by Margaret Way
'Of course you would. You take to anyone I don't fancy. How ever did she get so friendly with Ty?'
'He encouraged her,' Morgan said simply. 'Oh, my God!'
'It's obvious they're having a good time.' Morgan pointed out with a sideways glance. 'If I were you, Camilla, I'd forget Ty. You're spoiling your life.'
But Camilla was heedless. 'You haven't changed a bit, have you?' she said almost bitterly. 'Under the new chic is Ty's little imp of a cousin.'
'All right,' Morgan shrugged. 'You won't let me help you. If you're not happy you can always leave.'
'I'm here at Cecilia's invitation.' Camilla gave her a haughty stare.
'With my forbearance.' Morgan said patiently. 'I know you think I'm trying to get at you, but I'm not an unkind person. I mention it because I can't bear to see one of my own sex get hurt. Ty doesn't love you, Camilla. You can't change that. There's not enough time in the world for it. Why don't you concentrate on Mark Stannard? He finds you attractive.'
'Oh, you're clever, aren't you?' Camilla flushed, it will be the day when I take advice from you.'
'I can easily cross you off my birthday list,' Morgan said tartly.
'You wouldn't!' Camilla looked shocked.
'Well...I suppose the invitations have gone out. Sarah and Ian are staying for the gala.'
'They're what?' Camilla's cheeks were the clear red of her dress.
'We thought it would please Ty.'
'Oh, you little bitch!'
Morgan gave a little twirl to escape. Camilla wouldn't accept the truth, not even if they got the Pope to present it.
Yet the dinner party turned out a great success. Their guests were not returning home until the following day, so there was no reason to call a halt.
'One would think it always looked like this!' Sue Tyson announced, looking around the magnificent dining-room which was enormously enlivened by recoloration, splendid new drapes and a reshuffling of paintings and ornaments.
'How nice of you to say so.' Sarah flashed a brilliant look towards her host. 'That's what one aims for, of course. The woman Ty marries will inherit a marvellous house.'
'She'll have me for a start,' Morgan added mischievously.
'I don't believe a word of it!' Sarah laughed promptly. 'I'm convinced you'll be married before you're twenty- two.'
'Hear, hear!' Pat lifted his wineglass, his smile besotted. 'Just one trip to Sydney and she's come back a raving beauty.'
'Sweet of you to say so.' Morgan returned the gesture.
'What do you think, Ty?' Pat looked towards the head of the gleaming table. 'What do you think of your little madcap cousin now?'
Ty looked at her with his intensely blue eyes, 'I never doubted for a moment she could look like this. In fact, I've never had a complaint at any time.'
Sarah's glowing head swung back sharply at his tone. The indulgence in his handsome face was on open display. But then she could have sworn something more significant was determinedly concealed. Astonishment set in.
It was well after two before the household finally retired, already agreeing to meet for a late brunch. Morgan hung her dinner dress up, a short plum silk brocade, very simple, with a wide toning waistband to show off her tiny waist. The fabric was beautiful and it suited her colouring, lending plum lights to the raven sheen of her hair and contrasting with her skin and her emerald eyes. Towards the end of the evening Pat had become very excited, flushed of face and faintly slurred of voice, asking her how long it was going to be before she agreed to marry him. No matter what she said, he persisted with it as though her objections were to be expected but of no real consequence. It was obvious he was taking it as a preliminary game. How smug was the male! Yet no blinder than a female. If looks could kill, Sarah would have been neatly laid out.
Morgan was on the point of climbing into bed when she thought to check if there was sufficient wall lamps left on m the corridors. Switches weren't all that easy to find in strange houses. Someone might wish to get up during the eight. She opened her door and peered out. Thrust Cecilia to think of it. She was just about to withdraw when she saw Sarah emerge from her bedroom wearing a remarkable blue satin and lace peignoir over a matching nightgown. Morgan-caught the gleam of lipstick, so obviously she wasn't yet ready for bed. Sarah didn't even look her way. She swept away in the direction of the double stairway, her hair glowing deepest crimson.
