Lillian's Light Horseman (29 page)

“Do you know how worried I’ve been? How desperate?” he said into her hair.

Lillian stiffened and pulled away from his embrace, cruel reality suddenly intruding upon the intimate moment. She turned her back on him, glad when he didn’t try to stop her, and engaged in a quick internal dialog with herself. She needed to harden her heart and her mind to what William had to say. She’d been surprised to see him. She’d already convinced herself that he was better off without her in what was no doubt a complicated situation. And she’d convinced herself that William would see things the same way. Now, here he was, having tracked her down. She couldn’t imagine how hard he had to have been riding to catch her and John Steele. And how
had
he done that? How had he known where they’d been heading?

He was standing motionless behind her and she could almost feel the tension radiating off him. She turned and gazed up into his face, noticing for the first time the strain around his eyes.

“Why did you follow us, William?” she finally asked.

He let out a long breath and scraped his hands through his hair. “Why do you think? Did you really believe that I’d allow you to leave me with only that pitiful letter for an excuse?”

Lillian studied him and wondered if he was even aware of Margaret Dawson’s state. George Dawson, she was sure, would’ve taken the first opportunity to enlighten him. Perhaps she’d been wrong about William after all. Perhaps he really didn’t care about the consequences of his actions.

“It’s beyond us now. You have to think about Margaret Dawson and the baby she is carrying—”

William cursed loudly. “That’s a complete lie,” he snarled. “I can’t believe you’d take the word of a cad like George Dawson without even having the decency to talk to me! What sort of man do you take me for?”

Lillian blanched. For the first time, she worried that she’d been too hasty in her decision to leave. Her mind raced through her conversation with George Dawson and her subsequent reasoning. “But why would he say that? Why would he lie like that?” she whispered.

William’s jaw hardened. “I don’t fully understand the man’s reasoning, but he did tell me that the combination of our two properties would be beneficial to the both of us. Perhaps that was his justification—pure, callous greed!”

Lillian paled. “But using his own daughter and risking her reputation? That’s just despicable.”

William laughed coldly. “Dawson is ruthless when he wants something. If Margaret
is
pregnant, it definitely isn’t mine. Perhaps Margaret told him that I’m the father. I don’t know for sure at the moment but I
do
intend to find out. My only priority was finding you safe and well. I didn’t hang around the Dawsons’ to ask about details, other than the direction in which you were heading.”

Lillian suddenly felt ill and a dull throb had started in her temples. She wanted to believe William with every fiber of her being, but she just couldn’t reconcile the fact that George and Margaret Dawson could be so calculating and cruel. She had so many questions, but a low moan jolted her out of her reverie, reminding her that John Steele was at that moment lying on the ground injured.

She knelt next to him. He moaned again and opened his eyes.

“He’s coming around,” William announced dispassionately. “I’ll get his horse.”

Lillian stared down into John’s glassy gaze. “John, can you hear me?” she asked anxiously.

He blinked then focused his eyes on her face. “Lillian?”

“Yes. Are you badly hurt?”

“I’m fine.” He gritted his teeth and struggled into a sitting position. “Has the arsehole buggered off?”

“No. The arsehole is still here,” William snarled as he led John’s horse toward them. “You don’t seriously think that I’d leave Lillian alone with you again?”

John glared up at him and Lillian noticed a bruise forming on his jaw.

William turned his attention to her. “Lillian, I’d like you to go and wait for me in the clearing.”

This worried her. What was he planning to do? “I’m not sure that’s a good idea…”

William cut her off. “I don’t plan to kill him, Lillian,” he muttered irritably. “Trust me. I just need to speak to Steele alone for a moment.”

Lillian wasn’t sure about leaving the two men. She stood and studied William’s face. He gazed back at her impassively, giving nothing away. Behind her, she heard John curse and struggle to his feet.

She sighed and picked up the remainder of her clothes. She still wore William’s shirt and had hurriedly donned her skirt when the men had been busy arguing. “Fine. I’ll wait for you in the clearing,” she capitulated, too tired and irritated to protest further.

