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 all known it for years. My grandfather spent a great deal of his time priming me. Ultimately for control. I won’t deny it. Francis Forsyth didn’t make Titan everything it is. My grandfather was the prime mover. Frank became something of an enforcer. Anyway, I knew what my grandfather wanted. I want it. Charles doesn’t. Carina can’t pretend she has the necessary qualifications—’
‘That’s why Grandfather wanted her to marry you,’ Francesca broke in. ‘The subject can’t be avoided, Bryn. He planned it all. A marriage between you and Carrie would have united the two families. Ended the war. Carina would have been happy, and well suited to playing the role of beautiful high society wife.’
‘It was a scheme thought up without considering me or my wishes,’ Bryn told her with heavy bluntness.
‘What are your wishes?’ She was terribly confused. Carina had taken every opportunity to let her know Bryn belonged to her. And there was no getting away from the fact she and Bryn had sustained an intimate relationship, even if Bryn claimed it was over.
‘Maybe you would suit me a whole lot better. What if I wanted to marry you?’ he asked, sounding as if he might be serious. ‘Let’s face it. You’re a very classy lady. Super-smart.’ His eyes were brilliant with mockery, flattery—what? Was it possible that Bryn, the quintessential businessman, had simply vaulted to the best possible option now that she was the Forsyth heiress?
Though her heart was racing, it was high time she got herself together. ‘I’ve never for a moment considered it,’ she said, amazed she could sound so composed. She had been raised to accept Bryn was for Carina. It was like an alliance, a tradition drawn from the Middle Ages. The knowledge had hung over her head like a sword.
‘I think you have, but you’ve covered it up.’ There was real gravity in his voice.
‘It’s not as if you don’t know why.’ She felt driven to spring up, away from him. It wasn’t easy to think when Bryn’s power over her was so strong. Those wild moments between them had not only compounded his power a thousandfold, but made it irreversible. It wasn’t easy living with a blazing obsession. It was the best and the worst kind of love. From childhood—hadn’t she survived because of him?—she had felt so close to him he might have been a kind of twin; a twin she had created lacking a sibling to love. Even as a child she’d had a remarkable insight into Carina’s nature. She had always known her cousin didn’t love her, never would. She had also known Bryn would forever stand between them.
Bryn, who was desperate to push the issue, had to relent. ‘You look played out.’ He spoke quietly. ‘Why don’t I go? You need time on your own. Time to recover and absorb everything that has happened. It’s been one long and gut-wrenching day. Death has its own contagion. I know you ached for your grandfather’s love and didn’t get it, but he must have loved you, Francey, in his own strange way. Take comfort from that. Perhaps he felt enormous guilt about his estrangement from your father? Especially in the light of what happened. Perhaps he thought you were judging him in some way? You were such a serious, thinking child, and you had a way of turning those beautiful light-filled eyes on one.’
She was taken aback. Hadn’t Carrie said much the same thing? ‘Did I? In what way?’
He gave her a faintly twisted smile. ‘Oh, you always looked as though you were trying to read one’s soul. Maybe Frank found that difficult to face. There were dark places in his soul he wouldn’t have wanted you to see. Anyway, Douglas confirmed he was proud of you. That should mean something. He loved Carrie, but he even asked me from time to time why she wasn’t getting out there and doing something. He would have liked Carrie to carve out some sort of a career—even getting into the world of fashion, opening boutiques or whatever. She lived for clothes. Neither of us has ever seen her in the same outfit twice.’
‘You’re not saying he was disappointed in her?’ Francesca asked, trying to piece all this together. She’d had no idea.
Bryn shook his head. ‘That’s a difficult one to answer. It’s hard, when you’re possessed of a manic energy like Sir Frank was, to view pointless pursuits with a totally tolerant eye. I think he was always going to leave you Daramba.’ Abruptly he changed the subject, his dark eyes steadily on her. ‘Apart from anything else, he knew how much you loved it.’
‘He didn’t love it,’ Francesca said, a catch in her voice. ‘He wouldn’t go there.’
‘Perhaps he had a reason.’ Bryn’s answer sounded grim. ‘He wasn’t liked, either as the big boss or a man.’ The tribal people had regarded Francis Forsyth as a trespasser on sacred ground. And perhaps a lot more. ‘How do you feel about his leaving me a half-share?’ He captured her gaze. ‘I want you to tell me the truth. I can stand it.’
She gave a laugh that held the faintest sob. ‘I want you more than anyone by my side, Bryn. You already know that. We both love Daramba.’
‘That apart,’ he said, brushing their mutual love for the great Outback station aside, ‘what about my taking control of the business side of the entire operation?’
‘You’re welcome,’ she said wryly.
‘I’m going to want to make a lot of changes,’ he said, trying to prepare her, reaching for his jacket, then shouldering into it.
How handsome he was. How masculine. She loved the breadth of his shoulders that made his clothes sit so well; the sharp taper that emphasised his lean, narrow waist and hips, and his long, athletic legs. ‘Go for it,’ she said, trying for lightness on this bleakest of days. ‘I have a few ideas of my own you might be interested to hear.’
His brows knotted. ‘Of course. I have no intention of going ahead with anything without discussion. We’re partners, Francey.’
She nodded, taking enormous comfort from that. ‘Partners. I do have a good business head.’
‘I know.’ He moved towards her with the easy male grace that so characterised him. ‘Clever girl! You’ll have countless opportunities to bring your expertise to bear.’
‘That’s if I accept my inheritance,’ she replied, her expression grave. ‘I want time to think about it. My life would revolve around the Foundation. What time would there be for me? I’m serious about my art. I’m serious about helping other artists.’ She paused, feeling a jolt of non-acceptance she had to stifle. ‘But I fully expect to take my seat on the board of Titan.’
There was a glitter of admiration in his brilliant eyes. ‘Sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.’
She stood there looking at him, in such an agony of need it made her press her hands to her sides. ‘It’s important for me to know how you think and feel.’
‘But you do know, Francey.’ He could read the huge uncertainties that were in her. It was so easy to understand. What she had been offered was almost too big to grasp. ‘As far as I’m concerned, you have the brains, the guts and the nerve to carry this off. Do it for everyone’s sake. You have the power to change lives for the good. I understand your fears and doubts. But don’t get bogged down, thinking your grandfather’s will was unfair to Charles and Carina. They’ve been very handsomely provided for. Your grandfather knew what he was doing.’
For once let Forsyth and Macallan be on the same side, he prayed. Only with Francesca