Husbands Of The Outback: Genni's Dilemma / Charlotte's Choice

“Forget Blaine,” Genevieve whispered, tears starting to her eyes. “He’s been awful to me.”

“But we can’t forget Blaine, poppet,” Emmy said. “Come on, admit it. You love him, hate him, whatever. He’s always been there for you. Yet I have the feeling both of you are still only tapping into what you really mean to each other.”

Genevieve inhaled a deep lungful of air. “He’s a tyrant. Bloody-minded. He has too much power. Angel just told me he’s paying for the wedding, I suppose the wedding dress, the bridesmaids’ dresses, the flowers, the photographers, the church, the marquees, the mountains of food, the drink, the lot.” She turned her violet eyes on Emmy, who knew a great deal more than she ever said.

“And that’s upset you?”

“Upset me?” Genevieve nearly gave way to a primitive urge to scream. “It’s devastated me. I wonder what else my mother is capable of? I suppose he’s paid for everything for years.” She bit her lip hard, realizing she was on the verge of crying.

“Blaine really cares about you, Genni,” Emmy pointed out very gently. “He may be a little short with you from time to time but he’s always had your best interests at heart.”

“Isn’t that nice! He frightens me,” Genevieve suddenly admitted in a wobbly voice.

“Why, sweetheart?” Emmy, maternal by nature but childless, leaned forward, concern on her sunny-natured face.

Genevieve held her aching head. “He’s maddening. He’s a maddening man. And he has a cruel streak.”

“No. I can’t let that go,” Emmy answered with an emphatic shake of her head.

“You always take his part, Emmy. Even you.”

“Because he’s a fine man. I’ve been around you both a long time, Genni. I know how good Blaine has been to you.”

Genevieve gave a miserable sigh, lost in the utter strangeness. She wanted Blaine so badly she was buckling under the strain. “So why has he turned against me, Em?”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Emmy countered so vigorously she set her grey curls bouncing.

“What a joke.” Genevieve hugged herself distractedly. “He’s frozen me out, as you very well know.”

Emmy nodded. “Something went very wrong that polo weekend.”

Even remembering made Genevieve tremble the length of her. “It was just that…Oh, God, Em.” She was drowning in the emotion that surfed through her blood. “Blaine was scathing when I told him I was going to marry Colin. He didn’t take me seriously enough. Then he flew into a cold rage. Those glittering eyes! He told me we could never be happy. He must have thought my education needed broadening because he pulled me to him so absolutely ruthlessly. I thought he was about to beat me. Instead he kissed me, which was worse! I heard stars burst.”

Emmy swung her feet off the ottoman, looking at Genevieve clutching her cheeks. “Kissed you? So he’s kissed you a million times.”

“Oh, yes, throwaway kisses? Pecks on the cheek. Weren’t you listening, Em. I said he kissed me. Really kissed me. It rocked me to my soul. It was brutal. It was brilliant. It was horrible. I thought I was going to die.”

“My goodness!” Emmy, knowing Blaine got the thrilling picture.

“There was no excuse for him,” Genevieve said. “He did it in such a way he’s ruined my life.”

“How’s that, darlin’?” Emmy asked with a great rush of protectiveness.

Genevieve looked back, startled. “Get real, Em. How can I possibly marry Colin when Blaine kissed me? I’m afraid of Blaine.”

“That powerful?” Emmy looked at Genevieve with love and understanding. She adored the girl.

“He’s turned my world upside down, Em. Maybe he didn’t mean to. But he has. I was going along okay. But now! He’s pierced me like an arrow. So strange when he’s planning on getting married himself.”

Emmy closed the box of chocolates carefully. “I take it you mean Sally Fenwick?” she asked briskly.

“Of course I mean Sally.” Genni didn’t look up. “She’s lovely and kind. They’ve been very good friends for so long. Sally is coming to the wedding. She’s staying at the same hotel. Even Hilary likes and approves of her.” Genevieve referred to Blaine’s prickly young stepsister, several years younger than herself. “Hilary hinted marriage isn’t far off.”

“Really? I thought it was a bit of a one-sided relationship,” said Emmy levelly.

“That’s because Blaine never gives anything away.”

“He kissed you. Some kiss by the sound of it.”

Genevieve’s face flared. “Blaine does everything like that, though, doesn’t he? He doesn’t realise he’s so…”

“Powerful?” Emmy hit on the right word.

“God I hate him!” Genevieve said in a small voice.

“Why don’t you tell him?” practical Emmy suggested.

