The Australian Heiress by Margaret Way Page B

about her, but now she looked like a young woman in crisis. “Stephen married you, not Fiona,” she said firmly. “I really thought you knew that.”
    “I do. ”
    “Then it should take the terror out of Fiona Duncan.”
    “Except that Stephen’s mother and sisters rate her as perfect.”
    “Not on your life! They don’t rate anyone as perfect except themselves. My advice is, see a lot less of them. Especially now.”
    “That’d be difficult.” Linda sighed. “I married into a really tightly knit family. I knew that at the beginning, but I never realized I was going to be in constant competition for my husband’s love. All three of them are jealous of me. Isn’t that a joke?”
    “Nope, it’s bizarre. Anyway, it’s early days, Lindy. They have to learn how to let go.”
    “Sometimes I think they’ll never accept me. I’m like some kind of alien in their midst. My father-inlaw is my ally, though. He was the only one to truly welcome me into the family.”
    “The baby will change all that, I’m sure.” Camille felt angry on her friend’s account. It was difficult to argue with Linda’s stark assessment of the situation. Camille had seen the Carghill women in action. For all their surface togetherness, they never managed to fool anyone. Perhaps they didn’t intend to. Linda was the outsider. And it was true Stephen had been seriously involved with Fiona Duncan, his younger sister’s closest friend, until Linda had come on the scene.
    Linda’s voice was quiet and sad. “Oh, I hope so, Milly. I’ve been having all sorts of weird dreams lately.”
    “Like what?” Camille studied her friend’s small face.
    “Oh, I can’t recall them exactly. But I wake up feeling…afraid. I can hardly put a name to it. I feel as though all the zest has gone out of my life. The bubble’s burst.”
    “That’s dreadful, Lindy.” Camille put out a consoling hand. “Your spirits are down further than I thought. I think it’s the stress of early pregnancy, though. So many changes happening inside your body…”
    “I don’t lead a truly happy life,” Linda said in a troubled voice.
    “Does anybody, love? We have to settle for what happiness we can get You love Stephen. You have abeautiful home, a lovely garden. Both of which you created. And you’re thrilled about the baby.”
    Linda sighed in unexaggerated weariness. “It’s a paradoxical reaction, I know. I’ve always had difficulty handling my feelings.”
    “Perhaps you didn’t give yourself enough time,” Camille suggested gently.
    “I thought I’d lose Stephen if I didn’t agree to everything he said. A short engagement. Start a baby. Fiona is still hovering in the wings. We see her frequently. She’s connected. Marriages don’t last forever anymore. Look at Jill Shields,” she said, referring to a mutual friend. “Her marriage to David lasted exactly eighteen months. We saw them at the wedding. They seemed divinely happy.”
    “Lindy, you’re just feeling low.” Camille was becoming more and more concerned.
    “I never had much self-esteem. In fact, I still get confused about my place in the world. Dad and Mother dote on each other. Always have. They love me, but I don’t fool myself I was ever the center of their world.”
    “So you think all this current ambivalence might have zomzinck to do with your childhood, Frau Carghill?”
    But even Camille’s pseudo-Freudian accent didn’t jolly her friend out of her low spirits. “It was nowhere as grim as yours, but you have to admit we were two very lonely little girls. I don’t know what I would have done without you, Milly. You were always my rock, always there for me. A loving friend.”
    Camille reached out and gave Linda a hug. “You’re feeling especially vulnerable right now. Blame it on amassive surge of hormones. Why don’t you bring forward your appointment with Dr. Bourke? Explain to him how you feel. He may be able to give you something.”
    “The fewer drugs you take