Mistaken Mistress Read online

  “My dear, you’re bleeding!” Delma studied the red tracks, her face expressing her very real concern. “That was so brave of you. Thank you. Thank you.” She pressed her small dazed son to her.

  Owen agreed feelingly, smoothing his daughter’s arm. “Are you all right, sweetheart? How horrible for that to happen. I’m so sorry. But it’s quite extraordinary, you know. We’re talking sea eagles not nesting magpies.”

  “Let’s wash this off in the sea,” Lang said, acutely aware of Eden’s shock. He lifted her in his arms like she was a featherweight, walking down the strand, not stopping until they reached the water, where he moved out a way so he could submerge Eden’s whole body. He lowered himself with her, keeping his arms around her in case she suffered some reaction.

  “Okay?” He was fairly shocked himself, sick at the whole incident. Perhaps he’d have to destroy the bird. He had swiped at it hard enough but incredibly it wouldn’t give way.

  She was muttering to herself quietly, still stunned by the bird’s attack. “I’ll be all right in a minute or so. What was that anyway? It was like something out of Hitchcock?”

  He stared intently at her pale face, alert for any sudden faint spell though she seemed to be characteristically in possession of herself.

  “It looked a bit like it,” he answered wryly. “I’ve seen quite a few bird attacks over the years, mostly nesting plovers. Nothing like what I witnessed today. It shouldn’t have happened. The whole thing was bizarre.”

  “Absolutely.” She ducked her head momentarily beneath the water, feeling not a whole lot more stable. All around them, the sea, aquamarine in the shallows glittered and the spice-scented breeze blew from the cay.

  “The salt water should help a lot,” Lang told her soothingly. “I’ll send a message ahead to have a doctor waiting at the house.”

  “You don’t think I need a doctor?” Eden looked over her shoulder in dismay. “I mean does it need stitching?”

  He kept his eyes on her back. As the water washed the blood away it welled again, but to his great relief not badly. “I don’t think so. There’s a first-aid kit aboard but we’ll let a doctor take a look at it. I’d hate to see that beautiful skin damaged.”

  “I’ll survive.” She gave him a shadow of her smile. “And thank you for my rescue.”

  “Take it as part of my devotion,” he said, with a return to the sardonic. “If you feel a little better, I’d like to get you back to the boat. You can lie down. So can Robbie. He got quite a fright, poor little fellow.”

  “He’ll soon turn it into an adventure,” Eden said thankfully. “No need to fuss over me.” When actually she was looking forward to lying down, having him continue to look at her with such concern in his silvery-grey eyes.

  And now it was Lang who knew beyond any whisper of doubt. He wanted to fuss over this beautiful creature for the rest of her life.

  CHAPTER NINE

  EDEN was already three days into her stay on Marella Downs, the Forsyth stronghold since the mid-1800s. She had been welcomed with open arms, her rapport with Lang’s family instant and mutual. West of the Great Dividing Range she quickly found was another world. An infinite vastness of sweeping sun-burnt plains, of brownness, stretching thousands of kilometres away to the Great Sandy Desert. The grasses of the savannahs where the great herd grazed were bleached to a uniform dark gold. The sun beat down from a cloudless peacock-blue sky. This was the Outback, as different to the tropical coastal strip with its lush panoramas as the far side of the moon.

  Lang had flown them in the company plane, a Beechcraft King Air. It was a smooth flight without incident, but once over the rugged grape-blue ranges with their jagged ridges, deep chasms and gorges, the landscape had changed dramatically. From the voluptuous green of the watershed East to a dry, dry land. It was vast and empty. To Eden’s uninitiated eyes, daunting. She suspected it would be brutally hot, but when they landed to the family welcoming party she found the heat was quite without the high humidity of the seaboard. In a way, more comfortable. Tomorrow they were to make the return journey. She to her father’s house. Her relationship with Delma had thawed considerably since the incident with the sea eagle, certainly the just beneath the surface antipathy had diminished, but Eden knew they would never be exactly simpatico. Delma couldn’t let go of the power. Just another fact of life!