* * * *

Lillian returned to where they’d left the horses. Her underclothes were still a little damp and she hung them on a tree limb to dry.

She retrieved a blanket and the small bag of toilet items she’d allowed herself from her saddlebag and laid the blanket on the ground. She was still barefoot and was mildly surprised that her scamper through the dry undergrowth hadn’t damaged her feet.

Her thoughts were with the two men at the billabong and she worried about William’s intentions, and for that matter John Steele’s too. Surely their ire had fizzled out by now and they could talk civilly to each other.

She loosened her hair from its braid and started brushing it, taking comfort from the soothing strokes as she pondered on her current situation. She didn’t know where she’d go from here but she suspected William would want to take her back to the station. They needed to talk before she would go anywhere with him. She had questions and she wanted answers.

She heard the crackling of underbrush and a moment later William appeared. Lillian’s breath caught in her throat as he strode into the clearing, his shirtless torso rippling with his movement and a light sheen of perspiration covering his chest. She had little experience with the male physique but even in her naïveté, she could appreciate William’s perfectly masculine form. Her mouth watered as she studied his muscles, honed and sculpted from physical labor as well as boxing. Even his legs were powerful and well defined through the fabric of his work trousers. Trousers that sat low on his lean hips, exposing the distinct V of his pelvis and the trail of dark hair that snaked beneath his waistband.

She hadn’t realized that she’d been staring until he chuckled. She looked up at his smirking face.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked, his lips quirking into a sly smile.

She blushed, feeling unaccountably embarrassed at being caught ogling him. After all the things that they’d shared, surely she should feel comfortable enough to look at him. It was the events of the past few days, she reasoned, that made her look at William in a different light, almost as if he was another man, virtually a stranger. The thought was disturbing and she pushed it to the back of her mind. William was the same man, she told herself. She would hear him out and try to make some sense of everything. Deep down, she knew that William was a good and honorable person. Up until this point, she’d allowed her head to rule her actions and it was time she gave her heart the lead.

Another, more immediate worry surfaced. “Where is John?”

William joined her on the blanket, one leg crooked beneath him and the other bent at the knee with an elbow resting across it.

He scowled at her question. “You two definitely became friendly in the short period of time that you’ve been together.”

She huffed out an exasperated breath. “He
helped
me, William. Who knows where I’d be if it wasn’t for him? Probably wandering aimlessly in the outback and on the brink of death through dehydration!”

He sighed. “That’s exactly why I didn’t do anything save for that knockout punch, which he was asking for. I just ensured that he had enough water and thanked him, albeit grudgingly, for helping you. He didn’t leave without some vocal persuasion but, presumably, he’s now on his way back to Coolabah.”

William studied her intently, his face an impassive mask. “But if he’d touched you in any way, he wouldn’t be
comfortably
sitting astride his horse right now.”

A shiver worked its way down Lillian’s spine at the unmistakable venom in his voice.

“Well, happily that didn’t happen,” she said softly.

As she bowed her head and traced the pattern on the blanket, she sensed William reaching toward her. He stopped short of stroking her face and instead curled a long tress of her hair around his finger.

“You have beautiful hair,” he murmured, moving closer to her. “And I love seeing you in my shirt.”

“William.” She raised her head and looked him squarely in the eye. “We need to talk.”

He cursed and pulled away from her. “What George Dawson told you about his daughter and me is a lie! She’s
not
carrying my child, Lillian. That can only happen one way and I can tell you, I’ve definitely
never
been intimate with her.”

“I just can’t believe a father would lie about something like that at the expense of his daughter.”

William studied her face. “Can’t you?”

She inhaled sharply. Of course it was possible. Just look at her father and what he’d done.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have drawn a comparison like that,” William apologized.

“You’re right, though. I should have learned from my own father’s unscrupulous behavior that anything is possible.”

