’ blessing. “Come on, I have to know.”
“Well, I had to agree to our wedding being held here in Melbourne,” Royce said. “No problem. You wish to be married from home?”
“Ideally, yes.”
“So, yes it is. The time passed quickly. We actually got onto world affairs.”
“What, you weren’t asked how much you love me?”
“Your father didn’t need to ask, Amelia,” Royce said dryly. “I would have liked to get married sooner, only I had to agree to a three-month wait.”
“But it will take all of that time to arrange the wedding,” Amelia said. “I’m only going to be a bride once.”
“I should hope so.”
“I want you to remember me as I’ll look on that day for the rest of our lives.”
“Count on it,” he touched a finger to her cheek, his touch as electric as a kiss. “Now can we get home please. I’m absolutely mad to make love to you. For hours and hours.”
“That can be arranged.”
* * *
Royce sliced fillet steaks while Amelia put together a salad. She had bought a really good bottle of shiraz from Hunter Valley to compliment the meal. She intended to wait until after they had coffee before she told him about her visit to Frances.
“What are you keeping from me? Royce pinned her shimmering green eyes. “Tell me.”
“Who said I’m keeping anything from you?” She was suddenly very nervous.
“What is it?” he repeated his glance leaping over her face.
“Let’s sit on the sofa.”
He followed her. “You’ve been up to something.” He sat in a corner of the sofa, drawing her back against him.
Amelia put her arms and her hands over his. “I went to see your mother.”
Royce sat up straight, forcing her to do the same. “You’re joking, aren’t you?”
“I’m dead serious.” She looked at him.
“Amelia!” he groaned. “I didn’t want you going anywhere near my mother.”
“Well, I have. What are you going to do about it?”
“This is too much!” he said, standing up like a man on the point of leaving.
“She’s just as I imagined her, Royce,” Amelia said. “She’s a lovely woman.”
“Is she?” he asked bitterly.
“Face it, Royce. You can’t stand there and tell me who I should and should not meet. We’re getting married, aren’t we?”
He didn’t answer.
“I’ll sue you for breach of promise if you call it off.”
He dismissed that out of hand. “There’s no such thing anymore.”
“Maybe not, but it was a good idea at the time. Men being what they are. All you’ve heard about your mother was totally warped. She was a victim, Royce. Why can’t you see that? Please sit down again. You’ve really got to hear this. I love you. I wouldn’t hurt you for the world, but I’m not going to allow you to bury your head in the sand.”
“Really? In the sand?” he questioned, his handsome face saturnine. “You think you can call the shots?”
“Sit down. Please. Just hear me out.”
“God, Ameli
a!” He lowered his tall frame back onto the sofa.
She took his hand. Lifted it. Kissed it. “Did you know your mother went to your school to get you out? The headmaster warned her off. Your father had already been in contact with him. He was told your mother would attempt to kidnap you. He was to call the police.”
Something flickered on Royce’s face. “I don’t believe this. The headmaster had met my mother many times.”
“It was your father who had the clout. She was turned away.”
He hardened in an instant. “She could have been lying to you, Amelia,” he said his tone brittle.
“No. I’m a very perceptive woman. I fell in love with you, didn’t I? You would believe your mother if you met her. She sent many letters to you when you were at university.”
“Now that is a lie,” he said bluntly. “I never got a one.”
“Couldn’t someone have been paid to intercept them?” Amelia searched his darkly tanned face.
“Like who?” he challenged.
“The purser?” she suggested. It was worth a shot. “Pursers collect all the mail for distribution—”
“Pursers don’t pry into student’s affairs,” he said with cool deliberation.
“They certainly do. Another thing you should know. Your friend Charlene’s mother, Stella Warrender?”
“What about her?” Royce fired back.
“She met up with your mother somewhere, a function maybe, and told her you hated her. You never wanted to see her again. She would never be welcome on Kooralya.”
“Amelia, darling,” he groaned. “Why would Stella Warrender do that?”
