A Wife At Kimbara

All the players were exceptionally fast and focused, the ponies superbly trained especially with all those clubs swinging near their heads and the competition it seemed to her anxious, dazzled eyes exceptionally fierce.

Once she thought Stewart charging at full tilt would come off his horse trying to prevent his son driving the ball through the goal posts. He didn’t succeed but it appeared to Rebecca to be too dangerous an effort. For all his fitness and splendid physique, Stewart was in his mid-fifties. No match really for the turning, twisting, speeding Broderick, the most dashing player on the field, though the commanding Cameron brothers ran him close. But for sheer daring, Brod Kinross had the added edge if only to beat his father. They certainly acted as if they were engaged in a highly stylised joust.

“That was close,” Rebecca, a little frightened, murmured to Fee who was lounging in a deck chair beside her. “I thought Stewart would be flung out of the saddle.”

Trying to impress you, my dear, Fee thought. “It’s a dangerous game, darling. I had a dear friend, Tommy Fairchild, killed on the polo field. That was some years ago in England but I think of him almost every other day. Brod’s a dare devil. I think it’s important to him to even up a few scores.”

“Meaning?” Rebecca turned her head to stare into Fee’s eyes, finding them covered by very expensive sunglasses.

“Good Lord, Rebecca, I know how perceptive you are,” Fee said. “Didn’t it strike you that afternoon you met Stewart and Brod that they don’t get on.”

“Perhaps a little.” She kept the fact she’d overheard them quarrelling to herself.

“Darling, you can’t fool me. You’ve noticed, all right. Both of them were trying but it’s just something they have to live with.”

“But you said Brod has to even up the score?” Just to speak his name gave her a peculiar thrill.

“Brod has been on the receiving end for a long time,” Fee confided. “I dote on him as you know. And Alison. I’m going to make sure you meet her. Stewart became very withdrawn after the children’s mother left. Brod, despite the fact he’s a Kinross through and through, has his mother’s beautiful eyes. Perhaps looking into them brings up too many painful memories for Stewart.” After all it wasn’t inconceivable.

“Do you really think that?” Even Rebecca sounded sceptical.

“No.” Fee delicately grimaced. “The truth is Stewart wasn’t cut out to be a father. Not every man is.”

“Then Brod and his sister must have suffered?” Rebecca rested back in the recliner prepared to listen.

“Assuredly, my dear,” Fee agreed. “Money can’t bring everything to life, not that I’ve ever been without it,” she had the grace to admit. “But so far as Brod is concerned his upbringing has only made him tougher. Unlike his little mother. Petite, like you. Lucille was her name. Pretty as a picture.” Fee’s mind instantly conjured up a vision of Lucille on her wedding day. Young, radiant, madly in love with her Stewart. She’d flown home to be Lucille’s chief bridesmaid. Her little pal from their schooldays but she’d never been around to lend Lucille her support. She’d been too busy becoming a celebrity.

“She didn’t last long,” Rebecca observed sadly, echoing Fee’s own thoughts.

“No. It was all quite dreadful. You can’t imagine how shocked I was when I got the news. Sir Andy rang me. I always called my father that. He was knighted by the Queen for his services to the pastoral industry.”

Something Rebecca already knew. “Stewart didn’t ring you?” she interrupted gently.

“No,” Fee answered rather grimly, then remained silent for a time.

Sensitive to her pain Rebecca changed the subject. “I have to say I’ll be relieved when the match ends,” she confessed with a wry laugh—Brod’s team had scored another goal. “I can’t really enjoy it with my heart in my throat.”

“You’re a tender little thing.” Fee moved to pat her hand. “Though at this level I agree it’s pretty lethal and Stewart and Brod are going at it hammer and tongs. Half-time coming up. Ten minutes usually. Stewart is bound to want to know if you’re enjoying yourself. If I were you, my dear, I’d tell him you’re finding it all terribly exciting.”

“But I am.” Rebecca twisted to smile at Fee, marvelling as ever at her glamorous appearance. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Ah, look at Brod,” Fee broke in gleefully. “Isn’t he luv-er-ly,” she cried, Eliza Doolittle style. He was indeed. On the other side of the field Broderick Kinross was stripping off his polo shirt to exchange it for another. His jet-black hair, thick and waving, gleamed in the sunlight with a matt of dark hair spreading across his darkly tanned chest then narrowing down to his close fitting jodhpurs.

