Timeless Passion: 10 Historical Romances To Savor (271 page)

Too soon, they reached the path leading back to the paddocks of Riverside. They held each other’s hands for a moment and then without a sound, Yaraay disappeared back into the bush.

As the homestead came into view, Electra’s thoughts turned back to William. She decided to tell him where she had been. It was important not to practice deceit, and besides, she wanted to share what she had experienced with him. Thoughts of sharing with William inevitably took her mind to the intimacy they had not yet shared. As his wife, it was an inevitable occurrence. To be honest, she had to admit it was beginning to feel less like a duty. When William touched her, it stirred something unfamiliar to her that was at once exciting and alarming, but never seemed finished. She yearned to find out what it was.

• • •

William, back from a trip to Sydney, paced furiously across the library floor. Every few minutes he craned his neck at the window, hoping to see his wife return. He had stopped for an ale after completing his errands in town and found himself in conversation with a Lieutenant John Clarke who had sailed with Electra on the
Liberty.
The man, weaving and stumbling, approached him as if already acquainted and introduced himself, slurring his words. Clapping a hand on William’s shoulder, the lieutenant congratulated him on his marriage. And then said something very strange.

“I’ll bet the captain is not too happy with the arrangement though, eh?”

William told him the captain appeared very pleasant and had been invited to visit his home.

The lieutenant lifted his ale in a salute and, slopping it onto the table, said, “You’re obviously not too bothered about having his leavings then, Mr. Radcliffe.”

William knocked the ale out of his hand and landed a well-aimed punch on the man’s nose. Then he slammed out of the alehouse. He didn’t know if he was angrier with the man’s impudence or with Electra denying him what she had so obviously given to the captain. How could he have been so wrong about her?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her voice.

“William, are you in there?” she tapped on the library door.

He went to the door and locked it, too angry to face her yet. “Yes. I don’t want to be disturbed. I will see you at dinner.”

He listened to her footsteps fade down the hall and turned back to his desk. It was no good, he could not concentrate on other matters. The sooner this matter was settled, the better.

• • •

William had washed and changed out of his loose cotton work breeches into brown fitted trousers and a white linen shirt with a waistcoat. With his thumb hooked into his waistcoat pocket, he paced the drawing room floor. Right, he muttered to himself, we’ll sort this out once and for all. Does she imagine I’m to be played for a fool? To think they were waving it under my nose at the governor’s dinner and I invited the man to visit. God damn her and her cunning wiles. Either I claim my rights as a husband tonight or I have the marriage annulled. It’s a damn good thing I don’t care about her. He caught sight of his face in the mirror above the fireplace. It was pale and wretched looking.

“I’m sorry, William, were you talking to me?”

He swung round, his jaw clenched, and ready to issue his ultimatum. The words caught in his throat as he watched her enter. Her soft white muslin gown clung to her long slender legs as she walked.
Good Lord, he would swear she wore no undergarments beneath her gown.
With difficulty, he tore his eyes away from the outline of her thighs and fixed them on her shining, red-gold curls, gathered softly in a knot at the nape of her neck. Threaded through the knot was a pure white flower. She was a mixture of childish innocence and sensual womanhood, and her wide golden eyes pleaded for his approval. He groaned at the effect this virginal apparition was having on him.

Oblivious to his discomfort, she reached out and gently stroked his face. Then, seeming nervous, spoke quickly of her intentions.

“Please don’t think me bold but I have something I must say before I lose my courage.” He nodded, still unable to force a sound past his lips. “I would like us to have an intimate dinner, share our day with each other and then if you’ll have me, I want to come to your bed.”

The power of speech finally returned. “Good Lord, how do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Just when I think I’m in control of this relationship, you turn everything upside down and do the unexpected.”

She smiled. “Oh, do I?”

“You do.” He released a rush of breath and reached for a bottle. “Would you like some wine?”

She nodded and held out her slender hand to take the glass.

“Well, you haven’t answered. Would you have me?”

