His Australian Heiress (14 page)

Julian met his son's searching eyes. “If I could have had one woman in all the world, the one I would have chosen would have been Alyssa,” he confessed, “but Christopher had already won her hand. That was it! So I married your mother, an elegant and refined young woman. I was determined to make her happy.
I
was determined to be happy.”

“Only it all went wrong when your wife plumbed how you really felt?”

Julian nodded fiercely. “You've never been under any illusions, Bren. I know that. I worked very hard to make your mother happy. You never saw any sign of discord between us when you were growing up. Both of us wanted you to have the best life possible, a happy, stable home. That's what you got.”

“So Mum would have felt no warmth towards Alyssa from very early on?”

“It was hardly Alyssa's fault that I had
feelings
for her.” Julian made a conscious effort to keep calm. “Those feelings were never spoken of, never hinted at, never aired.”

“Except women are aware of such things,” Brendon said. “They don't have to dig for answers, they just
know
.”

“We men understand that, Bren,” his father said. “It was an attraction that went
nowhere.
Alyssa loved Christopher. She had made her choice. I accepted that. I am not a predatory man. I am not a dishonourable man.”

“Of course you're not, Dad. Only Mum
knew
, and someone else knew,” Brendon said. “Someone who hated both you and Alyssa.”

Julian's grey eyes, the eyes his son had inherited, darkened to slate. His emotions, normally kept under control, had been brought to an unexpected head by his son's questions. “The only leads I had led nowhere, and I deliberately provoked answers. The deaths of Alyssa and Christopher, as you can imagine, came like a stab in the heart. I freely admit I've never gotten over the tragedy. I bury myself in my work.”

“Work isn't the answer, Dad,” Brendon said. “I worry about you. I worry about Mother. If you divorced, both of you could have the chance at a better life. You're a distinguished man, and you look great! If Mum would only loosen up a bit, she would have no difficulty finding a partner who could love her.”

“You're missing something extremely telling, Bren,” Julian said, his chiselled features grown taut. “Your mother loves
me
.”

“I know it. I see it,” Brendon said emphatically. “Are you saying you can never leave her?”

Julian put his glasses back on his nose. “That's exactly what I'm saying, Bren.”

“You mean, you have no choice in the matter?” Brendon asked, thinking all chance of future happiness for the father he loved was cast to the wind.

“Brendon, your mother has demonstrated her devotion to me all these years. I'm not going to let her down. It would kill her, I promise.”

Brendon shook his dark, handsome head, almost despairingly. “Mum is lucky to have
you
, Dad. You've set yourself a hard course. We have friends in our circle who are divorcing. Most of them have gone on to find other partners. I love my mother, but I do know she doesn't offer much in the way of lightheartedness.”

“That's her nature, son.” Julian sighed. “Not every woman can be so vibrant they capture attention. Take young Charlotte. She has the Mansfield colouring, the blond hair and the green eyes. She doesn't have the Mansfield height. Alyssa was petite. Charlotte is starting to look more and more like her mother, even to the cleft in her chin. Alyssa had that. Charlotte is as much her mother's daughter as her father's. There's no question Conrad and Patricia did everything in their power to make Alyssa feel unwelcome. She could have complained about them to Sir Reginald, but she never did.”

“Maybe she should have,” Brendon considered. “So, the more Charlotte gets to resemble her mother, the more
my
mother is going to dislike her?” he asked crisply and half-shook his head.

“I don't like it any more than you do,” Julian acknowledged his deep disappointment.

Brendon gazed back at his father, allowing his anger to show. “Hang on, have the two of you spoken about it?”

“Brendon, I'm sorry.” Julian raised his hand. “I've said my piece many times, but for all my efforts, your mother doesn't like the way you look at Charlotte. She doesn't like the way you've always looked out for her, from boyhood. She would much prefer you to turn your attention to another young woman we know. God knows there are enough of them out there interested in you.”

