The Australian Heiress Page 9

  “It involved a lot of hard work,” Camille said with feeling. “I have my doubts and insecurities like everyone else—you know that better than anyone. Anyway, there isn’t a female alive who could come up to Madelaine Carghill’s standards for the wife of her only son.”

  “What about Fiona Duncan?”

  Camille looked at her friend aghast. “Nonsense, Lindy! You’re being a bit paranoid, aren’t you?”

  “I guess. Silly me.”

  Camille turned in her chair to stare at her friend. At the best of times Linda had an air of fragility about her, but now she looked like a young woman in crisis. “Stephen married you, not Fiona,” she said firmly. “I really thought you knew that.”

  “I do.”

  “Then it should take the terror out of Fiona Duncan.”

  “Except that Stephen’s mother and sisters rate her as perfect.”

  “Not on your life! They don’t rate anyone as perfect except themselves. My advice is, see a lot less of them. Especially now.”

  “That’d be difficult.” Linda sighed. “I married into a really tightly knit family. I knew that at the beginning, but I never realized I was going to be in constant competition for my husband’s love. All three of them are jealous of me. Isn’t that a joke?”

  “Nope, it’s bizarre. Anyway, it’s early days, Lindy. They have to learn how to let go.”

  “Sometimes I think they’ll never accept me. I’m like some kind of alien in their midst. My father-inlaw is my ally, though. He was the only one to truly welcome me into the family.”

  “The baby will change all that, I’m sure.” Camille felt angry on her friend’s account. It was difficult to argue with Linda’s stark assessment of the situation. Camille had seen the Carghill women in action. For all their surface togetherness, they never managed to fool anyone. Perhaps they didn’t intend to. Linda was the outsider. And it was true Stephen had been seriously involved with Fiona Duncan, his younger sister’s closest friend, until Linda had come on the scene.

  Linda’s voice was quiet and sad. “Oh, I hope so, Milly. I’ve been having all sorts of weird dreams lately.”

  “Like what?” Camille studied her friend’s small face.

  “Oh, I can’t recall them exactly. But I wake up feeling…afraid. I can hardly put a name to it. I feel as though all the zest has gone out of my life. The bubble’s burst.”

  “That’s dreadful, Lindy.” Camille put out a consoling hand. “Your spirits are down further than I thought. I think it’s the stress of early pregnancy, though. So many changes happening inside your body…”

  “I don’t lead a truly happy life,” Linda said in a troubled voice.

  “Does anybody, love? We have to settle for what happiness we can get You love Stephen. You have a beautiful home, a lovely garden. Both of which you created. And you’re thrilled about the baby.”

  Linda sighed in unexaggerated weariness. “It’s a paradoxical reaction, I know. I’ve always had difficulty handling my feelings.”

  “Perhaps you didn’t give yourself enough time,” Camille suggested gently.

  “I thought I’d lose Stephen if I didn’t agree to everything he said. A short engagement. Start a baby. Fiona is still hovering in the wings. We see her frequently. She’s connected. Marriages don’t last forever anymore. Look at Jill Shields,” she said, referring to a mutual friend. “Her marriage to David lasted exactly eighteen months. We saw them at the wedding. They seemed divinely happy.”

  “Lindy, you’re just feeling low.” Camille was becoming more and more concerned.

  “I never had much self-esteem. In fact, I still get confused about my place in the world. Dad and Mother dote on each other. Always have. They love me, but I don’t fool myself I was ever the center of their world.”

  “So you think all this current ambivalence might have zomzinck to do with your childhood, Frau Carghill?”

  But even Camille’s pseudo-Freudian accent didn’t jolly her friend out of her low spirits. “It was nowhere as grim as yours, but you have to admit we were two very lonely little girls. I don’t know what I would have done without you, Milly. You were always my rock, always there for me. A loving friend.”

  Camille reached out and gave Linda a hug. “You’re feeling especially vulnerable right now. Blame it on a massive surge of hormones. Why don’t you bring forward your appointment with Dr. Bourke? Explain to him how you feel. He may be able to give you something.”

