Dear Plutocrat Read online

  Nodding, and deliberately avoiding Cherry's eyes, Kate accepted the binoculars. Even from this distance the elegance and beauty of the girl could be discerned. Without doubt she belonged to that smart set which Cherry had previously mentioned. Mark was laughing, probably at something the girl had said. Kate frowned, hesitating. But Cherry would have to be invited to take a look through the binoculars and Kate handed them to her.

  A small silence ensued while Cherry focused.

  'She looks charming,' came the quiet comment at last. Handing back the binoculars, Cherry picked up the basket of eggs from beside her and went into the house.

  Kate watched her go, her frown deepening. Cherry and Mark had had several conversations together during the past month; that much Kate knew, because it was Cherry who came in with the news that High Creek Downs had its own school and shop, that there were modern bungalows for the stockmen and their families. Mark had told her, Cherry said. She had been out walking one evening and he had stopped his utility and offered her a lift. On another occasion Cherry was able to inform Kate and Lin that another vast cattle station existed away beyond the bush tracks which the girls had traversed on their way to High Creek. This was called Walden Downs and belonged to James Randall, a friend of Mark's. He had a small daughter, Emma, whose birth had cost her mother her life. James had been a widower for four years, Cherry said, and he had never even looked at another woman in all that time.

  'I happened to see Mr. Copeland when I was going to fetch the cow in for milking,' Cherry had replied when asked by Lin how she came by this latest information about the other cattle station and its owner. Finally, Cherry was able to tell her friends that Mark and Paul each possessed their own aeroplanes, in which they flew over their lands, or went for visits to the coast.

  On the day of the shed dance the girls, rising to the familiar strains of the magpies in the gum trees following the river course, were naturally in a state of mild excitement. With them they had their more formal dresses, believing they would, as Lin had so optimistically declared, be mixing with the elite—the wealthy graziers of the Outback. Here now was the opportunity of dressing up after all the work they had been doing both inside and outside the house. All the while they had been in overalls which they had purchased on their first visit to Woomgera, the nearest town which was a mere sixty-five miles away. The jobs had been grimy to say the least and hair and hands had suffered. So the work stopped for the whole day, which was spent in hair-washing and setting, in creaming hands and manicuring fingernails. Lin pressed her dress while Kate set Cherry's hair; this method was followed twice more. Cherry cooked the midday meal while the others sat outside, using the sun as a hairdrier. Later, they washed the dishes while Cherry dried her hair.

  'Living it up at last!' Lin pirouetted round before the long mirror with its two great cracks from which the dust had not yet been removed. 'I don't know when I've so looked forward to anything! Know what?' she demanded of the other two. 'You only appreciate the good things of life when you've had to do without them.'

  'Very true,' agreed Kate. 'We took everything for granted at home. We could go to a dance just whenever we liked, so in consequence we got no pleasure from the anticipation of it.'

  True to his word Paul sent the station wagon for them. They all sat in the back, which was comfortably heated. The driver, a slow-spoken station hand from Cunya River Downs, stared at each girl in turn, curious and amused.

  'I wonder what's been said about us all over the place,' whispered Cherry as they were being driven along, through the terracotta track towards the small hillock behind which the homestead stood.

  'There'll have been gossip in plenty, you can be sure of that,' affirmed Kate, thinking of Mark Copeland and wondering if he and she would bury their antagonism for this brief interlude. He had called at the homestead soon after the incident of the broken fence. Kate was all alone, her two friends having gone down to the newly-dug strip of land to set some seeds. Mark had been coldly impersonal at first, telling her that he would not be responsible if his cattle strayed on to her land. Should this occur, he told her, what small amount of pasture she did have would disappear in a matter of minutes. This sort of talk naturally infuriated Kate and something very close to a quarrel ensued. In the end Kate had been hot and seething with rage, while to her chagrin the Boss of High Creek Downs had been maddeningly unperturbed. His blue eyes flicked her as she stood on the step, glaring at him as with a sort of easy animal grace he slid into the drive seat of the utility and drove away, leaving a cloud of dust behind him. However, his visit spurred her to make a good repair of the fence, since she could not afford to have his cattle on her land. But she considered him mean in the extreme not to have given instructions for one of his own men to do the work. After all, he had a man employed permanently on looking to the fences, and it would not have hurt him to include this little job in his work. It would have been a nice friendly gesture, such as Paul would instantly have made had he known of her great difficulty. But Mark Copeland would not be extending any friendly gestures, not with wanting the property for himself. The more difficult her position, the sooner Kate would be ready to sell. This would be his assumption and he would therefore continue to play his waiting game. Kate had mentioned his meanness to Cherry, who said that if Kate would only be a bit more affable towards him, Mark Copeland might in the end prove to be a good friend to them all.