“I did.” Genevieve barely whispered it. “I told him I wanted him out of my life. I told him I was sick to death of his dictatorial ways. I haven’t been able to do a thing to please him for years.”

“Why don’t you tell him again? You might get through this time.”

Genevieve considered this, then shook her head. “I won’t see him until he walks me up the aisle.”

“So tell him tonight,” Emmy pressed. “What’s wrong with that?”

“You mean go to his hotel?”

Emmy nodded. “If I were you I’d do it like a shot.”

Genevieve stared at her. “Emmy, darling, what are you saying?”

“Maybe what I should have said before. Tell Blaine what you tried to tell your mother. You can’t go through with this marriage.”

Genevieve sat erect in her chair and looked at her dear friend in alarm. “He’d be shocked out of his mind.”

“I wonder,” Emmy countered briskly.

“No Courtland would do such a terrible thing. Call off a wedding at the last moment.”

“It’s healthier than making a dreadful mistake, poppet.” Emmy leaned over to grasp Genevieve’s arm. “Blaine’s no ordinary man. Tell him what’s in your heart. Let him take charge.”

Genevieve’s lovely face looked stricken. “I don’t know if I dare. This is dreadful, Em. The house is ready. The church is ready. Our dresses are hanging upstairs. Fabulous dresses that cost a fortune. Three hundred guests are coming. The presents are all in. I don’t know if I have the courage. I don’t think I can humiliate Colin and his family. Colin’s father might very well line up a pantechnicon to run me over. He’s the Freight King after all.”

“Listen, you’ve been bullied into this,” Emmy snorted. “By Colin’s steamroller of a father on the one hand and your conniving mother on the other. An engagement of a couple of months was diabolically clever. You haven’t had time to know your own mind. But evidently Blaine’s kissing you has changed it.”

Genevieve’s face mirrored her inner havoc. “I felt something I’ve never felt in my life. I felt Blaine owned me body and soul. That he’s always been waiting for me to grow up. One kiss ended our old relationship. Dear God, I thought we were family. But it wasn’t family in my blood. I can’t deny I always thought he was the most marvellous man in the world, so exciting he makes the air vibrate, but we were cousins. I was his little Violetta. Remember how he used to call me that?”

“Oh, golly, I remember everything.” Emmy’s voice was low and wry. “Blaine has quite a way with words. For a very commanding man, daunting man at times, Blaine has his softer side. He could be very tender with you. Go to him, poppet. Pour out your heart. I have a feeling he’d pull down the stars for you if you asked him. No, don’t look at me like that. It’s true.”

“It’s not easy, Emmy,” Genevieve said sadly. “I think Blaine wants our break to be permanent.”

Hilary Courtland caught sight of Genevieve the minute she entered the hotel. Just seeing her gave Hilary a queer feeling when she’d been having a good time. Genevieve was moving with the speed and grace of a gazelle but Hilary got the impression of a deep unhappiness. Trouble, Hilary decided. Genni was looking for someone. Who else could it be but Blaine?

“Say, isn’t that your cousin?” Hilary’s male companion asked with immense interest. They’d been tucked away in a banquette, enjoying a mild flirtation, when he heard Hilary’s odd little gasp and caught her startled gaze. Intrigued, he turned his head to follow up on the direction.

“Yes, that’s Genevieve,” Hilary answered, her smile twisted, her tone a lot more revealing than she intended. Ever since she could remember Hilary had felt rancour towards Genevieve. She was Blaine’s sister yet Genni was the one Blaine had always cared about. Genni of the huge violet eyes and Rapunzel hair. Tonight Genevieve was casually dressed, navy gold-buttoned blazer, pale blue shirt, blue jeans, sneakers on her feet yet she looked like the model for the latest Ralph Lauren collection; a glamour girl like her dreadful femme fatale mother.

“God, she’s a beauty, isn’t she?” her companion commented, quite tactlessly. “Drop-dead gorgeous! How could a guy like Colin Garrett, even allowing for the Garret money, win her heart?”

“Well he has!” Hilary answered tartly, rendered almost dumb by jealousy. She put the lemon squash she was nursing down heavily and jumped to her feet. Genevieve appeared to be moving toward the bank of lifts. She had to stop her before she reached Blaine. She had to break what was coming up.

“Don’t go away.” She tossed a false smile at her boyfriend. “I’ll have a word with her and I’ll be right back.”

Her companion waved her off. “Take your time.” In actual fact he felt cheated out of meeting the gorgeous Genevieve. What was she doing here alone this time of night? Whatever it was, it didn’t suit Hilary. She looked upset. Perhaps trying to make sense of her cousin’s unexpected appearance.

