Trial by Marriage

CHAPTER ONE

‘HOW do you do, Ms Sutherland? Sit down, please.’

Sarah Sutherland hesitated briefly and blinked a couple of times. She’d just been introduced to Cliff Wyatt and found the experience a little breathtaking. So she sat in front of the old oak desk, unable to think of anything to say, and waited for him to continue.

He did, after a slight pause, during which she felt as if every detail of her person had been thoroughly scrutinised. He said, directing his gaze back to her rather delicate oval face dominated by a pair of horn- rimmed spectacles, ‘As you know I’ve taken over Edgeleigh Station and, as you’ve probably divined, a few changes will need to be made. A combination of drought, low beef prices, old-fashioned methods and so on have seen the property run at a loss lately so some economies are required. Therefore, can you give me three good reasons for keeping you on?’

Sarah stared at Cliff Wyatt with widening eyes—he was not sitting as she was now but resting his tall frame negligently against a window-frame behind his chair and he was probably, she thought, still a bit dazedly, the best-looking man she’d seen for years. He had thick, dark hair, dark eyes, good-looking features with a faintly olive skin, a well-cut mouth and the kind of physique that would have done an athlete proud— very wide shoulders, narrow hips, long legs and he had to be at least six feet six.

And second impressions, she realised, reinforced his good looks, because there was an aura about him, in his impeccable yellow Lacoste shirt and beautifully tailored khaki trousers, of raw power combined with sophistication, the aura of a man you would be foolish to tangle with, of intellect, of charm if you were lucky, scorn if you weren’t. And there was little charm being directed at her at present, she decided. Rather a businesslike and indifferent manner, as indeed his question had conveyed.

She sat up straighter, remembering that question. ‘I can give you a dozen good reasons, Mr Wyatt,’ she said tartly, ‘plus another recurring dozen or so, but, if you can’t see the advantage of having a proper school and a resident teacher on a property this size and this remote, I could be wasting my time.’

He raised an eyebrow and murmured, "Spoken like a true school-marm. Well—he pulled out the chair and sat down himself ‘—let’s proceed on your as- sumption that I’m dense and a Philistine. In other words, do enlighten me. But I would just like to state that I’m all for education and my question was not based on an indifference to good schooling.’ He picked up a pen, dangled it between his long fingers and re- garded her with a sort of pensive arrogance that caused her some more annoyance.

So she said thoughtfully, "I read somewhere that it’s a grave insult to the Philistines to regard them as ignorant, uncultured and unartistic but, since you brought it up in that context and as applied to yourself, all right. The School of the Air does a won- derful job but it’s an alternative when the proper fa- cilities are not available. In this case, the facilities are already here, thanks to the care and consideration of the previous owners.’ She shot him an ironic little look from behind her horn-rimmed glasses and went on evenly, ‘I can also guarantee that all of my pupils have benefited from my personal tuition, and, if you don’t believe me, check with their parents. Of course…’ she paused and regarded Cliff Wyatt steadily ‘… if you can’t afford me, that’s another matter.’

The expression in Cliff Wyatt’s fine dark eyes didn’t change as he said musingly, ‘You’re handy with, your tongue, I see, Ms Sutherland. I always did believe school-marms were born and not made. Why…’ he paused and looked her over consideringly again, taking in her plain white cotton shirt, her jeans and boots, her lack of make-up and any sort of artifice, her glasses, her long chestnut hair worn with a fringe and tied back with a rubber band ‘… you even look like the kind of spinster that is born so admirably to the vocation. You are, I gather, a confirmed spinster?’ he added, looking fleetingly down at the papers in front of him, and continued before she could speak, ‘Ah, yes, twenty-six and unmarried, never married and never likely to be, perhaps. No, it doesn’t say that here; it’s just my intuition,’ he said gently as her mouth fell open. ‘But you wouldn’t be a bad-looking girl if you took some trouble, you know. A bit thin, a bit intense maybe—the two do often go together— but nice skin and hair and—’He stopped unhur- riedly as Sarah rose and slammed a fist on to the desk so that all his papers jumped.

Nor did he look at all perturbed as she said through her teeth, ‘How dare you? I should like nothing better than to—punch you in the mouth!’

