Timeless Passion: 10 Historical Romances To Savor (261 page)

The house consisted of four large bedrooms and the library upstairs. Downstairs the rooms were spacious and airy, with high ceilings and wide French doors opening from every room onto the verandas. There was a large drawing room, the sitting room she had seen earlier, and a formal dining room. She caught a glimpse of silver and crystal as they passed and decided his books of account would make interesting reading. The rooms were tastefully furnished with many items appearing to have come from the East. Electra could not fault William’s taste, but was not prepared to share her opinion. She was not even sure why. Perhaps after months of every aspect of her life being open for public scrutiny, she needed to reclaim her privacy, if only in her thoughts.

As they entered the drawing room, she gasped at the gleaming, square pianoforte dominating the corner. She hurried across the room and lifted the lid. The familiar smell of dusty cedar, mixed with the strange, animal smell of ivory, assailed her, stimulating childhood memories. Her fingers began to tinkle softly on the keys, teasing out a tune she had often played for her father.

“Oh, do you play?” he asked.

“Yes, I was taught as a child,” she hastily wiped away a tear. “And that upsets you?” asked William.

She was suddenly filled with a bitter sense of injustice at his question. All these pleasures had once been part of her life. But that seemed like a lifetime ago. Did he think everything was so simple? That he could just open his doors and she would slip, unmoved, from a world of hardship and deprivation into his world of silver, crystal, and gleaming pianofortes? She lashed out, wanting to squash his pride in his possessions. “And what would you want with a pianoforte? It is the last thing I would expect to see in this godforsaken place.”

He appeared stung by her remark. “Such enthusiasm about your new home.” He did not hide the sarcasm in his voice. “I had the pianoforte shipped from England. In fact it arrived on the
Liberty
.”

Was he serious? Did he think the fact both she and the piano had arrived together would please her? The object of their discussion would probably have had more comfortable conditions than the women. Her eyes narrowed in anger. “Unlike you, William, I did not make the choice to come here so do not expect enthusiasm from me.” She looked over at the pianoforte. “I also have not been enjoying the comforts that you obviously have.”

His eyes were steely as he responded. “Unlike you, Electra, I did not break the law and am therefore entitled to my comforts.”

The air left her lungs as his words stripped her of whatever status she may have imagined as his wife. A look of contrition immediately crossed his face but it was too late. Somehow she made it through the door and down the stairs.

The thought had never occurred to her.

Her husband believed she was guilty.

Chapter Four

With one hand on her chest to still her rapid heartbeat and the other gripping the stair railing, Electra halted on the last step. Her eyes frantically scanned the unfamiliar surroundings but at the sound of William’s footsteps, she hitched up her skirts and ran. At the bottom of the sweeping front yard, the river blocked her path. Gasping for breath, she flopped to the ground under a weeping willow tree.

At the sound of William calling her name, she shuffled further into the shade of the willow. Its slender, drooping branches provided a private sanctuary as she muttered to herself, determined not to cry.

What kind of man would say such things? What arrogance and insensitivity. She had never for a moment entertained the thought that he may believe her guilty. The fact he married her, meant he believed in her innocence. Did it not? Oh Lord, how could she be so foolish and naïve? William would not help her prove her innocence. He thought she was a criminal. He would always think of her as a criminal.

She thumped the ground in frustration as she realized it mattered what he thought of her. Although he twice insulted her with his tactless comments, he did not hesitate to clarify her place in the household to Mary. And he could not have guessed the reasons behind her bitter response to his question. However, he should expect a little irrationality after what she had been through. Surely. Before his comments in the drawing room, she had even imagined the marriage might be somewhat pleasant, at least until she returned to England.

Well, she could forget that now. She would enjoy the comforts of his home and the protection of his money until her term was up. Then she would convince him to take her home to England. Even if he chose to return to New South Wales, it would be quite acceptable. Captain Hawley spoke of many men in the colony who had wives in England.

