by Téa Cooper
“Oh my God, Lily, are you sure you are alright?” Bonnie threw her leg over the pommel of her saddle, dismounted and covered the distance between them in three quick strides.
Lily collapsed against the warmth of Bonnie’s body and the tears she held back finally coursed down her face “Yes I’m fine,” she hiccoughed. “I’m sorry I didn’t have time to warn you. I acted on the spur of the moment.” She kept her voice low and glanced across at Tom. “I thought I could make it to Laguna and get help.” She lifted her head and wiped her hand over her sodden face. “I stopped to get my bearings and a drink for Nero. I didn’t think he’d be on my tail so quickly.”
Bonnie pushed her away slightly and stared at her.
Lily closed her eyes, hoping against hope her friend wouldn’t be able to read the confusion and disappointment she knew was all too visible. “We’ll just have to go along with them for now and see what transpires when we reach the Common.”
Bonnie patted her cheek. “If you’re planning to pull any more stunts see if you can find the time to let me know, perhaps I might have more chance of surviving the drama.”
“If you two ladies” Tom’s pause invested the word with such contempt she almost shied away like an unbroken horse “–have finished your tête-à-tête, I’d like to get back on the road. We have a distance to go before nightfall.”
Lily eased herself into the saddle and noticed Jem had slipped a long lead road through Nero’s bridle and tied the other end firmly to the pommel of his saddle. She half-heartedly wondered if he’d known what she was planning. She shrugged her tired shoulders. It didn’t matter now, it was too late and if the lead rope meant she would be riding with Jem and not Tom it wasn’t such a bad thing. Anything to keep a respectable distance between them and control her wanton behavior.
They took up the familiar travelling pattern, only the places were reversed and Lily trailed along like a recalcitrant ass at the back of the group. She muttered to herself, drawing strength from the accumulated anger ricocheting around her gut. Obviously escape, no matter how daring or how ill-conceived, wasn’t an option. Her foolish attempt had proved it. There had to be another way she could get around the situation. Getting the horses to Sydney was her first priority and if somewhere along the way she could manage to race Nero she could still accomplish all she set out to do.
There was little possibility of her father coming up with the ransom money. Poor old George was probably at this very moment on the receiving end of her father’s brandy soaked rage. She just hoped it wouldn’t be too awful for him. She knew she’d been reckless but she tried to reassure herself–nothing ventured, nothing gained. She had done her best.
The afternoon wore on and Lily’s anger gradually subsided as the terrain leveled out. They passed along the river flats and a herd of shiny black cattle idly grazed in the shade of the huge gum trees.
Being led, forced into this chain gang line-up, gave her time to think. Her gaze alternated between the surrounding countryside and Jem’s muscled back as he rode with a casual lack of convention. There had to be some way of getting around the situation. Escape was out of the question, something she’d already tried. She could wait patiently and demurely until George arrived with the ransom, however, she’d stake her life on him returning without it–if indeed he returned at all.
She took her hat off and wiped her hair back from her brow and ran her hand over the top of her head in an attempt to loosen sweaty tangle at the back of her neck. Her fingers caught in the remains of the purple vine she’d tied there a lifetime ago.
What had he said? It suited her, brought out the color in her eyes. The blood rushed to her face and she clamped her hat back on her head as a plan began to take shape. If he found her attractive perhaps there was a way she could use it to her advantage? Clearly he already thought her a trollop after her unrestrained display by the creek so what did she have to lose? Her mother’s smiling face sprang to mind. What had she called it? Using her feminine wiles. She tipped her head to one side and twirled the intricate gold ring around her finger. If–just if–Tom found her attractive perhaps he’d lower his guard again or maybe she could get him to see her side of the argument and convince him it was far more important to get the horses to Sydney than provide his motley crew with decent horseflesh. She could even offer to pay the ransom herself from her inheritance once the shipment had made it to Sydney. Excitement caught in her throat–then she could still race Nero at Windsor.
****
Tom knew this area well. He’d long forgotten the number of times he and the boys had taken this path. Never exactly the same way because the last thing they wanted to do was leave a trail in the fragile landscape, far better to zigzag their way along and across the wallaby tracks until they crossed the Great North Road. They were running parallel to the river and he intended to pick up the track onto the Common in about a mile.
