The Horseman

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The Horseman Page 25

by Margaret Way

After the horses came the lengthy discussion on programs, with breeding charts produced. Cecile found herself a little light-headed from the flight, so she returned to the homestead to enjoy a quiet talk with Val. They were old friends, so the time passed. quickly.

  “Well, what’s the verdict?” Joel asked as they drove away a couple of hours later.

  “It’s a splendid property, Joel,” Rolfe, at the wheel, answered. “Jock is a good man. You must value him highly.”

  “I do, but I, happen to know Jock is just about ready to retire. He’s well into his sixties now. He and Val have always spoken about traveling. You wouldn’t have long to wait to do your own thing.”

  “I would want to,” Rolfe said, making that clear. “Some of my methods are quite different from Jock’s. I’m not saying better; Jock is obviously doing all the right things, but different. You’re being incredibly generous to me, Joel. Let me think about this.” He caught Cecile’s silver eyes in the rear view mirror.

  She knew then she held the answer. She had to think no more to give it. Hadn’t Rolfe’s eyes told her, “I will always always love you.”

  FIRST LIGHT WOKE HER. No point in lying there. She rose quickly, then fell back on the bed again, shocked by the wave of nausea that rolled through her stomach. She lay back, waiting for the sick feeling to subside. Mercifully it did. She tried to tell herself it was a quick drop in blood pressure. Or maybe she’d caught ‘a bug. She’d been feeling vaguely off color and light-headed for days, without her usual energy. It could have been a bug, but she knew better. Regular as clock-work she had missed her period. She had waited a week for it to make its appearance, but she knew it wasn’t going to.

  She was pregnant.

  A blood test would confirm it. She had pretty much invited it. She had been so emotional after her estrangement from Rolfe she had stopped taking the pill. Her love life was a disaster, wasn’t it? She had subsequently gone back on the pill, but she’d known at the back of her mind she was putting herself at risk the night Rolfe had rescued her from the abominable Dr. Wheeler.

  No protection.

  Exquisite timing!

  Such a night!

  Was it any wonder, then, she would wind up pregnant?

  Yet wasn’t that what everyone wanted? She lay there with her hand over her eyes, waiting for her stomach to settle. Her mother, her grandfather? The two of them would be wild with joy after they got over the initial shock. She realized that, mingled with her dismay and sense of trepidation, she herself was already thinking ahead to when she would hold her own child in her arms.

  It’s not you, my darling, my beautiful love child who jumped the gun. It’s me! She patted her stomach, talking to the embryo she was certain at that very moment was growing in her womb. I love you already.

  She would have to tell Rolfe. When? After she had her own diagnosis confirmed by a blood test? She could arrange that quickly enough. On her own reckoning—she fully expected to be proved right—conception had taken place three weeks before. She couldn’t bear to wait six weeks to tell him.

  Would he turn on her, his voice rising in dismayed accusation? No, Rolfe wouldn’t turn on her. That wasn’t his way. But how would he take it? Would he have a sense of being tricked? As though she, being the mother of his child, would have control? It would certainly bring any plans he might have rapidly forward. He claimed he wanted to marry her, said he wouldn’t take up the position on Lagunda without her.

  Should she subject him to another test? He had brought her little habit of testing people out in the open, after all. That aspect of her character might continue with certain people but not with Rolfe. She no longer swung back and forth like a pendulum. Her trust in him from this day forth was rock solid.

  THE WAVE OF NAUSEA had subsided. This time she stood up more slowly and walked into the bathroom to take a shower. She pulled her nightgown over her head, then turned to look at her naked body in the mirror. She looked exactly the same. No changes in her breasts. She couldn’t have been more slender without being downright thin. Yet it was momentous to think a baby was growing inside her. She rubbed a hand over her flat stomach, circling it gently. How long would it be before anyone saw a difference? Five months, six, maybe into the seventh month? She was taller than average and it was her first child.

  She was feeling a lot better now. In fact, she had never felt more womanly.

  I’m carrying a baby. Rolfe’s baby. I’m the luckiest woman on earth!

