Marriage At A Price. Miranda Lee

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      ‘Mmm. Before I go, what about insurance? I don’t want to make the same mistake Mum did.’

      ‘I insured everything after your mother died,’ William confessed. ‘I didn’t want to bother you at the time for permission. I hope you don’t mind.’

      Courtney smiled as she rose to her feet, extending her hand across the desk. ‘Not at all. Thanks, Bill. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’

      He flinched at the steely strength in her handshake. No wonder the horses she rode did as they were told.

      ‘There’s no trouble with our general running expenses, is there?’ she asked.

      ‘No. Cash input is matching output at the moment. Of course, the place could do with some money spent on it. It’s beginning to look run down. So if you and Lois are going to sting some city fool for three million, you might as well try for four, and be done with it.’

      She grinned at him. ‘Bill! You shock me.’

      ‘I doubt that very much,’ he remarked drily. ‘By the way, if Lois can’t come up with anyone suitable, I suggest you approach a financial consultancy which specialises in handling country-based investments. But that’s a last resort. Middlemen always want their cut. A personal contact deal would be much better all round.’

      ‘I agree. If I have to have a partner, then I’d like to have some control over who it is. Now, I’d better get moving. Friday will be here before I know it.’

      ‘Good luck, Courtney.’

      ‘See you, Bill.’

      She spun on the heels of her elastic-sided boots and had taken three strides towards the door when she stopped and threw a puzzled glance back over her shoulder at him. ‘What was the other one?’ she asked.

      ‘What other one?’

      ‘The other solution to my money problems.’

      ‘Oh, that. It was a stupid idea. Not worth mentioning.’

      She turned right round again with that stubborn set to her face he knew so well. ‘I’d still like to know.’

      William let out a resigned sigh. ‘I was thinking of what impoverished aristocratic women used to do in the old days when their castles were crumbling around them.’

      ‘What’s that?’

      ‘They married for money.’

      Courtney crowed with laughter. ‘You’re right, Bill. That is the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard of. I think the world has moved on since the days when young ladies went round sacrificing themselves in marriage to aging pot-bellied counts, simply to save the family jewels.’

      Actually, William wasn’t too sure of that.

      ‘If and when I marry,’ Courtney announced as she planted the dusty Akubra hat firmly on her head, ‘it won’t be for money.’

      ‘Ah-h-h.’ William smiled his approval. ‘For love, eh, girl?’

      ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Bill. Love won’t have anything to do with it. It’ll be strictly for the sex.’ And, smiling a truly wicked smile, she whirled and strode from the room.

      CHAPTER TWO

      ‘EVERYONE’S very dressed up,’ Courtney said, glancing around at the crowd of racegoers.

      All the men were in suits and ties, and most of the women were wearing hats. Lois herself was in a rather flamboyant floral suit and matching hat which might have looked over-the-top on anyone less slender and vivacious. But she carried the outfit off with great panache, looking a lot younger than the forty she admitted to.

      ‘I did warn you, darling,’ Lois replied. ‘Randwick is a far cry from a country racetrack.’

      ‘You can say that again. Thanks heaps for lending me these clothes, Lois. Sorry I was stubborn about it.’

      Lois rolled her eyes. She’d had the devil of a time persuading the girl out of the jeans and checked shirt she’d been wearing this morning, and into the stylish black pants and matching cropped jacket she now had on. This minor miracle had only been achieved by her firmly telling Courtney that the members’ section at Randwick had a dress code that definitely didn’t allow jeans.

      As for that revolting checked shirt… Lois shuddered at the memory.

      Lois had learnt many years ago that, in the city, appearance was everything. Just because you were a horse trainer it didn’t mean you had to look like one. Lois spent an absolute fortune on her vibrant but stylish clothes, and the expenditure was worth every penny. The press photographers snapped her all the time, and the media were always seeking her opinion on the chances of her horses, possibly because she looked better on TV than most of the male trainers. She talked better, too. And smiled a lot. Lois believed that acting bright and always sounding positive brought her more coverage and more clients than the actual success of her horses.

      ‘You look fantastic in black,’ she complimented Courtney. ‘Much better than I ever did.’ Actually, black hadn’t been her colour since she’d had her hair blonded last year. It looked great on Hilary’s daughter, however, with her olive skin, black hair and almost black eyes. If the girl had agreed to some red lipstick and to leaving that gorgeous hair of hers down, she’d have been simply stunning. But, when Lois had suggested both this morning, Courtney had bluntly stated that she looked like a clown in make-up and simply couldn’t stand her hair around her face.

      Lois had argued her case but the girl was adamant. Clearly, she was as opinionated and strong-willed as her mother. Lois had put her foot down, however, when Courtney had gone to scoop her gorgeous black curls back up into that awful rubber band, and had insisted that if her hair had to be off her face, it should be anchored more attractively at the nape of her neck with a gold clip.

      Courtney had finally shrugged and given in, as though it didn’t really matter either way. Lois could only conclude that Hilary’s daughter had no idea of the uniquely exotic beauty she possessed, and which would have more than one wealthy man slavering at her feet if only she knew what to do with it.

      Still, what could one expect? Teaching her daughter to make the most of her striking looks would not have been high on Hilary’s agenda. Such a stupid, warped old woman. Why hate men when they ran the world?

      Tonight, over dinner, she would try to explain to Courtney that when a woman did business in a man’s world, she did it as much with her body as her brain. If Courtney wanted to save Crosswinds, then she would hopefully listen to reason.

      If not, then it would be up to herself to rescue the darned place single-handed, Lois decided pragmatically. No way was she going to sit back and let that wonderful old property pass into other hands. Crosswinds had the best staying brood mares in Australia. All they needed was the right sire, and a whole crop of champion colts and fillies would be in the making. And she would be right there, willing and eager to train every single one of the little darlings!

      Courtney wasn’t enjoying her trip to the races as much as she’d thought she would. Her mind was still on Crosswinds and her money problems.

      ‘Do

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