He touched his mouth to hers, then he leaned back. “But I’m married now.”
“And I’m poor now, just like you were. I’m at your mercy.”
“As I was at yours.”
“You surely don’t intend to pay me back for my thoughtless, stupid words all those years ago?” Her eyes widened.
He shook his head. “How could I suddenly lose a wife?”
“You’ve only been married for a week or two. Surely you could get an annulment.”
“Are you waiting for marriage?”
She shook her head. “I’m in no position to do that. I wouldn’t have objected if Richard had taken a mistress.”
He examined her gloved palm. “And you see yourself as being mine?”
“Why not? As I said, I’m poor now. I don’t have a single penny.”
“I was hoping for a rich widow,” he said with an evil grin, curling one of her ringlets around his finger. “I thought you would have inherited your father’s fortune.”
“Not even the family home. Richard shot himself.” She took his fingers into her lap. “My father scotched the scandal. He made sure the coroner found that Richard had been killed by an unknown intruder. He didn’t know about the money, then.”
Alasdair glanced into her glistening eyes. “What money? His or Richard’s?”
“My inheritance. After Papa lost the bank, he gave it to Richard to invest. The wrong ship sank, and with that Papa’s money. Mama inherited his house as his widow when he died, and she let me live with her. When Mary asked me to come to Adelaide... Oh, Dare. Tell me you love me. I need love so badly.”
He spanned the back of her neck with his hand. “If only you’d married me six years ago. I would have adored you and protected you for the rest of my life. As it is...I do love you, Lavender. Of course I love you.”
“How rich is Hamilton?”
“You’ll see as soon as you step inside his house. He can afford to indulge his every whim.”
“What if I’m his whim?” she said pettishly. “What if he wants to marry me?”
“You don’t have to make any decisions today. We’re here. I’ll walk you to the door.”
The carriage halted on Robe Terrace. Alasdair stepped out, rolled the steps down, and extended his hand to Lavender. She climbed out slowly, staring at Fredericks’s house. Two storied, the magnificent edifice faced the city parklands, a very prestigious position. A turret had been built on either side of the slate roof. She laughed aloud. “The frog prince resides in his version of a castle. What a shame one kiss won’t turn him into Prince Handsome.”
“He doesn’t need looks to be accepted into society. He had the right parents.”
Fredericks’s housemaid opened the front door. Lavender left Alasdair without even a wave.
Alasdair didn’t think of her again until Travers, his clerk, opened his office door. “Four-thirty, Mr. Seymour.”
“What? Oh.” He rose to his feet, remembering he had to collect Lavender. He should have been more sympathetic this morning after she’d bared her soul.
Shrugging into his jacket, he firmed his jaw. He’d committed himself to marriage with Lavender, but he couldn’t yet reconcile Starling’s position in his house.
He only had three more days with the wary little bird. In that time, he would have her and get her right out of his system.
* * * *
Hamilton Fredericks’s face almost split in two with the width of his smile at Alasdair. “Lavender has promised a perfect day for tomorrow. We thought...a picnic, perhaps?” Fredericks turned his gaze to the blond-haired beauty by his side.
“All of us, Dare. You and Starling, and Paul and Mary, too.” Lavender clung to Alasdair’s arm and turned her glowing eyes to his. “Hamilton’s cook has begun the preparations already. He’ll pick us up in his carriage at midday. Say yes, Dare, please say yes.”
“Yes.” Alasdair shook Fredericks’s hand. As a wife of an ambitious man, Lavender would be perfect. The lady could twist men of Fredericks’s ilk around her little finger. When Alasdair married her, he need no longer worry that Starling’s appalling treatment of her had lost him a valuable social contact. “Thanks, Fredericks. We’ll enjoy it. I’ll take this pest off your hands now. I’m sure she persuaded you into this.”
“I consider it an honor to be persuaded by a lady of such beauty. She tells me she won’t be returning to Melbourne.”
“No.” Alasdair’s eyes searched Lavender’s suddenly innocent expression. “I’ll find accommodation for her when Paul and Mary leave.”
