by Margaret Way
'You can justify anything. So many people lately have spoken of my looks. How strange it is that I don't resemble anyone in the family.'
Marcia whirled, her chiffon skirt flaring. 'Is there something wrong, really, because you're not a blue-eyed blonde? Take it from me, you're the image of my mother!'
'Am I really?'
Marcia frowned, perturbed by the gravity of Morgan's expression. 'What on earth is all this about, Morgan?' Her smoky-grey gaze was intense and angry. 'I wish I had photos to show you, But unfortunately I haven't.'
'Isn't that just a bit odd? Most people have a photograph or two?'
'Are you doubting my word?' Marcia challenged.
'Why are you always on the run from me, Marcia? Sit down.'
Marcia did so, her porcelain cheeks flushing. 'Easy to see that old autocrat reared you. Sit down. How dare you give me orders in my own home?'
'I have a few rights, Mother. There's a lot of unfinished business between you and me.'
Marcia's face suddenly crumpled and she looked her age. 'I was feeling really good about this evening, Morgan. How could you?'
Morgan demonstrated her seriousness by pushing on. 'Why have you always created these barriers, Marcia? Kept me at such a distance?'
'Because E.J. wanted it,' Marcia cried desperately.
'How can a mother withdraw her love? I know I would never lose my child.'
'You know nothing about life yet, Morgan,' Marcia said flatly. 'Being very rich is a great start. No one can hold power over you for long. When I married your father I had just got over a very bad affair. I was alone.
I had nothing. Your father came along and I saw my chance. Under normal circumstances I would never have met him, but he was visiting one of the Reef islands at the very time I was there.'
'And what were you doing there?' Morgan asked, hearing this for the first time.
'Waitressing, if you must know.' Marcia flared. 'And you keep that to yourself. I've built up quite a reputation in this city. I had no past before I married into the Hartlands.'
'But the past is very real.' Morgan shook her raven head.
'I'm very good at putting things behind me, Morgan.' said Marcia bleakly.
Morgan looked away, blinking tears from her eyes. 'No one can deny that. I've come to you, Marcia, because you're the only mother I've got. I seem to be going through a period of distress.'
Instead of listening, Marcia gave an incredulous laugh. 'Really? And you one of the richest young women in the country!'
'I'd trade it all to be loved dearly. I have a brain, Marcia. Plenty of energy. I could make a good life for myself, like plenty of other people. The rich are a minority.'
Marcia laughed again. She came back and sat down, looking at Morgan with pity in her eyes. 'What would, you know about struggle? About being a woman, young and on your own? I know what a miser—E.J. was, but you always had his money behind you. You knew it was there, even if you couldn't touch it. You had an excellent education. More than I ever had. I had a pretty face. Men much prefer pretty women. It was the only bargaining power I had. You have millions!'
'Most of it is all tied up. 'I'm tied up, for that matter. To Ty.'
'And how is he now?' Marcia asked. 'Cecilia was the only one who was kind to me. Beautiful, golden Cecilia. She married Robert, you know, when your father loved her as well.'
'What?' Morgan's green eyes widened in shock. 'Clearly, darling, there's a lot you don't know. A tormented man, your father. He only married me as a way out. I couldn't complain. I married him for the same reason. It was a kind of pact. Everything went wrong with our lives.' Marcia's sigh was dredged up from the past. 'Believe what you will, Morgan, I was determined your life would be very different from mine. E.J. actually enjoyed taking you off me. The painfulness of it! But I was still too needy to go without the money. E.J. compelled me to get out.'
Morgan pressed a hand to her temple. 'But you just said you had money, Surely enough to take care of us both?'
Marcia flashed her a strange look. 'Your father changed his will. I didn't benefit at all. Neither did you.'
'But Cecilia said you did.'
'Cecilia was wrong.' Marcia smiled bitterly. 'The family believed what E.J. told them. I've never forgotten that reading, E.J. called me into his study, told me to sit down, unfolded the document and read it aloud without so much as a grain of pity. I got nothing.'
'But you could have contested it!' Morgan became excited. 'A wife is surely entitled to the largest part of her husband's estate.'