  'Affable? To him? Not likely!' Had been Kate's prompt and emphatic reply, and Cherry had merely shrugged resignedly, obviously of the opinion that Kate's humiliating experience would remain in her memory for a long while to come.

  'I expect everyone is secretly laughing at us,' Lin was saying, but not with any marked degree of concern. 'Three stupid females coming out here, assuming they can make a living from their tiny portion of unyielding land.'

  'We are living,' Cherry reminded her, whereupon Kate just could not help saying:

  'We're alive, if that's what you mean. But I personally am beginning to feel like a rice pudding crossed with an omelette and a pancake.'

  'Never mind, Kate,' said Lin cheerfully. 'Forget your pancakes and puds for tonight. We'll be on mutton chops and barbecued chicken. And don't forget to eat until you can't stuff another mouthful, for heaven knows when we shall eat meat again.'

  The hill had been skirted while they were talking and the spreading glow from the Cunya River homestead flared like an oasis of light amid the lonely purple infinity of the bush.

  'Doesn't the place look lovely?' Unusual enthusiasm edged Cherry's voice as they drove towards the avenue of eucalypts which led to the front of the building. 'It's modern,' Cherry went on to explain. 'I expected it to be old like Mark's.'

  The station wagon skirted the side of the building and a second road was struck, along which they travelled towards a second lighted building outside which many cars and station wagons were parked. Music could be heard as the driver pulled up behind another vehicle.

  Paul came at once and it was clear that he had been waiting to receive them. He was dressed in light brown linen and a white shirt; his eyes went first of all to Kate and she flushed a little and looked down, shy because of the difference in her appearance from that to which he was used—overalls and dusty shirt and a band round her hair to keep it from falling over her face when she was scrubbing or painting or cleaning out the hen coop.

  'You all look stunning!' he exclaimed, allowing his eyes to wander at length from Kate to Lin and then to Cherry. 'Come on in and meet everybody.'

  Just as they expected there were amused looks accompanying the numerous handshakes. James Randall, big and rugged, with a good-humoured smiling countenance, was the only one whose expression held no satire. On the contrary, he was all admiration for their efforts, and he told them so. Kate's eyes strayed as he spoke; some small distance away stood Mark Copeland, his air of superiority accentuated by the immaculate cut of his grey worsted suit which fitted to perfection his tall spare frame. Whiteness gleamed aga
inst his sun-tanned throat, and from the corners of his deep-set eyes the tiny lines of paler skin fanned out in attractive contrast to the bronze around them. An equally attractive contrast was the lighter hair among the brown, swept back from a lined and noble forehead. His blue eyes met Kate's hazel ones in a level yet measuring glance. She flushed, memory flooding in to subject her once more to that humiliating experience which had occurred at their first meeting. Faintly his mouth twitched, just as if he were correctly reading her thoughts, and enjoying what this conveyed to him. She swallowed and, turning her back on him, joined in the conversation going on between her two friends and Paul and James.

  More introductions followed as late arrivals came into the massive barn, hung with lights and ringing with chatter and laughter and music from the tape-recorder. The three girls were never lacking in partners; they danced with the stockmen and with the guests, and received unemotionally the words of flattery spoken into their ears. James claimed Lin for several dances, and Mark danced twice with Cherry. But very noticeable was Mark's interest in Harriet Courtenay, the girl with whom he had been seen out riding. She wore a tight-fitting dress which, Lin asserted not without a touch of envy, had 'cost the earth'. It was in beige with a low neckline and flowing skirt which, swinging out as she turned, revealed her slender shapely thighs.