Interesting! For complex reasons Morgan decided to follow her. She had the sinking feeling Sarah was going in search of Ty, and she was proved to be right. Life was full of the most fearful shocks. She crept along the corridor' then peered over the banister, looking down towards the wide entrance hall. The triple archway blocked a lot of her view, but she heard Sarah's nicely judged exclamation of surprise.
'Oh, Ty! I thought everyone was in bed.'
Liar! Morgan collapsed back, Ty had the eyes of an eagle hawk.
'Can I help you, Sarah?' Morgan heard him ask.
'Aspirin. I find I have a slight head.'
It wasn't original, but it was a start. They moved off and Morgan flew down the stairs, saved in the nick of time by an eight-panelled coromandel screen. She slipped behind it as they moved back into the hallway.
'I didn't realise there would be some in the bathroom,' Sarah said. 'I rarely open a medicine chest.' A slight pause, 'I thought everything went off terribly well tonight.'
'It did.' Ty's voice was sexy and smooth. 'Thank you for your contribution.'
'Any time.' Sarah's voice too was low and husky. 'This is really my kind of house.'
'We'll be more than happy to give you the highest recommendation.'
Quite-rightly, Morgan fumed.
'You're awful, Ty. Cruel.’ You know how much Pm attracted to you.'
'No. I had no idea.'
Morgan could just see his mocking smile.
'All right.' Sarah gave a guilty little laugh. 'You know I came down in the hope of seeing you.'
'You're a very attractive woman, Sarah,' he told her, in Morgan's opinion egging her on.
Oh, you bastard! she thought wrathfully. How frightful that her vision was limited. She could only see through the crack between panels.
'And determined,' Sarah confirmed. 'You'd better be prepared for that.'
'I won't hold it against you.'
Sarah gave a little excited moan. 'At least won't you kiss me for my trouble?'
'Certainly.'
Just like that! No hesitation.
Morgan didn't understand how he did it, but he turned Sarah so that even her voluptuous figure was completely obscured by his superior height and the width of his shoulders.
Oh, you fiend! It was hard for Morgan not to dash out from behind the screen and proclaim his infamy to the heavens. She would like to tip the screen on him, but it was very heavy.
'Goodnight, Ty,' Sarah said in a voice so subdued that she must have been kissed senseless.
'Goodnight, Sarah. Pleasant dreams.'
I'll bet! Morgan was sure Sarah had the Arabian Nights in mind.
She fell back against the wall, waiting for the soft pad of Sarah's footsteps to subside. Obviously Sarah didn't fall into bed on a first date. Take your time and make sure of it.
'When are you going to decide to come out?' Ty's voice asked acidly.
'When I know your girlfriend's gone,' Morgan called angrily.
Ty walked across to the screen, got one hand behind it and yanked her out. i know you had woeful training, but this takes the cake.'
'I had nothing better to do,' she said fierily.
'My poor little Morgan, you're jealous!'
'I'll survive. You're a real skunk.'
'Come on.' he jeered. 'The party's not over. Sarah is a very attractive and worldly woman.'
'So how come you're not joining her later?'
'Sometimes I don't understand myself. I was certainly invited.'
'I know. I was behind the screen all the time.' Her great green eyes flared.
'
Did you think I didn't recognise the feet? Who else has child's feet? Who else would hide behind a screen to check on my behaviour?'
'I'm like you, I trust no one.' Morgan said arrogantly, flashing daggers.
'So why do you look as if you're about to cry?'
'That's not sorrow, Ty, that's disgust!'
'You get very disgusted about nothing.' he said testily.
'Do you men know anything about monogamy?'
'So who's married?'
'And when you do, move out. I was here before you.'
'Don't flash malevolence at me, you little imp.' He scooped her up bodily and bore her back into the drawing-room. 'Do you think you could try to curb your imagination' or at any rate, keep your voice down? It's as clear as a bell.'
'You think the rules are different for men?' she demanded, flinging her hair back.
'This is a party. At parties one is supposed to have a lot of fun.' 'I'll show you fun!'
'No, I’ll show you.' he ground out. 'It's the only way I can keep you quiet.'
And that was the way Camilla found them, Ty kissing Morgan savagely, while her slender arms flailed away at his tautly muscled back. So intent were they on one another, Camilla had to rush at them with blazing, hate-filled eyes.