He smiled for the first time. ‘Now that would be interesting but perhaps a little unequal. For one thing, I don’t know about picking you up with one hand but I certainly could with two so I really think we’d be better off to continue trading insults rather than blows. Do you—’he looked at her quizzically ‘—make a habit of going around offering to beat people up?’

Sarah drew a deep, shaky breath and sat down rather suddenly, as it occurred to her to wonder whether she’d gone mad. ‘No,’ she said curtly, and breathed deeply again. ‘No,’ she said again, more col- lectedly although she was still angry, ‘but I must confess that I’ve never been insulted quite like this before—do you make a habit of going around of- fering verbal abuse to all and sundry in this manner, Mr Wyatt?’

‘Not usually,’ he replied with a sudden grin and lay back in his chair. ‘I do believe the first shot in this little war was yours, however.’

‘I hesitate to contradict you,’ Sarah retorted, ‘but you immediately put me on the defensive by implying that there might be no good reason to keep the school going and then uttering offensive remarks about school-marms!’

‘That’s all?’ he murmured, but as she opened her mouth and closed it immediately he went on with only a wicked little glint in his eye, ‘As to good reasons or otherwise, may I make a couple of points? There will be no school even to argue about if Edgeleigh goes broke, so I can’t afford too many philanthropic ges- tures and I need to make some rapid decisions as the new owner and employer.’ He smiled faintly. ‘As an employer it’s handy to get to the heart of things as swiftly as possible and that’s often done best in a direct, no-nonsense manner. But now that I’ve met you, Miss Sutherland, and incidentally been told by at least three pairs of parents that you’re an excellent teacher and they don’t know what they’d do without you, as well as having seen your—impassioned stance on the subject, you may stay. For the time being.’

‘Did you… did you,’ Sarah tried again, "try to un- settle, not to mention antagonise, all your other em- ployees in your capacity as a direct, no-nonsense employer this morning, Mr Wyatt? Or was it only me?’

‘Now why should you imagine I would single you out for special treatment, Miss Sutherland?’ he countered.

‘Because of an innate aversion to spinsters such as only aggressively, unpleasantly macho men can have?’ Sarah suggested with withering scorn.

‘Dear me.’ Cliff Wyatt sat up and looked at her with lazy amusement. ‘I perceive some interesting times ahead of us, Miss Sutherland. It would be funny if we discovered we weren’t at cross purposes at all, wouldn’t it?’

‘I have no idea what you mean.’

‘I wonder?’ He shrugged. ‘In the meantime perhaps I should confine myself to running the place and you to your school. That way we might manage to…limit this conflict before it gets out of hand. I take it you are going to stay?’ He looked at her quizzically again.

Sarah bit her lip and tried to stop herself but rarely had her emotions been so turbulent and she heard herself say caustically, ‘I guess so but I shall certainly do all in my power to stay out of your way.’

‘Good.’ He stood up. ‘You’ll have two new pupils, incidentally.’

‘Oh?’

‘My sister’s children. She’ll be living here with me for the time being. She and her husband have split up. They’re six and seven. Would you care to be in- troduced now or would you like time to calm down and wrest your thoughts from the frustrations of ag- gressively, unpleasantly macho men?’

Sarah’s lips parted and her eyes sparked danger- ously behind her glasses but as she opened her mouth to speak the door flew open and four people entered the study.

‘Well, that takes care of that,’ Cliff Wyatt mur- mured. ‘Miss Sutherland, may I introduce you to my sister Amy, my niece and nephew, Sally and Ben, and Wendy Wilson? Amy, this is… Sarah, I believe, Sutherland, the schoolteacher.’

The next few minutes were confused but Sarah was conscious of several overriding impressions—that Amy Weston and Wendy Wilson, who was apparently her best friend, were both glossy, beautifully groomed and clothed girls who couldn’t have looked more out of place on a cattle station if they’d tried in their de- signer gear, with their long, painted nails, flimsy sandals and expertly applied make-up. They were also striking contrasts, with Amy being a delicate honey- blonde, about five feet two, while Wendy was dark, taller with a stunning figure and beautiful yet curi- ously worldly green eyes.

Sally and Ben were both fair and blue-eyed like their mother, but, whereas Sally hung back shyly, Ben caused Sarah to smile inwardly as she recognised all the signs of an energetic, dare-devil, naughty-as-they- come little boy.

