A Mortal Sin (8 page)

“No.” Her lips trembled now the passionate fire had burned itself out.

“Hell, I should have waited, but I couldn’t.” He caressed her hair.

“You do really love me? You haven’t lost respect for me?”

 “I love you, Daphne and I’ll always respect you. Don’t make me take you home tonight. I never want to be parted from you again.”

He stood up and reached for his pants. “I’ll go upstairs and get you something to put on. Afraid I don’t have a nightgown to loan you. Will a pajama top do?”

“Yes.” Her answer came out in a husky whisper.

As soon as he left, she covered her nakedness with her discarded petticoat. With shaking fingers she tried to tidy up her tousled hair. Dear God. Why hadn’t she stopped him before his passion got out of control?

“Don’t blame him,” the little voice of honesty asserted itself. “You wanted his lovemaking. You craved it. Didn’t want it to end.” Would anyone notice that her innocence was gone, because she had been fully awakened by Paul? If her parents noticed, would they be disappointed that she hadn’t waited to give her virginity to her husband on her wedding night?

He returned and, without a word, draped a dark silk robe about her shoulders and spun her around to face him. “I’m sorry, my darling. I should have waited.” He held her close, and Daphne rested her face against his warm, still naked chest.

Hours later, she lay wide-awake with Paul’s arm draped across her waist. She felt dog-tired, yet sleep was impossible. His breathing sounded regular and even, and it hurt that he could sleep so soon after what they shared. It would be different for a man, all this was so new and wondrous to her, whereas for him. She shivered. Would he soon tire of her youthful inexperience and turn to the arms of more sophisticated, exciting women like Kitty?

Daphne tried not to torture herself with such thoughts, but she felt so unsure of this newly found emotion. She wanted to shake him awake, so he would comfort her with words of love.

* * *

Daphne woke up to the sound of crockery. Still dazed, she blinked several times on seeing Paul walking into the room with a breakfast tray. What was she doing here? Suddenly she remembered last night and embarrassed heat burned her cheeks.

“Good morning,” he greeted her with a cheerful grin.

“Hello.”

“Don’t be embarrassed.” He sat on the bed to kiss her mouth. “You look beautiful. Breakfast in bed because I wanted to spoil you.”

There was cereal, toast and marmalade, and a cup of tea. “I’ve already eaten.” He answered her unspoken query. “Might take a stroll to the corner shop for a paper. I want to see how things are going in Europe. Anything I can get you?”

“No thanks, I’ll have to go home for fresh clothes before I go to work.”

By the time she ate, bathed and dressed it was after eleven. Goodness, how the morning flew when you slept in late. She was normally an early riser, had to be, to get everything done on time.

What a wonderful house Ian had, with heaps of modern conveniences. Obviously, he was wealthy too. Would all his friends be like this? Would she, a nurse from a working class background, be able to fit into their careless, moneyed lifestyle? And what of his father? Would an aristocratic Englishman welcome her into the family? Not likely.

Paul sat in the sitting room reading a morning paper, but he stood when she entered. “Well, it doesn’t take you long to get up and about.” Surprise clearly registered on his face.

She supposed the type of women he usually associated with would take ages with their makeup and dress before presenting themselves to him. Some of these thoughts must have shown on her face.

“I can’t change what happened in my past, it’s only the future you need concern yourself with.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I know, darling, but you have expressive eyes.”

“I’m sorry. I’m being an absolute beast, but I love you so much, I’m jealous of all your previous girlfriends.” The last few words came out in a breathy little rush.

“Don’t be, you’re the only girl I want now.” He kissed her mouth, and Daphne pressed herself closer as he tried to move away.

Passion flared between them. His tongue moved across her teeth, and his hand came up to cup her breast. By the time he pulled away he was breathing heavily.

“That’s enough.” Desire darkened his eyes to ebony. He raked trembling fingers through his hair. “I’d better take you home, while I’ve still got the willpower to do so. If we go back upstairs, there’s no way you would make it to work on time.”

“Paul!”

He laughed at her embarrassment. “It’s true. We’ll have lunch after we’ve been to your place.”

