by Jasmine Hill
Chapter Twenty-Four
William sat relaxing after dinner with a whiskey and a cigar while George Dawson outlined his latest plans for his property.
Dinner had been a pleasant affair that had given William the chance to examine any residual attraction that he might have felt for Margaret and he was beyond relieved when all he felt was a friendly attachment. She’d flirted with him, outrageously at times throughout dinner, to the point where William had grown concerned, but when he’d cast a glance at her father, he’d either not observed it or was studiously ignoring it. It was clear to William, however, that Margaret Dawson was throwing all her feminine wiles in his direction and he would have to tread with caution where she was concerned. He felt confident that his behavior thus far toward her had been nothing but courteous and polite, but after her performance earlier that evening, he could no longer ignore the fact that her feelings were obviously stronger. He then decided to take a step back and distance himself from any further unnecessary association with the Dawsons. It was true that he respected George Dawson and valued his acquaintance, but he didn’t want to be responsible for any feelings of ill will that an unrequited attachment might engender.
William took a sip of his whiskey and nodded in agreement while George continued discussing his plans but only listened with half an ear as he resumed his internal musings.
Margaret was young, probably a year or two younger than Lillian, and she would find a nice young man to attach herself to, so he just needed to be clear with her that it wouldn’t be him. He understood that, isolated as they were, it would be easy to fasten one’s affections to someone nearby and available, and he had no doubt that what Margaret felt for him was in the league of a harmless infatuation. Nevertheless, he’d have to nip it in the bud before Margaret got carried away.
George Dawson leaned forward and topped off William’s whiskey before his conversation took a different turn.
“Well, Cartwright, what did you think of dinner? My Margaret is an accomplished cook. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“It was a delicious meal and I complimented her on it.”
“She would make someone a good wife, eh?”
William narrowed his eyes and observed the other man over the rim of his glass. “Yes, I have no doubt she would.”
George grinned widely and took a large swallow of whiskey. “No doubt you must have thought about taking another wife. It must be lonely, a young, virile man like yourself.”
William coughed and tried not to choke on his drink, not fooled for a moment by Dawson’s deceptively casual tone. Fuck, the man has no shame. “I have not thought about it,” he said irritably and took a long, fortifying mouthful of liquor.
“Ah now, Cartwright, don’t be coy. There must be some young thing who has caught your eye?”
William studied George as he refilled his glass, wondering idly if the man was trying to get him drunk and, coming to the quick conclusion that he was, figured it was an obvious attempt to loosen his tongue.
“You know me, Dawson. Coy is not an adjective that I would ever use to describe myself.”
“Keeping your powder dry, eh?” Dawson said, tapping his nose conspiratorially.
“Not at all. I have no plans to take a wife in the near future.” He wasn’t about to divulge his personal life to George Dawson, even with the considerable amount of whiskey currently floating around in his system. He looked at his watch, conscious that he had an early start and not relishing the prospect of a four-hour ride on little sleep.
“Well, I should turn in,” William announced. “Thank you for your hospitality, Dawson.”
“Not at all. Any time,” he replied jovially. “It’s been good to catch up and I know that Margaret enjoyed the company.”
William nodded politely, shook the man’s hand then made his exit. The whiskey had started to catch up with him and his head was swimming as he made his way upstairs to his room. He undressed quickly and gratefully fell into bed and a deep slumber.
* * * *
He wasn’t sure what woke him. He struggled to sit up and was momentarily dazed by the unfamiliar environment. He peered around the dark room groggily and scratched his head, trying to determine what had disturbed his sleep. The room was in deep shadow, the curtain fluttering from the breeze through the open window. Perhaps it was a noise from outside. He sat, his back resting against the headboard, and shoved a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply. He hated being awoken suddenly. It always left him feeling twitchy and off kilter. He knew it was the after-effects of the war. Ever since then, it only took a slight noise or movement to have him rearing up in bed in readiness for quick action. It was getting better, though. At least now he didn’t automatically reach for his rifle and prepare to take cover.
He cursed quietly and lay back down, hoping he’d return to sleep quickly. It was then that a movement by the door caught his eye. He sat up again and shoved the covers aside before leaping out of bed.
“Who’s there?” he demanded. He reached toward where his rifle rested against the wall.
“It’s just me, William,” replied a feminine voice, breathless and hesitant.
“What the fu—?” He recognized the dulcet tones of Margaret Dawson. “Margaret? What the hell are you doing in my room? I could have killed you!”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Well, that’s what happens when you sneak into people’s rooms in the middle of the night. What do you want?”
He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for her explanation. He was very conscious of the fact that he was naked and cursed himself for not having had the foresight to at least sleep in his underclothes. He hoped to God that the room provided enough shadow to conceal his nudity. The last thing he needed was for her to fall into a fit of hysterics. That thought fled his brain rapidly, however, when he heard the strike of a match and saw the following flare as she touched the tip of it to a candlewick.