And once the rather confused greetings had taken place Amy said, ‘Well, thank heavens there’s a school, but honestly, Cliff, this place is unbelievable! The house is archaic and there are workmen everywhere, and it’s so…’ She gestured helplessly. ‘It’s… We might as well be stuck out beyond the black stump! I didn’t realise it was this far away, and this bush,’ she said intensely.

‘But I warned you, Amy,’ Cliff Wyatt said im- patiently. ‘Although the house will be finished shortly and there are all sorts of mod cons going in. Besides which you have a housekeeper so you won’t really have to lift a finger, little though you’re capable of it,’ he said drily, and added, ‘Tell me this, would you rather have stayed, perhaps languished is a better word, alone in Brisbane since you tell me you have no intention of going back to Coorilla?’

Amy disregarded the insults entirely and looked wistful. ‘At least I could go shopping in Brisbane. And I’ve just met the housekeeper, Cliff,’ she added with more spirit. ‘She… well, I’m lost for words!’

Wendy Wilson stirred. ‘She’s probably got a heart of gold underneath that mountainous frame and peculiar—er—manner,’ she suggested in a husky, oddly sexy voice.

‘She has,’ Sarah said.

All eyes switched to her and it interested Sarah to note that it was Wendy, not Amy, who drawled, ‘You could probably help us out a bit, Miss Sutherland. As you see we rather feel like fish out of water at the moment. Would you mind… helping us to find our feet among the locals a bit?’

‘Not at all,’ Sarah said although she knew that most of the locals would view both girls with the utmost suspicion, possibly for a good long time. She also started to feel annoyed again because the other girl was assessing her quite openly and contriving to make her feel aware that she was neither groomed nor glossy as well as very much an employee.

‘Then that’s settled,’ Cliff Wyatt said firmly. ‘Take ‘em away if you wouldn’t mind, Miss Sutherland; I have enough to do as it is. Oh, I’d like to check the schoolhouse out, though, and all the facilities you’re so proud of… uh, say around four this afternoon? I’ll meet you there.’ And he turned away and picked up the phone.

‘Cliff can be impossible at times,’ Amy said disconsolately.

They were in the huge homestead kitchen where Sarah had led them. Edgeleigh homestead was a rather lovely if dilapidated example of Queensland colonial architecture, with spacious, high-ceilinged rooms, deep verandas running around it and a steep green roof. Because she’d become friends with the previous owners, Sarah knew the house well and she was re- lieved to see that the mod cons Cliff Wyatt had men- tioned applied only to bathrooms and the kitchen and that the rest of the house was being restored to its former glory, with fresh paint and repairs being made in character with the style of the period.

‘Cliff is in the position of being able to do as he likes,’ Wendy Wilson said a shade drily. ‘And you have to admit you’d have been miserable on your own in Brisbane, darling.’

‘I suppose so.’ Tears sparkled momentarily on Amy’s lashes then she sniffed resolutely. ‘Are you sure you can only stay for a week, though, Wendy? This place—’ she looked around ‘—well, I’ve got the feeling it’s going to defeat me.’

‘I like it!’ Ben pronounced.

Wendy looked around thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps I can squeeze in another week. Well, Miss Sutherland, the housekeeper who gave Amy such a fright appears to have gone walkabout.’

‘Do call me Sarah,’ Sarah murmured. ‘Mrs Tibbs will have gone to collect the milk; she always does at this time. Would you like to come and see the schoolhouse?’

‘I don’t want to start school today!’ Ben declared.

‘Oh, there’s no chance of that,’ Sarah replied. ‘It’s Saturday.’

Several hours later Sarah sat on the front steps of her very basic wooden cottage that adjoined the school- house and watched the Land Rover, with Wendy Wilson at the wheel, drive away. She’d not only given Wendy, Amy and co. a tour of the schoolhouse but had borrowed one of the property vehicles so that she could introduce them to the wives and show them the mustering yards, the horse paddocks, the machinery shed and so on. Whether it had been a success, whether she had accomplished what Cliff Wyatt had expected her to was debatable.

There were ten men employed permanently on Edgeleigh, four of them with wives who between them provided her twelve regular pupils, and