At the thought of returning to England, she stilled. What would she go back to? Everything, including her good reputation, and everyone who mattered, had been taken from her. In truth, there was nothing left for her there. England was lost to her. The tears she was determined not to cry welled up and spilt down her cheeks.

Her handkerchief was soggy as she wiped her nose once more. Another sob hiccoughed loudly as the flow finally subsided. She fell back on the grass and contemplated the leafy walls of the willow. Late afternoon sunshine dappled the ground and she could hear the river splash over fallen logs as it rambled toward the sea. Despite her anger and misery, the peace and beauty of her surroundings calmed her. Enough to give some rational consideration to her situation.

Now, what was she to do about this hasty marriage?

She sighed, already knowing the answer. There was no choice but to go back and continue the farce of being William Radcliffe’s wife. The courts may have given her a seven-year sentence, but her marriage to William Radcliffe had given her a life sentence.

But she would survive them both.

• • •

By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, Electra was ready to return.

“Right,” she said aloud, as she stood and dusted down her skirt. “If Mr. High and Mighty Radcliffe wants a mistress for his house then he’s got one. Possibly not the one he imagined … ”

She strode back to the kitchen and stood in the doorway, observing Shi Liang’s food preparations. “What have we for dinner, Shi Liang? Do you need me for anything?”

Shi Liang turned around, confused at her question. “No Missee, I look after kitchen and house. You lady, you sit, do nothing.”

“Goodness, no, Shi Liang. I am mistress now and I want you to consult me on everything.” The cook looked at her blankly until she waved her hand, conceding defeat for the moment. “Never mind, we can start with that tomorrow.” She turned back toward the house.

Then, as a thought came to her, she called out, “Oh and make sure you serve dinner within the hour.”

Pleased with her show of control, she continued into the house. She might have been mistaken, but she could swear there were angry mutterings and the sound of utensils crashing to the floor. She shrugged. Shi Liang would get used to her demands and if not, well, that was for her husband to sort out.

• • •

Dinner began as a quiet affair. The silence punctuated only by Shi Liang noisily placing the food onto the table in front of them.

“Shi Liang, if you have a problem please tell me what it is. I refuse to sit here and watch you break our best china as you exercise your temper,” snapped William.

“Ask Missee, she in charge of house now,” he answered petulantly and swept out of the room.

William’s eyes flicked to Electra’s face but her look was challenging. “You did tell me you wanted me to be the mistress of your house. So I informed Shi Liang he was to consult me on everything.”

William gritted his teeth. She had succeeded in upsetting the only domestic servant capable of efficiency and dependability. And this was her first night.

“Perhaps you might just familiarize yourself with how everything works before taking on any duties,” he suggested.

Her eyes blazed. “Is there something you are trying to tell me?”

“Not at all, my dear.”

“Are you patronizing me, William?”

He had been right. This woman would not be easy to control. If she would stop looking at him with those golden eyes, he might be able to think clearly. Maybe if he changed the subject, she might settle down.

He cleared his throat. “What do you think of Riverside so far, Electra?”

The anger in her eyes softened and she looked down at her lap. “The parts I have seen are very nice. How much land do you farm, William?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Approximately 2,500 acres. Some of it I purchased, some of it was a land grant from the governor. Callum will explain the details when he shows you around.” He took a bite of his pie. “Do you ride, Electra?”

“Oh yes, I love to ride. I learned on my father’s country est — er, on a country holiday.”

William frowned, wondering what it was she had nearly said. Although his curiosity was piqued, her pale, strained face stopped him prying. Instead, he said, “I have a quiet mare with a soft mouth. You can ride her and see what you think.” Then as a thought came to him, he added, “I thought we might go into Sydney Town tomorrow and order some gowns for you and any other articles of clothing you need. What do you think?”

“I suppose so. Ah, would I be seen do you think?” she asked, looking at Shelagh’s ill-fitting work smock.

“I had given consideration to your borrowed attire,” he said with a slight grin. When you went for your — er, walk earlier, I rode over to a neighbouring property. My neighbour’s wife has given me directions to a seamstress whose shop backs onto a lane. We can leave the horse and cart in the lane and enter unseen. I am hoping she will also have some ready-made gowns we can purchase immediately.”

