‘I wonder you should ask,’ she evaded, suddenly beset by myriad doubts.
‘But you asked, and I want to know.’ He wasn’t letting her off the hook. ‘Did you consider even for a single moment that I knew the contents of your grandfather’s will and didn’t tell you?’
She could feel her whole body going enormously weak. At that moment she lacked the capacity to deny it. ‘I won’t lie to you, Bryn. I don’t want any lies or evasions between us. It did cross my mind, but for less than a moment. You are a Macallan.’
‘Is that it?’ he asked ironically. ‘I’m a Macallan, and therefore not to be trusted?’
She paused before speaking. ‘Bryn, I would trust you with my life. I owe you my life. But I also know of the conflicts that lie at your heart. You won’t discuss them with me, even when I ask what’s at the root of the enmity I’ve so easily divined. You, Lady Macallan and Annette, your mother, both of whom I love and respect, all considered my grandfather to have been a scoundrel.’
Bryn tossed back the rest of his drink, then moved back to the drinks trolley for a refill. ‘God, what a day! Most people thought Frank a great rogue, Francey.’ He expelled a long breath. ‘For all the things he did to anyone who opposed him, and to competitors in business, be they so-called friends or colleagues. He could have been condemned a thousand times over.’
‘But it’s far more than that with you. It’s deeply personal. I know you won’t rest until you’re CEO of Titan.’
He turned back to her, his whole persona on high alert. He had such a range of expressions, she thought. One minute daunting, the next the most beautiful smile in the world, and then, when he was engrossed in something he found interesting or beautiful, his striking face turned vividly expressive. At certain times too, like now, he had a look of what the French would call hauteur. It wasn’t arrogance. Bryn wasn’t arrogant—unless it was the unconscious arrogance of achievement.
‘Well, now, that’s up to the board, Francey,’ he said. ‘Naturally you will have to take your place there now. We’ll be able to vote for one another,’ he tacked on suavely.
She flushed. ‘It’s no joke, Bryn.’ She waited until he had resumed his seat and did not tower over her. ‘It would be a further whiplash in Carina’s face not to offer her a place. I don’t know if it will ever sink in that Grandfather chose me over her.’
Bryn groaned. ‘That’s an easy one to answer. You’re one hell of a lot brighter than Carina. She was never academically minded. She had no use for further education. She preferred the Grand Tour—swanning around Europe. No, Francey. Carina’s beauty might dazzle, but not her brain power.’
‘Her beauty dazzles you. ’
‘It did. I’ve admitted that. But only for a while. I don’t deny I’ve made my mistakes, Francey, but I managed not to get too carried away. I hate to say it, but there’s something a bit off about Carina. The twists in her personality have notched up a few gears since we were together. You saw what she was like today.’
‘She had every reason to be shocked,’ Francesca said, programmed to be loyal. ‘A massive disappointment was at the bottom of her grievances.’ Despite the way Carina had acted, Francesca was still moved to defend her cousin. ‘She felt betrayed—not only for herself, but for her father.’
‘Oh, come off it, Francey.’ Bryn spoke impatiently. ‘Carina has a total disregard for others. She uses people. It’s an inherited trait. You heard the way she went for her father—and in front of the rest of the family. He didn’t deserve that, even if he has to take some responsibility for turning her into what she has become. Had you been her handsome, clever, male cousin, instead of another woman, she would have taken it a whole lot better. Don’t you see the last thing Carina wants is to be burdened with heavy responsibilities? She wants to be perfectly free to enjoy herself, to live a life of endless self-indulgence. Frank knew that. Her father knows that. It’s the way she was reared, after all. What you have to grasp is this: it’s all about you. And her. Had it been up to Carina, she would have stripped you of your last penny.’
‘And would that have been such a great disaster?’ Francesca asked ironically. ‘I don’t want any of this. I can make my own way—and I am.’
Bryn came to sit again, not in the splendid walnut chair but close beside her, bringing with him his immense sexual aura. Oh, this man! What influence he had over her. And there didn’t seem to be a thing she could do to lessen its effect. Rather, it was expanding with every passing moment.
‘Listen, Francey,’ he said, leaning close, so the fine cotton of his shirt brushed against the skin of her arm. ‘I know you’re a very private person. You like to live out of the limelight. And you’ve succeeded to an extent. But you’re no more entitled to a normal life than I am. That’s one of the burdens of being who we are. Privacy goes out the door. Carina revels in attention. She’s fortunate in that way. She adores being chased by the paparazzi and being endlessly photographed. That’s her life. It gives her enormous satisfaction, even if she does like to lodge the odd complaint. You’re not like that. But you’ll have to concentrate on the main game. You are now in a position to do a great deal for others. There’s your saviour.
‘There’s so much the Foundation can do. Grants to medical science can play a much bigger part than they have in the past. Finding cures for killer diseases, saving lives. It all takes a colossal amount of money. There are so many projects that should have been taken up that the Foundation ignored. It came to the point where the Foundation was simply throwing money at organisations that should have been way down the list. You can change all that. Look what you’ve already achieved in the area of indigenous art. What about a museum, solely to house aboriginal art, bark paintings and other art forms? You could consider that down the track. Make it self-supporting through a series of initiatives. There are many programmes, crying out for funding. You know my own family’s main interest is centred on saving children. You’ve been to the big charity dinners my grandmother regularly holds. She has carried on my grandfather’s work.’
‘And she’s worshipped,’ Francesca said, knowing that for a fact. ‘I don’t know that I can ever become another Lady Macallan.’
He leaned a little further towards her, surprising her by kissing her cheek. Just an affectionate gesture—one of countless she had received from him over the long years—yet it was more meaningful than the most ardent kiss any other man had ever given her.
‘All it’s going to take is a little time and experience. You’ve got everything else. And you’ve got my support. Any future ideas you might have that you want to discuss or thrash out you’ll have my attention.’
‘Thank you. I’m really going to need you.’ She felt as if she had been launched upon a big, cold and demanding world where power was everything. And now it had been handed to her, an unwilling and unprepared recipient.
‘We’re going to need one another.’ Bryn frowned at some passing thought.
‘What if Carina wants to contest the will, as she threatened?’ Francesca asked. ‘Wouldn’t she be justified? She is senior to me, and she’s Uncle Charles’s only child. Besides, she has always known how to get her father on side. The rest of the family will support her.’
Bryn gave a short laugh. ‘No, they won’t.’
‘You sound so sure?’ She turned her attention to examining his dynamic face. If only she could peel away all pretence, all the complex layers that lay between them.
‘The rest of the family are cool-headed,’ Bryn explained briskly. ‘Whereas Carina is a hothead. None of them actually trust her. I don’t even think they like her. They all know Charles is not right for the job. We’ve