He squinted up at the sun and shook his head. He might just name the spot Lily’s Leap. They’d made good time yesterday, despite the theatrics on the road. She was certainly a handful, a handful he’d more than like to take on. It would be a bit easier to keep her under control at the Common, there wasn’t anywhere she could run to, and without any knowledge of the area she’d find escape impossible. His stomach rumbled reminding him just how long it had been since they had a decent meal. Hopefully old Pete would have got the word and have things sorted at the camp.
The wisp of smoke drifting in a lazy cloud above the treetops proved him right as he lifted the pace and led the small party to the security of the small hidden valley. The simple slab homestead weathered silver by the elements stood under the towering hillside. Tom breathed a sigh of relief as he spotted Pete leaning against the fence of the holding yard and raised his hat in acknowledgement when Pete dropped the slip rails to allow the horses to enter.
****
When Lily slid from Nero’s back, her legs buckled. For the first time in her life she was relieved to be out of the saddle. She breathed deeply, determined to overcome the waves of fatigue washing over her as she labored to force one foot in front of the other. She yearned for the familiar comfort of Wordsworth and the simple pleasure of throwing Nero’s reins to a stable boy and walking away to a long hot bath and a decent meal. Her stomach grumbled with hunger.
“Here. Give him to me.” She looked up into pale eyes and a wrinkled face. The old man was tall and wiry with bleached flyaway hair escaping from beneath a battered hat.
“Thanks, Pete. Come with me, ladies. I’ll show you to your sleeping quarters.”
Jumping at the sound of Tom’s voice behind her, she realized how it lacked the slow Australian cadence of the old man. Tom was an enigma. His speech and mannerisms hinted at a cultured upbringing, yet his companions and knowledge of the bush were those of a vagrant.
Lily and Bonnie followed him out of the holding yard to the slab hut. The shingled roof leaned at an alarming angle and was supported by corner posts that were no more than insect ridden props. Bonnie grasped her hand and Lily squeezed it, as he led them to their accommodation. Visions of darkened cellars and the chain links her father had used to restrain his assigned convicts flitted through her mind.
Surely not.
The timbers on the makeshift veranda protested as they followed him up the crooked steps. He threw open the door and she sighed with relief. Calico lined the ceilings and the wooden butt jointed floorboards were clean and swept. A huge stone fireplace took up one whole wall and a stew was bubbling on the fire. Lily couldn’t remember when she had last eaten a hot meal. She had an overwhelming desire to sink into the battered armchair in front of the fire and rest her feet on the stone hearth. It looked as though old Pete had been expecting their arrival.
“How did he know when we’d get here?” She turned to Tom.
“Bush telegraph’s pretty efficient.” He threw her a conspiratorial wink and she couldn't help but grin back.
As if to prove his words, Pete appeared, too
k his hat off and nodded to her. “That was a fine ride and it’s a mighty fine horse you have there. Lucky you didn’t do him any harm.”
Mystified Lily turned to Bonnie who shrugged her shoulders, her eyebrows raised in surprise. Everyone spoke of the famous unofficial chain of communication that spread news, information and rumors throughout the colony, but she had never seen it in action.
“Your accommodation is through there, you’ll have to share.” Pete tipped his head toward the back of the room where a calico curtain hung looped across a low doorway, “And the washroom’s out the back. We won’t disturb you if you want to clean up a bit before we eat.”
“We’ll be eating outside on the veranda,” Tom added with the grin back on his face.
With a restrained nod of her head, Lily parted the curtain, and dragged a bemused Bonnie after her, relieved their journey was over for the time being.
****
It was good to see a woman who enjoyed her food, although it must be days since she’d had a decent meal. The juices from the mutton tracked down Lily’s chin were highlighted by the candlelight slanting across her cheeks. He ran his tongue over his lips. The very cheeks and chin he had trailed kisses across only a day ago.
He hadn’t intended to even touch her, let alone drag her into his arms. What was the matter with him? Nothing seemed to be going the way he had intended it. In three short days she had turned his life upside down.