Hilary, a small pretty dark-haired, dark-eyed girl but without the Courtland stunning good looks and height, put on a burst of speed. She reached Genevieve just as she was about to step into a lift.

“Hey, Genni!” she called, using such an urgent tone people turned their heads.

“Hilary!” Genevieve turned about, doing her utmost to hide her dismay. For all her efforts to be friendly to Blaine’s young stepsister she had long since realised Hilary would never like her. “What a surprise!”

“And where are you off to?” Hilary fixed Genevieve with big questioning eyes.

Genevieve felt most unwilling to confide in this moody girl but what excuse could she offer? “I wanted to see Blaine for a moment,” she explained as casually as she could. “The receptionist said he was in.”

“Actually he didn’t go out.” Hilary reached out confidentially for Genevieve’s arm and drew her away. “He and Sally are making a night of it. They had dinner together in the hotel. He’s with her now, if you know what I mean?” Hilary rolled her brown eyes expressively. “I’d leave whatever you wanted to ask him to the morning if I were you. You wouldn’t want to embarrass them.” She smiled her kitten smile.

God no! Genevieve felt pierced by an arrow, at that moment ready to flee.

“What is it, anyway? Maybe I can help you?” Hilary’s voice had grown unabashedly affectionate as Genevieve’s desperation slipped out.

“I don’t think so, Hills.”

“Try me.” Hilary guided Genevieve to a couple of chairs. “You know you really will have to get over running to Blaine for help,” she warned gently, unsuccessfully trying to keep her jealousy opaque. “This time tomorrow night you’ll be a married woman.” Hilary couldn’t help herself. She smiled in broad triumph. “You’ll be entering a new life. Your name will be Genevieve Garrett not Courtland. Isn’t that thrilling?”

Quietly, Genevieve removed the other girl’s small hand from her arm. She had never felt less thrilled in her life. “You’ve never liked me, have you, Hilary?” she said levelly, putting years of pretence to one side. “On this night of nights, please tell me. What have I ever done to you?”

Hilary burst into a cascade of tinkling laughter. “Oh, my, Genni, surely you know having you around changed my entire life. For the worse.”

“In what way? Why on earth have you been afraid of me? I would never want to hurt you. We could have been friends. Good friends. We’re cousins. We could have forged an unbreakable bond. But you would never let me get close.”

“Why on earth would I when you had perfected the art of getting between me and my brother.” Hilary’s pretty face was set into unpleasant lines.

“You’re talking nonsense, Hilary.” Genevieve was feeling sicker by the moment. “It’s so unfair. To me. To Blaine. He loves you.”

“No, he doesn’t. Not really. I don’t touch his heart. What heart he has he reserved for you. The fatherless child.” Hilary gave in to the huge temptation to say her piece. “Hell, you seduced him when you were a kid. You even robbed me of my father’s love.” A little sob rose to her throat. “When Dad was alive you used to twist him around your little finger. He hardly noticed me. I was the changeling in the Courtland fold.”

Genevieve felt she might burst out crying, too.

“Hilary how did you let all this bitterness grow in your heart? It’s not true. Not any of it. How long have you felt like this?”

“Since forever.”

“Poor Hilary! You’re breaking my heart,” Genevieve said and meant it.

“I don’t think so.”

“Absolutely,” Genevieve replied, feeling like she was mortally wounded.

“That’s why I’m glad your getting married.” Hilary smiled almost genially. “I knew one day you’d be out of our lives.”

“That’s no way to talk.” Genevieve rose to her feet in protest. “How can you feel like this, say such things to my face, and still come to my wedding?”

“Why?” Hilary looked up at Genevieve, brilliant malice in her eyes.

“Because dear, sweet, beautiful, Genevieve, it’s the day my brother will give you away forever.”

Hilary was still sitting there feeling slightly shaky, but thrilled to have dispensed with the fleeing Genevieve, when Blaine suddenly materialised beside her, almost making her jump out of her skin.

“Isn’t that Genni?” he demanded in the kind of voice that demanded a straight answer.

It took a tremendous effort for Hilary to pull herself together. How could she deny it? That white-gold rope of hair, the model figure, the grace of movement. “Yes, she just popped in to say hello.” She tried a blithe smile, thinking fast.

“Damned odd.” Blaine looked like he was about to take after her, such a restless radiance about him.

“Not really.” Hilary rose, grasping her stepbrother’s arm. “She and her bridesmaids were having a girl’s night out. That was Genni’s BMW parked out the front. Not supposed to do it, of course, but trust Genni to pull it off. A pity. You just missed her.”

