Daring Masquerade

by Margaret Tanner

  "I need to have my bloody head read," he growled.

  She loved him, she knew beyond doubt now. He didn't love her, probably didn't even like her. Misery washed over her. What she had thought the most wonderful thing to ever happen to her, obviously meant little more to him than assuaging his male need. A decent, upright man like him would be consumed with guilt, but she needed more from him. Much more. Oh, Gil, forgive me for thinking of myself right now.

  Ross cursed to himself as he stood staring straight ahead. He had completely lost control. Harry goaded him beyond endurance, flaunting her exquisite little body right under his nose, and he succumbed to the temptation. Her brother was recently dead. He felt absolutely despicable. Poor little Harry, demented with grief and he had behaved like a rutting stallion.

  Shame overwhelmed him for the cavalier way in which he took her virginity, like a schoolboy having his first sexual encounter with a woman. Worst of all, he felt little for her except sheer, craven lust. She had cried out her love for him. Tried to show how much she cared by letting him use her body. In her innocence thinking this would erase the bitterness from his heart. It hadn't. It still laid there, a poison chalice spilling out just a little at a time, all the more corrosive because of how long it had dwelled within him.

  The decent thing to do was offer marriage. In fact, he couldn't do anything else under the circumstances, but make the arrangements as soon as possible. Harry did not know it, but she was being short-changed. She would get a husband to care for her. Materially she'd want for nothing, but there would be no love. He was incapable of giving it to her because of Virginia. Inwardly he wept because she deserved more than this. Brave, reckless Harry had gambled and lost.

  "Are you decent?" he asked finally.

  "Yes."

  He turned around to face her.

  "Don't blame yourself." She clutched at his hand. "It was my fault. I thought if you, well…"

  "I know what you thought." Bitterness filled his soul. Remorse overwhelmed him for what he had done. "It didn't work, though. Physically I enjoyed what we shared. Emotionally, I think I'm dead."

  "Oh, Ross," she whispered.

  He gazed into her troubled eyes. Pain constricted his heart because he couldn't give her what she needed.

  "As soon as I can make the arrangements, we'll get married, but Harry, don't expect too much from me. It will only make things harder for you."

  "You don't have to offer marriage," she said in a hurt little voice as she walked beside him. "If you'd rather not."

  "For God's sake. I might have given you a child."

  "A baby?" She patted her stomach. "Do you think so?"

  "It's possible."

  "We could wait and see, if you like."

  "There's no time. We'll get married. I owe you that much at least. It won't be an easy life with me, though."

  Her eyes widened, her lips trembled.

  "I don't mean I'll beat you up, but I'm hot tempered. I get into black moods and need to be alone. God, Harry, you deserve better than what I can offer."

  "I'll take my chances, as long as you don't betray me with another woman. I couldn't forgive that."

  "I wouldn't expect you to, but it won't happen. If I see you with another man, I'll kill him, so help me."

  "There's only two men I'll ever love," she said fiercely. "One of them is dead."

  He felt the warmth drain from his face at her impassioned words. He reached out and stroked her cheek with a slim, work-roughened finger.

  "Hopefully, I'll be able to give you a child to love. If we have a son, you can name him Gilbert."

  A flare of hope ignited her eyes. She refused to believe the truth, but he couldn't feel anything for her.

  "Now, let's get back to the hut and have mug of tea." He forced normality to his tone.

  After their tea, Ross went to catch some rabbits. She squatted near the fire and started preparing a damper. She would cook potatoes in their jackets once the coals burned down.

  He returned half an hour later, carrying a pair of rabbits already skinned and gutted. They sat under a tree without speaking for a time.

  "We'll need to see your aunt," he said.

  "What for?"

  "You're under twenty-one. We need her consent. You don't think she'd withhold it?"

  "No, we aren't close. She's an old spinster. Her and my dad fell out years ago." Harry grimaced. "She didn't like me much, I wasn't ladylike enough. She called Gil a lout, although she did knit him some socks when he was on Gallipoli."