Marcia seemed intent on the magnificent diamond surrounded sapphire on her left hand. 'That's when E J. introduced his scheme. After a short time, when you went away to boarding-school, I was to leave Jahandra. I didn't care. I always hated it. So big and so lonely, and that terrible man. The frightful, remorseless part was that I had to leave you. That was the bargain. E.J. got a grandchild. I got the money.'
'You mean, yon sold me?' Even now all the old hurt flooded through her.
'I knew what it was like to be poor. It's bad enough on your own. It would have been impossible with a small child.'
'E.J. wasn't going to support me? His only grandchild?'
Marcia frowned, shifting in the yellow moire sofa. 'He was quite prepared to break off his relationship with both of us. His terrible nature would not allow Mm to show it, but he was particularly interested in you. I had the feeling he had you picked out for Ty even then.'
'For Ty?' Morgan's distressed cry echoed around the elegant room. 'But that's crazy!'
'Is it?' Marcia's expression was tense. 'I'm quite sure E.J. knew what he was about.'
'Marcia!' Morgan stared at her in disbelief. 'I've gone all my life thinking of Ty as my enemy, my rival.'
'Have you?' Marcia bit her lip. 'The rivalry was encouraged. E J. had to have his bit of fun.'
Morgan reached over and grasped her mother's hand. 'I am a Hartland, aren't I?'
'Of course you are!' Marcia declared explosively. 'Darling, would you release me, please? You're marking my hand. All that work around the station has made you terribly wiry.'
But Morgan was transfixed. 'Say it for me—as God is your witness, I am a Hartland.'
'Let go, Morgan.' Marcia's face looked deeply frightened. 'Say it!'
Marcia's silken cheeks were burning. 'Isn't this out of order? How could you be so disrespectful? What is it you're expecting to hear, some juicy scandal? Your father was some visiting musician?'
For a moment Morgan was sure she was about to faint. 'Why would you say that?' she whispered.
'Morgan!' Marcia could not ignore that pallor. 'What are you thinking about, darling?' she said in a rush. 'It was just something that came into my head. You've gone as white as a sheet. I'll get you a brandy.' She leapt up and went to an oval gilded table, pouring a measure of spirits into a crystal balloon. 'Here, darling, drink it. Why is all this so important to you? E.J. has kept his promise. You're rich. You can do anything you like. Go anywhere you like. Goodness, what more could you want?'
Morgan felt so strangely weakened, she swallowed most of the contents of the glass. It ran down her throat like liquid fire and instantly revived her.
'So you won't give me your word.' She handed Marcia the crystal glass.
'When it's not necessary, surely? This is madness, Morgan, Someone has put you up to it.'
'I've been listening to it all my life.' Morgan leaned forward, her beautiful hair clouding around her face.
'I'll try and find a photograph of my mother,' Marcia promised. 'She had just your slanted eyes.'
'What nationality was she?' Morgan demanded.
Marcia swung about angrily, the rope of pearls swinging around her neck. 'Irish, originally. That's where you get your temper. Plenty of the Irish have raven hair. You have to stop all this, Morgan. Thank God Philip wasn't here tonight. Imagine if you started all this in front of him. I can hardly bear to think about it.'
'He doesn't know you're a "scarlet woma
n".' Morgan gave a little broken spurt of laughter. 'Am I to take it, men, my father was a musician? Is that why I play so well?'
Marcia was obviously striving for composure. 'You're never satisfied, Morgan, unless you have a lot of drama. It's embarrassing, really. I suspect that dreadful girl— what's her name?—Camilla Ogilvie has been trying to upset you. Probably it makes her furious, the strong bond between you and Ty. She could even be out to challenge your inheritance. Have you thought of that?'
Morgan was trembling. 'No,' she said.
'You'd better believe it!' Marcia warned. There's always plenty of intrigue where there's money involved. Are you really going to play into her hands? Am I a Hartland? you ask. Of course you're a Hartland. Would E.J. have wanted you if you weren't? He would have tossed you out into the streets, with me. He was your grandfather, my dear. Have no fear of that.'
'And what of Ty?' Morgan could hardly force the words out.
'Darling, I know your torment.' Marcia looked down on her in her slender rose-pink suit, gold-belted, which revealed utterly beautiful dancer's legs. 'You're in love with him, aren't you?'
