Bryn’s resonant voice suddenly boomed, stopping even Carina in her tracks. ‘Carrie, that’s enough. Francey has no need to explain herself or make any apology to anyone,’ he said in a hard, disgusted tone. ‘You can see how shocked she is. She had no idea. I suggest we allow Douglas to finish the reading. You can carry on after that, if you like. The rest of us can beat a retreat.’
‘You mean you’re taking Francey’s side over mine?’ For a moment Carina looked utterly confused. ‘You really think I’m going to shut up and take this, Bryn? What the hell—?’ She broke off, finally registering the linked hands—one so darkly tanned, the other the smoothest pale gold. ‘Well, well, well,’ she snarled, now in a white-hot rage. ‘What have we got here?’
‘You’ve got me offering Francey support,’ Bryn replied without a moment’s hesitation.
This put Carina into an ecstasy of jealousy and hate. ‘Let go of the conniving little bitch’s hand.’
It was obvious Bryn wasn’t going to let that slide. His expression turned so daunting the very air in the room froze. ‘I think you’ve reached the point where you’d do best to shut up, Carrie,’ he warned, brilliant eyes aglitter.
But Carina was too far gone. ‘Can I trust you, Bryn. Can I?’ Her blue eyes raked his dynamic face. ‘You haven’t hatched a little plan or anything?’
‘You want someone to trust, Carrie, you’d better find a puppy,’ he returned with biting humour.
The battle lines had been drawn. The enemy was in plain view.
It was a total nightmare, Francesca thought. The worst possible disaster. Yet through it all Bryn continued to keep hold of her hand.
‘Going to turn our attention to Francey now, are we?’ Carina challenged him with great bitterness. ‘You’d do anything to get control of Titan. We all know that. You’d even take up with Francey and abandon me. You swore you loved me. You swore when the time was right we’d get married.’
Bryn uttered a single word. ‘Delusional.’
How easy it is to sow the seeds of doubt, Francesca thought. She thought of those long passionate kisses Bryn had given her. How could Bryn, of all people, do a thing like that when he had made a promise to Carina? It wasn’t Bryn. It didn’t fit anything she knew about him. Nevertheless, she very quietly withdrew her hand from his, before Carina took it into her head to spring at her like a jungle cat. Could it be possible Bryn was deliberately provoking Carina?
A charged atmosphere surrounded them both. Carina, mercifully, stayed in place, while Bryn rose to his impressive height, as though standing guard over the more vulnerable Francesca.
‘Am I?’ Carina cried. ‘Delusional? Why would I be? You know what we talked about.’ She transferred her burning blue gaze to her cousin. ‘Don’t let him fool you. Or has he started to already? He’s as devious as they come. The master manipulator. Gramps always said that. He warned me we always had to be on our guard around Bryn. I know he was talking to you in your room, Francesca. The maid told me.’
‘Poor thing!’ Bryn cut in derisively. ‘I bet it was more like an interrogation.’
‘Carrie, please stop,’ Charles Forsyth said with surprising authority. ‘You too, Bryn. We really don’t need all these personal matters to be aired here. Douglas needs to proceed.’
‘Of course he does!’ Carina hissed. ‘But I’ll have my say if I want. This is my home.’
‘My home,’ her father corrected her, in a voice no one had ever heard him use with her before. This was his princess. Or at least she had been, until she had started making it very plain she thought her father thoroughly deserved to be overthrown.
Oddly, Carina looked tremendously shocked. She blinked. ‘So you want me out?’ She clenched her hands in front of her breast, as though at any moment her father might have one of the servants pitch her out onto the street. She realised in a rare moment of self-evaluation that any one of them would be pleased to.
‘Don’t be absurd, Carina,’ her father answered, torn between parental loyalty and pity. ‘Of course this is your home.’
‘I should damned well think so.’ Carina returned fire; she was nothing if not resilient. ‘So what does he get out of it?’ She resumed her seat, pointing an accusing finger at Bryn, who was now sitting in an elegant slouch, his expression quite unreadable. ‘Let’s hear it. More shares in Titan? The Macallans already own twenty-three percent of the company.’ The Forsyths had the majority shareholding in the multibillion-dollar corporation; something that had happened only after Sir Francis had succeeded the late Sir Theo Macallan and became Chairman and CEO.
‘I’ll continue now to read out Sir Francis’s wishes.’ The solicitor consulted the impressive-looking legal document. ‘Ah, y-e-e-s,’ he said slowly. ‘Bryn Barrington Theodore Macallan, in recognition of his own outstanding abilities and his valuable contributions to the ever-escalating success of Titan, and in memory of my great affection and admiration for his late grandfather, my lifelong friend, Sir Theodore Macallan—’
‘Get on with it, Douglas,’ Carina barked, in a frenzy of impatience.
Douglas McFadden’s pale grey eyes narrowed, but he spoke at the same measured pace. ‘Bryn Macallan inherits a fifty percent share in Sir Francis’s pastoral empire, its flagship being Daramba. Francesca inherits the other fifty percent on the understanding that Bryn is in sole charge of the business end of the enterprise. Evidently Sir Francis believed Francesca would be fully occupied elsewhere, whilst Bryn was the best man to handle an extra job. Charles had already indicated to his father he had little interest in the pastoral side of things. Rule number one with Sir Francis was always, Who is the best person to handle the job?’
Bryn, who after all these years among the Forsyths had thought himself impervious to shock, felt winded. It was as if he had received a violent blow to the solar plexus. He swallowed on the startled oath that was stuck somewhere in his throat. He had been way off the mark in expecting some token bequest. Maybe his grandfather’s golf clubs back. This was astounding news—or maybe Frank’s last-ditch attempt to get into heaven? He turned his head to gauge Francesca’s reaction. She was trembling with emotion, as well she might be. Her eyes were huge with distress, the pearly grey of her blouse further brightening their silver lustre. In all probability she was retreating once more into her protective shell.
Carina had well and truly brought her fierce jealousy out into the open. Damn her lies! Marriage was a word he’d never mentioned. Let alone thought about. That went for the L word as well. What he and Carina had had for a short time was sex—which had turned out to be a terrible mistake. Not that he had taken advantage of an innocent young virgin. Carina had a head start on just about everyone in that department. A free spirit, or so she called herself—even in those days. But he knew as well as anyone: throw enough mud and some was bound to stick. The undermining would continue. He had to be prepared for it. Carina, like her grandfather before her, would never let up. As for his bequest? Given a moment or two to reflect, he knew what Francis Forsyth had ripped off from the Macallans over the years would pay for this share of Forsyth Pastoral Holdings many times over.
Francis Forsyth had evidently believed in a Supreme Being after all. Maybe even in meeting up with Sir Theo and old Gulla again. Highly unlikely. Their destinations would be poles apart.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘ALL I’m saying is, give yourself time for it to sink in,’ Bryn advised. He had accompanied the stunned and visibly upset Francesca back to her apartment, where at least she thought she would be safe.
‘This is a disaster, Bryn. You know it is.’ She led the way into the living room, switching on lights as she went.
When she had left here this morning she had never dreamed what the day would bring: the massive upheavals, the responsibilities