  MIDMORNING when her grandfather and Rolfe were closeted in the study, discussing God knows what—they’d been in there an hour and a half—Cecile took a call from a Detective Superintendent Bormann from the Melbourne police in connection with the Peter Wheeler case. Cecile listened to what he had to say in absolute silence, thanked him for ringing, then hung up.

  She knocked on the study door, then entered the room at her grandfather’s response.

  “Cecile?” Rolfe was very quick to his feet, her grandfather more slowly, their faces mirror images of concern. “Is everything okay?”

  She was aware that Rolfe started toward her. She thought she said his name. She knew she put out her hand to him, but her vision was wavering. It was like lying at the bottom of a murky pool. A dark shape swooped down on her from the surface of the water, gathering her into its cold embrace.

  SHE CAME TO within moments. She was lying on the burgundy leather sofa, both legs raised on a cushion.

  “One in five people faint at least once in their life,” she quoted medical opinion somewhat woozily.

  “That’s the second time for you. One time too many.” Rolfe was sitting beside her, eyeing her anxiously.

  “I’ll get a doctor.” Her grandfather, too, was looking agitated.

  “No, Granddad!” she protested. She would be seeing a doctor soon enough. Please. I’m okay.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt to get one here.” Rolfe backed Joel.

  “I’m telling you there’s nothing wrong with me.” She put strength into her voice. “I’ve had a shock. Peter Wheeler is dead. He was killed in the jail laundry by one of the other inmates. That was a Detective Superintendent Bormann on the phone. He rang to tell me before it got into the papers.”

  “Good God!” Joel sat down heavily in the nearest club chair. “What a terrible business. He’s not the first man guilty of such a heinous crime to come to a violent end in jail.”

  “He’d been making threats against his wife, as well,” Cecile added.

  “Don’t talk for a moment,” Rolfe advised. “Just lie quietly.”

  “I will if you’ll stop fussing.” She looked into his eyes.

  “You’re the one who fainted.”

  “Her color is coming back,” Joel said, placing a comforting hand on Rolfe’s shoulder.

  “I’m still here,” Cecile reminded them. “I haven’t left the room.”

  “Behave yourself, Ceci,” her grandfather admonished. “It’s right for us to worry. You’re very precious, you know.”

  “You might put a trip to the doctor on the agenda,” Rolfe suggested. “I know the news was ugly, but a faint?”

  “I promise I’ll go and have a checkup,” she reassured him. “You can come with me, if you like.”

  “I just might do that,” he replied.

  “At least Wheeler’s death has taken the terror out of his wife’s life,” Joel mused.

  “You’re not worried about your part in anything, are you?” Rolfe’s dark eyes were still intent on Cecile.

  She shook her head. “My job was to save Ellie. Peter Wheeler should have sought help a long long time ago.”

  “How about if I ring for tea?” Joel suggested the universal fix-it. “I could do with a cup. It’s a good thing Rolfe is so quick on his feet. It’s a pretty hard floor and you were about to hit it, my girl.”

  “Rolfe has heaps of assets,” she murmured, smiling into his eyes.

  “May it be my destiny to be always there to catch you,” he said.

  IT WAS
J0EL and his cronies’ card night—a thirty-year fixture when Joel was in residence—so Rolfe suggested he and Cecile go out to dinner.

  She dressed very carefully in a white crepe jersey dress, sleeveless with a low V neckline and a fluid skirt. She left her hair long and flowing the way he liked it. At the last moment she added the long string of lustrous South Sea pearls that had been her grandfather’s twenty-first birthday present to her. They fitted perfectly inside the V neckline and looked beautiful against her skin. The pearls were so big most people would assume she was wearing lovely costume jewelry and not the real thing. There was some safety in that.

  She and Rolfe popped into the card room to say hello, and her grandfather introduced Rolfe to his friends, looking extremely pleased with himself and the world. He was especially chuffed to see Cecile wearing his birthday gift to her.

  “Pearls can’t hide away, my darling. They have to be worn and they’re absolutely perfect on you.”