  'There's a rumour that the Boss and Harriet might possibly get together permanently,' one of the stockmen informed Kate as they danced. 'Nice pair, don't you think?'

  Kate nodded, merely because she felt it incumbent on her to do so. Secretly she decided that she disliked Harriet as much as she disliked Mark Copeland. Most certainly they were not a nice pair… but they were a suited pair. Arrogance and a sort of insolent bearing characterized them both. They were of the rich squatocracy who liked to forget that somewhere in their ancestry there might very well have been a convict—for in the old days it was to this inhospitable land that malefactors were so often deported.

  Kate had not expected Mark to invite her to dance with him and it came as a complete shock when, just before the interval, he strode across to her. So, as she had surmised, they were to drop their animosity for this brief interlude. She fell into step with him and silence reigned for a long moment before Mark drawled, in that deep and lazy tone:

  'You're enjoying the dance, Miss Beresford?' His manner, affable and holding a charm she found rather disturbing, brought a smile to Kate's lips and she injected a measure of friendliness into her tones as she said:

  'Very much, thank you, Mr. Copeland.' Her heart began to hammer uncontrollably against her ribs and she became acutely aware of his nearness and the touch of his fingers against her own.

  'You appear to have made a hit with my brother. He tells me he's arranging for you to have electricity.'

  'You don't mind?' The question came out unintended, for she had been troubled right from the start that Mark would suddenly decide that no more help was to be forthcoming from his brother.

  'It's nothing to do with me; Paul's his own master.'

  She glanced up swiftly. Her partner's face was a mask of impassivity.

  'He told us that Cunya River Downs belongs to you—that he merely manages it.' To her surprise his lips went tight, but no comment was forthcoming on her remark and they danced in silence for a while. 'Paul's been very good to us,' she murmured at last, unable to bear the atmosphere, which for her had suddenly become tensed, although she could not have said why.

  'So I believe. He was telling me about the calves he's offered you.'

  'We can't buy them,' she returned with candour, 'at least, not yet.'

  'Not yet?' with faint satire. 'You're expecting your position to improve?'

  Her chin went up.

  'I suppose you think we're foolish, trying to make High Creek pay?'

  'I don't think, I'm sure.' Carelessly he shrugged. 'However, it's your own business and I expect you'll carry on until your British obstinacy's run its full course.' No mistaking the deprecating note as he referred to her nationality, and she felt a tinge of anger rise.

  'As a matter of fact, Mr. Copeland, we are expecting to do very well with our farm. I am not completely without experience,' she was urged to say on noting his brows shoot up a fraction. But instantly she regretted her bravado as he inquired if she had lived on a farm in England.

  'It was a smallholding,' she admitted in a rather subdued voice.

  'Smallholding?' he repeated, mouth twitching. 'Of what acreage?'

  She bit her lip, furious with herself now for that impulsive statement.

  'It wasn't very large,' she replied, hoping to satisfy him, but he said again:

  'What was the acreage?'

  'Well…' She seemed compelled, by something beyond her control, to look up into his face. It was a study of amused perception and she hesitated for a space, half inclined to lie. But his eyes were piercing and she knew she could not tell an untruth while they were thus fixed so intently upon her. 'It—it was rather less than one acre—'

  'Less—!' His laugh could not be suppressed; Kate went crimson, but she at the same time caught sight of Harriet and her eyes widened in perplexity. The girl's expression was one of anger not unmingled with malice. Why should she look like that? Kate wondered, glad of her partner's sudden swing which took the other girl's face out of her vision. 'Less than one acre!' For an instant Mark stopped, held her arms in his hands and regarded her incredulously but with the laughter still reflected in his eyes. 'You actually assert that you've had experience? Miss Beresford, I'm surprised at you!'

