His Heiress Wife

His Heiress Wife
Margaret Way

Olivia Linfield was the beautiful Havilah heiress.Jason Corey was the boy from the wrong side of the tracks made good. It was to be the wedding of the decade. Except it never took place…. Seven years later, Olivia returns to the Queensland homestead she's inherited.To her shock, she discovers Jason installed at the Havilah plantation as estate manager. Should Olivia send him packing? Or will Jason manage to persuade Olivia how much he still loves her, and always has….

“I love this dress,” Jason murmured.

“I’d love it even better if it was lying on the grass. I can’t go another day, another night without you, Liv. Let me love you, as I want to. Don’t be sad and bitter. I’ve been punished.”

Olivia was very near tears. “What are you saying, Jason? You want us to start over?”

“Yes!” His tone was urgent, heartfelt. “Haven’t we both suffered enough? I want you back, Liv.”

Margaret Way takes great pleasure in her work and works hard at her pleasure. She enjoys tearing off to the beach with her family at weekends, loves haunting galleries and auctions and is completely given over to French champagne “for every possible joyous occasion.” She was born and educated in the river city of Brisbane, Australia, and now lives within sight and sound of beautiful Moreton Bay.

His Heiress Wife

Margaret Way

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

ON THAT hot November afternoon before school broke up for the Christmas vacation Olivia returned to her trendy inner-city apartment to find the red light flashing on her answering machine. She pushed the button leaning casually against the kitchen counter to listen to her messages. While she was waiting she kicked off her shoes, contemplating a swim in the apartment complex’s pool to relax and wind-down. She gave her attention to the mail, sorting through it quickly. She was so looking forward to the long summer break. In many ways it had been an exhausting year. Adolescent girls weren’t the easiest people in the world to deal with. especially the ones who had embarked on sex lives.

There was a postcard from a friend who was always dashing off to exotic parts of the world—this time Peru, hence the picture of the ruins of Machu Picchu; a stack of invitations to Christmas functions and parties, the phone bill—accompanied by a booklet of helpful hints; a letter from a favoured charity that specialized in looking after families in need thanking her for her generous Christmas donation. She was pleased to help in fact she felt duty bound. Her career as a secondary school teacher was flourishing. She had slipped into prestigious Ormiston Girls Grammar three years earlier as though the job had been tailor made for her. She was well paid and she had private means. Why shouldn’t she give something back to the community? She’d sent off cheques to other charities as well.

The first recorded message was from Matt Edwards who she had been seeing quite a bit. Matt wanted to know if she’d fancy a romantic weekend at the glorious beach resort of Noosa on the Sunshine Coast. She’d have to think about that one. She enjoyed Matt’s company. He was an interesting man, but alas not rivetting. Rivetting men were few and far between which was just as well for the protection of women—such men became dangerous in the blink of an eye. Olivia thought it better to settle for quiet, everlasting devotion.

Matt was attractive with a dry sense of humour that appealed to her. He was getting to make quite a name for himself as a corporate lawyer. He’d just bought himself an expensive new car which miracle of miracles he’d allowed her to take for a short drive around the block. One would have to look really hard to find a man who appreciated a woman’s driving skills let alone her intelligence, but then Matt was devoting a lot of his energies to winning Olivia over with a view to getting her to the altar. The sad part was, he wasn’t succeeding. She already knew she would never love him.

She knew all about love—the sort of love that enraptured or ruined. It was Heaven or Hell and there seemed to be no in-between. Attraction was too tame after that. Any day now she would have to tell Matt he was wasting precious time. She just couldn’t commit. Maybe it all stemmed from the fact that once she’d almost been married. Sometimes when she was tired or depressed and slipped unwillingly into memory she thought she might always be on her own. She’d taken scissors to her wedding dress and veil and a week later she’d cut off her long mane. No man would slide his fingers through her hair again.

“Liv, you push the guys away!” That was her friend, Julie talking. Julie tended to nag her. The thing was it wasn’t easy to forget what love was like—even when love was done.

The second message was from the mother of a really problematic kid in her Maths class who’d made flouncing out of lessons an art form. Olivia hadn’t been prepared to tolerate that. A grateful mother thanked her for achieving “wonderful results with Charlotte” the third from a recently married colleague inviting her and Matt over to a dinner party—“I’m getting in early, kiddo! You’re amazingly popular.”

The last message profoundly shocked her. The letter opener fell out of her nerveless hand, clattering onto the tiles. Olivia moved with urgency nearer the machine, her heart lurching in anticipation of the bad news she knew instinctively was to come.

The voice was as familiar as her own but it was not the good-natured affectionate ramble she was used to. Instead Grace Gordon, Harry’s long-time housekeeper, sounded wildly upset. The words came tumbling out so fast Olivia had difficulty making out exactly what Grace was saying.

“Livvy, it’s me. It’s Gracie, love.” The voice invaded the small kitchen so loudly, it reverberated down the galley. “Livvy, you have to come home.”

Olivia squeezed her eyes shut. What was wrong? It struck her immediately that it must be Harry. Harry always kept good health, but he was well into his seventies.

“Something awful has happened.” The words crackled down the line. “I couldn’t get through to you at the school. Some awful woman—so rude—told me you were in a meeting with the Head and couldn’t be disturbed. I hate to be the bearer of sad news, love.” There was a pause, as Grace battled her choking sobs, “It’s your uncle Harry,” she wailed, confirming Olivia’s worst fears. “He’s had a massive heart attack. He’s dead, Livvy! Three o’clock this afternoon just when I had a nice cup of tea ready for him. It was a terrible shock—it came right out of the blue. He’d been right as rain. Jason has been wonderful. A tower of strength.”