Brendon sat back, understanding that nothing was simple in life. Certainly not his life. Women could and did go crazy with jealousy. “So, one reason Charlotte was hardly ever invited into our home was because my mother didn't want her around?” he asked, openly angry.

Julian's sigh was deep. “Brendon, I can't see it changing. Your mother has a very intense nature.”

Brendon knew that well. “All these years later, and Mum hasn't outrun her jealousy,” he said. “You've dug a deep pit for yourself, Dad.”

Julian Mansfield threw up his hands in defeat. “Hardly anyone gets to live a life free of regret, Brendon,” he said intensely. “I stay with your mother because I believe that if I left her, she would stray perilously close to taking her own life. She's that kind of woman.”

Brendon felt so much like choking, he had to unfasten his collar and yank down his silk tie. “God, Dad! How long have you believed this?”

“For too long,” Julian said quietly. “I believe it so strongly I've been forced to yield.”

“It's emotional blackmail, and you could be wrong.” Brendon was getting a highly unwelcome image of his mother.

“I'm not wrong, Bren. I'm answering your questions as truthfully as I can. Questions you're entitled to ask.”

There was an implacable light in Brendon's eyes. “I'll never stop looking out for Charlotte, Dad.”

“That could be because you not only love her, you're
in
love with her, son,” Julian said quietly.

Brendon shook his head. “Charlotte doesn't want to get mixed up with us. She knows how to avoid the dangers. She sure as hell wouldn't tolerate Mum's coldness. But Charlotte and I are friends, comrades. I won't be offering her any ring, if that's what everyone seems to think. She wouldn't take it anyway. She'd be better off picking a name out of a hat.”

* * *

Brendon had no sooner returned to his office, his face reflecting his anger and upset, when Charlotte walked through the open door. Her green eyes swept over him. “What is it, Bren? What's happened?” Her voice was urgent. She had caught the bleakness in him.

Brendon managed to lighten his expression. “Shut the door, Charlie.”

“Sure.” Charlotte did so.

“You needn't worry. I'm just a bit browned off,” he said briskly. “I've a question of my own.” He waved her into a chair. “What are we going to do about your cousin? He's certain to deny the incident happened. He'll have his puppet-on-a-string girlfriend to back him up.”

Charlotte lowered her tote bag to the carpet. “I've already taken that into account, but I have a feeling Carol
won't
lie for him. Carol doesn't strike me as a liar.”

“Intuition again?” Brendon's head was crammed with visions of Charlotte right through their entwined lives: her cleverness, her spirit, her animation. He knew now what his father had been talking about when he spoke of Alyssa.

“Certainly, but I know people who know Carol,” Charlotte said. “She's had her head turned by Simon. He
is
handsome. He's rich. I daresay, if you agreed with him all the time, he could be pleasant enough. Carol hasn't had enough time to judge his character.”

“He doesn't have any character.” Brendon's tone was scornful. “He's the classic example of a guy who has gotten by on the family connections. He has never had the slightest interest in emulating his uncle Christopher or his grandfather.”

“It's beyond him, Bren. He can't help that. Having a brilliant grandfather is no guarantee the rest of us would inherit his formidable business brain.”

Brendon lowered his head into his hands. “I'm not saying that, but Simon's had enough training in business to hold down a decent job. Currently he doesn't have a job. He's a firm believer in the pleasure principle. He's living such a luxurious lifestyle even
his
inheritance can run out. What then? Is he going to come begging to you at some point in the future?”

Charlotte found she couldn't relax, not with Brendon looking so stressed. “Didn't one of the Vanderbilts say that inherited wealth is certain death to ambition?”

Brendon felt his tension ease. “If you say so.” There was amusement back in his eyes. “What concerns me is Simon's bad relationship with you.”

“Wealth does affect relationships, Bren,” Charlotte pointed out. “All sorts of relationships, even with you and me. The burden outweighs the advantages. As far as Grandpa's various companies go, he put highly competent men in charge. I'm leaving them in place. At this point there's no need for change in any of the outfits. I'm certain these men will work well for me, but I'll be calling regular meetings. I want to learn. I intend to ask for their help and support. Business has always been male-oriented, but more and more women are crashing through the glass ceiling.”

