A Wedding in Africa (The Africa Series) (18 page)

‘God only knows!’ Tate wrapped his arm around her shoulder and guided her back to the house. ‘I must say, though, you did look pretty mean. Hell! I thought I was a goner when I saw that plastic bottle pointed directly at my chest!’

‘Lacey grinned. ‘I don’t know why you bothered to risk your life grappling with that cobra! My flask was more than a match for its venom!’

Still laughing, and with Tate’s arms firmly around her, Lacey felt strangely elated. It was as if time had come to a stop, and there was nothing and no-one else that mattered in the whole, wide world.

But that wasn’t exactly true, was it? Time would never stand still. And there was a hell of a lot going on out there in the whole, wide world. The
real
world. Stuff that she didn’t really want to think about right now, but stuff that wouldn’t go away. As much as she loved this wonderful handsome man at her side, she could never risk leaving her comfort zone to live with him - even if he’d asked her to - which he hadn’t! This was a man whose wife had been forced to leave him because he’d fathered a child with one of his own staff. And even now he still hadn’t admitted the truth; he’d still avoided the burning issue of his illegitimate son and the gross injustice he’d inflicted on poor Nandi.

But for now, for this one brief moment, Lacey just wanted to relax and enjoy the weight of his arm around her shoulders, the easy swing of his hips as he cut short his loping stride to match hers. But she knew that soon,
very
soon, it would all be over. She would be gone from here. And Tate Maddox would be nothing more than a distant memory.

As they approached the gate that led back into Matshana’s gardens, a familiar figure came stomping down the path towards them. ‘Mortimer!’ Lacey cried. ‘My God! What the hell are you doing here?’

‘I’d have thought that was pretty obvious!’ Mortimer glared, noting the way Lacey flushed scarlet as she sidestepped out of Tate’s embrace. ‘I came to see what kind of ridiculous notion you’ve got into your head this time. All this stuff about calling off the wedding. What rubbish! But I think I’ve got the picture now,’ he jerked his head in Tate’s direction. ‘I’m just amazed that a smart woman like you could end up falling for someone… for a guy like this!’

Lacey felt her hackles rise. ‘Got the picture?’ she echoed. ‘So you think you’ve “got the picture” do you? Well let me tell you, Mortimer, that you haven’t got the
picture
at all. In fact, you never did get the
picture
where I was concerned, did you?’

‘Seemingly not!’ Mortimer replied sarcastically, his normally pale complexion blotched and ruddy with anger, and beads of sweat bubbling on his brow. ‘But I must say I’m surprised at you, Lacey. God only knows how many women have fallen for this guy’s charms in the past, but I would’ve thought you’d have been above all that.’ Tate raised an eyebrow and bit his tongue to stop himself jumping to his own, and Lacey’s, defence. Mortimer, meanwhile, sallied forth, blissfully unaware of exactly how close he was sailing to the wind where Tate was concerned: ‘But then, if a guy’s got millions in the bank, and a building project that’s going to rake in yet more millions, I guess it’s easy to see how some women might get hooked. I just hoped you’d have had more brains than that, Lacey.’

Tate had been watching the altercation with his hands thrust deep into his pockets and a grim expression on his face. He’d never actually met this guy before, but he took an instant dislike to him, with his foppish blond hair, elegantly skinny frame and girlishly smooth skin. A guy like Mortimer Schutte wouldn’t last five minutes out in the bush, he decided. But then, he didn’t live out in the bush, did he? So Tate’s scathing assessment of Mortimer Schutte’s capabilities didn’t really amount to a hill of beans, did they?

‘That is just
so
typical of you, Mortimer!’ Lacey continued the argument, surprising Tate with the ferocity of her response. ‘As if I care one jot about Tate’s money. I couldn’t give a damn what kind of money he’s got, and I certainly couldn’t care less what kind of money he might earn in the future! Since when have I ever been interested in things like that?’ Tate raised an eyebrow, surprised, but impressed, by her comments. ‘I wouldn’t even have come here if you and my father hadn’t been so keen to plug the lodges to sell more magazines. As far as I’m concerned,’ Lacey paused to include Tate in her look of utter contempt as she said this, ‘you’re all as bad as each other. All any of you care about is money, and I hate it! I’m just glad I’m not like that. I’m glad I have other things in my life. Other, more important things…’

Mortimer snorted and glanced at Tate. ‘She means this book she’s intent on writing - some story about her so-called
real
Africa. Has she told you about it? Probably not. It’s her own “private dream” she keeps telling us. It’s just a soppy love story, yet she’s ready to walk away from our marriage, and our life in Cape Town, for it. Some love story! She’s not exactly the best advert for happy romance, is she? At least, not as far as I can see! Not after all this fiasco!’