  Lang’s mother, on the other hand, was a lovely warm, tolerant woman with a humorous personality. Barbara Forsyth made a deep impression on her. Eden found to her delighted surprise she could share things with Barbara; viewpoints affecting family that she had never been able to express with anyone else. That included her own mother who had switched off very early in life. Barbara was different. She had known great happiness and great despair, suffered many painful lessons, but she had survived it all in the process learning how to make loving contact with the people around her. Georgia, Lang’s sister, shared her mother’s warm embracing nature. The friendship they so readily offered affected Eden deeply. Quite simply it gladdened her sore heart.

  True to his word, Lang made sure they did things together, riding out early morning and late afternoon, or taking the jeep, visiting the natural features that were abundant on the station. Their fascination made her change her superficial judgment of the harsh environment. Its beauty had nothing to do with the flamboyant beauty of the tropics and its dense orchid-bearing rainforests. This was a beauty that like a difficult, powerful painting needed study. The sheer size, the open spaces and the empty natural landscape were the overwhelming factors. Then there was the gorgeous ever-present bird life, there were literally explosions of birds out of the trees whenever one passed. There were snakes, of course, huge goannas and legions of kangaroos and wallabies made a marvellous sight in numbers bounding across the grasslands. This was powerful, primitive, country with large tracts of wilderness. In the billabongs and rivers, only a little further north, crocodile were plentiful.

  The last day Lang planned to take her to the “best Marella has to offer.”

  “He’s been keeping it for last,” Georgia told her. “You’ll be absolutely captivated.” They were lingering over breakfast.

  “Do I get to hear what it is?” she asked with a smile.

  “That’s a surprise.” Lang turned to request more coffee from Grace, their part-aboriginal housekeeper. Grace had been born on the station and never wished to leave it. Like the Forsyth women, she doted on Lang.

  The first thing Eden remarked on meeting the family was the fact Barbara and Georgia were blond with clear green eyes; their tall, athletic bodies in tip-top condition. Both did many outdoor chores around the station while Georgia’s husband, Brad, an attractive six-footer, also fairish in colouring, handled the management. An arrangement that worked very well. Ryan, their little son, who was spending part of his holiday with Brad’s parents was also blond in colouring she was told. Lang with his raven hair, olive skin and silver eyes was the changeling until she saw the portrait of his grandfather, Zachary.

  As she was the image of her mother, Lang was the image of his paternal grandfather. She marvelled at the power of genetics!

  Eden was in her very comfortable guest room changing from the cotton dress she had worn at breakfast to more workmanlike gear, or as workmanlike as she could manage, a long-sleeved cotton shirt to protect her arms and cotton jeans, both midnight-blue in colour, when Barbara came to the door.

  “Eden, dear, I have to tell you we have an unexpected visitor,” she said gently but in such a way Eden responded.

  “You don’t sound too happy about it?” She stood aside so Barbara could enter the room.

  “Well I can’t say it comes as a complete surprise,” Barbara sighed. “Lara has a penchant for popping in when Lang’s about.”

  “That Lara?” Eden knew a moment of absolute dismay. This holiday had been perfect so far.

  “That Lara.” Barbara raised a hand to her brow. “It’s only a flying visit.”

  “Does she know I’m h
ere?”

  “What do you think?” Barbara asked, a trace acerbically, looking at Eden with her clear green eyes.

  “Delma must have told her. They’re very close.”

  “Well…no worries.” Barbara shrugged to overcome her mild exasperation. “Georgia has her jobs to do but I can entertain Lara while you and Lang see the canyon. Darn,” she broke off in self-annoyance, “I’ve given it away.”

  Eden’s voice filled with amusement. “That’s okay. I won’t tell. I’m sure Lara will want to come along.”

  “Look, it’s your holiday,” Barbara pointed out. “I’m certain you don’t want her to go.”

  “No.” Their minds were finely in tune.

  “Then you’d better hurry up. Lara can get in where the ants can’t.”

