gaze to her brother. ‘S-so…so you rejected his offer?’ Her voice shook.
Damien sighed and nodded. ‘Not only that, he’s bought Clover Hill. I heard the news yesterday. I don’t suppose he’ll be interested in another property in the same area.’
Kim dropped the papers she was holding. ‘Bought Clover Hill?’ she whispered. ‘What’s his
name
?’
‘Richardson,’ her father answered shortly.
‘Reith Richardson,’ Fiona contributed. ‘Rather unusual…Kim, dear, you look dreadful. Is there anything the matter? Anything else, I mean?’
CHAPTER FOUR
I T WAS two weeks after she’d learnt the true state of affairs at home before Kim saw Reith again.
Which turned out to be plenty of time to find herself in even greater turmoil than she’d been in before he’d taken off for ‘points north’.
She couldn’t forgive herself for not sensing that things were badly wrong at home a lot sooner than she had. It made her flinch to think that Mary, the housekeeper, had been concerned for her mother, who was eating poorly, whereas she herself had not even noticed it.
It hurt her to think she’d not interpreted her father’s pent-up rage correctly or even taken much notice of it. And she could have kicked herself for not realizing Damien’s heart wasn’t in the winery. True, she and Damien had never been that close—there were five years between them—but all the same …
Then Reith rang and suggested dinner.
She suggested lunch instead.
They met at a country pub, also her suggestion, not far from Saldanha. She drove there in an estate stationwagon; she’d sold her convertible. The money had been like a drop in the ocean but it had made her feel she was contributing something to the mountain of debt facing the family.
She walked into the pub, wearing jeans and a check shirt and with her hair fish-plaited. Her heart banged once at the sight of him, also in jeans and a black T-shirt, but she ignored it and pulled out a chair …
‘Kim.’ He stood up and studied her closely. Somehow the dimensions of her face were different, the changes wrought by stress, blue shadows beneath her eyes, but the whole beautiful although in a new way, and he went still. ‘You know,’ he said then.
She sat down. ‘I know,’ she repeated. ‘When, as a matter of interest, were you thinking of telling me?’
‘Today,’ he said laconically and signalled to the barman, who brought over a bottle of wine and poured her a glass. Reith had a tankard of beer. The pub, adorned with ancient saddles, bridles and other horse memorabilia, was empty apart from them.
‘Oh, that’s easy enough to say, Reith,’ she taunted.
‘It’s true.’
She stared at him with her lips working, then took a sip of wine to steady herself. ‘Why? Why didn’t you tell me who you were?’
He sat back and rested his arm along the back of the chair beside him. ‘I …’ He paused and narrowed his eyes. ‘Did it matter if you knew who I was or not?’
‘Of course it did! My father regards you as public enemy number one. He feels you’ve offered him a pittance for Balthazar, but not only that, you don’t havethe…the expertise to do justice to what is a famous name.’ She stopped, frustrated. Because, at the back of her mind, although she was employing her father’s arguments, she wasn’t a hundred per cent convinced they were correct. ‘Look,’ she said, ‘my father—’
‘Thinks I’m an upstart from beyond the black stump? It’s OK, I know; he told me,’ Reith drawled. ‘As for your brother, with his polo ponies and his old school tie—we might as well be on different planets.’ He paused and narrowed his eyes. ‘I was hoping you mightn’t share their opinion.’
‘Were you? Were you really, Reith? This is my family we’re talking about. This isn’t just a winery and an estate, not to me it isn’t. It’s something that goes way back …’
‘Look, Kim—’ he broke in ‘—that’s all very well but
Damien sighed and nodded. ‘Not only that, he’s bought Clover Hill. I heard the news yesterday. I don’t suppose he’ll be interested in another property in the same area.’
Kim dropped the papers she was holding. ‘Bought Clover Hill?’ she whispered. ‘What’s his
name
?’
‘Richardson,’ her father answered shortly.
‘Reith Richardson,’ Fiona contributed. ‘Rather unusual…Kim, dear, you look dreadful. Is there anything the matter? Anything else, I mean?’
CHAPTER FOUR
I T WAS two weeks after she’d learnt the true state of affairs at home before Kim saw Reith again.
Which turned out to be plenty of time to find herself in even greater turmoil than she’d been in before he’d taken off for ‘points north’.
She couldn’t forgive herself for not sensing that things were badly wrong at home a lot sooner than she had. It made her flinch to think that Mary, the housekeeper, had been concerned for her mother, who was eating poorly, whereas she herself had not even noticed it.
It hurt her to think she’d not interpreted her father’s pent-up rage correctly or even taken much notice of it. And she could have kicked herself for not realizing Damien’s heart wasn’t in the winery. True, she and Damien had never been that close—there were five years between them—but all the same …
Then Reith rang and suggested dinner.
She suggested lunch instead.
They met at a country pub, also her suggestion, not far from Saldanha. She drove there in an estate stationwagon; she’d sold her convertible. The money had been like a drop in the ocean but it had made her feel she was contributing something to the mountain of debt facing the family.
She walked into the pub, wearing jeans and a check shirt and with her hair fish-plaited. Her heart banged once at the sight of him, also in jeans and a black T-shirt, but she ignored it and pulled out a chair …
‘Kim.’ He stood up and studied her closely. Somehow the dimensions of her face were different, the changes wrought by stress, blue shadows beneath her eyes, but the whole beautiful although in a new way, and he went still. ‘You know,’ he said then.
She sat down. ‘I know,’ she repeated. ‘When, as a matter of interest, were you thinking of telling me?’
‘Today,’ he said laconically and signalled to the barman, who brought over a bottle of wine and poured her a glass. Reith had a tankard of beer. The pub, adorned with ancient saddles, bridles and other horse memorabilia, was empty apart from them.
‘Oh, that’s easy enough to say, Reith,’ she taunted.
‘It’s true.’
She stared at him with her lips working, then took a sip of wine to steady herself. ‘Why? Why didn’t you tell me who you were?’
He sat back and rested his arm along the back of the chair beside him. ‘I …’ He paused and narrowed his eyes. ‘Did it matter if you knew who I was or not?’
‘Of course it did! My father regards you as public enemy number one. He feels you’ve offered him a pittance for Balthazar, but not only that, you don’t havethe…the expertise to do justice to what is a famous name.’ She stopped, frustrated. Because, at the back of her mind, although she was employing her father’s arguments, she wasn’t a hundred per cent convinced they were correct. ‘Look,’ she said, ‘my father—’
‘Thinks I’m an upstart from beyond the black stump? It’s OK, I know; he told me,’ Reith drawled. ‘As for your brother, with his polo ponies and his old school tie—we might as well be on different planets.’ He paused and narrowed his eyes. ‘I was hoping you mightn’t share their opinion.’
‘Were you? Were you really, Reith? This is my family we’re talking about. This isn’t just a winery and an estate, not to me it isn’t. It’s something that goes way back …’
‘Look, Kim—’ he broke in ‘—that’s all very well but
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