Tate exhaled slowly and stepped up to Mortimer; his lean, powerful bulk easily blotting out Mortimer’s reedy frame. His grey eyes had darkened like angry storm clouds. Mortimer’s own China-blue eyes looked away, his stance shuffling uneasily as he recognised the other man’s superior strength and courage.

‘I think it’s great that Lacey’s chosen to honour her homeland by writing a book about it. It’s an amazing tribute to Africa - and to her. And, do you want to know what I think? I applaud her for her courage and determination. And no, for your information, she hadn’t told me about her book, so I reckon it’s pretty churlish of you to betray her confidence by blurting it out like that. You’ve completely ignored Lacey’s right to respect and privacy. And I don’t really like that kind of behaviour. I don’t like it at all.

‘You’re a fine one to talk about standards of behaviour,’ Mortimer contended. ‘I wonder if Lacey knows half of the guilty secrets stashed away in your past. I’ve been there for Lacey through all the good times – and the bad. I’ve helped her get over all that guilt about her mother and brother
and
I’m like a son to Jasper Van der Zyl. Ask anyone – they’ll tell you how much I’ve helped that family since Lacey’s accident.’

Tate spun round to face Lacey. ‘Accident? What accident? What happened to your family? And why should you feel guilty?’

Lacey stared at her feet. ‘I… I was driving the car that killed my mother and my brother, Michael. I shouldn’t have been driving. Michael won the toss… I… I didn’t see the caravan before it was too late. Now they’re both dead… and it was all my fault!’

Tate reached out to brush her hair out of her face. ‘How can it be your fault?’ he whispered, leaning down to peer under her fringe. ‘It was a car accident. It could’ve happened to anyone. Why should you feel guilty about it?’

‘My father lost his only son and heir. I … I could never fill Michael’s place. But Mortimer can. My father loves him like a son. Like the son I killed!’

‘Oh my God!’ Tate shook his head and stepped away, rage threatening to overwhelm him. ‘So that’s why you agreed to marry this guy? You reckon it’s going to make up for the accident that killed your mom and your brother? And you’re happy to let her make this sacrifice, are you?’ he spun round to face Mortimer with black, furious eyes.

‘I hardly think marrying me is a “sacrifice” especially given the amount of work I do for the magazine. Some of my ideas have made them a fortune!’

Tate’s gaze swept from Mortimer to Lacey and, suddenly, it all seemed so obvious. He’d always wondered how someone like Lacey could fall for a shmuck like Schutte, but now he knew. All this was for her father’s sake. She was marrying Schutte to make her father happy, and to help ease her guilt over that terrible accident. But why hadn’t she said so before? Surely she knew that she could talk to Tate. But then, maybe she didn’t want him to know. Maybe this was something she felt she had to do. And, besides, who was he to interfere in someone else’s romance. He wasn’t any great shakes on that front himself!

‘Look, I wish you’d told me about this, Lacey,’ he said at last. ‘I might have been able to help you.’

 

‘She doesn’t need your help. She’s got me!’ Mortimer bridled.

Tate knew he was overstepping the mark. ‘Okay. I know that none of this is my business. I’m sorry, Lacey. I don’t want to complicate things for you. I’ll just get the hell out of here and leave you two to work things out between you. I’ll be up at the house if you need me.’

With that, Tate strode off, back to the house, to be met by his beloved ridgebacks who raced out to welcome him. Lacey watched him go, amazed that he’d actually complimented her for wanting to write a book, rather than ridiculing her ambitions as everyone else did. It was the first time that anything like that had happened to her, and she was grateful that at least one person on this planet seemed to understand where she was coming from.