“Thank you, William, I appreciate that,” she said.

He nodded and put a forkful of food into his mouth. It seemed he had done something that pleased her at last. His skin prickled in awareness as she watched him; he could feel it as he chewed self-consciously. If only he knew what she was thinking. Perhaps if he asked her about herself?

He finished his mouthful and looked up. This marriage business was damned awkward. “I am intrigued by your name. It is very unusual. Do you mind if I ask how you came by it?”

She blinked at his unexpected question. “My mother loved Greek literature and Greek mythology. She named me after Electra, the daughter of Agamemnon. The name means ‘bright and shining like the fiery sun.’ She said both my hair and eyes reminded her of the sun. I was five when she told me this; it is one memory I hold dear.”

William did not answer immediately. He was aware she had finally given him something of herself. But what sort of convict has a mother who speaks to her of the great Greek classics? There were too many questions and the damned woman was giving him no answers.

He tilted his head and looked at her. “She was right. About your eyes and hair. She sounds unusual, your mother,” he said.

Electra flushed as he continued to stare at her. “Er, yes, I believe she was. I was young when she died and it hurt my father to speak about her. I am left with few memories and little knowledge. I think — I hoped there was some thrilling, foreign heritage, a secret I could have shared with my mother but … ”

He noticed the pain in her eyes as she spoke and her sudden difficulty in swallowing. Perhaps if he remained silent there may be further personal disclosures, but she turned back to her meal. When they had both finished eating, Shi Liang sent Mary in to clear the dishes. Electra said a polite goodnight and went to her room.

• • •

William poured brandy into a wide glass and flopped into his winged chair by the fire. No one had challenged him for many years like Electra did. Except Callum, of course, but he was not disconcerted by Callum. And, damn it, he didn’t want to bed Callum. In the past when life became too difficult, he turned his back and walked away. But there was no walking away this time. He had invited her into his life. And now he must live with his decision. Besides, she had no one else.

He lifted the glass and let the smooth liquid slide down his throat. As an army officer and now as a landowner, he was used to giving orders and having them followed. Why was she not happy to be a compliant wife? And her air of breeding, where had this come from? Was that the source of her stubbornness, or had that particular trait developed in prison or on the ship? In both places, one would live or die depending on strength of will.

He closed his eyes and thought about his sister, Avery. They had been close as children but had not been in contact for some years. She too had been fearless, finally defying their father to follow the man she loved. In fact, she and Electra were surprisingly alike. Irritating and opinionated, but somehow admirable. If Avery were here, she would advise him.

He got to his feet. His head hurt from trying to make sense of the woman. It had been an extraordinary day and now he needed to go to bed. He placed his glass on the mantelpiece and headed for the stairs.

He doubted there would be much sleep.

• • •

Sydney Town bustled with activity. Electra, too distracted by events on the dock to notice much of the town when she first arrived, now absorbed everything.

They passed a printer and then a produce store. There were vendors with brooms and boots, chickens and fish, calling their wares over the squealing voices of children at play. There were jewellers, hatters, a saddler, and a butcher hurling abuse at a thin, starving dog. This was the most activity she had seen in many months, and she drank it in like a wide-eyed child.

Finally, William brought the wagon to a halt at the back of a small building that butted against shops on both sides. As they disembarked, a door onto the back alley flew open. A rotund, rosy-cheeked woman frowned at the unexpected arrivals. Then smiled as she recognised William.

“It’s Mr. Radcliffe, isn’t it? Welcome, welcome to my establishment. I heard your wagon. What brings you here? And who is this?” she said without taking a breath.

“You are Mrs. Grenville?” The woman’s head nodded in rapid agreement. “It seems you are already acquainted with my name,” William said, with a nod of his head. “I’d like you to meet my wife.” The seamstress showed no surprise at this revelation. “She has only the clothes in which she stands and I require an entire wardrobe of outer and undergarments. Do you think you can manage it?”