He looked at her and swallowed. Until this afternoon, having her in his bed had almost become an obsession. And now she was offering herself to him. He struggled to hold on to his anger and determination. “We’ll see,” he rasped.

She turned away, embarrassed.

Seeing the disappointment on her beautiful face, he was tempted to reach for her and remove any doubt she might have of his need. Instead, he moved to the dining room, sternly reminding himself of her deceit.

Shi Liang had made a stew of wild duck and peaches with greens from the garden. His unusual combinations of food meant dinner was always a surprise. At first Electra had been hesitant with the unusual dishes, but now seemed eager to sample each new concoction. However, tonight she picked at her meal, casting sidelong glances at William.

Although the shadow of her promise hung over the table, Electra seemed to have other matters she wished to discuss with William. As she still didn’t speak, he supposed she was waiting for him to invite her to do so.

“Did you have a pleasant day, Electra?” He forked up his duck.

“You recall I was going for a ride again today?” She pushed her food around the plate.

“Yes, you told me. Where did you go?” She swallowed and avoided his gaze. “Please don’t tell me something I’m not going to like.”

“I’m afraid it might upset you just a little. But give me time to tell you all of it before you make judgment.”

He grudgingly agreed.

“I went to the native camp in the forest past the west paddock.”

“Electra! You went to Pretty Creek Camp?”

“William, you promised.”

He shook his head, puffing air out his cheeks, and she continued.

“I had made contact with one of the women the last time I went into the bush. I wanted to find her again and I did. There were three women and four children and they were wonderful. I had fallen and cut myself,” she held out her hand and William grasped it, frowning at the injury. “See how good it looks? They treated me with a sticky substance from the bark of a tree. We communicated with hand signals and, William, it was one of the most exciting experiences I have ever had.”

He knew she wanted his approval of her adventure and was struck by her childlike excitement, but he could not let go of his anger.

“You were lucky. It is very dangerous now that so many of the blacks have been hurt or killed by the settlers. They’re scared and angry and will use their spears before asking questions.”

“I know and I thought I would be so scared. In fact, two of them threatened me with spears.” Williams eyes widened. “But it was all right,” she said hastily. “The third one, Yaraay, told them I would not harm them.”

He frowned. “Frankly, Electra, I’m not sure what to think. I am annoyed that you put your life in danger and cannot think what would make you go barrelling off into the bush to make contact with these women.”

He could see the light fade from her eyes as he spoke, but he could not stop.

“One day I think I’d like to get up in the morning and know what to expect from you.”

“My father always said I was many things but never boring. I was not really sure if it was a compliment or not.”

“I would hazard a guess that it was not.”

She looked at him, obviously hurt at his response, but then left the subject alone. The enthusiasm left her face.

Mary cleared the table and without speaking, they moved to the more comfortable armchairs in the sitting room.

• • •

Electra was not sure why William seemed so grim. What did he want from her? Could he still be so angry at her actions by the fire that he would refuse her offer? How humiliating to be rejected the first time she offered herself to a man. Perhaps he found it impossible to imagine intimacy with a convict, even a pardoned one. This thought was too much to bear. She stood to leave.

“Where are you going? You made me an offer and I’ve decided to accept it,” he snapped.

She gasped and spun to face him. “What are you saying?”

William pushed up from his chair and heading for the door, spoke over his shoulder. “I’m saying it’s time to show me what you can do. I’ll be waiting in my bedroom for you.”

Electra was stunned. The first time was supposed to be loving and gentle, but William made it sound cold and mechanical. Did he think she was a show pony who would perform for him? She was tempted to reach for the poker and do him more damage.

But the fact remained, he was her husband and could claim his conjugal rights if he so chose. Taking a deep breath, she decided two could play at this game. She would give him what he wanted, although she was not quite sure yet what that was. But her heart he would not have. She left the room and slowly climbed the stairs.

Not bothering to knock, she pushed open the door to his bedroom. William sat on a chair by the window, his face obdurate.