“A hotel?”
“I can’t impose on Starling and Dare for the rest of my life.” Lavender heaved a sigh. “I’ll look around for a nice little house of my own during the next few weeks.”
“Nonsense,” Fredericks said. “I have a vacant house in... If it comes to that, Seymour has a...” Clearing his throat, he glanced at Alasdair, who quickly evaded the other man’s eyes. “My house in North Adelaide is ready for occupancy right now. It’s furnished, Lavender, and I insist that you use it.”
Lavender, lips pressed together, stared at Alasdair, too.
“We’ll discuss this at a more appropriate time, Fredericks.” He nodded formally at the other man, then he indicated the awaiting carriage to Lavender. Silence lingered on the way home.
He should have offered one of his city houses to Lavender. She had told him she had no money. But he didn’t want her in the only one presently vacant. He’d earmarked that for Starling the moment Lavender had said she didn’t mind her husband having a mistress. Starling couldn’t live on his forty pounds forever. Surely being a rich man’s mistress would be an acceptable position for a woman with few prospects.
He closed his eyes. He could only hope.
* * * *
The picnic day dawned bright and clear. The perfume of a thousand flowers scented the air, which throbbed with the humming of bees.
Alasdair toyed with the idea of staying in bed long enough to drape Starling across his body as he had with such success before. He’d never been so horny for so long in his life, but instead he stretched, rolled out of bed, pulled on his trousers, collected a clean shirt, and went down to the laundry to wash and shave.
“No. I won’t, Freda,” he heard Ellen say. “Every time she can, she sneaks out of the house to meet him in the stables.”
“Maybe she really is interested in plants.”
“She’s interested in what he’s planting under her skirts. You and me know that. We both know what they’ve been doing.”
“He says she’s a whore. Does it count if she’s a whore?”
Ellen laughed bitterly. “I’ve a mind to ask Mr. Seymour. Then we’d see who’d be smiling at who.”
Anger welled inside Alasdair. With no names mentioned, he had a very clear idea who “he” and “she” were. His damned whore imitation wife and the randy young gardener.
Mentally his fingers tightened around the soft, white, defenseless neck that too many times he’d wanted to touch with his tongue and warm with his lips. He clenched his hands on the laundry trough until the sinews ached.
Leave her to stew? He ground out a harsh, cynical laugh. No longer. The next time she flashed her four-shilling glance at him, he would give her satisfaction. A man as good-natured as Derry couldn’t provide what she needed.
* * * *
Starling dressed carefully, hoping she, like Lavender, could look gently born and cared for now that she had better clothes.
The green gown, made from a light, soft fabric, fitted as well as a bespoke outfit. The skirts looped at the back. Combined with her straw hat, the outfit suited well enough for a picnic.
She misted her new perfume over her throat. Regretting her hopeful smile, she shook her head. She shouldn’t have wasted a precious drop on trying to appeal, not when she would soon leave, luckily with nothing to regret.
After one last adjustment to a curl behind her
ear, she greased her hands. She couldn’t regret almost two weeks of pampering. With her smooth hands and nails almost to the ends of her fingers, she could be taken for a lady. Or, at least, not be taken for a menial worker. This was another gift from Alasdair, and one she could use.
Now with promised money, confidence, and new clothes she would manage taking on a business without needing to depend on anyone for support.
Alasdair’s smile surprised her when she arrived in the sitting room. Not for days had he relaxed his aloof attitude.
“You look nice today, Starling.” Lavender shot a glowing smile at Alasdair.
“She does.” He cast a possessive glance at the blonde’s lovely face.
Starling began to shake. These two made her feel like a slug on a lettuce. “There’s no sign of rain, I hope?” She walked to the window and moved the lacy covering aside. “Mr. Fredericks is turning into the carriageway now.”
In the brougham, Lavender seated herself between Mary and Starling. The men sat in the forward seat with Mr. Fredericks, who tried to hide the fact that Lavender’s concentration on Alasdair disappointed him. Starling wished she could give him what he wanted. She wished everyone in the world could have what he wanted because then she would, too.