“Perhaps Margaret told George that I’m the father and he was just standing by his daughter. I don’t know for sure, but I’m determined to get answers.” He looked thoughtful. “I didn’t tell you this before, but when I stayed at the Dawson property recently, Margaret crept into my room that evening and propositioned me.”

Lillian gasped. “That’s shocking. Why would she do such a thing?”

William’s lips thinned into a grim smile. “She’s obviously not as innocent as I’d first assumed and given the subsequent events, I’m now wondering whether she was trying to set me up. If I’d succumbed to her wiles, she could then claim that I was the father.”

“I’m so sorry I left. I was overwhelmed and all I could think about was that if I stayed, my presence would interfere with you, Margaret and the unborn baby.”

“Do you have any idea how desperate I’ve been? How terrified for your safety? When I read your letter, I felt like you’d physically ripped my heart out.”

Lillian stifled a sob. She felt wretched that she’d caused William so much distress.

He closed the distance between them and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into his lap. “Hush now,” he whispered into her hair. “I found you. You had to know that I wouldn’t let you go so easily.”

She melted against him and breathed in his masculine scent, relaxed and happy for the first time in days. “I’m glad you did find me. How did you do it by the way?”

“I read your letter again and again and it didn’t sit right with me. I couldn’t allow myself to believe the words that you wrote. I was suspicious and I asked Mrs. Thompson if anything unusual had happened that day. She told me about George Dawson’s visit. I drove over there immediately and confronted him. With some persuasion, he eventually told me everything.”

She couldn’t believe she’d just run off without waiting to speak to William. Of course, at the time she had thought she was doing the right thing, but it still didn’t make up for her impulsive behavior. “I can’t apologize enough for leaving the way I did. I can only say that I wasn’t thinking properly.”

He stroked a hand down her back soothingly. “We’ll rest here tonight. I’ll get a fire started.”

He gently lifted her off his lap and stood. “Let’s gather some kindling.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

William collected wood and tinder. When he arrived back at the clearing, Lillian was making dough for damper.

He dropped the bundle of timber and prepared a fire pit, arranging kindling, tinder and wood to burn slowly and thoroughly.

When the fire had burned down to coals, they cooked the damper, wrapping the dough around a stick and toasting it over the embers. The smell of baking bread floated on the still night air and made his mouth water. He’d had nothing decent to eat in days, just eating whatever he was able while in the saddle.

The damper was delicious, warm and doughy, and when dunked in tinned stew, it tasted like the best meal he’d ever consumed.

After dinner, they curled up together on the blanket. William lay on his side, his head propped on his left hand while he caressed Lillian with his right. He still couldn’t quite believe that he’d found her and he felt compelled to touch her constantly. Her sweet scent of apples washed over him, making him desperate to taste her.

Her hair fanned out around her head in a beautiful silky mass and her emerald eyes glittered in the firelight. She’d replaced his shirt with a blouse of her own that he started to unbutton, working slowly and opening the fabric down the front with one hand. His cock stiffened when he saw that she wasn’t wearing underclothes. Her pink nipples pebbled when the chill night air hit her breasts. Unable to resist any longer, he bent his head to her chest and sucked a rosy-tipped breast into his mouth. She gasped and thrust under him, forcing her plump flesh between his lips. He flicked her nipple with his tongue and massaged the other mound with his right hand, reveling in the feel of her silky smooth skin and her sweet taste.

Lillian moaned and wriggled underneath him. She wound her hands into his hair and tugged hard, sending desire unfurling down his spine and tightening his balls.

He released her breast with a popping sound and kissed a trail down her torso and across her flat stomach, licking a path above the waistband of her skirt. The firelight illuminated her body, bathing her skin in a warm glow.

He unfastened the garment and tugged it down, hissing and cursing under his breath when her legs were revealed to him. Harsh purple bruises covered her inner thighs in the arc of a saddle, looking stark and obscene against her pale flesh.

“Look at what you’ve done to your beautiful skin,” he chastised, shocked at the extent of the saddle chafing.