“Ah, you have come to perform your wifely duty I see. Undress slowly while I watch.”

What punishment would she get for murder, she wondered? Probably hanging, and he wasn’t worth it. Well, she might as well get this over with. Brushing away a tear, she tried to unbutton the back of her gown, but could not still her shaking hands. She fumbled angrily with the buttons until he languidly strolled over, pushed her hands away, undid the buttons, and went back to his chair. With a slight tug on each shoulder, the gown slid to the floor. By this time, Electra had decided if he wanted a show, she would give him one, the pompous brute.

• • •

As he suspected, she wore neither corset nor pantaloons. William could see the outline of her round, pointed breasts, and the small mound between her legs through the sheer silk of her shift. As he watched, his breathing became shallow and heat suffused his neck and cheeks. Her hands reached up to loosen the knot in her hair, causing the shift to stretch across her breasts. The red-gold curls tumbled chaotically down her back and over her shoulders. As they fell, she deftly slipped the shift down her arms and let it slide in a pool to the floor.

In all of William’s imaginings, he had not known she would be so impossibly beautiful. Her skin was the colour of milk and her breasts were soft and round, with the most delectable rose-coloured nipples. That enchanting tumble of hair draped seductively around her left breast and if he did not remove his trousers immediately, he thought they would burst.

He threw off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt while she stood motionless, watching. As he removed his trousers, he saw her gasp, wide-eyed at his arousal. Obviously, the captain had not been memorable, he thought. In two steps, he reached her and brought his lips roughly to hers, prying open her mouth with his tongue and probing hungrily. He picked her up, carried her to his bed and placed her on her back. With his eyes devouring her body, he positioned himself over her.

As he looked down, he was surprised to see fear reflected in her golden eyes. He stilled. Did she think he would hurt her? Had the captain hurt her? At the reminder of his predecessor, his hesitation was obliterated by an overwhelming urge to dominate her completely, to wipe out any evidence of the man. She was his wife and he needed to possess her, to mark his territory.

Her eyes were riveted to his face and she seemed unsure, needing direction. “Put your legs around my waist,” he commanded harshly, his mouth moving against her hair.

He traced his tongue from the shadow of her soft ear down her throat and onto her breast. Lifting the milky orb to his mouth, he began to lick and suck until her nipple strained toward him. Despite her determination to remain passive, he felt her body lift toward his, and heard her soft moan of pleasure. He could sense her mind fighting the domination, but her body betrayed her as she clung to him, shuddering with her desire. At their contact, he took a searing breath and heard a low groan from somewhere deep in his throat. His urgency was both thrilling and unnerving.

Grasping her hand, he guided it to his arousal. Her tentative touch spoke of innocence and her trepidation only served to heighten his desire.

She breathed into his ear, “Please, tell me what to do.”

What? Was she going to pretend virginity? Angrily, he grasped under her buttocks growling, “Is that what you said to the captain?” She squirmed under him; her hands, which had held him to her, became fists and she beat at his chest. Each time she tried to speak, he captured her mouth with his and burnt her lips with his scorching need.

Suddenly she bit hard into his bottom lip and he reared back. She gasped, “No. Stop. Please … I’ve never … ”

Shocked, he rolled her to his side, gasping for breath, the realization of what he had nearly done draining the madness from him.

“My God, Electra, you’re a virgin? I thought you and the captain — oh God, how can you ever forgive me?”

Chapter Ten

“Electra? Ye look like ye’ve spent the night in a byre.” Shelagh pulled her into the cabin and nudged the door shut with her elbow.

Electra didn’t care what she looked like. She may never care about anything again. An attempt to speak sent her lip quivering as she fell into Shelagh’s outstretched arms. Her sobbing was loud and convulsive, but Shelagh held her until it was done. Then wiped Electra’s face like a child and set the kettle to boil.

Taking a deep breath, Electra began to speak. “I don’t think I can forgive him for what has happened.”

“Come and sit. I’ll make the tea and ye can tell me all about it, lass,” said Shelagh.