He drew her from the verandah and away from the brightness of the lanterns. They stepped across the gravel of the circular carriage track. Charles walked her on along the path that led towards the front gate between the neatly clipped lavender bushes. Somehow these hardy plants had survived the lack of water. Where the path curved around a Rubenesque statue, he stopped and turned to face her.
“I would like to talk to you, Georgina.”
Her heart sank. Not more talking. She was tired. “It’s very late, Charles.”
“This won’t take long.”
He took her hand in his. She fought the urge to snatch it back as he raised it to his lips and brushed it with a kiss. She blamed her mother for this. She had insisted Georgina be nice to Charles. The Wiltshires were friends and influential and Johanna had maintained her daughter should cease being churlish with Charles. Once Georgina had emerged from her shock at hearing of William’s child she had given in. There was no way she would ever have a husband but she was wise enough to know there were times when having a suitable escort was useful.
“I am eighteen now, Georgina.”
Charles scrutinised her with a desire she regularly noticed in his gaze. A shiver ran through her.
“It has been a wonderful night,” she said lightly, “but it’s getting late.”
He ignored her diversion. “I have been waiting for this night for another reason.” He took both her hands in his and got down on one knee. “I would like you to do me the honour of becoming my wife.”
Georgina gasped. Not just at the horror of his words but at the man who had appeared behind him. His hair hung in long tousled waves to his shoulders, where his white shirt was a contrast to the weathered darkness of his skin. William took another step and now she could see the desperation on his face, the longing in his eyes. Her heart leaped at the sight of him then realisation hardened it.
“What are you doing here?” she mumbled.
“What?” Charles looked around in surprise and jumped up. “Baker!”
William didn’t take his eyes from Georgina. “You can’t possibly be going to accept this ludicrous offer?”
“How dare you, Baker? Get off my property.” Charles puffed out his chest.
William still ignored him, his gaze fixed on Georgina. “I love you, Georgina. That has never changed.”
Georgina put a hand to her chest. She felt as if the air had been sucked out of her. “How can you declare your love for me and yet father a child with another woman?”
She watched the expression on his face change to outrage. “There is no other woman. I thought we cleared up that rumour.”
Georgina glanced at Charles, who had stopped his blustering. “I heard it from the woman herself. She had the babe in her arms and said you had … you had forced yourself on her.” Once more the pain of it stabbed her like a knife.
“Who is this woman?”
Georgina sucked in a breath and lifted her chin. “Her name was Jessie. She said you forced yourself on her.”
“She what?”
“Get off my property, Baker.”
Charles had found his voice again. He gave William a shove. Georgina’s heart broke to see the man she’d thought she loved stagger backwards, a look of puzzlement on his face. Charles grabbed her by the elbow and marched her back to the front door.
Someone had turned down the lamps and no light shone from the front room. “Georgina, please.” Charles’s tone was gentle. “You must listen to me. Come and sit down.”
She allowed him to guide her around to the side verandah where the chairs had been neatly lined up against the wall, but her heart was with William.
William had wobbled backwards until the fence had pressed hard into his back. The air was gone from his lungs and his mind spun with images of Jessie and her baby, how she had hardly met his eye when he’d been home.
“Mr Baker?” A voice whispered from the garden and a shadow moved, taking on the shape of a woman.
William’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”
She glanced behind her then back at William. “Edith Ferguson,” she whispered. “I work for the Wiltshires.”
He scowled. “Has Charles sent a woman to see me off?”
She put a finger to her lips. “Please keep your voice down, Mr Baker. Mr Wiltshire doesn’t know I’m here. My only intention is to help you if I can.”
“How can you help me?” William’s words rasped from his throat. He still found it hard to breathe.
“I know why Jessie told Miss Prosser her baby was yours.”
He straightened and sucked in a breath. “Why? How?”
“The how doesn’t matter, but I know Mr Wiltshire — Mr Charles Wiltshire — threatened to have her baby removed by the protector if she didn’t keep to her story that you had …” Edith squared her shoulders. The soft taffeta of her dress rustled as she leaned closer. “That you had forced her, and the baby was yours.”
A growl came from deep in William’s throat.
Edith glanced behind her again. “Please, Mr Baker. No-one must know it was me who told you.”
“Why have you?”
“The Wiltshires are my employers and I am very loyal to them. However, I don’t like injustice.”
William gave a snort. “You shouldn’t be working for Wiltshire then.”
“It’s Jessie and her baby who concern me. They should not be used in this way.”
The murmur of voices carried on the breeze. William turned towards the house and with a rustle of fabric Edith disappeared through the gate.
What was he to do? He couldn’t exactly storm into the house. All the same he walked in the direction of the front door. When he reached it he hesitated. Once more he heard voices, closer this time. He walked to the corner and there at the other end of the verandah was Georgina sitting on a chair with Charles kneeling at her feet. He strode towards them. They both looked up in surprise.
“You bastard, Wiltshire.”
“William.”
He ignored Georgina and snarled at Wiltshire. “Tell Georgina the truth about Jessie’s baby.”