'The whole thing is crazy! I don't want to be in love with him. It's madness.'
Marcia shrugged. 'Love often is. I remember the first time I was in love. I thought I would die of it. Don't you think E.J. knew what he was doing, Morgan? He wanted you two to get married. You're an exceptional girl. You've proved it. E.J. put you through every test there is and you came out with flying colours. You're a fit person to take over where he left off. You're a fit mate for Ty.'
'For God's sake!' Morgan raged. 'Ty and E.J. fought continually. E J. did insane things to wreck Ty's plans.'
'Except he was testing Ty.' Marcia insisted. 'You forget I know how E.J.'s mind worked. He wasn't just going to hand a pastoral empire to you. He had to make you both tough. Trial by fire, I think it's called.
'Except marriage has never crossed our minds.'
'Until now?'
'Ty is very practical.' Morgan's slender fingers began to twist. 'He goes straight after what he wants. A merger would solve a lot of problems. Not the least of it, it would keep the fortune intact. I don't think Ty would celebrate if I married someone who might threaten the Hartland empire. He has to take care of it. That's his job.'
A slight smile curved Marcia's lips. 'Allow for his feeling for you, Morgan. Ty always was someone who knew his own mind. Much as the two of you were compelled to fight when it came to anyone else, and that included E.J., he was always in your corner. Ty cares for you, Morgan. I'm quite sure of that. Since you've spent a little time and money on yourself, you're a striking young creature. Tonight you could have been lifted from the pages of Vogue. You have style. I know I could find you a score of eligible young men to choose from if you so desire. Philip will be so proud to see you looking exactly right. It's absolutely stupid we've been apart so long. Why don't you stay on with me for a time? I could introduce you to society. Properly dressed, you have the air of a little princess. Perhaps a hide 01 the young Vivien Leigh.' Marcia broke off as a uniformed maid appeared in the. doorway.
'Dinner will be served when you're ready, Lady Ainsley.'
Marcia stood up, her white chiffon dress falling away from her slim waist. She held out a hand to Morgan. 'Thank you, Heaton. We'll come now. I don't think you've met my daughter. Isn't she beautiful?'
Morgan almost laughed. Now, when it didn't matter, Marcia's maternal instinct had been reawakened.
Chapter Six
Morgan sat in her chair facing the solicitor, her small face impassive but in reality intent on everything he had to say. She wouldn't rest until she knew for herself if E.J.'s will could be broken. It wasn't the money, as Ty had believed, but the deeply rooted longing to have something entirely to herself. As things stood, she felt at the point of crisis. Her headlong physical reaction to Ty had shown her the extreme difficulties of the future. Men were men and they usually took what they wanted. She was really on her own, no matter how closely she had been drawn to the twins in the past month. Ty was their brother. Their adored brother. They would do whatever he wanted.
'I understand your feelings, of course, Miss Hartland,' the senior partner of the law firm was saying, 'but you must face the fact that your grandfather was a highly respected man, a legend in his own lifetime, Hartland Holdings were his to dispose of as he pleased. Most people would see it as a fair will. Although your grandfather did not give you the controlling interest, your status has been generously recognised. I'm bound to tell you it is highly unlikely that if you decided to contest this will, you would succeed. What you would succeed in doing is paying out a lot of money without the desired resolution. Regarding Jahandra homestead, you could reach a private settlement with your cousin. In that respect the will isn't carved in cement. It's unusual to have arranged it in this way. Perhaps observing you together, your grandfather formed the opinion you might at some point marry. It's the only view that makes sense. Have you not considered that might have been his purpose?'
'It certainly appears like that,' Morgan agreed quietly, 'but the thought of marriage had never entered our minds.'
The solicitor frowned. I'm sorry I can't tell you what you obviously want to hear. My advice is to accept your grandfather's wishes and get on with your life.' Acceptance, a woman's theme-song. That evening the three girls were invited to a big charity function—dinner and a parade of overseas fashions— and afterwards their party decided to go on to a nightclub.
'Count me out,' Morgan told Sandra as the girls repaired their make-up in the powder-room. 'Graham's attentions are getting a little too hard to handle.'
