The Cattle Baron. Margaret Way

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СКАЧАТЬ you were!” Rosie responded brightly on cue, slipped into the banquette opposite, leaned forward, smiled. “Just enough to fan my interest, at any rate. How are you? You look well. It must be all of two years.” That made him around forty-five, she evaluated.

      He nodded, clearly pleased with himself, too. “Hard to believe. I’m glad you were able to come. You’re often in my thoughts. You look terrific, by the way. The very picture of sparkling good health.”

      “I make sure I get my full quota of vitamins,” Rosie answered dismissively. “What about you?” She let her eyes rove over him, waiting. There was a story here for sure.

      “Things haven’t been all that good for me, Roslyn,” he told her, his nose pinched. “Helen and I have split up.”

      Rosie glanced around the room. Anything to avoid eye contact. Good for Helen! Rosie’s spontaneous reaction was based on what she’d seen with her own eyes, but she could scarcely not show sympathy. “I’m so sorry. What happened?”

      He took a deep breath, making no attempt to disguise his outrage, a big handsome man important in his field, charming when he had to be. He had a crest of thick dark hair with distinguished silver wings, penetrating light-blue eyes, cared-for supple skin despite all the hours digging up the great Outback, a really fit toned body from regular visits to the gym. On the face of it, his wife should have been mad for him. Obviously she had been, until rebellion kicked in.

      “It’s all terribly sad and I suppose predictable.” He shrugged. “Helen was always a retiring sort of girl. An only child of older parents. Quite eminent academics. Helen could have had a career herself, but she chose to marry me.”

      “Couldn’t she have had both?” Rosie’s voice was a shade dry. “You have no children?”

      He shook his head, brushing the difficulties of parenting aside. “Children need time and commitment. Helen and I decided early in our marriage that we needed to devote all our energies to my career. I suppose you could say she sacrificed herself for me. Of course I asked nothing of the kind. She could have found part-time work at the museum. Cataloging for our extensive library. She was an excellent student.” He shrugged again. “But things didn’t work out. The simple truth was, she came to bitterly resent my success, though I have to admit she tried very hard to keep it to herself. She wasn’t much good with people, either. Poor social skills. You’ll understand I have to attend so many functions, fund-raisers, that sort of thing. I get invited everywhere.”

      And revel in it. “Those television appearances certainly helped put you in the public eye.” All of a sudden Rosie realized she had never liked Marley, for all his suave charm.

      “Haven’t I always given you credit?”

      “So you have,” Rosie agreed. “For a while. So, where’s Helen now?”

      He frowned so ferociously that Rosie wondered if quiet little Helen had lost all sense of good conduct and moved in with another man. “Would you believe she’s gone back to university?” He spit the word out as though it was an accusation. “Good God, she’s nearly forty.”

      Rosie swept flying wisps of hair from her face. Ah, yes, the superior male. What arrogance! Hadn’t that been her first impression? “I’m sure you regard yourself as a man in his prime, Dr. Marley. Helen hasn’t hit hers yet. I’m sorry you’ve broken up,” she lied. “Perhaps it’s not final? Helen may want to establish herself. She can’t always do what you want.”

      Another tight smile. “There’ll be no reconciliation, if that’s what you mean. Helen chose to leave me when I’ve done everything for her. End of story. I’m forced to face the fact that our marriage was a mistake in the first place.”

      “I guess Helen thought so, too,” Rosie offered wryly, completely on the unworthy Helen’s side. She was surprised Helen had it in her.

      Marley glared at her. “You know, you might be a bit more sympathetic, but then, women always stick together. It’s been a very unpleasant few months. Toward the end, Helen was almost a basket case. Yet her parents had the nerve to tell me it was my fault. I’d been neglecting their little darling. Didn’t I know she’d desperately wanted children?”

      “I thought that was one of the things the two of you had discussed,” Rosie reminded him, looking amazed. “Anyway, I’m sorry. I can see it’s really hit you.” High time to change the subject. “So, any more fabulous finds up your sleeve? World scoops for me?”

      He brightened instantly, penetrating eyes entirely focused, taking her back to the first time she’d met him, full of pride in his latest achievement, lionized by the academic world. “That’s why I wanted us to meet, Roslyn.” He reached across the table, took her hands, mercifully not using his bone-crusher grip. “I have in my possession a thrilling object. I’ve used the latest testing to date it at some five thousand years old. It was dug up on a far North Queensland cattle station.”

      Rosie was less than riveted. “Well. Okay.” She gestured with one hand. “It can’t be Aboriginal, then? You yourself have dated beautifully finished objects many, many thousands of years older than that. Not to mention the Winjarra paintings.”

      “They’re not Aboriginal,” Marley snapped. “Give me some credit, my dear. You’ll easily identify the object just by looking at it.”

      “Do you have it with you?” Rosie asked more respectfully, deciding to play along.

      Marley raised a dark mocking brow. “You surprise me, Roslyn. I need to be very quiet, very careful about this. Oh, I trust you. I trust your integrity. I couldn’t stand to share my secret with any other person. Certainly not a journalist. I am offering you a great scoop, but what I really need from you is your persuasive power. You seem able to influence people. All sorts of people. I’ve made it my business to study your essays, your articles, your reviews. You have the ability to get highly sophisticated people to tell you what you want. More importantly, to get them to do what you want. That’s not easy. It’s a real gift.”

      “More or less,” Rosie agreed modestly. “So, who is this you want me to work on? It might help if you put all your cards on the table, Dr. Marley.”

      “Please, call me Graeme.”

      He gave her a sort of we-understand-one-another smile Rosie wasn’t altogether comfortable with. Although Graeme Marley was undoubtedly an impressive-looking man, she had never felt an attraction. Perhaps it related to his utter self-centeredness. Besides, he hadn’t mentioned divorce, so he was still legally married to the rebellious Helen, who was at this moment throwing off her years of brainwashing. Still, calling him Graeme was hardly a sin.

      He sat back, presenting her with an unexpectedly boyish grin. “Lord, I haven’t asked you if you’d like something to drink.”

      She went to say, Not for me, settled for, “A Coke will be fine.”

      His snort was almost contemptuous. “Really?” He sounded as if she was having him on.

      Rosie shrugged. “I don’t drink when I drive.” Though she was starting to feel pretty desperate for a scotch. “I’ve got the trip home, then I have a dinner lined up. I promise you I won’t be driving myself home, however.”

      “Anything changed in that department?” he asked smoothly, signaling a passing waiter, giving his order. A Coke with ice for her. Another scotch for him.

      “Meaning?” СКАЧАТЬ