He sucked in a sharp breath as the room was brightened by a faint glow. What the fuck is she doing? He could see her clearly now, dressed in a sheer white gown that left nothing to the imagination, the candlelight illuminating her body through the gossamer fabric. Her full curves swayed voluptuously when she took a tentative step forward.
Christ, he had to work to keep his body’s natural reaction from rearing up at full attention and embarrassing the crap out of him. He shook his head, trying to clear his whiskey and sleep-addled brain, but even through his confused state, he couldn’t help but compare Margaret to Lillian. Lillian’s curves were delicately voluptuous and fit perfectly in his hands. He loved her long, silky hair, which he would weave through his fingers to grasp her head closer to his, and he adored her perfect rosebud lips that he ached to kiss every time he looked at her.
Margaret was certainly pretty and her figure, outlined enticingly as it was at that moment, was curvy and pleasingly plump, but the sight of her didn’t make his blood heat and his pulse roar in his ears. She was simply an attractive woman with a reasonable body, who was obviously trying her damnedest to seduce him.
He narrowed his eyes at her as she stared blatantly at his naked body and licked her lips, her gaze lingering too long on his cock.
“You have a magnificent body,” she said. “So much better than I imagined. You’re so hard and muscular.” Her voice had taken on a sultry note.
What the fuck? William’s mind raced while he worked out how to extricate her from his room without causing a disturbance.
“Margaret, you shouldn’t be here.” He spoke quietly and surely, hoping to telegraph through his tone that he wasn’t interested.
She walked slowly toward him, swaying her hips seductively. He would have taken a step back but the wall was behind him so he held his ground, his arms crossed defensively across his chest when it was clear she wasn’t going to leave easily.
“Remember those times we danced together, the walks we’ve shared? Think of all the times you’ve visite
d here. I know you were looking at me as more than an acquaintance, William.”
Shit, he’d at one time thought about perhaps taking things with her to another level but he’d always kept those feelings strictly to himself and had never been anything other than polite, if not even slightly reserved with her. How had she concluded that he might want her?
“I’m sorry if I’ve given you the wrong impression.” He kept his voice low and soothing. “But nothing can happen between us.”
She stopped in her tracks and fixed him with a malevolent glare, made even more hostile by the play of candlelight across her features. “Is it because of her? The bland little governess?”
William hardened his jaw and tensed. “Lillian is anything but bland. And this has nothing to do with her and everything to do with you misinterpreting my feelings toward you. I believe I’ve only ever acted in a friendly and courteous manner.”
“But everything changed when she came along. Before she arrived, you were attentive toward me. I thought you really liked me and wanted me.” Her voice had taken on a whiny quality and her lips trembled.
William sighed and ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. In truth, he hadn’t spent that much time in the company of Margaret and her father—such was the way of the outback—but he supposed that it would have been easy for her to have romanticized the time that he’d spent with her and have taken it to mean something it wasn’t.
Margaret placed the candle on the bedside table and, taking advantage of his brief silence, she stepped toward him, closing the distance between them until she was flush against his chest. The feel of her full breasts pillowed against his front had his cock rearing up automatically and he fought his body’s reaction before she took it to mean that he wanted to take things further.
He grasped her upper arms and pushed her back gently. “Margaret, please.”
“I can see that you want me, William. I want you too.”
Her blue eyes shimmered with lust as she reached down and gripped his cock firmly, pumping her fist up and down his length until he was once more rock hard. Christ, getting rid of her was going to be more difficult than he’d initially anticipated.
He grabbed her wrist. “Stop, Margaret. It isn’t going to happen.”
She smirked at him, waving her free hand over his crotch. “You’re aroused and you want me. You know I can make you feel good.”
He eyed her suspiciously and gripped her other wrist to deter her from touching him. This was not the behavior of an innocent virgin. It appeared that Margaret Dawson was accustomed to the arts of seduction and the realization startled him. It also made his rejection a little easier to do, knowing that she was not as naïve and vulnerable as he’d first thought.
“Margaret, let me be clear. I. Am. Not. Interested.”
He didn’t give her a chance to respond but released one of her wrists and, keeping hold of the other, he started tugging her toward the door.
She struggled to get out of his hold. “What is wrong with you?” she jeered. “I’m practically throwing myself at you and you reject me?” She laughed coldly. “Are you not interested in women?”
William finally reached the doorway with the seductress still in tow. “I’m very much interested in women. I’m just not interested in you.” He grasped her upper arms and lifted her so that she was no longer in his room but standing on the other side of the threshold.
“Goodnight, Margaret.” He quirked his lips in amusement. “It has been…interesting.”
He didn’t wait for her angry response but closed the door firmly in her face. Leaning against it, he breathed a deep sigh of relief and silently congratulated himself on diverting certain disaster.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Lillian gazed out of the window of the upstairs classroom. She’d been looking out for William’s return. She glanced at her watch. He should have been back over two hours ago. She supposed that something or someone could have detained him but Mrs. Thompson had been adamant that he’d planned to return early. It was a busy shearing time on the property and William hadn’t intended to leave for long.