'Oh, I knew it! I’ve always known it!'
Ty lifted his dark golden head, his inner turbulence equalled by a hard exasperation.
'What the hell are you on about, Camilla? And what are you doing down here? Don't you women ever go to bed, or do you prefer swanning around in next to nothing?'
Camilla stared at him with the greatest intensity. 'And now we know who you prefer,' she cried venomously, throwing off all pretence of playing the guest.
'You saw yourself as a contender?' he drawled arrogantly, lifting his head in a characteristic high-mettled gesture.
Camilla ignored him. 'All that antagonism!' she moaned, it only concealed this!'
'And what's this?' Morgan demanded, nearly incandescent with rage. 'How dare you rush around my house taking all and sundry to task? It's quite disgusting. I told you your mad passion was all on one side.'
'Ty and I had reached an understanding,' Camilla blazed.
'Twaddle!' Morgan was burning with frustration. 'Utter balderdash. Ty has a whole cupboard full of women. One of them was just down here in a nightgown that would leave yours for dead. Diaphanous, I tell you. I could see the freckles on her.'
'I'm not worried about that decorator person,' Camilla flashed, 'so spare me your little tricks. Ty has never held me like he was just holding you.'
'Where are your wits? You're too tall, that's why. He thinks he can throw me around like a doll.'
Ty gave a maddened laugh. 'This is like something out of an American soap. I'm down here quietly turning out lights, and I'm attacked by no less than three women wearing minimal clothing. If I've learnt anything, it's try and steer clear of them.'
'Lots of luck!' Morgan quipped, drawing her robe around her so that nothing was revealed. Td appreciate it, Camilla, if you'd go back upstairs rather than attempt to scream the place down. I have a nice little karate chop and I'd be delighted to use it. You all seem to think I'm some kind of an idiot, happy to take your bad manners and your abuse. The reason Ty was kissing me was to shut me up.'
'I've found it's the best way,' Ty supplied.
'This man is a rotter,' Camilla cried.
'You're absolutely right. Burn all his love letters.'
'What love letters?' Ty asked sardonically. 'Listen, does anyone mind if I lock up? Do you girls know what time it is?'
'Gosh!' Morgan looked at the face of the gilt mantel clock, surprised. 'I didn't know it was that.'
'There are always one or two stragglers,' Ty told her grimly.
'For God's sake!' Camilla slumped down in a Louis chair. 'Are you trying to tell me, Ty, we're through?'
'You'd better believe it!'
'How did you ever get yourself into this crisis situation?' Morgan asked more kindly. 'Get mixed up with Ty and be prepared to pay for it.'
'Go, upstairs, Morgan,' Ty suddenly clipped out in a hard-driven voice.
She flashed him a brilliant look, 'We'd better start dividing the house up into zones.' Nevertheless the expression on his face shook her. 'You'd better come with me, Camilla. You can't sit there all night.'
'Correct again.' Ty added shortly.
'I always knew it in my heart.' Camilla wailed. 'I'll get even with you, Morgan, if it's the last thing I do.'
Camilla was not present at brunch served in the beautiful new garden-room. Her parents evidently had not been told of the abrupt demise of their plans, because they both ate heartily, sharing in the general conversation. Sarah, in a mulberry silk shirt and matching linen slacks, pulled up a chair beside Ty and slid into it with a little comment that set everyone laughing. She looked the very picture of health, beautifully groomed and clear-eyed, her glowing hair bouncing with life. Morgan on the other hand felt as if she was teetering on the brink of a precipice. Underneath the glossy surface the atmosphere was simmering with passion and intrigue. Ty had brought Camilla to her feet, promising her instant retribution for any pain she attempted to inflict on Morgan, but Morgan felt in her bones Camilla would take her jealousy as far as she could. Camilla had an ego that would never end.
By one o'clock, apart from Ian and Sarah, they were down to their last guest. Pat was determined to make the most of his heaven-sent opportunity to get close to Morgan, and he suggested they go for a ride and take a swim in the creek if they felt like it.
'Wear you little red bikini,' he suggested, very happily.
'Play the gentleman,' Ty advised, 'or you're in deep trouble.'