“And how was she?” Blaine bent his light lancing glance on his stepsister.

“Oh, lovely! Deliriously happy.” Hilary turned an innocent face to him. “I’ve never seen a girl so much in love.”

“The little fool!” Blaine’s hard, handsome mouth tightened. “He’ll never make her happy.”

“But he will, Blaine,” Hilary insisted, hugging her brother’s arm. “She’s the love of his life!”

And we’re finally free of her.

“Don’t,” Blaine warned, his voice so strange Hilary stared at him vaguely terrified.

“Where’s Sally?” she asked in an effort to divert him.

“She went home an hour ago.” Blaine was still frowning, looking more formidable by the minute. “Surely you knew? We went right past you and your friend.”

“I must have missed you,” Hilary lied. “Sally’s a darling. Mum and I are delighted she’s the woman in your life.”

“Don’t be so dim-witted,” Blaine responded impatiently, his eyes silver chips in his arresting dark face. “Your mother thinks no such thing. As for you? A bit of wishful thinking. Are you sure that’s all Genni wanted?” he insisted. “To say hello?”

“What else?” Hilary wanted to turn and bolt, instead she lightly punched his shoulder. “She’s on top of the world. I am family.”

“So why did you turn down the role of bridesmaid?” Blaine challenged, giving her that lancing look that always made her feel so exposed.

She tried to make a joke of it. “You know. Genni’s so tall. So are her friends. I didn’t want to be the little pipsqueak in the middle. Genni understood. Come and join us for a minute.” Hilary had a powerful nervous urge to draw her stepbrother away.

“No thanks.” Blaine glanced down at her. “I want to leave a message at the desk. Goodnight, Hills. Sweet dreams.”

She stood on tiptoe to kiss his lean cheek. “You, too, brother mine. It’s going to be a wonderful day tomorrow. Like Genni, I can’t wait.”

CHAPTER TWO

The Wedding Day

GENEVIEVE’S four bridesmaids, Tiffany, Montana, Penelope and Astrid, were scattered across her mother’s enormous bedroom chattering and laughing, high on excitement, making minute adjustments to their bridesmaid gowns in a glorious palette of turquoise, fuchsia, lilac and violet, fanning out the voluminous silk skirts, tweaking the short sleeves that ballooned out from the ravishing off-the-shoulder necklines, smoothing the narrow tapered waistlines—all of the girls had been on a strict diet for a month: light breakfast on the day, absolutely nothing until the reception—settling their beautiful floral headpieces, works of art in themselves that matched the colour spectrum of their gowns. Each wore a necklace of twisted palest pink freshwater pearls with the clasp worn to the front, specially chosen to compliment their wonderful dresses—blue topaz, pink tourmaline, amethyst, sapphire—all set in an 18-carat-gold bezel, gifts from the bridegroom, Colin Garrett, heir to George Garrett, the Freight King.

“You should think about getting into your dress now, Genni,” Angel urged, feeling a mite cross at her daughter’s inappropriate lack of enthusiasm. “It’s getting seriously late.” She turned to waggle her fingers at the chief bridesmaid, Tiffany, a statuesque honey-blonde, who walked into Angel’s dressing room “the size of a department store with twice as much merchandise” as Tiffany had confided to her mother and emerged holding Genni’s gown aloft.

“Here comes the bride,” Tiffany tried to speak playfully but she, too, was perturbed by the look in her friend’s eyes, so poignant it was painful to behold. It couldn’t just be nerves. Genevieve looked very much like she didn’t want to get married. Not to Colin Garrett anyway despite the fact many women including Tiffany herself found Colin very attractive.

“Wow!” Montana gave a mesmerized gasp as the others crowded around. “It’s so beautiful it takes my breath away.”

“Me, too!” Astrid agreed, visibly affected. Five times a bridesmaid, she was starting to feel like she was being passed over. But what a gorgeous creation was this gown! Thousands of seed pearls, tiny rhinestones and crystals glimmered on the tight-fitting off-the-shoulder ivory silk bodice, an exquisite pattern that was repeated around the hem of the beautiful billowing skirt.

“I can’t wait to see you in it, Genni.” Astrid, her shiny dark hair gathered into a deep upturned roll at the nape, looked towards her friend. “It’s so absolutely you. I have to see you in it. Come on. You’re so nervy you’re turning me white.”

Genevieve managed to laugh as she always laughed at her friend Astrid. “It seems to me I’m giving my life away.”