  She stared. He still laughed with his eyes and once more that hammering was felt in the region of her heart. Without a doubt this man was attractive! He had just about everything: physique, personality, looks and confidence. Surely he must be most women's idea of perfection. If he weren't so pompous and plutocratic he certainly could be the most desirable specimen of, masculinity she herself had ever encountered. As it was, his brother had a good start on him, Kate decided, instinctively sending a glance around as she searched for Paul among this gay and carefree throng. He was dancing with Cherry, but both he and she were looking in Kate's direction, Cherry's eyes on Mark and Paul's on Kate. Kate smiled; Mark noticed and as he swung her into the dance again his own glance was directed at the other couple. He seemed about to make some remark, but at that moment the music stopped and a voice announced that it was time to go outside for refreshments. Smiling, Mark inclined his head in a gesture meant to convey thanks for the dance. Managing a thin smile in response, Kate moved away, to where Cherry and Lin were waiting for her to join them, which she did, and together they went out on to the area where the barbecued food was ready for them to eat.

  'Chicken!' exclaimed Lin as if she had never tasted such luxury before. 'I mean to stuff and stuff until I can't fit in a morsel more!' They sat down on a long seat and ate under the stars. Away in front, on its small hill, the homestead shone with light, while still further away the odd light could be seen from one of the bungalows whose occupants had for some reason not been able to attend the dance. It was a self-supporting community, as was High Creek Downs, well run by a highly efficient Boss and his employees. For a moment Kate dwelt on Mark's rather odd reaction to her remark about Paul's telling her and her friends that he was only the manager of Cunya River Downs. It had almost seemed that Mark did not like this idea in the least. A slight frown creased Kate's brow. There was something she did not understand, but as her friends were speaking she dismissed the matter and joined in their conversation. Lin was still on about the food, helping herself to sausages as she said, 'If only I'd thought to bring a few polythene bags we could have taken some of this home!'

  'Home?' from Kate and Cherry together, their eyes widening. 'Really, Lin!'

  'Why not? If we were men we'd eat three times as much, so our host's getting off lightly. I can't see what would be wrong in taking some of this lovely grub home.' She wasn't really serious and the other two began to laugh. 'I shall be thinking of
all this tomorrow when Cherry stands at the kitchen door, looking faintly apologetic as she asks whether we'd like fried, boiled or scrambled eggs, pancakes, Yorkshire pud or omelettes, and whether we'd like to finish off with rice pud or just a bowl of custard sauce.'

  This led to increased laughter and to Kate's reminding Lin that it was in fact her turn to be cook tomorrow, not Cherry's.

  'You're right, though,' she conceded with a rueful little sigh. 'We shall be thinking of all this. These little chunks of mutton are delicious.'

  'Glad you like the food.' At the amused voice the three heads turned, and colour mounted the girls' cheeks.

  'You—you didn't hear?' gasped Kate, fully aware that Paul had heard, but it was on his brother's face that her eyes had settled. Both men had come up behind them silently and had been there for several moments, judging by the amused expressions on their faces.

  'The whole,' drawled Mark, unsparing of Kate's feelings. 'So you're on the breadline already?' Lazy his glance as he noted the space at the end of the seat. Paul had already occupied the vacant place next to Kate and Mark sat down next to Cherry, who obligingly moved up a little towards Lin, who was seated in the middle.

  'We're not really as poor as all that,' from Cherry with a smile for Mark as she turned her fair head towards him. Kate also turned, noting the formidable outline of his profile, etched darkly against the glow from the fire. 'In fact, it's rather fun making do with what we have.'

  Mark was looking at Cherry, regarding her with an odd expression which set Kate's nerves on edge. The man was too dangerous by far; such attraction was one against which women should put up a guard, yet here was Cherry—the level-headed, prosaic Cherry—gazing wide-eyed at him, an unaccustomed flush bringing an added beauty to her face. Kate frowned and pity for her friend drove through her- If Cherry were to suffer hurt then she, Kate, would never forgive herself for coming out here, even though by their own admissions both Cherry and Lin had been responsible for her decision. Mark's lazy eyes flickered to Kate as he sensed her interest. In the firelight glow she saw his expression change to one of cool indifference as he allowed his glance, to wander from her face to her figure and back again. Kate looked down at her plate, balanced on her knee and containing two pieces of barbecued lamb. Tingling sensations swept through her, overriding her pity for her friend, and it was with a stunning shock that she realized she was shirking something, something vitally connected with Mark Copeland… something that should not have been there to shirk…