The Socialite and the Cattle King

The Socialite and the Cattle King by Lindsay Armstrong

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Authors: Lindsay Armstrong
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how I reacted,’ he said gravely. ‘Only I dropped the flowers as well.’
    ‘What did you do then?’ Holly was now laughing helplessly.
    ‘I was younger,’ he said reflectively. ‘What did I do? I suggested to her that maybe she was putting the cart before the horse.’
    ‘Oh no! What did she do?’
    ‘She said that if all she’d achieved was to bring to mind a cart horse—not what I’d meant at all—she was wasting her time, and she slammed the door in my face. Of course, I’ve often wondered whether it didn’t fall more into a “looking a gift horse in the mouth” scenario or “horses for courses”.’
    ‘Don’t go on!’ Holly held a hand to her side. ‘You’re making me laugh too much.’
    ‘The worst part about it is I often find myself undressing women with long, dangly earrings to this day—only mentally, of course.’
    ‘Oh, no!’ Holly was still laughing as she removed her earrings. ‘There. Am I safe?’
    He took his tie off and unbuttoned his collar as he studied her—rather acutely—and nodded. ‘Yes.’ He paused and seemed to change his mind about something. ‘OK. Shall we begin?’
    Holly felt her heart jolt. ‘The interview?’
    ‘What else?’ he queried a little dryly.
    ‘Nothing! I mean, um, I didn’t realize you wanted to start tonight—but I’ve made some notes that I brought with me,’ she hastened to assure him and reached for her bag.
    He sat down. ‘Where do you want to start?’
    She drew a notebook from her tote and a pen. She nibbled the end of the pen for a moment and a subtle change came over her.
    She looked at Brett Wyndham meditatively, as if sizing him up, then said, ‘Would you like to give me a brief background-history of the family? I have researched it, but you would have a much more personal view, and you may be able to pinpoint where the seedsof this passion you have for saving endangered-species came from.’
    ‘Animals always fascinated me,’ he said slowly. ‘And growing up on a station gave me plenty of experience with domestic ones, as well as the more exotic wild ones—echidnas, wombats and so on. I also remember my grandmother; she was renowned as a bush vet, although she wasn’t qualified as one. But she always had—’ he paused to grin ‘—a houseful of baby wallabies she’d rescued, or so it seemed to me anyway. She used to hang them up in pillow slips as if they were still in their mother’s pouch.’
    ‘So how far back does the Wyndham association with Far North Queensland go…?’
    An hour later, Brett glanced at his watch and Holly took the hint. She put her pen and notebook back into her tote, but she was satisfied with their progress. Brett had given her an insight into how the Wyndham fortune had been built, as well as a fascinating insight into life on cattle stations in the Cape York area in the early part of the twentieth century—gleaned, he told her, from his grandmother’s stories and diaries. And he’d included a few immediate-family anecdotes.
    ‘Thank you,’ she said warmly. ‘That was a really good beginning. It’s always important to be able to set the scene.’ She drained her brandy. ‘And I’ll try not to require any more medicinal brandy for our next session.’
    He stood up and reached for his jacket. ‘I’m sorry; I have a dinner to attend, but you’re welcome to use the resort dining-room on us.’
    Holly slung her bag on her shoulder. ‘Oh no, but thank you. I was planning to wander down the water-front and indulge in a thoroughly decadent hamburger at one of the cafés, then an early night. We are still flying to Haywire early tomorrow, I take it?’
    ‘Yes. I plan to leave here at nine sharp. I’ll pick you up at Reception.’ He hesitated and frowned.
    Holly studied him. ‘Are you having second thoughts?’ she queried.
    ‘No. But you’re good,’ he said slowly. ‘Especially for one so young.’
    ‘Good?’ She looked puzzled.
    ‘You seem to have the art of putting a person

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