Once in the car, they did not drive off straight away, instead he took hold of her hand and brought it to his lips. “Daphne, there’s something I have to tell you about myself. I should have done so before, I tried to tell you a couple of times but we always seemed to get interrupted.”

“What is it?” Fear blazed in her eyes.

“The longer I left it, the harder it got.”

“You’re married.” Those two agonized little words tore at his heart, and he suddenly realized how much she had given him last night.

“No, I’m not married.”

She sagged against him in relief.

“It started out as a joke, at Ian’s suggestion, but I’m a bloody idiot for going along it. When you marry me, you won’t be Mrs. Thomas, you’ll be Mrs. Ashfield.”

“What?”

“My full name is Paul Thomas Ashfield.”

“Is that all? I thought it must have been something terrible.”

“Tell me you’re not angry.”

She nibbled her lip. “I did tell Mum and Dad your name was Thomas.”

“I’ll explain to them, of course.” He didn’t tell her his other secret. He was too fearful of losing her if she knew that the woman married to his father was, in fact, not his mother. Nothing like illegitimacy to scare people off. I can’t even tell her who my real mother is. He felt suddenly desperate. Later on, after they were married, he would explain what little he knew about his birth.

When they reached the boarding house, he did not let her out of the car at once. “Daphne.”

“Yes.”

“Stay with me at Ian’s until we go to Wangaratta.”

“Paul…”

“Please, Sunshine.” He always lowered his voice when he used her pet name, it somehow added to the intimacy between them. “We’ll be married soon. I can’t bear to let you out of my sight for long. No one need know. Everyone at the boarding house will think you’re staying at the hospital and vice versa. We can leave for your parents’ place in the morning. It will give us an earlier start.”

“I don’t know, it seems, somehow sordid.”

“Please, Daphne, we love each other. I liked waking up in the morning to find you next to me. Once we get to Wangaratta it wouldn’t be decent, not in your parents’ home, and it might be a couple of weeks before we can marry.”

“All right,” she finally gave in to his pleading.

He waited in the guest sitting room while Daphne changed and packed her case for home. When she returned they went to see Mrs. Rogers.

“I’ll be staying at the hospital until I go home,” Daphne said. “Paul’s coming back with me to meet my parents. I might have something to tell you when I return.”

“I think you might too. Your young man can’t take his eyes off you.”

“It’s a secret.” Daphne laughed. “Paul has to speak to my parents first. What I mean is…”

“You can trust me. Have a Merry Christmas, dear.”

“Thanks, same to you.”

Chapter Six

Mid morning they left for Wangaratta in the yellow Buick, driving with the windows wound down. Daphne wore a pink linen dress, Paul tailored sports pants and an open necked white shirt.

They stopped at Seymour for lunch, before journeying onwards. The tinder-dry grass in the paddocks shimmered in the summer heat.

“It’s good to be out of the city,” she said on a sigh. “I can’t wait for you to meet my parents. I know you’ll like them.”

“If they’re like you, I’m sure I will, but what if they don’t take to me?”

“They will, silly.” She gave him a friendly punch on the arm.

Euroa, Benalla, Glenrowan, the closer they got to Wangaratta the more excited she became. She was obviously eager to show him off to her family and friends.

Paul thought it wiser not to mention that he had recently passed this way. Would she have been to Dixon’s Siding? He was tempted to ask, but decided not to, for the moment. It could lead to awkward questions that he didn’t have the answer to.

They finally arrived in Wangaratta. Daphne pointed out the Woolen Mills, which employed much of the town’s population, the school she attended and the shops in Murphy Street. She was eager to impress him.

The Clarke house was painted white with a green galvanized roof, and its garden beds were a riot of color, its lawns green and neatly tended. A lazy ribbon of smoke drifted from the red brick chimney and hovered for a moment before disappearing into the atmosphere.

A large green rocking chair reposed on the front verandah, and an old black dog of indiscriminate breed lay stretched out on a mat.

“That’s Max.”

 Paul raised his eyebrows.

 “The dog.” She smiled. “He’s terribly old, belongs to Rob. He whiles away his time eating or sleeping.”

They had barely stepped from the car when a slim, attractive lady with wavy, corn colored hair hurried towards them. Surely this couldn’t be Mrs. Clarke?”