  “I’m ready!” Eden made such a dash into the dressing room to collect her white akubra Barbara burst out laughing.

  “I’ll tell Lara you’ll both be back for lunch. I don’t like to be rude…”

  “As if you could be,” Eden scoffed.

  They found Lara sitting in what the family called “the old drawing room.” She was regarding a magnificent landscape painting rather grimly.

  “So sorry, Lara.” Barbara excused her temporary absence with a smile. “Here’s Eden.” Somehow it came out like a masterstroke.

  “How are you, Lara?” Eden spoke brightly, moving further into the room. “I didn’t expect to see you,” she said without emphasis, wanting to load her voice with sarcasm but characteristically not doing so.

  “I just flew over to say hello,” Lara told her, finishing her head to toe inspection of Eden’s slender figure.

  “Lang was here. What happened to him?” Barbara asked.

  “He’s outside having a word with Brad,” Lara told her. “Are you enjoying yourself, Eden?” Lara swivelled her head from the open French doors leading to the front veranda back to Eden.

  “I’ve had a lovely time.” Eden touched Barbara’s arm softly, her face filled with affection. “Barbara and the family have made me feel so much at home.”

  “But then you’ve never really had a home, have you?” Lara asked, sounding warmly sympathetic.

  “I don’t know how you can say that, Lara?” Barbara intervened rather crisply. “It’s certainly not true.”

  “You do know what I mean?” Lara’s voice turned apologetic. “Delma told me the whole story. It couldn’t have been easy for you, Eden.”

  “I didn’t know Delma knew the whole story.” Eden was unimpressed by Lara’s contrition. “I certainly never told her. Anyway we won’t speak of it. I’m so looking forward to today.”

  “Where are you going?” Lara asked, not trying to disguise her avid curiosity.

  “I’m not exactly sure. It’s a surprise.”

  “I love surprises! I’m sure you can fit me in. I started to tell Lang I’d love to go riding. It seems so long since we’ve done it. Ah, speak of the man! Here he is!” Lara’s face lit as if touched with a ray of sunshine.

  Lang strode into the room looking marvellous in an open-necked bush shirt and jeans. He levelled them all with his quick penetrating glance. “Time to be off, Eden,” he said briskly, “if we’re to be back for lunch. I hope you’ll be staying until then, Lara?”

  Lara, seated firmly in the chair looked like she could outlast any of them. “Actually I was hoping to come with you and Eden,” she said in a brittle voice.

  “That’d be nice, but you wouldn’t want to see it again,” Lang assured her, getting a grip on Eden’s arm. “Barbara is on her own. I’m sure she’d love some company.”

  It was possible a tear came to Lara’s eyes. “So where are you going?” she demanded. “Tell me the truth.”

  “The truth is the best way,” Lang informed her with a quirk of a smile. “But this time it’s a secret.”

  “It can’t be!” Lara insisted.

  “Life is full of frustrating things.”

  “It sounds like something I might enjoy.” Lara revealed the full extent of her disappointment.

  “Actually Lara it’s Eden’s first time,” Barbara murmured tactfully. “She’ll form the best impressions if Lang takes her on her own.”

  “It can’t be the caves.” Lara came swiftly to her feet, an attractive figure in a black-and-white silk shirt and white hipsters.

  “Not the caves,” Lang agreed smoothly, silver eyes travelling to his mother’s. “I told Brad to let Georgia know Lara has arrived. She’ll want to come back to the house. You girls can have morning tea. Catch up on all the news.”

  “Thank you, darling,” Barbara said sweetly, with a smoothness of her own. “Enjoy yourselves.”

  Lang sketched a brief salute. “We’ll be back for lunch. Make it for one—one-thirty.”

  “Yes, dear,” said Barbara, and snapped her fingers.

  “I think it’d be fair to say that was cruel,” Eden remarked as they drove out of the home compound.

  “Would you have preferred I invited her?” Lang gave her an ironic look.

  Eden sighed. “She made me feel sad. I don’t know why. She thinks she’s in love with you.”