'I think it's more like you're feeling blue.' Sandra turned to stare at her. 'You want to go back to Jahandra, don't you?'
Morgan smiled. 'I keep repeating I'm a country girl. 'I've enjoyed myself immensely, Sandy. You know I have, but I seem to have so many things on my mind.'
Ty promised he'd come for us.' Sandra said. 'I had a letter from him yesterday.' Sandra ran a comb through her shining curls. 'Oh, you didn't tell me.'
'You were out last night and this morning, and with all the preparations for this evening I forgot. Won't you come with us for a little while? We're all looking absolutely gorgeous. A pity to let it all go to waste.'
'I think I've had enough, thanks, Sandy. I'll never catch up with my sleep.'
'At your age!' Sandra scoffed, admiring their reflections in the mirrored wall. Sandra was wearing midnight-blue duchess satin with a deep heart-shaped neckline and long sleeves. Claire, talking happily at the opposite mirror, wore brilliant pink, and Morgan had allowed the twins to make her selection, a short, strapless evening dress in the shade that suited her best, emerald green.
'Legs like that need to be seen.' Sandra told her. That wasn't the only thing showing, Morgan thought. The faint swell of her breasts was provocative above the tightly fitting bodice with a row of tiny covered buttons running down one side, that single evening dress had cost more than she had formerly spent on herself in a year. She didn't own beautiful jewellery like the twins, so she had her long hair dressed in an updated chignon and wore a beautiful-hand-made silk flower decorated with brilliants low behind one ear. The colour had been dyed to match her dress and satin shoes exactly, and she had been receiving compliments all evening. Especially from Graham, He was an attractive, articulate young man. Why couldn't she take to him? Morgan suddenly had a sinking feeling she was going to go through the rest of her life like this.
Graham insisted on driving her home, and, as he had picked the girls up, Morgan didn't have a great deal of choice.
'Aren't you going to invite me in?' he asked laughingly as Morgan walked up the steps to the foyer of the apartment block. 'I never get to see you alone.'
'Graham,' Morgan said, 'I'm going back home in a day or two, You've given us a wonderful time, but the worst thing that could happen is for you to become interested in me.'
He stroked her silky arm. 'Ah, but I have
! What's the time? Gosh, it's early. You have no excuse not to invite me in for coffee. I always behave myself, Morgan. Well, most of the time!' His hazel eyes sparkled.
She took pity on him, shrugging. 'Coffee, then you must leave.'
'Absolutely!' he promised.
But being alone with her proved too exciting. In the lift he bent forward and kissed her cheek; his touch was very warm, solid, masculine. He was attractive, but not cataclysmic like a man she refused to think of. It was very quiet on the top floor, the decor a subtle deep pink and gold, and, as Morgan rummaged in her glittering evening purse for her keys, Graham suddenly put his arms around her, almost groaning into her hair. 'Ah, Morgan, what the hell am I going to do about you?'
'I told you. Forget about me.' Morgan put her hands over his, trying to prise them apart.
'I want you to know you're the best thing that has happened to me! I never expected to fall in love. Actually, I have my lite planned. Now.' you come along.'
'Passing ships, as they say. Please let me go, Graham.'
'It's not exactly crowded around here. Kiss me, Morgana You're a real femme fatale and I'm a victim.' He turned her in his arms, his hazel eyes alight with desire and sudden determination.
'I don't think I'll offer you coffee, after all,' Morgan said smartly.
'Why don't you give a little?' Graham urged her, pulling her closer. 'You're so bright and beautiful, yet you're a mystery. You don't allow anyone to come close 10 you. I never have the slightest difficulty with other girls, yet you haven't displayed one reaction.'
'I suppose I could slap you,' she suggested.
'I'm hooked on you, Morgan,' Graham breathed, and lowered his head.
Of course Morgan ducked, and as she pulled away, her shoe hitting the door, he grabbed at her hands, kissing them madly.
'Please, sweetheart, I didn't mean to frighten you.'
'You're not frightening me, Graham, but I'm not enjoying it.'
'Please let me come in,' he begged.
'Regretfully, no!'
'So I'll kiss von out here.' he declared. 'A man has to show who's boss!'