  “HOW IS IT POSSIBLE you get more beautiful every time I see you?” Rolfe asked as they walked to the car.

  She could tell by the light in his eyes that the trouble she had gone to was well worth the effort. “I pay attention to all the little things.” She smiled.

  “Like perfume.” He lifted aside her long gleaming hair, breathing her in while he kissed her neck.

  By the time they parked and walked into the Darwin restaurant, the place was almost full. The maitre d’ saw them to their private table for two. It was out of the way of the main room, just as Cecile liked it. The floor-to-ceiling windows reflected all the light and glitter from the large. elegant main room, and they could also enjoy the outside harbor lights, which glittered like a fairyland.

  “Champagne?” Rolfe asked, his eyes savoring her. She was beautiful at all times, but tonight she seemed to have extra bloom. “Or would you prefer something else?”

  She shook her head, already concerned for the well-being of their baby. “Usually I have champagne,” she said sweetly, “but tonight I’m on a diet.”

  “What?” He drew back in his chair. “What would you have to go on a diet for?”

  “The party,” she invented. “Daniel’s and Sandra’s party. I have a beautiful strapless dress I want to get into.”

  He shook his head, letting his eyes assess her. “I don’t believe this.”

  “I’ve put on a pound or two,” she fibbed.

  “Have you really?” His mouth turned down in disbelief. “Well, I’ll check that out tonight.”

  “You’re assuming I’m coming back to your apartment?” she challenged

  “You’re assuming right,” he said dryly. “No wonder you fainted if you’ve put yourself on some silly diet.”

  She reached over and touched his hand. “I promise I’m eating all the right things. It’s just that I’m off alcohol. But you go ahead.”

  She didn’t remember much about what they ate, but she would always recall with great vividness the deep joy and excitement of being with him.

  Over dessert he asked curiously. “You’re hiding something. What is it?”

  She was feeling so incandescent she wasn’t surprised it showed. “Why would you say that?” She was going to hold on to her secret a little longer.

  “Because I know you. There’s something you’re not telling me.”

  “Maybe.” She smiled at him. “You told me you Wouldn’t take up Granddad’s offer if I didn’t want to go to Lagunda. Did you mean it?”

  He looked perfectly self-possessed. “I said it, didn’t I? You’re the only woman who could have that kind of power over me.”

  “Lucky me!”

  He clasped her hand across the table. “Seriously, if you think you wouldn’t be happy on Lagunda, we won’t go there. I’ll find something else. I’m not without resources. I understand perfectly if you don’t want to give up your career. You’ve worked hard for it and you’re obviously very good at it. At the same time I am concerned, like Joel, about the dangerous situations people in your line of work can become involved in.”

  A shiver passed over her. “Don’t remind me. I do get satisfaction out of my work. Having said that, I am prepared to put my career on the back burner for a while.”

  “What’s a while?” he asked, watching her closely.

  “Oh, a year or two. And I’m not stopping you from taking up the appointment at Lagunda. You’re so good at what you do. As I can’t bear to be parted from you, I’ll go along as well.”

  “So I should accept?” His focus on her was intent.

  “Yes.”

  “You were testing me?”

  She snapped her fingers. “My darling Rolfe, I’ve moved on from that. Do you want to stay here any longer or are we done?”

  For answer he put up his hand to signal the waiter.

  IN THE BEDROOM he began to tenderly undress her, removing her beautiful pearls first and laying them on top of a chest of drawers. “So let’s check out these extra couple of pounds, shall we?” His voice was a deep sexy purr.

  She was down to her underwear, a white bra with fine silk lace and matching delicate lace briefs.

  He stood back to allow his eyes to travel all the way over her. “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful!” He delivered his verdict, moving back to her again and drawing her against his aroused body. “Have you actually checked yourself out in the mirror lately? You don’t have an ounce of excess weight on you. Not that I’d mind if you put on a few pounds.”

  He let his hands run down her back to the curves of her taut rounded bottom. .

  “Maybe I will!”