“Mum!” Mother and daughter hugged each other enthusiastically. “Oh Paul, I’m so sorry, Mum, this is Paul...”

“How are you, Paul?” Mrs. Clarke cut off Daphne’s introduction. She spoke in the same quick, breathy way Daphne did.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Clarke.” He spoke formally, feeling stiff, ill at ease. He had the strangest sensation. Had they ever met before? Ridiculous, they couldn’t have, and yet...

He carried his own and Daphne’s cases inside. It was cool indoors away from the heat of the sun, and he glanced around as they passed down a hallway leading into a sitting room.

The furniture appeared shabby, but well cared for. The place shone, yet a paper left carelessly on the arm of a chair, a pipe and tobacco pouch on the mantel beside several photographs, gave it a comfortable, lived-in ambience.

“You won’t mind sharing a room will you, Paul?” Wide blue eyes, surrounded by only a few wrinkles, stared at him enquiringly. “We moved Tom’s things out on to the verandah. He won’t mind sleeping there. He’s coming home for the holidays too.”

“It will be a real family Christmas. You’ll like Tom, everyone does. Where are Dad and Rob?”

“Your father’s still at work. He wants to clear everything up today so he can finish early tomorrow. Rob’s tinkering around in the shed, I think. You’ll have some tea, won’t you, Paul?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“While I’m putting on the kettle, Daphne can show you to your room. You’re much too pale, darling. You’ve lost weight, too. City people don’t eat or rest enough, too busy dashing around all the time.”

Paul smiled. He was going to like it here, especially if the rest of the family were as friendly as this pretty blonde lady. Mrs. Clarke had a presence about her; he felt it straight away, a special warmth that created a comfortable, nurturing environment. When he thought of his own cold, impersonal upbringing, he envied Daphne.

“Come on, Paul.”

He picked up both cases and followed Daphne back into the hallway.

“This is my room.”

He put the case down in a pretty room decorated in pink and white. Yes, he could visualize her in there quite easily.

At the back of the house was a large sleep out, really a closed-in section of the verandah, with twin beds. The boards were bare and unstained, but colorful mats were scattered around. Shelves bulging with books, lined one wall.

“Someone likes reading,” he remarked.

“Rob.”

Paul put the case down and pulled her into his arms. “Sunshine, I’ve wanted to do this all afternoon.” His lips covered hers in a long searing kiss, and their bodies strained close together.

“Oops, sorry,”

Paul stepped back quickly. A tall thin boy with dark curly hair grinned at them.

“I’m Rob, you must be Paul.”

Paul shook the grease-stained hand that was thrust at him.

“Your hands, Rob, they’re filthy,” Daphne scolded.

“I’ve been tinkering with an old motor Dad gave me. Know anything about cars, Paul?”

“A little.”

“You can help me. I’m making myself a car.”

He was over six feet tall and rather gangly, almost too thin. He would be a big man later on when he filled out, Paul thought.

“How are you, Sis? Let’s go. Mum’s sure to put on a spread. A fellow could starve around here. She’s been cooking all week, wouldn’t let me touch anything except for a couple of burnt cakes.”

“Serve you right.” She gave him a little punch. “You would have eaten the lot.”

The three of them went back to the sitting room together, where Paul and Daphne sat on the couch while Rob dropped himself carelessly into an armchair.

Paul rose to his feet when Mrs. Clarke entered carrying a tray.

“I could have helped you, Mum,” Daphne said.

“It’s all right, darling you look tired. Afternoon shift must be quite wretched.”

“Oh it’s all right. Night shift is worse.”

“Milk and sugar, Paul?”

“Yes thank you, one sugar.” He ate a piece of jam roll, complimented her on it, and glanced with interest around the room.

“I’m home, dear.”

“Frank, you’re just in time for tea.” Mrs. Clarke stood up and started across the room.

Paul watched the tall, grey-haired man enter the room. Daphne had said he was an army officer during the Great War, and he still had a military bearing. He stood well over six feet in height, with the same slimness as his children. No wonder young Rob was so tall.

“Dad!” Daphne flew into his arms and they hugged and kissed until he disentangled himself.

“Now, where’s this young man you want me to vet.” His smile took the sting out of his words.