For the picnic site, Mr. Fredericks had chosen Morialta Falls, sited at the end of a well-worn track into the bushland. The faint gushing sound of the creek over the rocky outcrop had the effect of building anticipation, and Starling enjoyed stepping through eucalypts so tall that she had to narrow her eyes and crick her neck to see the shady canopy at the top. The place looked like a green tent with shedding bark poles. Masses of delicate shrubs and flowers grew beneath the trees.
“South Australians are probably the only people in the world who can find entertainment in a filling creek bed,” she said to Mary, who laughed.
Two black cockatoos flew screeching overhead as Princess Lavender directed the gentlemen to set up the blankets under a single spreading eucalypt some distance away from the water. Lavender waited for her minions to serve her, and they did. The men helped her get settled in the most comfortable spot. They carried baskets to where she pointed. They arranged their bodies to shield her from the threatening sun and the wispy breeze. Even Paul joined in the competition, albeit with a silly smile on his face. When Mary frowned at him, he widened his eyes with innocence.
As the minutes ticked into a half hour and then an hour, Starling’s eyebrows began to lower. She’d been ordered to pass a glass to Lavender, fill the glass, hold the glass, shake the blanket while Lavender rearranged herself more prettily, stand, sit, move aside, and finally serve Lavender’s food. Not only did Alasdair treat her this way, but Paul did, too.
Mr. Fredericks tried tempting Starling with delicacies, but before she tasted a single tiny cucumber sandwich, either Alasdair or Paul interrupted with another order. Mary seemed to be deaf, dumb, and blind. Not a word did she say while her husband made as great an ass of himself as did Alasdair. Mary seemed to be engulfed in indolence as she trailed a leaf in the grass and relaxed in the sunshine.
“Let me serve you some of this sliced meat,” Mr. Fredericks said to Starling during a moment’s respite.
She smiled at him and lifted a glass of cider to her lips.
“Have you tried the strawberry sponge, Lavender?” Alasdair asked. Lavender shook her head. “Starling, would you mind? The knife is by your right elbow. Could you cut a slice for Lavender?”
Starling set down her glass, cut of a wedge of cake, and passed the delicacy on a plate to Lavender, who by now sat so close to Alasdair that with the slightest relaxation, her cheek would rest on his shoulder. Alasdair sat legs straight out in front, the weight of his body taken back on his elbows. A heel kicked into the center of his chest would topple him onto his back.
Starling resumed her former position and took the plate Mr. Fredericks offered.
“Are there almonds in that cake?” Alasdair asked Lavender. Instead of answering, she broke off a scrap and put the cake into his mouth. Although Starling had picked up a fork, she couldn’t swallow. Nothing would pass the lump of anger in her throat.
“This looks nice,” she said to Mr. Fredericks. Determined, she collected a wafer-thin slice of corned beef on her fork. “I’m so hungry I could—”
“Could you cut me a piece of cake, too?” Alasdair glanced at her, then he glanced back at Lavender’s cream-encrusted fingers, which she slowly surrounded with her mouth.
Starling placed her fork back on her plate. Carefully, she put her plate on the rug. Straight-shouldered, she leaned forward, cut a precise wedge, slid the cake onto a fresh plate, found a cake fork, and rose to her feet.
Three deliberately placed steps took her to Alasdair’s side. Only her eyes moved as she stared down at him. He held out an imperious hand. She considered him, the perfection of his sculptured face, the smooth-shaven chiseled jaw, the wide chest covered with a gray waistcoat. Her eyes drifted from the waistband of his buckskins to his firmly muscled thighs, his crossed legs, and focused on his highly polished shoes. She stared at his aloof face again.
He raised one eyebrow. “Do I have to starve while you admire me?”
“You’re a very handsome man.” She bent down, upturned the plate, and slammed the cream-filled cake against the juncture between his legs.
He spun out an oath in a voice of repressed fury. The impropriety of her action and the sudden thinning of his mouth gave her no choice other than to run.