  “I’d rather hear you’d fallen in love with me,” he said.

  It was the first time in quite a while she’d heard even a flash of his seductive voice. In fact Lang had kept strictly to his promise of “backing off.” The only trouble Eden found was she couldn’t be in his presence half a minute without “turning on.”

  “Now we’ve gone and left her with Barbara,” she said, totally evading his question.

  “Don’t worry. My mother handles these situations extremely well,” he said with amusement.

  “What situations?” She turned her head to stare at his handsome chiselled profile. “Ex-girlfriends turning up?”

  “Would you like to hear something?” He gave a brief laugh. “It happens all the time.”

  “So many of them.”

  “None of them as defenceless as you,” he told her. “Lara was a girlfriend for a while. I didn’t love her. I didn’t ask her to marry me.”

  “But you slept with her?”

  “What do you want me to say? We had crazy times together?”

  “I can believe it,” she said in heartfelt tones.

  “Not until I met you.”

  Her heart contracted. “Big brother,” she reminded him.

  “I think I’ve taken extremely good care of you.” He nodded. “In fact we’d become almost family.”

  “I love your family.” She looked out the window at the flying miles.

  “They think you’re special, as well.”

  “I’ve really never spoken so much in depth with another woman until I met your mother,” she confided. “Not my girlfriends, and I have good, long-standing friends. Not my own mother. I was so protective of her. I used to think she was so sensitive if I said the wrong thing to her it would leave an actual bruise on her white skin.” A pause. “She didn’t have to live the life she did.”

  He took in her poignant expression. “I’m really sorry, Eden. I wish I’d known you when you were a little girl. Sometimes I see flashes of you when you were very young. Small, soft, so very, very, vulnerable.”

  “The holiday will be over tomorrow.”

  “Don’t sound like that,” he said, briskly. “You can come again anytime you like.”

  “I should go home,” she answered, very seriously. “My grandfather may need me.”

  “Your grandfather made his life,” Lang found himself answering very seriously. “By the same token it occurs to me some healing might be effected if he and Owen made their peace.”

  Eden stared at him, her whole attention captured. “What an extraordinary idea!”

  “Is it?” He faintly shrugged. “Your grandfather must be feeling utterly guilty and down. He thought he was doing the right thing at the time. That was his way. But they all suffered because of his decision. Your mother, your father, the man who reared you, your grandfather. Most of al
l, you, the innocent victim.”

  “Dad hates my grandfather,” Eden said quietly. “He blames him for bringing so much unhappiness to his and my mother’s life.”

  “But that’s not really true, is it?” Lang threw her a glance. “I can’t see you marrying a man you didn’t love. Pregnant or not. Though times have changed.”

  “Well, of course they have. We’re all different. Not everyone is as sunny and loving towards people as your mother for example.”

  “True. But my mother emerged from her own terrible depression after my father died. It was a very painful experience but she came out of it with such strength. I’m very proud of my mother. And my sister.”

  “As they are of you. I didn’t have that sort of family.”

  “But you will have,” he said, momentarily reaching out to her. “You’ll marry. Have children of your own.”

  “I hope so.”

  “In fact you should be thinking of getting married right now,” he told her, sardonic eyes seeking hers. “I see twenty-four as a good age for a woman.”

  “And thirty-two for a man? You’ve certainly sown your wild oats.”

  “Nonsense!” he scoffed. “I was never ‘wild’ as you phrase it. I was too busy re-making my family’s life.”

  The surprise, located about ten miles from the homestead, turned out to be a corridor of grandly sculptured creamy yellow cliffs. In many places, Eden saw the sandstone walls had been rendered smooth as butter she supposed by millions of years of weathering. Tall white-boled gums lined the cliff tops for the full length of the canyon with groves of magnificent palms and tree ferns. A permanent shallow creek glittered and snaked down the centre maybe thirty feet wide but Lang informed her after heavy monsoonal rains flash floods could turn its placid meandering into a raging torrent.