  “Okay by me.” He pinched her bottom lightly. “Then I’ll have more of you. You are going to marry me, aren’t you?” He bent his head, planting kisses all over her face. “We’re not going to Lagunda to live in sin as they still say in Argentina.”

  She started some caressing of her own. “On the contrary I’m going to put pressure on you to marry me. I don’t want to wait.”

  “What about tomorrow afternoon?” He reached behind her back and unclipped her bra, setting her breasts free.

  “Great,” she said. “Fine with me!” Her breathing was coming faster. She was trembling with pleasure as his hands took the weight of her breasts.

  “I’m serious, Cecile.” Now his thumbs were circling the nipples, moving from the outside of the rose-pink areola to the tightly furled buds. He began to massage them very gently, watching her face.

  “So am I,” she moaned.

  “Then it has to be sometime very soon. A good thing I’ve got an engagement ring.”

  Her eyelids, weighed down with desire, snapped back. “What?”

  “I’ll just get you comfortable on the bed, then I’ll show it to you.” He lifted her so quickly, so smoothly, she was lying on the king-size bed before she knew it.

  She sat up, amazed, her hair tumbling around her shoulders. “Have you really got a ring for me?”

  His back was to her as he opened a drawer in the small desk that occupieda corner of the bedroom. “You didn’t really think we were just having an affair, did you?”

  She shook her head dazedly. “You are so full of surprises!”

  He came back to her, this wonderful man who loved her, and she felt the tears begin to rise to her eyes.

  “Open it,” he said. “But before you do, tell me What stone you think it is.”

  She screwed her eyes tight, clutching the small box to her naked breasts. She began to run her fingertips over the polished lid. “It’s…it’s not a diamond.”

  “It’s not a diamond,” he confirmed, sinking onto the bed beside her. “I’m not telling you anything else.”

  Her eyes were still closed. “So it’s a ruby, a sapphire or an emerald. It could be a royal purple amethyst, but I don’t think so.”

  She opened her eyes, staring into his face. “If I had blue eyes I’d say a sapphire. I would love a fiery pure red ruby, but that’s the rarest stone of all. For that matter, I would love an emerald. But I wou
ld love and cherish any ring you gave me.”

  “Perhaps you ought to open it,” he said.

  “Oh, this is wonderfully exciting!”

  “I think so. I’ve never been engaged before, so you’re one up on me.”

  “Could you puh-lease not mention that!” she begged, aiming a soft slap at him.

  “Never again,” he promised, making a pretense of defending himself.

  “Aaah, Rolfe!” Delight fell over her like a silken net. Inside the box glowing up at her, sat a glorious oval-shaped ruby surrounded by a blaze of diamonds, “Wherever did you get this?”

  “In my spare time I was a jewel thief.”

  “Darling!” She reached up to kiss him. “I can’t marry a jewel thief.”

  “I’ve changed a lot.” He smiled, watching her return to admiring her engagement ring. “Actually it’s a long story and fascinating, to boot. How I came by the central stone I mean. I had the ring made to my own design. A few years back I saved a fellow polo player from a potentially fatal fall. Anyway, as it turned out, he was a relative of the Sultan of Brunei.”

  “Wow! No wonder you galloped after him,” she retorted facetiously, turning the boxed ring this way and that to catch the light.

  “I’ll tell you the full story later,” Rolfe said dryly. “Let’s put that ring on, shall we?” He took the box from her and extracted the beautiful piece of jewelry. With it in hand, he slid from the side of the bed, kneeling before her like a supplicant to a naked goddess.

  “You are my chosen woman out of all the women in the world,” he said, taking her hand and raising it to his mouth. “With this ring, Cecile, I swear my everlasting allegiance. I shall love and treasure you until the day I die.”

  His words struck her ears like heavenly music, and tears of joy started streaming down her cheeks.

  “Don’t cry, darling. Please.” He was tom between laughter and tenderness.

  “Hey, that’s what women do.”

  “Right-o, go ahead. I can lick all those tears up.” Keeping his eyes on her, he slid the ring over her knuckle to the base of her finger. It came to rest there as if made for her alone.

 

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