Obediently she lifted her long slender legs exquisitely shod in handmade satin courts, stepping into her gown and standing perfectly still while her mother made short work of the long zipper in the back.

“Good God, Genni you’ve got terribly thin,” Angel protested, giving an exasperated sigh. “The waistline could do with another tuck.”

“It’s all right,” Genni insisted, edging away quietly. “Don’t fuss, Angel. I want no fuss.”

“All right, my darling. All right.” Angel trilled, adopting a rare motherly tone to counteract Tiffany’s look of veiled censure. Cheek of the girl! Someone should remind her of her manners. Angel continued to stare into her daughter’s face, feeling a cold wave of panic.

Genevieve had tried to open her heart to her but she hadn’t wanted to listen. Still didn’t for that matter. She was so bloody desperate to get Genevieve married off to the right man. Someone who knew how to respect a beautiful mother-in-law and shower her with gifts. But under the silky golden tan she always had in summer Genni was very pale, her violet eyes so huge they dominated her small face. They seemed to be the only colour about her. Maybe her lipstick, in a luminous frosted rose, needed a heavier application, a touch more blusher? Angel concentrated hard.

“Now the veil!” Montana, the only one not feeling the tension or misinterpreting it as normal bridal jitters approached carrying the full-length tulle veil tenderly over her arm. The headpiece of three exquisite full-blown silk roses, pink and cream with touches of gold was already set in place. Genni was wearing her hair long and loose, the natural curl exaggerated by her hairdresser to suit the romantic conception.

“All right, sweetie?” Montana, very pretty with short caramel-coloured hair, looked at her friend carefully. A number of expressions flitted across Genevieve’s face. Enough to suddenly make warning bells go off in Montana’s head. Colin was very rich, a lot of fun, but admittedly he couldn’t hold a candle to someone like…someone like…well, someone like Genevieve’s cousin, for instance, Blaine Courtland, the big cattle baron. But he was family, the man who was giving Genevieve away. The man due to arrive in about ten minutes at the house.

“Genni’s a bit stressed.” Angel threw her daughter a bracing look. “Big weddings are always like this.” Together she and Montana adjusted the full-length two-tiered tulle veil edged with the finest band of crystals.

“You look truly beautiful, Genni. You bring tears to my eyes.” Montana very gently kissed her friend’s cheek. “I wish you all the happiness in the world. One thing’s certain, Colin will always make you laugh. If he hadn’t fallen in love with you I’d have been after him myself.”

“You were after him, darling,” Astrid slipped in somewhat tartly.

Montana snorted in self-derision. “With Genni around I didn’t stand a chance.”

“Hold up your head, Genni!” clucked Angel, looking absolutely delicious not to say saucy in a light-as-air, sheer-as-silk aquamarine chiffon with swirls of gold and a colourmatched confection on her head that looked like some fabulous intergalactic butterfly had landed. “And do please try to smile.”

Genevieve wasn’t sure she could. Conflicting emotions were threatening to overthrow her and she was starting to feel stomach cramps. On one level she couldn’t bear to be the cause of a dreadful scandal, the gossip columns would outdo each other in their efforts to blame her. Mention would be made of her notoriously fickle mother. She couldn’t bear to bring pain and humiliation to the perennially light-hearted Colin. He trusted her. He wanted her. She wasn’t absolutely sure he loved her. He certainly hadn’t shown her an excess of passion. She knew that now.

He didn’t like the way she was embroiled in the art scene, either. He gave no sign he was interested in her artistic talent, or indeed any artistic talent at all. She’d once dropped the name Jason Pollock into the conversation and Colin thought he was a property developer. His father, George Garrett, was certain to go ballistic. Even now she could hear his great booming voice in her ears, but George Garrett was the least of her worries.

She felt such a fool. Yes, fool was the right word. And one she had to live with. A fool nursing pure loss.

Blaine, as always, was right. She only wished to God he had never kissed her. Before that it had been so easy to hide from herself. Now she felt thoroughly exposed for what she was, a woman prepared to go through with a marriage because the groom had been extremely nice to her. Of course that could be attributed to the emotional deprivation of her childhood. How could she ever have imagined she was in love with Colin?

She was beginning to wonder if she even knew what love was. Overnight she’d turned into a different woman. She knew the why and when. That was when she should have found the courage to act instead of waiting until three hundred guests had put on their wedding finery and left for the church. She either had to go through with it to avoid a terrible mess or lock herself in her bedroom and refuse to come out. If only she could have spoken to Blaine last night. She had so desperately wanted to.