“Does he think we womenfolk will fall apart without a big, strong man standing guard?” Kimberley asked Danielle across the remains of their breakfast.
“I would hardly call Ryan’s presence standing guard. He hasn’t stopped pacing since he arrived!”
Kimberley watched Ryan’s impatient stride back and forth from shadows to sunlight at the far end of the terrace, the ever-present phone at his ear and a forbidding frown on his face. “He should go in to work,” she said. “At least then he might feel like he’s doing something useful.”
“He is doing something useful.”
Sonya’s soft words came from beside Kimberley’s chair, and she turned back around to find her aunt had brought fresh coffee. She set it down before continuing, her tone as close to a reprimand as she ever managed.
“Ryan is handling all the calls that are coming in, the same as Ric did during the night and early this morning, and which I know I can’t deal with at the moment. He will ensure we hear any news as soon as it comes in. And if the police need to find us—” her eyes met Kimberley’s briefly, her meaning clear in their tear-shrouded anxiety “—then this is where they will come.”
With quiet dignity, she gathered up some of the breakfast dishes and walked away. Last night they’d learned that Sonya had given all the household staff leave. On Perrini’s recommendation, of course.
So, okay, she understood the need for caution with the estate under siege from the media. Especially as Perrini already suspected someone in the know of leaking her flight arrival details to the Auckland press. She understood, but she reserved the right to feel snippy about his air of authority regarding all things Blackstone.
Ten years ago she’d stood toe-to-toe with Perrini and accused him of marrying her to become a Blackstone. She’d asked if he’d considered changing his name, since it was so obvious that Howard was treating him like a surrogate golden son. And she had felt like a meaningless pawn, her only value the Blackstone name and birthright.
To establish herself and to prove her worth she’d had to leave. And in her time away it seemed that Perrini had performed exactly as accused. He’d not only scaled the corporate ladder at Blackstone Diamonds, he’d become a part of the Blackstone family with a room at his disposal and the kind of easy rapport with Sonya and Danielle that only comes from constant contact.
She could only presume his relationship with her father had progressed to the same degree, and in her mind’s eye she saw the self-satisfied look on Howard’s face when they’d returned from that momentous vacation in San Francisco. When they’d decided, on a whim, to fly to Vegas for a weekend and he’d surprised her with the “impromptu” proposal.
She swallowed tightly, her throat constricted with raw, bitter emotion as she recalled Howard’s words when they’d walked hand-in-hand onto this very terrace and told him their news.
“Welcome to the family,” he’d said, jumping to his feet to shake Perrini’s hand and clap him on the back. “You never fail to disappoint me, Ric.”
Kimberley had felt the snub like a body blow then, and now it seemed as though her ostracism was complete. She was the outsider in her own family, and she’d made little effort to bridge that gap. Gathering up the rest of the breakfast plates, she pushed to her feet. “I’m going to help Sonya with the dishes.”
Over her coffee cup, Danielle arched her brows. “You know how to do dishes? You have changed, cuz. Colour me impressed.”
“Danielle has just suggested that I’ve changed.” Straightening from packing the dishwasher, Kimberley met Sonya’s constrained gaze across the impressive width of the Miramare kitchen. “But it seems you can still rely on me to say what I’m thinking, without thinking. I’m sorry, Sonya. I was feeling tetchy earlier when I made that crack about Ryan, but I wouldn’t have said what I did if I thought you might overhear.”
“The same as last night?”
How can I mourn such a man? How can anyone?
Kimberley blanched as she recalled what Sonya had overheard on the terrace the previous evening, but she refused to be a hypocrite even to spare her beloved aunt’s feelings. “I’m sorry you heard that, although I’m not sorry I said it.”
Sonya shook her head sadly. “He’s not all bad.”
“Why do you always defend him,” Kimberley shot back, “when he’s been such an utter bastard to so many people?”
“He’s been good to me, always. He provided me with a home and paid for my education after my father passed on. And he’s done the same for Danielle. I could not have wished more for my daughter than what’s been provided in your father’s home.”
Kimberley thought about her cousin, with whom she’d chatted long into the night about her designs and the materials she worked with and her fledgling business in Port Douglas. They had so much in common. And how could she dispute Sonya’s claim? “I want to disagree on principle,” she said after a moment, “but Danielle is so warm and lovely and talented and smart. She is a credit to her upbringing. You must be very proud.”
“I am, but it’s not only my doing, Kim. Did she tell you that Howard helped her with the capital to set up her business?”
“Yes, she did.” But Kimberley couldn’t help thinking there must have been something in it for Howard.
“He would have done the same for you,” her aunt said gently, “if you’d stayed.”
“I never wanted my own business.”
“Then he would have advanced you at Blackstone’s, the same as he’s done with Ryan and Ric. He loved you, Kim. Whatever else he may have done, whatever you hold against him, never forget that.”
There was so much heart in Sonya’s delivery, so much conviction, that Kimberley longed to believe her. Who didn’t yearn for their parents’ love? But Howard had too many strikes against him and the acrimony of their last encounter still burned in her stomach. He’d done nothing honourable, nothing to earn back the love he’d crushed like a worthless bug ten years before. And nothing in his attempted reconciliation suggested it meant anything to him beyond vengeance against the Hammonds.
Some of that resentment must have shown in her face because Sonya continued with the same earnest intensity. “I remember when you were born and Ursula told me how overjoyed he was to have a daughter. He chose your name, you know.”
“After the location of his mining leases?” she asked.
“Honey, you know that’s not the reason. When you came kicking and screaming into the world a week early—January twenty-sixth, Australia Day—he wanted a significant name, something fitting to mark our national holiday. He chose Kimberley because it’s his favourite part of Australia, because of the region’s natural beauty, and also because it is home to so many treasures. That’s you, Kim. You were always his treasure. Don’t ever forget that.”
Early Saturday morning, the pilot’s body was pulled from the water and AusSAR started making noises about calling off the search for survivors. Prepared for this eventuality, they had a team on standby to continue the search for the wreckage on the seabed. But Ric hadn’t expected it this soon. Until now he’d managed to harness his impatience and frustration, but all morning he’d been on the phone to every official contact he could find or make, only to be quoted policies and procedures until he ached to shove them back down officialdom’s collective throats.
He tossed the phone onto the armoire and dragged a weary hand over his face. He needed a shave. He needed sleep, too, not the restless minutes of shut-eye that were interrupted too soon by another phone call, another worried executive needing reassurance, another headline about the company’s future to repudiate.
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