“They are, I'm happy to say, but what about your law career?” Brendon asked. Charlotte would make a brilliant barrister, even a QC one day.

“It
was
to be my future, Bren, but my whole life has changed. You know that. It'll be more than enough for me learning the ropes. Grandfather's enterprises can't stand still. They have to go from strength to strength. There must be scope for expansion, new enterprises, medical science, technology, renewable energy. Take your pick. It's a new age. I care about my country. I care about doing good with all this money, far more than I could possibly need in a long, lavish lifetime. I have had the odd moment when I've thought of giving most of the money away and living my own life, out of the limelight, using my own talents.”

“But you feel the responsibility?” He knew that was the case.

“I do.”

Brendon nodded. He found himself comparing Charlotte's strength with that of her uncle and cousin. Sir Reginald had made a hard choice, but a good choice. He had every confidence in Charlotte. As a rule, the professional men he knew saw themselves as superior to their female counterparts. With successful women he had found a broader sense of purpose. Charlotte sat before him dressed in a short, form-fitting black dress that showed off her pale gold legs of summer, paired with a short white linen jacket. Her glazed black tote bag sat at her feet. She was wearing her familiar high-heeled pumps in black patent leather. Her beautiful hair was drawn back from her face. Diamond studs flashed in her ears. She looked stunning. That was the norm for Charlotte.

“You Macmillans are big shareholders in Grandfather's companies,” she was saying. “Your grandfather and your father sit on most of the boards.”

“They do, but many was the time your grandfather overrode company decisions. Sir Reginald was a ruthless operator,” Brendon said. “He didn't give a damn about victims of his manipulations. There are stories galore about that.”

“So I believe,” Charlotte said coolly, “but things will change. Ruthless or not, Grandpa gave away millions. To most people the amount is staggering. Let's not forget that.”

“No one is forgetting it,” Brendon responded just as coolly. “Though there was always method in it,” he added dryly.

She met his beautiful light eyes, aware of the powerful complex intimacy between them. “I want you to sit on some of the boards, Bren.” She sat watching him, waiting.

“Oh, Charlie, baby!” he groaned.

“I
need
you, Bren,” she said with great conviction. “And I'm determined to get you. We're of like mind. I trust you.”

“Are you saying you don't trust my grandfather and father?” He grimaced.

For a while Charlotte said nothing. “I trust you more,” she said finally. “You know where I want to go.”

“What if I do?” He shrugged. “You'd need a lot more support to get me voted onto any board. Even colleagues in Chambers aren't all that happy with my rise to power.”

“That's what power is all about, Bren,” Charlotte said, “getting things done. If I want you, no one is going to stand in my way. I believe we need to invest more in industry, in innovation. We're the future, Bren. We need to be whiz kids. We need to take whiz kids on board. Surround ourselves with them. Give them the necessary backing to achieve their goals.”

“You're very ambitious, Charlotte,” he said, understanding her aims perfectly.

“Aren't you as well? We're ambitious for ourselves to a degree, but we're ambitious for our country. Isn't that right?”

“Dead-right,” Brendon said. “But first we have to solve the problem of Simon, and after that, your uncle Conrad. We can't leave things as they are.”

“I know that,” Charlotte said irritably. “Carol works in the university library. I'm thinking of calling in on her.”

“What, today?” One of Brendon's dark brows shot up.

“What better day? I'll sound her out. Despite her being heavily under Simon's influence, I think she'll go with the truth. If Simon wasn't trying to run us off the road, he was definitely trying to scare us.”

Brendon remembered those long moments of anger and anxiety. “He took one hell of a risk with our lives, and his for that matter. I suppose you can find out what Carol has to say. I'm not at all convinced she'll go against him. I'd come with you, only I have to finish this for Dad.” He slapped a hand down hard on a pile of files.