forth ridicule and high scorn from their father while their mother had gone to Jay laying her smooth cheek against his.
‘And you’d be a fine doctor, Jay. Your grandfather Eugene was a highly respected orthopaedic surgeon.’
‘Stop it, Laura!’ their father had thundered, his handsome face as hard as granite. ‘Mollycoddling the boy as usual. Putting ideas into his head. There’s no place for nonsense here. Jay is my heir! His life is here on Turrawin. Let that be an end to it.’
His expression darkened with remembrance. He missed his brother. Their father would blame Jay for every last little thing that went wrong now. It was dreadful to wish your own father would just ride off into the sunset and never come back, but both of his sons were guilty of wanting that in their minds.
‘You are a sick bastard, aren’t you?’ he berated himself, making a huge effort to throw off his mood. He’d already met most of his dinner companions, which was good. No surprises there. They were all nice, friendly people around his age, maybe a year or two older. Two married couples, the Stapletons and the Mastermans and a young woman, called Chloe Sanders with softly curling brown hair and big sky-blue eyes whose face became highly flushed when he spoke to her. Perhaps she was overcome with shyness, though she had to be well into her twenties and maybe past the time for hectic blushes.
It appeared there was a sister, Allegra, who was staying over as well, but so far she hadn’t appeared. Caroline had told him in a quiet aside Allegra, recently divorced, was understandably feeling a bit low. She was staying a while with her mother and sister on the family property, Naroom, which just could be up for sale. A hint there surely? The girls’ father, Llew Sanders had contracted a very bad strain of malaria while on a visit to New Guinea. Complications had set in but by the time he was properly hospitalised it was already too late. That was six months back, around the time Allegra’s divorce had been finalised. All three women had been shattered, Caroline told him, her lovely face compassionate. The daughter who had stayed at home with her parents was Chloe. The one with the fancy name, Allegra, had flown the coup to marry a high flying Sydney stockbroker then had turned around and divorced him within a few years. Rory didn’t get it. She was too young for a midlife crisis. Why did she marry at all if she hadn’t been prepared to make a go of it? Then again to be fair it might have been the husband’s fault? If the sisters looked anything alike, and they probably did, the high flyer husband could well have found someone more glamorous and exciting?
Heaven help me, I might like a bit of glamour and excitement myself!
Rory didn’t want to know it, but he was a man at war with himself.
They were all assembled in the drawing room, chatting easily together, drinks in hand.
‘Ah, there you are, Rory. What’s it to be?’ Clay asked. ‘I’ve made a pitcher of ice-cold martinis if you’re interested?’
‘They’re very good!’ Meryl Stapleton held up her glass. ‘Clay told me his secret. Just show the vermouth bottle to the gin.’
Rory laughed. ‘I’m not a great one for cocktails, I’m afraid.’
‘A beer then?’ Clay produced a top brand.
‘Fine.’ Rory smiled and went to sit beside Chloe who was sending out silent but unmistakable signals. A man could learn a lot from a woman who wanted him to sit beside her. She flushed up prettily and shifted her rounded bottom to make a place for him. Still no sign of the sister. Perhaps she was all damped down with depression? Maybe their hostess would have to go to her and offer a little encouragement?
Greg Stapleton, a slightly avid expression on his face, immediately started into asking him if he was any relation to the Channel Country Comptons. ‘You know the cattle dynasty?’
Obviously Clay hadn’t filled him in. Rory was grateful for that. He really didn’t want to talk about his family. Nevertheless he found himself nodding casually. ‘The very same, Greg.’
‘Say that’s great!’ Greg Stapleton gazed back at him with heightened interest. ‘But what are you doing in this neck of the woods? You’d be way out of your territory?’
Rory answered pleasantly though he wanted to call, ‘That’s it!’
‘Actually, Greg, I’m looking to start up on my own.’
Stapleton look amazed. ‘Glory be! When Turrawin is one of our major cattle stations? The biggest and the best in the nation. Surely you’d have more than enough to do there?’
‘I have an elder brother, Greg,’ Rory said, making it sound like it was no big deal instead of a boot out the door situation. ‘Jay’s my father’s heir. Not me. I’ve always wanted to do my own thing.’
‘And I’m sure you’ll be marvellous at it,’ Chloe spoke up protectively and gently touched his arm. Chloe it appeared was a very sympathetic young woman. Nothing wrong with that!
‘I’m totally against this primogeniture thing!’ Greg announced. ‘It’s all wrong and it’s hopelessly archaic.’
‘Ah, here’s Allegra!’ Caroline rose gracefully to her feet, grateful for the intervention her guest’s arrival presented. Clay had told her in advance a little of Rory Compton’s story so she knew he wouldn’t want to talk about it. But there was no stopping Greg once he got started. She welcomed the newcomer to their midst. ‘Just in time for a drink before dinner, Allegra!’
‘That would be lovely!’ A faintly husky, marvellously sexy, voice responded.
My God, what a turn up!
Rory just managed to hold himself back from outright staring. He was absolutely certain this femme fatale had left not just a husband but a string of broken hearts in her wake. He had enough presence of mind to rise to his feet along with the other men as Chloe’s sister walked into the room to join them. No, not walked. It was more like a red carpet glide. How exactly did unexceptional Chloe feel about having this beautiful exotic creature for a sister? All Rory’s sympathies were with Chloe. The sisters couldn’t have looked less alike. He hoped Chloe wasn’t jealous. Jealousy was a hell of a thing to haul around.
In a split second his dazzlement turned to an intense wariness and even a lick of sexual antagonism that appeared out of nowhere. It wasn’t admirable and it stunned him. He wasn’t usually this judgemental.
She was a redhead. Not Titian. A much deeper shade. More the lustrous red one saw in the heart of a garnet, a stone he recalled had been sacred to ancient civilisations such as the Aztecs and the Mayans. She wore her hair long and flowing. He liked that. Most men would. It curved away from her face and fell over her shoulders like a shining cape. It even lifted most glamorously in the evening breeze that wafted through the French doors. Her eyes were a jewelled topaz-blue, set in a thick fringe of dark lashes. Her skin wasn’t the pale porcelain usually seen in redheads. It had an alluring tint of gold. Very very smooth. Probably she dyed her hair. That would explain the skin tones. Her hair was an extraordinary colour.
She was much taller than Chloe with a body as slender and pliant as a lily. Her yellow silk dress was perfectly simple, yet to him it oozed style. He might have been staring at some beautiful young woman who modelled high couture clothes for a living or something equally frivolous like spinning the wheel on a quiz show.
‘You know everyone except Rory,’ Caroline was saying, happy to make the introduction. ‘Allegra