  “The fewer drugs you take during pregnancy the better. Besides, I can’t open my heart to Dr. Bourke as I can with you. He’s much too busy, in any case.”

  “Damn, he’s not that busy,” Camille protested. “You’re his patient. Speak to him. Speak to Stephen.”

  “I can pretty well gauge Stephen’s reactions on a daily basis,” Linda said in an odd tone. “Once I used to think everything would be right if Stephen was beside me. It hasn’t quite worked out that way. He’s not like the rest of his family—he’s kind and supportive, he cherishes me—but underneath I can detect the same impatience. I’m making a big deal of what should be a piece of cake. What came so easily for the women of his family, I have to struggle with.”

  “Does that make you less of a woman? You’re too hard on yourself, Lindy.”

  “I’ve got to get through this.” Linda gritted her teeth. “I want this baby. I love her. I talk to her all the time. My little girl. I know it’s a girl. I don’t need to find out. Stephen is disappointed in me. It’s all this sickness. It must be very offputting for a man.”

  “Lindy, you’re not being fair to Stephen,” Camille said in a firm voice. “It’s your mother-in-law who spends so much time trying to make you think you’re some kind of failure. It’s her problem. Not Stephen’s. Not yours.”

  “I do everything expected of me.”

  “Of course you do. I think you should start considering falling in love with yourself. Why don’t you tell Mrs. Carghill how you feel? Even she wouldn’t risk losing her own grandchild.”

  “I couldn’t take the chance,” Linda said in a defeated tone. “Too stressful for me. Besides, she’d act totally disbelieving, as though the very last thing she would ever want is to upset me.”

  “Well, she can stop calling you a frail little thing for a start.”

  Linda shook her head. “They’d have accepted Fiona, you know. She’s one of them. I’m sure they think it’s awful I’m so short. They’re all so tall.” Linda gave a humorless laugh.

  “I repeat,” Camille said, “see a whole lot less of them.”

  “I can’t, Milly. Stephen’s relying on me to work things out.”

  “What’s the big deal with Madelaine Carghill, anyway? You’ve got a tongue when you want. When she starts the subtle demeaning, standing up for yourself. And keep in mind she’s not terribly well liked, whereas you are. You can even pity her a little. She doesn’t know when to let go. You’re numero uno in Stephen’s life. And if your intuition is right, he’ll have another little lady to love.”

  “Sarah Camille Carghill.” Linda turned to Camille with a tremulous sigh. “Of course you’re godmother.”

  “I should jolly well hope so.” Camille stood up and drew Linda to her feet. “Now I’m going to get Tommy to drive you home. I’ll follow in your car.”

  “Heavens, you don’t need to do that!” Linda looked flustered but relieved.

  “It’s not your decision, my girl. And when you get home, put your feet up and relax. I can’t bear to see you with that wounded look. Chat to Sarah. Focus on all the good things in your life. Being pregnant can be beautiful, as well as terrifying. Accept that.”

  “I love you, Milly,” Linda said quietly, squeezing Camille’s hand.

  AT TWO IN THE MORNING the phone shrilled, bringing Camille out of a deep troubled sleep.

  “Lord!” she groaned, trying to calm her hammering heart. She made a grab for the phone, in her disoriented state almost knocking it to the floor. “Hello?”

  “Camille?�
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  Her head cleared in an instant. She sat up straight, feeling the first wave of apprehension. “Stephen, what’s wrong?”

  The normally cool unflappable Stephen sounded anything but. “It’s Lindy. She’s cramping. She’s frightened. So am I. She thinks she might lose the baby.”

  His answer galvanized Camille. She kicked furiously at the sheet that refused to release her. “Call the ambulance.”

  “I already have. She wants you.”

  “Tell her I’m on my way.” Camille was free at last and on her feet

  “Bless you, Milly,” Stephen said. “I feel so damned inadequate. I don’t have a clue what to do.”

  “Stay calm. I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

  SO BEGAN A LONG terrible night. In the end Linda lost her baby.

  Stephen and Camille sat huddled in the waiting room almost incapable of speech. At some point Stephen’s mother and father arrived—Linda’s parents were in Europe, traveling—so the four of them received the sad news from a tired and strained Dr. Bourke.