  "Well, some old dear knitted me a woolen hat." He grinned. "Bloody useless, of course."

  "Her heart was probably in the right place."

  "Undoubtedly, but every man wanted tinned food and tobacco. The army rations were terrible most of the time."

  "Can you talk about what happened over there?"

  "It's best forgotten."

  "No, it isn't. Talk to me. It will help."

  "I can't forget, but I don't want to talk about it either."

  "Ross."

  "Mm."

  "Let's spend the night up here together."

  "No, it wouldn't be right."

  "It will give us a chance to get to know each other better."

  He fought an inward battle with himself.

  "Please."

  "Impulsive, willful, Harry, I fear for you."

  "We can stay?"

  Harry went to him so trustingly, slipping her arm through his and rubbing her cheek against his chest. "You can teach me how to please you."

  He could hardly believe his ears. Young ladies from his social circle didn't make such comments.

  "I found some wild violets in a little secret valley not far from here. Do you want me to take you to see them?"

  "It wouldn't be a secret if you told me," he teased, feeling lighthearted for the first time in months. "Let's go for a walk."

  The air hung heavy with the perfume of wild flowers and musk trees. Climbing on to an overhanging ledge he rested his hand on her shoulder and stared down into the valley. Far in the distance his homestead looked like a doll's house.

  "You can still find snow in the crevices on the highest peaks even in summer," he explained.

  "Have you ever gone to the top?"

  "Yes, but it's a good day's climb from here. You can ride only so far, then do the last few miles on foot."

  "I'd like to go."

  Her enthusiasm pleased him, gave him hope that they might have some kind of a future together. "When the war is over we'll go together. There's a hut right near the top so we could camp out for a few days."

  "Why do we have to wait until the war is over when we could go straight away?"

  "There's something I need to say to you." Time to tell her now and he could not believe how hard it was.

  "You've changed your mind about marrying me?" She clutched his arm.

  "No." He spun her around to face him. "I'll be going back to the army in a few weeks."

  Her lovely eyes filled with tears. He recognized the effort it cost her to blink them back.

  "Why?" she whispered fearfully through trembling lips.

  "Because it's my duty."

  "You've done your bit."

  "I'm a field officer. They need me in France."

  She did not argue with him, but looked so tragic it almost broke his heart.

  "Why do all the decent men feel duty bound to fight, when the no-hopers and shirkers don't?"

  He shrugged. "Time we started back."

  Taking hold of her hand, he helped her down from their eyrie in the sky. By the time they made it to the hut, the sun had set in a fiery ball turning the mountains red. Parrots in a multitude of colors perched and squabbled on every tree. Flocks of wild ducks flew in arrowhead formation against the sky.

  He threw a couple of large logs on the campfire outside his hut. The damper and potatoes cooked in their jackets never tasted so good. He broke the rabbit into pieces and skewered them on to a steel rod propped ov
er the coals.

  Except for the crackling of the fire and a mopoke calling out in the darkness nearby, silence surrounded their camp. The smoky smell of the fire, the earthy perfume of damp grass filled his nostrils, while the orange flames flickering in the darkness cast a spell over the mountain.

  "Let's sleep here under the stars," Harry whispered, not wanting to break the aura enveloping them.

  He did not speak, just disappeared into the hut and returned with their blankets and bedrolls, which he laid out near the fire. In the hazy light thrown out by the embers, she floated into his arms.

  His gentle hands eased her away so he could remove her clothes, then his own. They stood together swaying like ghost dancers, with the mountains transformed into black pyramids towering over them in the background.

  Nothing hurried about his lovemaking tonight. He feathered kisses from her shoulders down over her breasts until he reached her hip. His tongue caressed her belly button before continuing the downward journey.

  Crushing her body against his own, he nuzzled into the soft flesh behind her ear. Excitement, and an all consuming, primitive need rose from deep within. The hard thrust of his maleness pressed against her stomach. His breathing increased, his heart pounded as he lowered them on to the blanket he had so recently spread out over the ground.