He was an incredibly handsome man. So much so Rebecca felt a sudden uprush of desire that alarmed her. Not that he was flaunting his splendid body or paying any attention to the heated glances of the female spectators enjoying the spectacle from around the field. He was too busy sharing a joke with his friend, Rafe Cameron.

Rebecca wished for a moment she had a camera. She’d like to photograph these two magnificent young men together. Of a height, wonderfully fit, perfect foils. Brod for all his brilliant blue eyes was dark, deeply tanned by the sun whereas his friend had a thick mane of pure gold hair that was quite stunning. The other brother, Grant, busy chatting up a pretty girl, shared the family fairness, but his hair was more tawny with a touch of red. Both she had remarked when introduced had hazel-gold flecked eyes.

“Quite something aren’t they?” Fee hooted, following Rebecca’s gaze. “A pride of lions only Brod is the panther among them.”

“They’re all very handsome,” Rebecca agreed. “I’m surprised they’re not all married.”

Fee shook her beautifully coiffured head. As dark as Rebecca’s until her fifties she was now close to blond. “But surely you know?”

“Know what?” Rebecca stared directly at her. More revelations?

“I thought Stewart might have mentioned it,” Fee said. He certainly spent enough time chatting to Rebecca. “At one time we all hoped Rafe and Alison would tie the knot. They were very much in love but somehow Alison got cold feet. Product of a broken home perhaps. She ran off to Sydney much as I ran off to London, though I left no great love behind.

“As we know she’s become highly successful. So life goes on. Wild horses wouldn’t get it out of him but I believe Rafe was devastated. At any rate he won’t allow Alison back into his life.

“As for Brod. He’s a hot favourite. Always has been. But Brod will make darn sure he picks the right woman. Grant is a couple of years younger than both of them. He’s been working terribly hard establishing his helicopter business. All three are big catches for the girls.”

“I’ll bet!” Rebecca smiled. “Stewart did tell me a little about Alison’s broken romance.”

“So are you interested?” Fee pulled herself up to capture Rebecca’s luminous gaze.

“My career is important to me, Fee,” Rebecca answered lightly.

“A woman can’t do without love in her life.”

“So I’m learning from your biography,” Rebecca quipped instantly.

“Cheeky.” Fee smacked at Rebecca’s slender arm playfully. “Don’t leave it too late, darling. That’s all.” She spread a beringed hand. “Here comes Stewart. He doesn’t look quite as enthusiastic as he did at the start of the match.”

“Brod didn’t exactly give him any quarter,” Rebecca pointed out dryly.

“Each man for himself on the polo field, my chick,” Fee drawled in her distinctive voice, which still had so much sex appeal in it. “How’s it going, Stewie?” she called a little tauntingly, entirely on her nephew’s side.

Stewart Kinross studied his sister rather stonily for a moment then said with slight indignance. “We’re doing fairly well. Anything can happen in the second half.” He switched his glance to Rebecca, dressed like Fee in a silk shirt and narrow cut linen pants only her outfit was pristine white whereas Fee was a kaleidoscope of colours and patterns with a lot of glitter he didn’t find attractive. “You’re loving it aren’t you, Rebecca.” He smiled at her, a remarkably handsome, mature man.

“I’m a little worried for you, Stewart,” Rebecca admitted truthfully. “It’s a dangerous game.”

As a response it was a disaster. “I like to think I keep up, my dear,” he answered, looking a bit huffed.

“Oh, Stewart, you do know what I mean,” Rebecca protested softly.

He looked deep into her eyes seeing God knows what. “That’s fine then, my dear. It’s Brod who’s putting himself at risk. Maybe you could tell him to his face.” He looked back towards the field. “Though I must have done something right…I taught him all he knows. Sometimes I wish I hadn’t. Ah well.” He glanced back to smile at Rebecca. “I must be off. Time’s up.”

Rebecca realised she shouldn’t say, “Take care.” Instead she gave a little encouraging wave while Fee, enjoying every moment, bit back a laugh. “Darling, were you really suggesting Stewie is over the hill?”

A soft little cushion was to hand. Rebecca used it.

“Hey, hey.” Fee leaned forward and caught it. “Stewie doesn’t like to think he’s settling into the twilight zone. For that matter neither do I.”

In the end Brod’s team won and Rebecca watched as a tall, good-looking blonde in skin-tight jeans and a blue T-shirt that showed off her shapely breasts, went up to him, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him with much relish.

“Liz Carrol,” Fee said with a grin. “She likes him. Can’t you tell? Then again, why hide it?”

“Is she his girlfriend?” Rebecca found herself asking, though she hadn’t intended to.