The English Lord's Secret Son. Margaret Way

once famous gardens, particularly the rose gardens. It had become something of a wilderness, quite a challenge, but Lord Wyndham hired a world-famous landscape designer, David Courtland.”

      She was fortunate she had grown up with a passionate gardening team, Stella and Arnold, who had passed on their passion to her. “I’ve heard of him.” She nodded. “I’m assuming you’re the gardener?”

      “You could say that.”

      “A pretty posh one, if you don’t mind my saying so.” Her amazing lime-green eyes flashed mockery.

      “Don’t mind in the least. If you’re very good between here and the hall I’ll let you see over the garden. It has a number of ‘rooms’ but Dave has begun a new project. He’s in London for a couple of days.”

      “Leaving you in charge? Call him Dave, do you?” she asked provocatively.

      “The first strike against you,” he clipped off.

      “Ah, come on.”

      “Get back in the car.”

      “Certainly, m’lord.”

      And so it began. The great star-crossed love affair of her life.

      CHAPTER THREE

      The present.

      HUGH SAUNDERS stood up to perform the introductions, a delighted smile on his lean, tanned face. Each member of the team and their specific function was acknowledged. Handshakes all round. Murphy Stiller’s habitual glare was replaced by a sunburst. When it came to Cate’s turn she actually considered fleeing the room, like a woman teetering on the brink of a major crack-up. For all the little niggles of nameless anxiety the last thing her mind had focused on was this momentous blast from the past. Would he now confound her and say, “But I know you, surely? It’s Catrina Hamilton, isn’t it?” all the while pinning her with his blazing blue eyes?

      He did no such thing. Not a muscle on his striking face moved. He calmly took her hand. God, was she bound to him for ever? Even that brief, cool contact evoked such grief, such remembered pain she almost moaned. This time it seemed he had no mind to be cruel. All that came was the usual rhetorical “how do you do?” requiring no answer. Somehow she was able to resume her seat. She had to cast out her devils. And fast. At least her blood was coursing around her body again. A few fraught moments, then she was able to regain enough composure to not put her job in jeopardy.

      As CEO, Hugh Saunders dealt with matters mostly but when he turned for her input she was able to contribute from a wealth of research. Her brain was on autopilot. Not for the first time in her career but never when she was in such a high emotional state.

      “Absolutely right, Cate.” Hugh spoke with approval. Always rely on Cate to give clear concise answers, he thought. Nothing routine. Outside the box. She was one classy young woman, with high-grade diplomacy skills. He admired her capacities and shrewd gut instincts. Gut instincts he considered important. They provided an edge. Even more importantly, never once in his experience had she attempted to capitalise on her beauty.

      For some reason Murphy Stiller had suffered a collapse of her usual supreme confidence so Cate was invited to speak out more often. It might have been a triumph despite Murphy’s periodic grunts. Murphy was looking a bit as if she wanted to kill someone, preferably Cate. Cate for her part was falling back heavily on experience. Wyndham’s questions when they came were brusque, very explicit. It was obvious to everyone seated around the table he was well acquainted with big business, Money Business. They all knew it was conducted in a certain way, bland enough on the surface, underneath extremely tough. He wasn’t relying on his advisors. He was managing his own negotiations. While the team was taking the fifth Baron Wyndham’s measure he was taking theirs. In the course of the meeting it was revealed he had substantial investments in the mining sector of Chile and Canada. Although the vast State of Western Australia was the usual target for their investors, Cate suggested Queensland as an excellent alternative. Mining drove the Queensland economy just as it did W.A. The traditional bases of wealth created over several generations were being overtaken by mining magnates, some of them surprisingly young. These men were fast rising to the top of the Rich List, rubbing shoulders with the multibillionaires.

      Eventually the meeting broke up. Discussions had been intense. A follow-up meeting was scheduled for midweek.

      Cate was still concerned he was going to expose her. As what, for God’s sake? No one on the planet outside Stella knew Lord Wyndham was the father of her child. Not a single soul since dear Arnold had passed away after two very painful years of battling lung cancer. Her adoptive father always had smoked too much.

      Hugh’s up mood was infectious. They were moving out of the boardroom, when he suddenly brought up Wyndham’s other interest. Buying land on some beautiful Whitsunday island.

      “Just a moment, Cate.” For some reason Cate was moving away too fast.

      “Yes, sir.” She turned back.

      “Cate here might very well have the answer to your Barrier Reef island retreat,” he told Wyndham.

      “No.” Wyndham responded suavely.

      “Cate works hard at everything she does,” said Hugh. “She has managed to build a very good relationship with a lady, Lady McCready actually, now in her mid-eighties, who owns a small but fabulous Whitsunday island called Isla Bella.”

      “After one of Italy’s great gardens perhaps or simply a beautiful island?” he asked without looking at Cate.

      “Lady McCready did confide she and her husband named their island after a trip to Italy,” Cate said. “They loved Italy and the wonderful gardens.”

      Now he looked down his blade of a nose at her. “The island is for sale?”

      “Could be. Could be,” Hugh broke in, somewhat puzzled by a certain tension in the atmosphere. He had an instinct for such things.

      “You have doubts, Ms Hamilton?” Wyndham asked, his tone faintly brittle.

      “Up to a point, yes. Lady McCready is very much against exploitation of her island. No boutique hotels for the rich and their … friends. Certainly no tourist destination. The island has been her home since the death of her husband. She would never be budged on an investment.”

      Before Hugh could intervene Wyndham pre-empted him. “Let me make it quite clear, Ms Hamilton. It’s a private home I wish to build. A tropical retreat for me and my family. Hopefully a few friends will be allowed. I’m a very busy man. Occasionally I like getting away from it all. This is the first trip I’ve been able to make to Australia. I very much like what I see. The Great Barrier Reef is one of the great wonders of the world. I intend to see it while I’m here.”

      “Wonderful!” Hugh said, giving Cate the beginnings of a sharpish look. “If you are seriously interested, perhaps Cate could contact Lady McCready. She trusts Cate, you see.”

      For a fleeting instant Wyndham looked as though he wouldn’t trust her for a minute. “Perhaps we could discuss it over dinner this evening,” he suggested, as though formalising the matter, making it a business call.

      “Cate?” Hugh prompted, his grey gaze turning faintly steely.

      Hugh was as near to perturbed as she had seen him. Her behaviour, she knew, wasn’t being consistent. She always did what was expected. The intelligent, indeed the only, thing to do.

      Her training took over. “Certainly, Lord Wyndham,” she said, demonstrating her loyalty to the firm. “That would be lovely. I could in the meantime see if I can contact Lady McCready.”

      “With that happy thought in mind,” he said smoothly, “perhaps you can recommend a restaurant. You know Sydney. I don’t.”

      “C’est Bon!” Cate and Hugh said together.

      “I could pick you up at your hotel,” Cate said, trying hard to be charming for Hugh’s sake. “Shall