The Australian Heiress by Margaret Way Page B

father tut-tutted as he carried her to her room. “Do you think you can behave yourself for just ten minutes?”
    Camille followed them, quietly observing.
    Melissa buried her face in her father’s neck. “I love you, Daddy,” she said, her little face lit with intense feeling.
    “You’d better!” He made as if to drop her.
    “Camille doesn’t want to marry you, you know. She said so.”
    “I knew that without being told,” he answered dryly. “Actually Camille doesn’t like me at all.”
    “Oh, she does!” Melissa giggled as if her father had made a joke. “Clare said all the women are mad for you.”
    “Except me,” Camille intervened tartly.
    Melissa’s bedroom was enormous, the general impression one of splendor. It was a bedroom befitting a princess, but Camille could see how a little girl might find it overwhelming.
    “See, Camille?” Melissa gestured with one arm.
    “See what?” Her father set her down on the huge canopied four-poster that was magnificent if seen through the eyes of an adult. Nick Lombard tucked hisdaughter’s feet in and drew up the covers, while the child gazed up into his face.
    “I told Camille I didn’t like my room, Daddy.”
    “I would never have guessed it.” He sounded genuinely surprised.
    “I know, because I told you I did. ”
    “So you were just trying to please me? That was silly. If you don’t like it, we can change it. You know that. What is it you don’t like?”
    The rich ambience suited him perfectly, but Camille decided to help out the hesitant Melissa. “Perhaps it’s too big,” she suggested. “It’s a very beautiful room. I’m sure Melissa is going to love it when she’s older, but for the time being it’s a little grand. Has perhaps too much atmosphere. Children have such imaginations.”
    “Indeed.” He stood framed by the golden light, obviously considering. “And I bought the bed specially.”
    “It’s wonderful!” Camille moved closer, winding an appreciative arm around one of the beautifully carved posts. “But perhaps something a little smaller…without the canopy?”
    “Is that all right, Daddy?” Melissa asked in an anxious voice.
    “Of course it’s all right.” He stood staring at his daughter, then into Camille’s beautiful face. She was wearing some light sweet fragrance that drifted beguilingly.
    “I like painted furniture,” Melissa said. She sounded like a different child. Happy, excited.
    “I can see creams and sunshine yellow,” Camille offered, smiling.
    “Oh, yes!” Melissa gave Camille a grateful glance. “Yellow is a lovely color. My best dress is yellow. Aunty Elizabeth sent it to me. She lives in Melbourne. She’s Lady Wyatt, you know.”
    “My sister,” Nick Lombard explained unnecessarily. Camille knew of the connection, as did most people. Peter Wyatt, QC, had recently been appointed to the High Court.
    “Why don’t you think about it, Melissa, while you doze off,” Camille suggested. “I’m sure there’s another bedroom in the house that would be perfect. You could paint it any color you like. Have pretty curtains and cushions, a matching quilted bedspread. New furniture and a desk. You’d want to do your reading and writing there.”
    “That would be great!” Melissa came close to beaming. “It’s what I want.”
    “Well,” Nick said, “we do have a lot to thank Camille for.” He bent to kiss his daughter good-night.
    “I’m so glad she came tonight!” Melissa declared.
    “So am I. I only wish you’d mentioned that you didn’t like your room to me before.”
    “Miss Larkins said I should never complain.”
    “If you don’t like something, you must come to me,” her father said. “Miss Larkins is here to look after you, but I’m the boss.”
    Melissa grinned. “I wish you’d sack her.”
    “How many nannies would that make?”
    “I try to like them, Daddy,” Melissa said, her eyes huge, serious. “Miss Larkins is the worst, if you ask me.”
    “We’ll talk