The Bridal Bargain. Emma Darcy
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I guess that’s what Mr Right is for, Mrs King,” she recovered, understanding this woman was highly unlikely to view the more casual live-together relationships in a kindly light.
“Unfortunately he’s not all that easy to find these days,” she rattled on, feeling she had to give a proper explanation of her failure to find him. “It’s not only a matter of him being right for me. I’ve got to be right for him and then the timing has to be right…” She heaved a rueful sigh. “Here I am, twenty-six, and the whole combination has not yet occurred for me.”
A sympathetic nod. “It’s true one cannot order it. As you say, there has to be a combination of auspicious circumstances.”
Got out of that one, Hannah thought triumphantly.
“Would you mind telling me something about your family, Miss O’Neill? I take it you are of Irish descent?”
Hannah laughed. Good humour covered a multitude of shortcomings. “Irish on both sides,” she replied. “My mother’s name was Ryan. Maureen Ryan. I’m the middle one of nine children, all of us very much wanted and loved.”
“Nine? That’s a very large family these days.”
“I know. It amazes most people. Some disapprove, calling it breeding like rabbits. I can only say I’ve never felt like a rabbit and it’s always been great having the ready support of a big family.”
“You haven’t missed them on this long journey you’ve taken?” was asked curiously.
“Well, we were brought up to be independent, too. To follow our own star, so to speak. Besides, they’re all only a call away. I noticed an Internet café here in Port Douglas when I arrived. That makes it easy to stay in touch.”
The old lady nodded, seemingly pleased with Hannah’s portrayal of her family background. “Are you keen to have many children yourself when you do marry?” she asked.
Why was this important? Hannah sensed it was. “At least four,” she answered truthfully, then shaved the answer with practical issues. “If I can get my husband to agree, and I’m not too old when I find him.”
“Twenty-six, twenty-seven,” the old lady said assessingly, as though she was totting up how many babies Hannah could fit in. “Perhaps you need to stay in one place for a while, Miss O’Neill. How long do you plan on staying in Port Douglas?”
“Oh, definitely for as long as the job lasts, Mrs King.”
A warm approval was now coming from the older woman, which boosted Hannah’s confidence. Family was obviously a key factor here. Hannah didn’t care why as long as it was working for her. Her instincts were shouting—Play it to the hilt!
“I notice you spent the last tourist season working at King’s Eden Wilderness Resort in the Kimberley,” came the next tack in the interview.
King’s Eden…King’s Castle…oh wow! Was this another branch of the same family? More legendary stuff—the Kings of the Outback and the Kings of the Tropics?
“What did you think of it?” Isabella Valeri King ran on.
Hannah’s enthusiasm did not have to be feigned one bit. “The resort was a fantastic slice of the Outback. A great experience. And so was working with the head chef there, Roberto,” she popped in judiciously. “I swear no one can cook barramundi like Roberto. Absolutely superb. It has to be the best-tasting fish in the world. Whenever the guests at the homestead brought in a catch…”
“And you learnt to cook it as he did?”
“Mrs King, give me a fresh barramundi, and I’ll give you a meal to remember.”
“I may take you up on that, Miss O’Neill.”
Enough about cooking! That hook was in. Better to get back to family. She projected eager, bright-eyed interest. “Is there a connection between the King family here and the Kings of the Kimberley?”
“We are related,” came the proud acknowledgment. “The older brother of my husband, Edward, carried the family line on at King’s Eden.”
Remembering the wonderful homestead on the great cattle station, sited like a crown on the top of a hill overlooking the river, she had to ask, “Did your husband build this castle?”
“No. My father did. It used to be known as the Valeri Villa in the old days. After my father died, and my son took over the plantations, the local people started calling it King’s Castle, and so it is today.”
“Plantations?” Hannah prompted.
“It was all sugarcane then.” She waved to the view. “Look across the inlet!”
Cane fields stretching from the sea to the mountains.
“My mother used to watch the burning of the cane from the tower here. But they do not burn the fields now. The cane is harvested green with special machinery. My grandson, Alessandro, looks after that business. His brother, Antonio, manages the tea…”
“Tea?” Hannah remembered seeing a tea plantation at Cape Tribulation.
Isabella nodded. “Though I suspect Antonio is more interested in his Kingtripper Company. The new boat, Duchess, is his pride and joy.”
So Antonio would be her boss if she clinched the job. Antonio, Alessandro…a very strong Italian influence here. Maybe that encompassed the thing about family.
“Your résumé says you worked on a boat at Fremantle in Western Australia,” Isabella went on, getting back to tricky business for Hannah.
She nodded. “Catering for Sunset Cruises around the harbour.” If you could call drinks and nibbles catering!
“So you’re used to working in a galley.”
“Oh, yes. Absolutely.”
“And you don’t get seasick?”
“Never have been.”
True, but she hadn’t been tested much on that score. Better buy herself some travel-sickness pills to be on the safe side.
“Matteo supplies a selection of exotic fruit for exclusive use on Duchess,” Mrs King informed her. “You will have to learn about their qualities. Matteo is my youngest grandson. He looks after the tropical fruit plantations.”
Three Kings, Hannah thought, and wondered if they had wives. “Do you have any great-grand-children, Mrs King?”
She smiled, delight twinkling in her dark eyes. “A little boy, Marco. He is the son of Alessandro and Gina, who is now expecting another child.”
“Well, congratulations!” Hannah said heartily.
“Thank you. Unfortunately, my other two grandsons have not yet found…” Her mouth quirked. “…Miss Right.”
“It’s not easy,” Hannah said with much sympathetic feeling.
“Love is a gift,” Mrs King murmured, with a look of satisfaction that stirred Hannah’s curiosity again.
Before she could inquire what was meant they were both distracted by the noise of a helicopter zooming very close above them.
Mrs King looked even more satisfied as she explained, “That will be Antonio, coming in to land on the helipad. He said he would join us here if he could.”
Uh-oh! Hannah’s stomach did a little flip. She’d been doing so well with Mrs King, establishing a really warm rapport that would surely have led to her being given the job. Now she had to face the boss-man and win him over, too.
Double jeopardy!
At least she had his grandmother onside, which was some consolation, but undoubtedly the boss-man would have the last say.
Antonio…
Not married.
Did