She was worried about him.
She decided to call a halt to the day’s lessons. The hot, stuffy air in the little upstairs room was making the children fractious and grumpy. She could no longer hold their attention and her own attention level was little better.
She dismissed the children to play and went in search of Mrs. Thompson. She found her in the washroom and immediately voiced her concerns.
“What time did William plan to return? I’m starting to become worried.”
Mrs. Thompson frowned and glanced at her watch. “Twelve o’clock or thereabouts. Two hours ago.” She looked out of the window and worried her bottom lip. “It’s unlike him to change his plans. He knows we’d be concerned.”
“Where are the men?” Lillian inquired.
“At the northern end of the property. Too far away to get to them quickly and they move around quite a bit.”
Lillian gave the housekeeper a long look.
“I’m going in search of him,” she finally announced. “I’ll take one of the horses and start for the Dawson property.”
Mrs. Thompson wrung her hands. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? It’s been a long time since you’ve ridden. I don’t want to be worrying about you too.”
“There’s nothing else for it. The men are too far away and something could have happened to William on his way back here.” She patted the other woman on the shoulder. “I’ll be fine. Please don’t fret.”
The housekeeper didn’t look convinced but set off to the kitchen to pack some provisions as Lillian rushed upstairs to change into suitable riding attire.
In less than an hour, Lillian had saddled a horse and was ready to go. The readying of the horse had taken her longer than it should have. It had been a long while since she’d ridden, and she had only saddled a horse herself a few times. The heavy stockman’s saddle had been unwieldy but she’d eventually managed and she was confident that she’d fixed it correctly. The animal was an older mare and Lillian felt happy that she could handle her with ease.
Mrs. Thompson had packed her water, sandwiches and a Thermos of coffee. Lillian had also strapped a blanket to her saddle and included a basic medical kit with her provisions. She hoped fervently that their concern turned out to be baseless, but she wanted to be prepared.
She set out, following the fence line in the direction of the Dawson homestead. She told herself that she’d see William at any moment galloping toward her. But when an hour had passed then another, her hopes of seeing William safe and well had started to diminish. He could still be with George and Margaret Dawson but she knew that if he’d extended his stay, he’d have sent word. It would have been easy enough to send a message through one of Dawson’s men.
She stretched her arms and back. The unaccustomed position in the saddle was tiring and she could feel her muscles starting to seize. She’d just decided to stop for a break when up ahead she spotted Victory, William’s horse—without William in the saddle.
“Oh my God,” she breathed. Her heart rate jolted and cold fear gripped her. She kicked her horse into a gallop and raced toward Victory, praying that William was not badly hurt. He was an expert horseman and that fact worried her more than anything. It meant that something serious must have happened for Victory to be wandering around without his master astride him.
She bent low over her horse’s head and urged the animal into a faster gallop. Her pulse thundered in her ears and her breathing was heavy with dread as she neared William’s horse. Not far away, lying unmoving on the ground, she saw William. She skidded her horse to a halt, leaped from the saddle and ran toward him.
“William!”
He lay pale and still, a gash on his temple seeping blood. Her heart stuttered and she emitted an involuntary cry. Kneeling next to him, she checked his pulse and nearly swooned with relief when she felt it beating firmly beneath her fingers
. She lifted each of his closed lids and checked his eye movements then shook him gently. When he didn’t respond, she rose and hurried to her horse to retrieve her water bottle and the medical kit. She returned to William and, wetting a cloth, she pressed it to the wound on his temple. She poured more water onto another cloth and wiped William’s face and neck, hoping the cool fluid might revive him.
It was still hot and she had no idea how long William had been lying in the open under the fierce sun. She undid the buttons of his shirt and splashed water onto his chest.
When she removed the cloth from his temple, she was relieved to see that the gash had stopped bleeding and didn’t appear to be too deep. The medical kit held a small bottle of alcohol, which she used to douse his head wound. When the alcohol splashed across his temple, he groaned.
Lillian shook his shoulder gently. “William. William, it’s Lilly. Wake up.”
When he didn’t respond, she splashed more alcohol onto his wound and he hissed.
She peered down into his face and grinned happily when he opened his eyes. They looked a little glassy but at least he was conscious.
“What the fuck? Lilly?”
She pressed his shoulders down to ensure that he stayed still. “Yes, William. When you were so late returning home, I came looking for you. You must stay still until we check that you haven’t broken anything.”
He narrowed his eyes on her. “You came looking for me? Alone?”
“Well, what else could I do? All the men are on the other side of the property, mustering sheep.”
She stared down into his handsome face and breathed a sigh of relief at his awareness. He hadn’t shaved and the stubble on his jaw gave him a rakish edge. She shouldn’t be thinking about how attractive he was, but she couldn’t help it. Even lying on the ground with a head wound, he was the handsomest man she’d ever seen.
She shook herself into action. They needed to get moving before the day grew any later. “Have you broken anything? I don’t want you to move until we can be satisfied that you won’t do any more damage to yourself.”