  She lay flat on her back, and he draped one leg over her to keep her close. As they faced each other in the darkness, Harry put her mouth on his nipple. She heard the sharp intake of his breath as she started licking it in a slow circular motion. He cupped her breast in his hand, using his thumb to work her nipple into a sensitive peak.

  She raised her head and his lips claimed hers, tentative at first, tasting and flirting then hardening into passionate demand. His tongue slipped inside her mouth to plunder and explore the inner depths. Her head spun. Blood stormed through her veins, red hot, like molten lava. A burning, wanting need seared the deepest part of her womanhood. This white hot need could only be extinguished by Ross.

  He rolled on top of her, supporting himself on his elbows with his hands resting on her shoulders, then he thrust his hard, silken shaft into her moist, hot core. He moved slowly, deeper and deeper into her throbbing body until the two separate entities became one.

  "Ross," she moaned. "Please."

  Still he held back, until finally with one last powerful thrust he exploded inside her. Tears of emotion filled her eyes. Some instinct must have alerted him, as it was too dark for him to see, but his tongue came out and gently licked them away. If only he loved her, this would be a magical night.

  She closed her eyes. On the gentle night breeze blowing down from the highest peaks she heard Gil's spirit whispering from the shadows. "Be happy."

  I love you. She rested her face against his hair roughened chest. "I hope we made a baby tonight."

  "Don't talk now," he said, sounding drowsy and satiated. The slept, their bodies entwined.

  * * *

  Ross woke as the first faint flush of dawn colored the gray sky pink. He eased himself away from Harry whose small, warm body was curled up tightly against his own, and he reached for a blanket to cover her nakedness. She was exquisite, he thought, staring down at her. Why then could he only feel physical passion for her? He wanted to give her more, but somehow couldn't. A deep sadness overwhelmed him.

  "You deserve more than I can give you," he whispered.

  If he could get her pregnant before he left for the front, it would give her something to focus her love on. A child would love her absolutely, unconditionally. Apart from financial security, a baby was the only thing he could give her.

  He threw a log on the still glowing embers before hooking the billycan on a forked stick over the fire to boil. Going inside the hut, he rummaged around for something to eat. Tins of beans would have to do. He wanted a quick breakfast so they could make an early start.

  They needed to head for Benalla straight away. The sooner he got her aunt’s consent the better. It was imperative for them to marry immediately. If he did not present himself to the army voluntarily, they would soon send for him. He dared not risk being sent overseas before doing the right thing by Harry.

  When he came back to the fire she sat up, rubbing her eyes.

  "Good morning," he said. "You slept in."

  "Sorry." She pushed her fingers through her hair.

  "Go and have a wash. I left a basin of warm water in the hut for you. I want to start back after breakfast."

  "Why?"

  "Because we need to get to Benalla as soon as possible to see your aunt. Hurry up, otherwise breakfast will be ready before you are."

  As soon as they finished eating, they tidied up and started down the mountain.

  When they arrived at the homestead they rode straight to the stables and Jack came out of one of the stalls. "Ross. My God! Harry! So, you were the swagman up at the outstation?"

  "Yes."

  "I'm happy to see you, my dear, but you took a risk staying up there on your own."

  "I feel close to Gil at Devil's Ridge. I went up there to mourn him, and decide what to do with the rest of my life."

  "What about you, Ross? Did you make a decision?"

  "Yes. Harry and I are getting married."

  "Congratulations." Jack clapped Ross on the shoulder. "Best news I've heard in months."

  "You think it's a good idea?" Jack's ready acceptance took him by surprise. He always valued the older man's opinion. They thought along similar lines on most things, except Virginia. Jack detested her and the hatred had been mutual.

  He's a jealous, vindictive, old man who wants you for himself, Virginia always said. Being so besotted, he had believed her. This had spoilt their relationship for a time. When he embarked for the war, Jack kept the station going for him, had been his lifeline to sanity after he returned from Gallipoli.