‘It’s no good looking at him all dewy-eyed,’ Mortimer snarled spitefully. ‘A guy like that would eat you for breakfast - and then spit out the crumbs! For your information, I’ve discovered that Maddox has got some pretty serious skeletons in his cupboard. He used to be married. I bet you didn’t know that! It seems that his wife ran out on him after finding out that he’d got one of his own servants pregnant. That’s right! You may look shocked. I’ve done a bit of digging myself, and Tate Maddox isn’t the nice guy you seem to think he is. His brother won’t speak to him, his wife’s dumped him and he’s now saddled with an illegitimate kid. Think about it, Lacey. Would you
really
want to give up everything we’ve got, everything we’ve worked for, our comfortable life in Cape Town, for a man like
that
?’

Lacey sat down on the bench and held her head in her hands. Her hair fell over her face in damp, tangled wisps. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. ‘Do you know what, Mortimer? I don’t think I actually want to be with
any
man right now. I’ve had it up to here with all of you. And I’m sick to death of carrying this massive burden of guilt around with me. I’m sick of doing things just to please other people; to please you and my father. I think it’s time I started doing what
I
want to do for a change – without worrying what you, or my father for that matter, think about it.’

Mortimer remained standing, towering over her, his face contorted with anger and his stomach churning with bile. ‘It’s that bloody book of yours, isn’t it? You’re planning to chuck everything away for a
book
! For God’s sake, Lacey, grow up. Write the damn thing if you have to, everyone needs a hobby, but stop acting like it’s some kind of mission. It’s just a book. In relation to what we have, it means nothing! Nothing at all!’

Lacey stood up to face him and glowered at him, her eyes flashing dangerously. ‘It may be nothing to
you
, Mortimer, but it means the whole world to me. And if you can’t understand that, can’t even
respect
that, then I know I was right to call off our engagement. We were never really meant to be, Mortimer. It was just something that you and my father decided between the two of you. It was
never
anything to do with me. Well, I can’t live like that anymore. I need to be free of you all. Free of
you
. I want you to go, Mortimer. It’s over.’

‘You’ll regret this, Lacey. And your father will be furious. Have you stopped to think about that?’

‘Yes I have. But, do you know what? I’m not going to be bullied any more. Of course I regret all the terrible pain I caused him in the past – I’ll always be desperately, horribly sorry about my darling mother and my brother - but what’s done is done. I can’t spend my whole like paying for one innocent mistake. That can’t be right, surely? And
I
lost two people I loved, too! None of you stopped to think about that, did you? None of you stopped to consider how I was feeling; how much I was hurting.’

Mortimer shrugged his shoulders. ‘There’s obviously no point arguing with you in this frame of mind. Maddox has clearly turned your head, and it’ll only get worse now he’s given your precious book his seal of approval. Maybe you two deserve each other. And, to be honest, I’m not sure now that I really want to be married to someone who spends all her time daydreaming about romantic novels and muttering on about Africa. I need a wife who’ll set up a home for me, secure our place in the upper echelons of Cape Town society, do the things that proper society wives are supposed to do. You were always a dreamer, Lacey - way too airy-fairy for me. Thinking about it now, I reckon I’ve probably had a lucky escape!’

Without another word, or a backward glance, Mortimer turned and left her standing there; his suit jacket, now all crumpled and dusty, slung over his shoulder. Lacey watched him go. But even as she watched her future disintegrating before her very eyes, she couldn’t help wondering how long it would be before that jacket found itself primped and primed at the drycleaners! Mortimer didn’t do messy.

Which was a real shame, because she was pretty damn sure she looked a real mess herself right now!

Still a little shell-shocked, but vaguely aware that a heavy burden had been lifted from her shoulders, Lacey sat back down on the bench and squeezed her eyes tight shut, enjoying the coral-pink warmth of the sun filtering through her lids. When she opened them again, Nandi was standing there.

‘Nandi! Gosh, I didn’t hear you arrive.’

Nandi - calm, beautiful Nandi - simply stood there for a moment and looked at Lacey with compassionate eyes. Lacey looked back at her and, basking in that gentle gaze, she felt her anger, her hurt and her fear slowly slipping away. In the distance, they heard Mortimer’s car start up and roar away down the drive. Then, when he was gone, Nandi placed her basket of mealies from the vegetable garden on the ground. She pulled off her pinafore and placed it on top of the basket to protect the corn cobs from the searing heat.

‘May I sit down beside you, Miss Lacey?’ she asked in her soft, melodious voice.