Unable to pick up her skirts and uncaring of her hat, she dashed toward the safety of the trees at the bottom of the rise.
Chapter 18
Alasdair raced through the trees, crunching over dry leaves and small twigs littered across the undergrowth. Despite having to duck the lower branches, he gained ground on Starling. He took his pace down to a lope when he spotted her panting behind a red gum with bole wide enough to make into a dining table for twelve. The scene about to be played had an inevitability that took his steps to a stroll and his breathing to deliberate. As he drew nearer, he could hear Starling’s short, quick gasps. She had run quite a distance.
“I’m sorry,” she said between breaths. “It was an accident. My hand slipped.”
“It does that quite often. In bed at night...in the morning before I can escape you. You want me so badly that you can’t think of anything else.”
“I agree that you are an attractive man. Most of your employees think so, and I’m just as human as the rest. But I’m not available. Since you’ve never needed to pay for the services of a prostitute, why chase me?”
“Because I want you,” he said through his teeth. “You have to give your trust and when you do, you’ll be repaid tenfold. That’s the only way you’ll find the ultimate fulfillment. You won’t while you look at fucking as a transaction. Then being laid is just a job, not an emotional experience.”
“I don’t want an emotional experience. I can’t afford an emotional experience.”
“You can’t afford not to have one. When a woman slams a plate where you did, a man can be nothing but flattered. You could have rubbed the cake in my face, but you didn’t. You went for my groin, which showed me where your every thought leads.”
“You take the strangest actions as compliments.” She tilted her chin.
“You’ve given me every reason for confidence. You don’t resist when I kiss you. When I touch you, you melt. You like my hands on you. Just a nudge and you open your legs. Just a caress and you come. You’re wild for me, and yet every time I try to take the final step, you empty your mind of everything but money.”
She pushed from the tree. “Money’s important. Without it, people sleep in the gutter, wash in puddles, and wear rags. You live in luxury. You have a hot bath whenever you like, and you wear a clean shirt every day. You couldn’t possibly understand what it’s like to be cold and dirty.”
“Couldn’t I?” His mouth twisted. “I’m sure you weren’t col
d and dirty in the home.”
“Sometimes at night I was cold, but I managed to avoid being dirty. I didn’t really know about dirt until I left. In the outside world, dirt is a way of life.”
“You have to choose the life you want.” He took two steps closer.
“I know. And I have.”
“I don’t like you going to Derry. You told me that you didn’t want to earn your money like that,” he said, taking one last step right into her.
“I’ve never taken money from Derry.”
Her simple statement dropped him into a hole as deep as forever. For a moment, his jealousy stunned him. Then hurt took over and wound him into anger. “Swear to me you’re lying,” he said, his lips barely moving
Eyes averted, she shook her head. “I don’t want Derry’s money. You’ve promised me forty pounds, and that’s all I’ll need.” She put a hand on his chest to push him away.
“So I’ve been paying for Derry’s pleasure while foregoing my own.” He focused on her hand, no longer dry and chapped, no longer red or with chewed nails. Her hand looked white and delicate, yet she held him so easily. “You’ve played me for a fool for the last time. I won’t wait for your permission. I’ll have you now.” He put one hand on either side of her head on the tree trunk and pushed his body against hers, forcing her against the tree.
She jerked her head away but his mouth came down and kissed the side of her neck.
“Derry’s had no pleasure from me.” She angled her head away. Her shoulder bumped his chin. She stilled. “Alasdair, please believe me.”
“You’ve been seen. The servants know, probably everyone’s known from the start. Oh, no. They didn’t tell me. They’re too loyal. I overheard a conversation between Ellen and Freda. You’re breaking Ellen’s heart, but you don’t care, do you? But why should you? None of us means a thing to you.”
Frowning, lips pressed together, Starling stared at him. The fight went out of her and she sagged. “You’re wrong. You’re so wrong. I do care. I don’t want anyone to be hurt, least of all you. What do you want me to say? What do you want me to admit to?”
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