  Ross pulled himself up. He should stop torturing himself over Virginia.

  "I didn't think you'd approve," Harry said.

  "Why wouldn't I?" Jack's eyebrows formed peaks of enquiry. "You're a generous hearted little soul, and you've got guts. You're a lucky man."

  Harry threw her arms around Jack's neck. "Thank you. I'll make Ross a good wife, I swear I will."

  "I know you will, my dear. Proud to have you as part of the family."

  When Harry finally released Jack from the bear hug, she stepped back a pace. She chanced a glance at Ross and he stood rigid, his face set into somber lines.

  "Forget the past, son. Carve out a new life for yourself and Harry."

  "I don't know whether I can."

  Harry heard Jack's shocked intake of breath.

  "Don't marry her feeling like that. You'll only break her heart."

  "I know how he feels," Harry murmured. "I still want to marry him."

  "For God's sake," Jack exploded, venting his anger on his nephew. "Her brother has just been killed and left her all alone in the world. Of course she would cling to you. There's no one else. You can't do this to her. She's little more than a child."

  "She's a woman."

  "Bloody hell."

  "It wasn't meant to happen." Ross' face turned red with embarrassment and Harry shuffled her feet. "We spent the night up there. It just happened."

  The old man snorted his distaste.

  "I feel like a real bastard. You understand don't you, Harry?"

  "Yes," she whispered, but she was not so sure now. She hadn't mentioned it to him, but he had cried out for Virginia in his sleep last night. He still loved this other woman, probably always would.

  "You could have something special with Harry," Jack said. "If you'd only let yourself. Will this alter your plans about rejoining the army?"

  "No. I've already told you of my decision, haven't I, Harry?"

  "Yes, but I wish you'd change your mind."

  Glancing at Jack, Harry realized he could see the fear in her eyes. Did he also see the love she felt for his nephew? Or was his welcome fueled by desperation for De
vil's Ridge to have an heir?

  "I don't know why we're standing here at the stables." Ross broke the silence hanging over all three of them. "Let's go to the homestead. Mrs. Bates can make us some tea."

  "Mrs. Bates?" Harry queried, scuffing the ground with the toe of one boot.

  "My housekeeper."

  "You said you lived alone."

  "I do. She has a small cottage out the back. Being an old lady, I don't expect her to do anything much, but she likes to think she's useful."

  "Do you have any other servants?"

  "Not anymore. I'm hardly ever here." He shrugged. "I can look after myself. Jack doesn't want to move in with me."

  "How many times have I told you? I'm happy in my own little place."

  In the front yard, a huge oak tree grew, its branches spreading in a massive arc almost the full width of the homestead. Lavender bushes formed a border on either side of the gravel pathway, and she inhaled the perfume wafting on the air. The lawns looked lush and green, the garden beds full of colorful flowers and shrubs. Roses of every imaginable hue adorned one bed.

  The homestead was constructed from tongue and groove whitewashed weatherboards. A verandah encircled the whole of the house. Jasmine entwining around the verandah posts had scrambled up on to the roof. The heavy perfume would have been cloying except for a slight breeze that dissipated the smell.

  A red and blue fan light with matching side panels arched over the door. Here on the verandah it was shady and cool. Ross pushed the door open, standing back so she might precede him inside.

  They entered a long hallway lined with three inch tongue and groove boards stained a warm, honey color. Harry had time to notice this before Ross ushered her into a sitting room.

  "Have a seat. The place is rather on the shabby side." He waved his arm about. "Needs a woman's touch, I suppose. Mrs. Bates is too old to do much, other than the most basic things. I'll see about our tea."

  He strode off, leaving her with Jack.

  "Listen to me," Jack said in a low, serious tone. "Ross is a good, decent man who will always look after you, but he's bitter. You won't have an easy time of it, I'm afraid."

  "I know." She touched his arm. "You've guessed that I love him, haven't you?"