The Mirrabrook Marriage

Sinking into her deep swivel chair, she let the memories come.

CHAPTER TWO

SARAH met Reid in the School Hall where everybody gathered for supper after the Speech Night presentations. Because she was School Captain and had delivered a farewell speech to her fellow students that evening, she was kept busy for ages while everyone from the local mayor to the school gardener congratulated her.

Which was all very nice, but by the time she escaped to the long trestle tables where tea and coffee and cakes were served there was nothing left. Boarding school girls were piranhas around food.

Draining a heavy teapot, she managed half a cup of cool, brewed tea and found a dubiously thin slice of very boring sponge cake, minus its icing.

‘It’s a grim turnout when the most important girl in the school can’t even find a cup of tea,’ a male voice said close behind her.

Even before she turned around she knew the speaker was smiling; she could hear it in the warmth in his voice. Just the same, when she turned to look over her shoulder she wasn’t prepared for the full effect of that smile.

Oh, wow! Talk about gorgeous!

He had to be in his mid-twenties, which immediately set him apart from the schoolboys of her acquaintance. Tall, dark and, yes, yummy looking too—he had the bronzed, outdoorsy skin and athletic physique of a man of the land. And the most wonderful, iridescent, silver-grey eyes.

The moment she looked into them Sarah felt as if she’d zoomed straight into the stratosphere. Far out! If only she wasn’t wearing her school uniform! What a bummer to meet such a scrumptious guy when she was stuck in a crummy blazer, shapeless white blouse and tie, teamed with a too-long ugly grey pleated skirt.

Not that the clothes seemed to put him off.

‘We should be able to find someone to make you a fresh pot of tea,’ he said.

She dragged her eyes from him to cast a quick glance around the supper tables. ‘I can’t see any of the kitchen staff here.’

Without hesitation he picked up one of the huge metal teapots. His eyes sparkled with merriment and she fancied she caught the ghost of a wink. ‘Let’s go and hunt them down then. Which way is the kitchen?’

She gasped—not because there was anything particularly shocking about the stranger’s suggestion, but because she was so stunned that he was obviously using the lack of tea as an excuse to chat her up. But heavens, why not let him? Here she was, on the brink of leaving school, on the eve of womanhood, and she’d just looked into his eyes and seen a glimpse of a beckoning, enticing new world.

‘The kitchen’s this way,’ she said, pointing to a doorway in the opposite wall.

Holding the teapot under one arm, he placed a hand very lightly at her elbow. ‘Let’s go then.’

‘Right.’ Feeling just a little breathless, she hurried with him across the hall, making sure she avoided the gaze of anyone else in the room. It would be too bad to be called away now by a teacher or an inquisitive girlfriend.

Once they reached the relative safety of the corridor leading to the kitchen she felt more relaxed. ‘Do you have a sister at school here?’ she asked him.

‘Yes, Annie McKinnon. Sorry, I should have introduced myself.’ He switched the teapot to his other arm and offered her his hand. ‘My name’s Reid. Reid McKinnon.’

‘Hi, Reid.’ In an effort to suppress her mounting excitement her voice came out rather husky and low. ‘Annie’s a great kid. I’m Sarah Rossiter by the way.’

‘Yes, I know. You’re the famous and fabulous School Captain. My little sister idolises you.’

‘Annie’s a bright spark. I’ve been coaching her in debating.’

‘She’s in excellent hands then. I must congratulate you on the speech you gave tonight. It was very, very good.’

‘Thank you.’ She’d been told this many times this evening, but to her annoyance she felt her cheeks heat. No doubt they were bright pink.

‘Such inspiring words of wisdom from one so young.’

She rolled her eyes at him.

He grinned. ‘I mean it, Sarah. You were very impressive.’

When they reached the kitchen, Ellen Sparks, the cook, plonked her hands on her hips and scowled at them. ‘Do they expect me to make more tea?’

Reid beat Sarah to an answer. ‘If you could manage one more pot we’d be extremely grateful.’

He seemed to have the same effect on Ellen that he’d had on Sarah. Instant charm. The cook pouted at him for less than five seconds before her resistance gave way to a cheerful smile. ‘No worries, love,’ she said, taking the pot. ‘It’ll be ready in half a tick.’

The kitchen hands scrubbing pots at the sink smirked and giggled.

Just outside the kitchen there was a small walled garden where the cook grew a few herbs. There were gardenia bushes too and white jasmine climbing a rickety trellis and a slatted timber seat where the kitchen staff liked to rest their weary legs and sneak cigarettes when they thought the teachers weren’t looking.

‘Why don’t we park ourselves out here while we’re waiting?’ Reid suggested.

Sarah could hardly believe that within scant minutes of their meeting she was sitting out here with him—in the romantic dark, beneath a starry sky and surrounded by the heady fragrance of jasmine and gardenias.

In no time at all she was telling him about herself—that she was an only child and came from a cattle property called Wirralong on the banks of the Burdekin River not far out of Charters Towers—that she played guitar, planned to become a primary school teacher and would study at university in Townsville.

And once the tea was ready Reid suggested it made sense to drink it out in the garden rather than lugging the heavy pot all the way back into the hall. Sarah hesitated, momentarily struggling against her usual tendency to worry about what others might expect of her. Were her parents or teachers looking for her?

But another glimpse into Reid’s eyes and she threw caution to the wind. They poured their cups of tea and helped themselves to milk, sugar and biscuits from the big kitchen pantry, and took their feast back outside to sit for a little longer in the starlight.

Reid told her about his own boarding school days and the year he’d spent adventuring overseas in Scotland and Europe. And he told her about his family’s property, Southern Cross, over to the north in the Star Valley.

The conversation was exceedingly proper and safe and polite, but for Sarah it was incredibly thrilling. It was more than a little flattering to receive what appeared to be sincere and rapt attention from an older, super-attractive man.

She feared he might try to crack unfunny jokes that she would have to laugh at, or that he would spoil things by getting sleazy—trying something on—but he didn’t. Not once.

‘Sarah Rossiter, is that you?’

A shrill, all too familiar voice split the night air behind them.

Startled, Sarah spun around to see the bulky shape of the Deputy Headmistress silhouetted in the light of the kitchen doorway.

Oh, crumbs. She sprang guiltily to her feet. ‘Yes, Miss Gresham.’

‘Good heavens, girl. What on earth—?’ The Deputy gasped and huffed and made a fair imitation of frothing at the mouth. ‘What are you doing out here?’

Damn. Sarah knew she was about to blacken her exemplary school record. Now, at the eleventh hour.

But, before she could stammer an inadequate reply, Reid stepped forward.

‘Miss Gresham, this is my fault. I have to confess to luring Miss Rossiter away from the hall for a well-earned cup of tea.’

‘But—but—’ the Deputy spluttered.