Jason? For an instant Olivia felt slashed open. How many Jasons could there be? The name struck another frightful blow. Olivia reeled back against the granite-topped counter, putting a hand over her thudding heart. What was Jason doing at Havilah? He had no right to show his face there ever again!

“Come home, love,” Grace was imploring, unable to gain control of her sobs. “Jason understands you’ll want to make the arrangements. Please ring me back, love, as soon as you can. I’m sorry I’m not making much sense, but I’m so upset.”

And what of me? In a daze, Olivia found her way into the living room, leaving her mail to spill unregarded to the kitchen floor. She slumped into a chair, feeling as though she had been utterly gutted. Harry was dead. Jason was a tower of strength. There was something very strange indeed going on. How and why was Jason at Havilah? Wasn’t Jason managing an Outback cattle station, his wife and child with him? Clearly he’d come back. But why? More importantly why hadn’t Harry told her?

Because he knew how much talk of Jason would upset you, her inner voice told her. Jason Corey had caused her tremendous pain. Years before as a girl of twenty she had thought her life was over when her fiancé Jason had jilted her on the eve of their wedding. At nearly twenty-seven she imagined she’d fought free of the pain and humiliation. Yet it only took the sound of his name to undo her. Grief and bitterness ran down Olivia’s cheeks in salty tears.

“Jason has been a tower of strength.”

Even the way Grace said it—Grace had always had such a soft spot for Jason—told Olivia it had to be her Jason.

Her Jason? She felt a stab of self-contempt that even under the terrible stress of the moment she could revert to thinking of him that way. He’d never been hers. Even when he’d been passionately declaring his love for her he’d slept with another girl—made her pregnant. She had trusted Jason with her life and she had never forgiven him. Just as she had never forgiven Megan Duffy who had been a childhood friend and was to be one of her four chosen bridesmaids.

She was Megan Corey now—Jason’s wife, mother of their child. Probably there were other children, too, Jason was so bloody potent. No one would tell Olivia. Everyone realized she didn’t want to know. As far as she was concerned, Jason and Megan belonged to the traumatic past. Consequently she was unwilling to believe Harry could allow Jason back into his life. When she suffered, Harry had suffered. Her uncle Harry, great-uncle really, was from her father’s side of the family. He had raised her since her parents had been killed in a rail disaster when she was ten. Harry was a bachelor—no-one including Harry quite knew why—and he had inherited the family ancestral home, Havilah Plantation in tropical North Queensland. The Linfields were pioneers of the sugar industry with the great bulk of the nation’s production contributed by the tropical North. In the early days Havilah had played host to Captain Louis Hope, revered as the father of the sugar industry. Born in Scotland, Captain Hope had established the first sugar cane plantation just outside Brisbane in the early l860s. From those beginnings had grown an industry that each year traded forty million tonnes of high quality raw sugar on the world market. The Linfields had always been very proud of their heritage.

Her parents, when they had made their wills, had named Harry as her guardian should anything happen to them. In those days it was thought to be a sensible precaution. Her parents were always described as “the glamorous young Linfields.” They were rich and blessed with good looks. They bore their name proudly and fully intended to live to a ripe old age.

It wasn’t in their stars. Death had presented itself twelve years into an idyllic marriage when they were both still in their thirties. Death didn’t miss rich families any more than it missed the poor. Three sons of the family had lost their lives fighting for the Allied cause in two World Wars. Olivia could scarcely believe it was less than a week since she had last spoken to Harry. Sometimes she called him several times in the one week, especially as he was getting older, but with end of year activities at the school she’d been particularly busy. Sometimes she thought she desperately needed to see Havilah again, but she knew she couldn’t endure it. There were too many memories to relive. She had grown tired of anguish. Her wedding reception was to have been held in Havilah’s great barn, Harry had had transformed into the most marvellous banquet hall and ballroom with a springy pine floor. Every last detail had been planned to perfection. Harry had spared no expense, everyone had been so happy the very air was sweet. This was a match made in heaven. She had thought at times she couldn’t possibly contain such happiness. She adored Jason. She couldn’t get through a day without him. She was on fire for him. And he for her.

All lies. Jason, the very image of true love to her, had had feet of clay.

Now her beloved Harry who knew all her traumas and her triumphs had left her. She thought how wonderful he had always been to her, involving himself in every aspect of her life. She’d received an excellent education graduating from university with a degree in education by the time she was twenty. She’d confidently expected to gain a position with one of the district’s high schools for a few years until she and Jason started a family. Afterwards when their much hoped for children were old enough she could resume her career.

Daydreams! But how could she have known differently? Everyone around her was convinced Jason was deeply, madly, irrevocably in love with her. His eyes when he looked at her! His voice when he spoke to her!

“He adores you!” Or so people told her.

How ghastly it had been to discover overnight that Jason had gone ahead and started a family with Megan Duffy. For a quiet girl Megan had been a fast worker. It was just as they said: still waters run deep. Megan’s father and brother had worked and probably still did for Uncle Harry at the mill. When other mills had been forced to close down, Linfield had remained open and Uncle Harry had been kindness itself to the families of his employees. How Megan had repaid him. Even Megan’s parents had been shockingly upset when they found out their only daughter was pregnant by Jason Corey of all people. That was some piece of information! It had shocked the entire district. Jason Corey was about to marry Olivia Linfield. Everyone knew Olivia and Jason had been bonded from childhood, they were meant for each other.