'He's a pretty complex character, Ty,' Pat observed after Ty had gone down the stairs on his way to the jeep. 'What does he mean, I'll be in deep trouble?'
'Oh, I think you will know well enough.' Morgan stared after Ty's lean, powerful figure. 'Sometimes he comes in handy.'
'I never know for sure what he's thinking,' Pat frowned.
'All right, what goes on here?' a voice called gaily from the door. 'Oh, there's Ty!' Sarah lifted a hand to shade her sun-dazzled eyes, 'I wanted to have a word with him.'
'Race away,' urged Morgan drily
'I will.' Sarah flashed them a dazzling smile, I really could get used to this station life.'
Morgan and Pat watched as Sarah ran after Ty, catching him up just as he switched on the ignition. A short exchange followed, then Ty leaned across to open the passenger door and Sarah hopped in.
'Atta girl!’ Pat jeered beneath his breath. 'She's beginning to act like one of the family.'
'Maybe she figures she might be.'
'You're joking!' Pat looked at Morgan in amazement.
'I admire ambition in a woman, don't you?'
'Camilla was certainly acting strangely. I just know someone put her nose out of joint.'
'Some people can't take good advice,' Morgan pointed out. 'It's hot. We will go for a swim.'
Patrick had lived all his life with horses and he was the ideal companion for a hard gallop. They tore across the daisy-strewn flats, Pat taking up the challenge to be first at a station landmark, a huge desert oak that stood alone at the top of a sharp rise. Pat was a tireless rider, but Morgan was better mounted. Sultan flew with his characteristic long strides, but suddenly out of nowhere a doe carrying a joey in her pouch rose up from behind a tall mound of flowers. Her hide was the same reddish brown as the earth, affording her the best possible camouflage.
Morgan pulled on the reins at once, but the highly strung Sultan propped violently, unseating Morgan's slight body, and she was thrown sideways. She saw it all coming, so she gathered herself to roll. This wasn't her first fall and it wouldn't be her last. The thick carpet of flowers would break her fall, but as chance would have it a fallen log carried there by storm water lay half hidden by a clump of spinifex grass. She crashed into it, bruising but not seriously hurting herself, but a sna
ke had chosen the decaying log for its retreat. Disturbed, it struck, lightning-quick, and Morgan, half dazed, looked down at its large, light brown body before it slithered away angrily,
'Morgan!' Pat shouted, dismounting rapidly and running towards her.
'Snake!' she gasped. 'Don't move me.'
'Where did it get you?' Pat looked around wildly.
'The arm!'
On the near horizon, marked by the desert oak, Pat looked up and like a miracle saw the jeep. He stood up and waved his hat frantically in the universal cry for help. Sultan now stood over Morgan in an attitude that could only be described as protective, lowering his head while she lay spread-eagled on the thick carpet of wild flowers. Her beautiful skin appeared pallid, almost waxy, and her eyes were opening and shutting as though overcome by sleep.
'That's Ty!' Pat shouted. 'Keep perfectly still, Morgan.' He was starting to panic. He would much rather the snake have bitten him. He could see the swelling on Morgan's arm. It was already turning purple.
He was trying to fashion a bandage from the tail of his shirt when Ty brought the jeep to a screaming halt.
'Morgan!' He took in the situation at once, 'What the hell are you waiting for, Pat? You know what to do.' He ripped the torn section of the shirt out of Pat's nerveless hands and fashioned it very deftly into a bandage. 'Morgan,' he said harshly, 'do not go to sleep.'
'I feel sick.'
'I know you do, but keep your eyes open.' Ty applied the bandage above the wound, issuing orders to Pat at the same time. 'There's a knife in the glove-box. Matches. Get them and bring them to me.'
Pat raced away, grateful Ty was taking charge. Seeing Morgan lying there so helpless affected him dreadfully. His brain wouldn't work, whereas Ty was swift and methodical.
Ty made tiny cuts at each fang mark, then lowered his head, sucking the wound by mouth and pausing to spit out the venom. When he was satisfied, he gently removed the bandana from Morgan's neck and tied it snuggly above the first bandage. Morgan was still conscious, but she looked very pale and clammy.