“She knows the truth.”
“Your version.”
William turned to Georgina, who was regarding them both with dismay. “He blackmailed Jessie into telling you that story.”
“Blackmailed … why?”
Georgina looked from one to the other of them.
“Don’t listen to him,” Charles growled. “He’ll stop at nothing to get his way.”
“You are describing your own actions, Wiltshire. You’re the devil to frighten poor Jessie so badly. She lives in fear daily that the protector will take her child away.” William glanced at Georgina. “The child fathered by her lawful husband, Clem.”
Georgina’s face paled. “Charles?”
“You’re too good for the likes of Baker, Georgina.” Charles turned his back on William. “I have asked you to marry me.”
William looked over Wiltshire’s head to the face of the woman he loved. Was he too late?
Georgina stood. “I am not going to marry you, Charles.”
“A union of Wiltshire and Prosser. What a team we would make.” Even now there was pride in Wiltshire’s voice.
She shook her head. “I was never going to marry you. Our friendship was only for our families’ sake but now, I never want to see you again.”
“You would believe Baker’s word over mine?”
Georgina’s gaze met William’s. He was relieved to see she did believe him.
“I would take the word of the man I love over yours any day.”
Charles fell at her feet. “Please, Georgina. I’d do anything for you.”
“Stop it, Charles. I’ve had enough of your theatrics. Have you no shame for what you’ve done to that poor girl and to William’s name?”
Charles scrambled to his knees. “Baker’s name was worth nothing before I came along.” He glared at William with a look of pure hatred. “And that won’t change. I
f you align yourself with him your life will be a misery.”
Georgina stepped around him and took William’s arm. “I think we need some fresher air.”
“You’ll be nothing in this town without me, Georgina. People have only accepted you because of your connection with my family.” Charles’s threatening words rung in their ears as they walked away.
Every sinew in William’s body was tightly strung. The brush of Georgina’s arm against his sent a charge through him. When they reached the middle of the garden he stopped. She turned to face him.
“I’m sorry for what you’ve been through,” he said.
“I’m sorry I doubted you.” She looked him squarely in the eye. “I never will again.”
He reached for her and she was in his arms in a second, her lips soft and warm and sweet beneath his. The scent of her violet cologne mingled with the lavender on the breeze, and the silvery light of the moon shone over them as they clung to each other. Finally, he eased away. “We have to think clearly and I can’t do that with you in my arms.”
She cupped his cheek with her palm. “I never want to lose you again.”
He covered her hand with his. “You won’t, but if we keep that up I am afraid I won’t be able to stop.”
Her eyes shone wickedly in the moonlight. “Don’t then.” She leaned forward to kiss him.
“No, Georgina, you must return to the house.”
“What?” She took a small step back, her eyes searching his face.
“Dearest Georgina, I want you to be my wife and for us to be together always.”
“And I want you to be my husband forever.”
“It will be my honour.” He took a deep breath. “But tonight you must return to your mother. Life will be difficult enough for you being married to a Baker; we mustn’t add fuel for the gossips. My bed will be under a tree somewhere. You must stay here.”
Georgina slipped her arms around him and kissed him, then rested her head on his shoulder. “William Baker, you are an honest and honourable man. I’ve known that since I was a girl.” She looked up. “Once again I am sorry I allowed Charles to colour my judgement.”
“Don’t spoil this brief time we have with his name. He is nothing.” William’s breath was ragged in his throat. “When will you go home?”
“As soon as I can. I don’t want to spend any longer than I have to under the Wiltshires’ roof. And I suspect after my rejection of Charles I will no longer be welcome.”
“Then I will come and visit you at Prosser’s Run in three days. I must ask your mother’s permission.”
“I know you think you should but I doubt she will give it.”
“I must ask.” He pressed his lips to hers then eased her firmly away. “You go in, Georgina. Right now my thoughts are anything but honourable.”
She gave him that wicked look again, which did nothing to calm the raging desire within him.
“Very well. I’ll do as you ask this time, but I must warn you, William, I have become used to giving my own instructions.”
He grinned back. “I look forward to seeing more of that.”
She blew him a kiss and turned back along the path. Warmth filled his heart as she walked away. At last she would be his wife and make him the happiest man in the world.
Twenty-nine
Edith waited until the other two were out of sight then she stepped onto the verandah and hurried to where Charles was flopped on the floor.
“Oh, Mr Charles.” She crouched down beside him. “What has happened?”
She saw the surprise register on his face as she leaned closer and cradled his head to her chest.
“Are you all right?” Edith put on her sweetest, most breathless voice. “Should I go for the doctor?”
She felt him relax and nestle closer against her breasts. “No, Edith. That won’t be necessary. I tripped.” He cleared his throat. “Perhaps a little too much to drink.”
She smiled over his head. When she’d left William Baker she’d gone through her yard, into the Wiltshires’ back yard and along the wall. From her vantage point in the shadows she’d seen the whole confrontation between William, Charles and Georgina. Charles had still been on his knees when the other two walked away but he’d thrown himself to the verandah floor in a rage. She patted his cheek. “Perhaps you’d better rest here a moment then I can help you inside.”