  “Lord, this is a sad business! I’m so sorry.” He put his arm around Stephen’s shoulder. “But Linda is young and healthy. There’ll be other children. Take comfort in that.”

  “How can I find comfort in that?” Stephen said passionately when the doctor had gone. “We’ve just lost our first child. Nothing can change that. Lindy will be devastated. She wanted this baby so much.”

  His mother reached over and touched his cheek. “How I hate to see you suffer, darling. You must look on this miscarriage as nature just doing its job. Something was obviously wrong.”

  “Please, Mom, I don’t want to hear that now,” Stephen moaned.

  “He’s right, Madelaine,” Peter Carghill murmured in distress. “I thought little Linda was looking strained. Too many demands placed on her, I expect.”

  “Whatever do you mean?” Madelaine gave an astonished frown. “No demands were made on Linda that she didn’t make herself. I know it’s not the time for pointing out these things, but from the onset of the pregnancy she really didn’t look after herself.”

  It was too much for Camille. “That’s simply not true, Mrs. Carghill. Linda was doing everything right.”

  “My dear—” Madelaine Carghill gave Camille an arctic smile “—it was impossible for you to follow Linda’s every move. I was appalled at how much gardening she was doing. I once caught her lifting a heavy terra-cotta pot. I told her at the time she shouldn’t do things like that. But she’s very willful, for all her sweet nature. I often think it’s her way of asserting herself. She’s driven to ignore everything I say on principle.”

  It was really amazing the way the woman could turn the tables, Camille thought, unwilling to proceed further.

  “There’s no use talking about any of this now,” Stephen said, head in hands. “I suppose she did do a lot of work in the garden.”

  “Dr. Bourke approved of it, Stephen,” Camille said. “I find it very hard to believe Linda lifted any heavy pot.”

  “My dear, are you calling me a liar?” Color flooded Madelaine Carghill’s handsome face. Her pale gray eyes looked like chips of ice.

  “On this particular occasion I believe you were mistaken,” Camille said, keeping her voice even. “If Linda heard you say that, she’d be desperately hurt.”

  “You’d be the only person to tell her,” Madelaine Carghill retorted. She rose to her feet. “I really can’t listen to any more of this. You exceed your place, Camille.”

  Camille stared back unwaveringly. “Perhaps I do. For Linda. She’s my friend.”

  “Then you might seek to protect her from herself.” Madelaine Carghill delivered the warning sharply, clearly outraged to have been challenged. “I’ve done everything in my power to help her, but she continues to shut me out.” She turned to her husband. “I don’t think there’s anything more we can do here. Peter, I want to go home.”

  Surprisingly Peter Carghill shook his narrow patrician head. “I’d like to see Lindy for a moment, if I could.”

  “They won’t allow you,” his wife answered, abandoning herself to outright anger. “Only Stephen will be allowed to see her. Not family. Not close friends.” This with a glare in Camille’s direction. Then she marched off, husband in tow.

  “Oh, hell, Milly, did you have to say that?” Stephen followed his parents’ departure with tortured eyes.

  “I had to say something, Stephen. You must be aware your mother gives Lindy a bad time.”

  “What utter rubbish!” Stephen exploded. “It’s more a matter of personalities. It’s not intentional. God, no. Mom has such certainty, so of course, she would threaten someone like Lindy. Lindy has all kinds of virtues, but even you wouldn’t call her a shining example of self-confidence. I put it down to her rotten childhood. She’s never had any sense of truly belonging. Not the way I do. I’ve had a loving family around me all my life. Lindy once told me she felt there were only two people in the world who cared about her. You and me.”

  His voice trailed off and the tears came into his eyes. “This is going to kill her, you know. She’s going to see herself as an utter failure.”

  Camille couldn’t help but share his fears. “Yes, it is going to be a painful time, but we’re here to give her all our support.”

