‘Neither should you,’ she flashed back. ‘You’ve obviously made up your mind about me—about my family—without even bothering to get to know us.’
‘From what I’ve heard about the Conways since I came home a couple of days ago, I’m not sure I’d want to be bothered.’
‘Oh?’ She was dismayed at the stab of hurt she felt. Not so much at what he might have heard—there was always envious gossip about the Conways—but at the derision in his voice. It was a new sensation, being scorned by a man. She tossed her head, not showing her hurt. ‘And just what have you heard?’
‘Let’s head back to the orchard, shall we, and I’ll enlighten you? Hopefully we’ll find our wayward mounts there.’
She swallowed a flare of pique that he’d been the one to think of the horses first, not herself. Honestly, what was wrong with her? She was usually so cool and in command of any situation she faced. But with this man she felt as if she were floundering in an uncharted sea.
Not sure she wanted to be enlightened, she swept past him, determined not to fall casually into step beside him. But she could hear him close behind her, his heavy boots scrunching through the pine needles.
It had become darker in the forest, she realised. Much darker. Where before there’d been fleecy white clouds above with occasional bursts of sunlight, now there was a heavy blanket of ominously dark grey above and no sign of the sun. Not that it was cold. It had been hot and humid all week, with bouts of unusually heavy early-summer rain, and it was still sultry. Not that she minded the heat. She loved everything about her rustic home-away-from-home. She had everything here...peace, spectacular beauty, fresh air...and freedom.
As she headed for the old fruit orchard around which the pine forest had been planted well over a decade ago, she heard O’Malley’s voice curling around her, answering the question she wished she’d never asked. Any gossip he’d picked up about the Conways was bound to be twisted, if not totally wrong.
‘The story going around,’ he drawled, ‘is that Hugh Conway—well-known member of the Melbourne Establishment and head of the famous Conway stockbroking firm—bought Fernlea, with its thousand-odd acres, historic Federation mansion, and old English garden, to indulge his only daughter...you, Miss Conway.’
She shot a virulent glance over her shoulder, but she couldn’t deny it. Her father had bought Fernlea, basically, for her.
‘You wanted more room for your horses, it seems.’ The lazy voice wafted after her. ‘The family’s previous weekend farm closer to Melbourne didn’t provide enough space for your riding and jumping pursuits. Your father’s prize Angus cattle were beginning to overrun the available space, so a bigger and better property had to be found.’
When she made no comment, he added languidly, ‘Not that you or your parents have been living down here permanently, I gather. You’ve been flitting between Fernlea and the palatial family home back in Toorak...with jaunts to the luxury beach-house at Portsea and the odd trip to Paris and London and New York in between. You’ve spent time at international horse shows.’ He paused, then drawled silkily, ‘I’m sure you sit a horse beautifully, Miss Conway.’
‘I thought it was only women who lapped up gossip,’ she snapped over her shoulder. ‘You’ve been back home for barely two days and you think you know all there is to know about us! Well, you’ve told me more than I’ll ever want to know about you, Mr O’Malley. You should do something about that chip on your shoulder. It’s most unattractive!’
‘If I have one, it’s with good reason.’
Her step faltered. ‘Meaning?’
‘Forget it. Are Mummy and Daddy down here with you?’ he asked blandly.
She gritted her teeth and answered levelly, ‘My parents had to go back to town this morning, but they’ll be down again on Friday for a few days.’
‘Well...so for now you’re lady of the manor? Literally.’
Her eyes wavered. ‘What do you mean—literally?’ ‘Fernlea—as I’m sure you already know—was once one of the grand old homes of Gippsland. Some of the old English oaks and elms in the garden are over a hundred years old. You must have great fun swanning around your grand estate, throwing house parties for your socialite pals!’
‘It might have been a grand old home once,’ she flashed back, ‘but it was badly in need of repair when we bought it.’ A fractious frown creased her brow. He made it sound as if her father had bought Fernlea simply to indulge a spoilt daughter’s whim...as if it were no more to her than a diverting hobby farm or weekend retreat. How wrong he was! ‘We’ve been gradually repairing and renovating the place over time...’
‘Sparing no expense, I’m sure.’
‘Meanwhile,’ she said, ignoring his comment, ‘it’s quite livable. Peeling paint and frayed curtains and a sagging, rusty roof are not things that greatly bother me,’ she assured him tartly. ‘There were lots of other more urgent things that needed doing first. Like mending fences and clearing away the choking blackberries and fixing up the run-down stables and levelling off an area for a jumping course and—’
‘And buying up old Henderson’s property, Plane Tree Flats, to add to your domain...even though it’s on our side of the river and of more use to us.’ The contempt was back in his voice.
Her head jerked round. ‘You’re saying that you—the O’Malleys—wanted to buy that piece of land?’
‘That’s right. It used to belong to my family—until a bushfire and drought nearly wiped us out when I was a boy, forcing my father to sell off that chunk of land. Dad’s been wanting to buy it back for years. When the chance came,’ he ground out, ‘Hugh Conway swanned in with a higher offer and we lost out.’
‘So that’s why you hate us,’ Taryn breathed. She stopped and swung round, planting her hands on her hips. As she raised her eyes to his face, she swallowed. Hard. It was so dark in the forest by now that the granite-hard face under the mass of dark hair looked positively frightening, causing her heart to skip in sudden panic. If he hated her so much...
‘We were trying to help Charley Henderson,’ she offered in her father’s defence, aware that her voice sounded annoyingly husky. ‘The old man was badly in debt and in very poor health. He needed to be closer to town and hospital care. Now he’ll be able to live comfortably for the rest of his life, with the best of medical care at his fingertips.’
‘Oh, I’m sure your father was acting out of the goodness of his heart when he bought that prime piece of land over our heads,’ O’Malley bit back with scorn. ‘What good is it to you? It’s on the other side of the river, with no access from your property!’
‘There will be. We’re building a bridge across the river.’
‘Of course. Naturally. And I’m sure it will be a state-of-the-art concrete bridge too, not a rickety old thing like the one between your property and ours. Which is likely to wash away, incidentally, if we get any more heavy rain. The river normally fades to a trickle once the hot weather starts, but this year it’s flowing like crazy.’
She jerked a careless shoulder. She knew about the old timber bridge over the river, where it ran between the O’Malleys’ property and theirs, but with the ill feeling between the two families it would hardly matter if it did wash away. It was unlikely that either family would want to use it anyway.
‘Talking of heavy rain... ’ O’Malley glanced up at the sky ’...I’d say that’s just what we’re about to get.’
She glanced up too, and stifled a groan. The sky looked even more threatening now, and she could hear thunder rumbling in the distance.