“Thank you, Edith. You’re so very kind.”
Once more Edith smiled as he turned his head slightly so his forehead was against the plump flesh of the top of her breasts just above the neck of her dress. She had spent more money on the fabric for this dress than she’d spent on anything in her meagre wardrobe, but it had been worth it. She was much more well-endowed than the slim Miss Prosser, an asset she hoped would help Charles to forget the woman he had planned to marry and focus on the one he would marry.
“It’s not been quite the ending to the evening I had hoped for,” Charles complained into her dress.
“That’s all right, Mr Charles.” She stroked his cheek. “Every cloud has a silver lining.”
“Not this time, Edith.”
“Has something happened?”
“Miss Prosser has turned down my offer of marriage.”
“Good heavens, what an ungrateful woman.” Edith put a hand to her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr Charles,” she gasped. “I should not have said that.”
“Perhaps not, Edith.” He pulled away and studied her so closely Edith was worried he would be able to read her thoughts. “But I agree with you.”
She cast her gaze to the ground. “Any sensible woman would know what an exceptional offer you were making and accept at once.”
“Well, she has missed her chance.” Charles tugged at his jacket and drew in a deep breath. “I really should retire.”
“Of course, Mr Charles. Let me help you.”
Together they got to their feet, Edith making sure she brushed against him as much as she could. She offered her hand. “You’ve had a bit of a shock. Let me walk with you.”
A small shudder went through her at the lecherous look she saw on his face. She would have to be on her guard.
“I do feel a little wobbly.” He leaned on her arm and whispered close to her ear. “Thank you, Edith.”
They went in through the French doors. Edith left him a moment to close them then returned to help him cross the room. She knew he could easily manage alone but she was glad he accepted her help. In the hall he hesitated. Opposite was the door to his father’s bedroom. It was closed, and Edith wondered if Henry was within or sharing Flora’s bed.
They continued on, walking softly towards the kitchen, which was lit only by the light of the moon through the window. Charles hesitated at his bedroom door then swayed against her.
“I’m feeling suddenly light-headed, Edith. Would you mind helping me take off my jacket and boots?”
“Of course not, Mr Charles.”
He moved forward and sat heavily on the edge of his bed. She closed the door then lit the lamp. She looked down, remembering the book he kept hidden. She had taken any opportunity she could to read parts of it, and made herself very aware of the kinds of things she would need to do to keep his interest. Some of it disgusted her but Edith was determined she would do whatever it took to become Mrs Charles Wiltshire.
Her cheeks were warm as she turned back and kneeled at his feet, knowing he would be looking directly down at the flesh of her cleavage. She removed his boots then carefully slid his socks from his feet, allowing her hands to caress his skin.
He gave a small groan.
Edith looked up. His eyes were closed, a look of pleasure on his face. She slid one hand over his trouser leg and his eyes flew open. She stood and leaned forward, her fingers brushing his neck as she undid his bowtie.
“And now your jacket.”
Her breasts were almost in his face as she eased one arm and then the other from the soft fabric.
“Edith,” he groaned.
“Are you in pain, Mr Charles? Perhaps you hurt yourself when you fell.”
“No.” His voice was a throaty whisper. His arms went around her and he tumbled backwards onto the bed, drawing her on top of him. The bulge against her thigh left her with no doubt she had raised his desire. She had to be very careful now or all could be lost. She struggled but his arms were like a vice around her.
“Mr Charles, what are you doing?” Her heart pounded in her chest.
“Oh, Edith. How I need you.” He pressed his lips to hers.
She nipped his lip with her teeth and his eyes widened in surprise. It was enough for his grip to loosen and she scrambled to the floor.
Edith didn’t have to create the shocked look she gave him. She had been surprised at his strength. “Surely you would not take advantage of an employee, Mr Charles.”
He sat up and glanced past her to the door. She noted with satisfaction the discomfort on his face. “Edith — my dear Edith. I am so sorry.” He stood and gently took her hand and pressed it to his lips. “I don’t know what came over me. Please forgive me.”
“That’s all right, Mr Charles. You’ve had a shock tonight and a fall.” She lowered her lashes. “It’s just that I hope you don’t think I am the kind of person who would indulge in … behaviour only for married women.”
“Oh no, of course not, Edith. It was your beauty that overwhelmed me for a moment.”
“You know I would do … anything for you, Mr Charles, but … well, I am not a woman of the street.”
Edith bit back a smile as he sank to his knees. “Dear Edith, please forgive me.”
“Mr Charles.” She traced her fingers down the stubble of his face to his chin. “Please don’t distress yourself. There is nothing to forgive.”
He took her fingers, kissed them and stood up. Once more Edith was a little nervous at the size and strength of him as he stood so close.
“I must go now. My goodness, it will be morning in a few hours.”
“Of course.” He looked her in the eye, took her hands and raised them to his lips again. “But tomorrow we must take tea together.”
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