  “She hasn’t been herself for quite a while,” Stephen said with soft vehemence. “I assumed it was all the changes going on in her body, but I think it’s more serious than that. She’s so sad inside.” Stephen’s healthy color was completely gone. “She’s not very good at telling me how she feels, either. It’s more important to her to act like she’s in control. It makes no real sense. I love her—as does everyone I know. Mom might have sounded angry tonight, but she’s done everything in her power to draw Lindy into the family circle. At the same time Lindy resists. I know she has you.”

  He smiled faintly. “You might as well be her sister—the two of you are inseparable. I know Ann and Susan feel excluded. It’s been a kind of a problem in its way, and it could have affected Lindy’s health. Certainly her moods. Yesterday, particularly, she seemed to be in a slump. I suppose it figures she’d miscarry.”

  Camille felt a flare of anger. He seemed to see Linda’s miscarriage as something she brought on herself, with her, Camille, playing a pivotal role! “Some time I’d like to talk to you about this, Stephen. I know you’re calling it as you see it, but you mightn’t have the situation entirely right.”

  “I am her husband,” Stephen said, showing some of his mother’s coldness. “Lindy is different from when I married her. Instead of blossoming as I hoped, she’s withdrawn, been on the defensive. She’s even jealous of Fiona—she may have spoken to you about it.”

  “Well, you were involved with Fiona before Linda,” Camille said, trying to control her hostility.

  Stephen returned in a brittle voice, “And I’d still like to call Fiona a friend—after all, I’ve known her my whole life—but that’s out of the question. What I felt for Fiona and what I feel with Lindy are entirely different. Lindy is my wife. I loved her from the moment I laid eyes on her. I love her more now. She’s a special person. When she’s well, she’s a magical creature. She’s wonderful to make love to. She’s a great homemaker. It’s just that—oh, God, I don’t know how to put this—I feel she questions my every relationship. Underneath her sparkle she’s terribly insecure.”

  Camille didn’t enjoy hearing all this about her friend. Who was without flaw, anyway? “Well, she’s going to need us now,” she said firmly. “Losing the baby will be rough on her.”

  “I wanted it, too, Milly,” Stephen said, a hint of resentment in his voice.

  “I know, I know. My heart aches for you, but we both realize Lindy is more vulnerable than most. She was never a child to have been sent away to boarding school at age six. She was a child to be cherished with loving parents.”

  “The same thing happened to you,” Stephen reminded her.

  “And it’s had its effects.
”

  “Obviously Lindy isn’t as strong as you,” he said. “You had a profoundly unhappy relationship with your father, yet you’ve come out a real fighter. You must have inherited some of his toughness. Whatever happens to you, Camille, you’re going to survive.”

  “Well, be that as it may, it’s not easy for a woman to lose a child. I see it as a terrible crisis.”

  “But Lindy was only three months along. Surely she shouldn’t grieve as much as a woman losing a baby that had come close to term.”

  “I don’t think Lindy’s going to see it that way.” Camille clamped her hands together, feeling sadly disappointed in Stephen’s reaction.

  It seemed a long time later before they were able to see Linda. Stephen first, then Camille, were allowed into the room for a short time.

  “It’s over, isn’t it?” Linda said weakly, fixing her gaze on Camille.

  While Stephen buried his head against his wife’s side, Camille took her friend’s hand, registering her deep, feeling in her grip. “Yes, it is, Lindy. I’m so sorry.” How inadequate that sounded.

  “I can’t manage anything, can I?” Linda said in a voice as wispy as a child’s. In fact, without makeup and so slight she looked about fourteen.

  Hurting for her friend, Camille briefly closed her eyes. “Never that, Lindy. Things were starting to go wrong, Dr. Bourke told us. It was just one of those sad things that happens in life. It was never your fault.”

  “I’m sorry. I think it was.” Linda turned her face to the wall, with a low keening that was to haunt Camille for a long time to come.

  TWO DAYS LATER Linda was released from hospital. Because Stephen was obliged to be in court, Camille drove Linda home. Her friend was very quiet, very subdued.

  “I’ve never felt so much pain,” she confided. “It’s not in my body now. It’s in my head.”

  “You’re mourning, Lindy. You have the right. But you mustn’t keep accusing yourself, talking of failure.”

  “But I feel so worthless.” A little vein pulsed in Linda’s temple.