Losing interest in the food in front of him, Tom rested his elbows on the table and gazed across the table at Lily. Just the sight of her face in the reflected candlelight tempted him. She lifted her hand and wiped her face. The sleeve of her shirt brushed her lips. Delicious. His body quickened, another appetite roused. He shook his head in disbelief; she was unlike any woman he had ever known.
The long split timber table and benches created a strange isolation. Bonnie gravitated toward the other end of the table with Will and Jem leaving him in the half-light with Lily. Not something he minded. It gave him the opportunity to study her and he did with increasing interest; her hair was untied and streamed down her back in a wild profusion of curls with fragile spirals loose around her face. In the fading light, her sun-kissed skin had taken on the warm glow of amber and her slim lithe body was graced with seductive curves in just the right places.
What was she doing out on the road with only a companion, horses and a couple of disreputable laborers? Dungarven might have a reputation as a breeder of horseflesh but obviously the care and attention he lavished on his stock didn’t extend to his offspring. He racked his mind trying to remember Dungarven’s wife. Had they ever met socially? He couldn’t remember meeting them in Sydney social circles. Not that he had spent much time in those circles himself. He sat up as a hazy memory of the gaming tables flashed before his eyes. Whitened knuckles and despair on a ravaged face. Was he remembering Dungarven? What of Lily’s mother? Did she condone her daughter gallivanting around the country?
“Tell me how did you learn to ride like a boy?”
She looked up when he spoke and once more wiped her hand across her tantalizing lips. “I didn’t learn to ride like a boy. I learned to ride a horse.”
He shook his head. “I beg your pardon.” The last thing he wanted to do was to break the mood of the evening. He wanted, needed to know more about this woman. She was unlike anyone he had ever met before, and there was her smile again lighting the darkness and filling his world with promise. She was provoking him, goading him. She had to be.
“Dominique, my husband, and I took lessons together, not only in the schoolroom, but outside as well. His father engaged a tutor for him and I was invited to join them.” She leaned back on the wide bench and clasped her arms around her knees. He watched with fascination as she rocked slowly backward and forward, in and out of the candlelight, and her loosened hair framed her face and curled around her sensuous breasts.
Just where I would like my hands to be.
“We shared our lives, our lessons. Dom had what my father described as unmanly passions. He was interested in drawing and music, but he was no different to me. I could have been said to have unwomanly passions because I wanted to learn to ride a horse, to jump and to hunt. Dom was handsome, talented and gifted, but so very troubled.” She lifted her shoulders and turned her palms upward in a gesture of mystification. “When he died his parents held me responsible. They said I had pushed him over the edge, metaphorically not literally. That I had pandered to what they called his ridiculous fantasies. I suspect our tutor had more to do with it than anyone imagined, because it was only after he left Dom became so troubled. I didn’t want to burden his parents with my suspicions; I believe his life became meaningless after our tutor left. He left a gaping hole I couldn’t ever fill.”
Tom listened carefully and his heart went out to her. She was so young to have so much responsibility resting on those eloquent shoulders. He might be estranged from his family but at least knew they were safe and presumably happy.
“After Dom died his parents wanted nothing to do with me. He had money. Money left to him by his godmother and I inherited it. His parents were angry and I had to return to Wordsworth. To my father’s house.”
Her flat statement punctuated the darkness –their conversation was over. He had the impression her father hadn’t been overjoyed to see her arrive home. Something told him she had said more than she intended, lulled by a feeling of security, a full belly and the candlelight.
With a sudden lithe move he was coming to recognize, she sprang to her feet. Hands on her hips and determination flashing in her violet eyes. “I need to check on the horses and get some sleep.”
He stood and led the way through the darkness toward the fenced paddock behind the house. Their footsteps rustled in the dried leaves and a possum growled, disturbed by their intrusion.
She stretched out her hand groping in the darkness for the fence line, and with a will of its own his hand reached for hers and their fingers interlaced turning the touch to a caress. His senses reeled at the sound of her frantic intake of breath and it was too late. His hands found her shoulders and he pushed her back hard against the fence. His lips and tongue claimed hers and she pressed closer to him offering her open mouth with an abandon he had only dreamed of.
His control slipped, he deepened his kiss, running his hands down her back and pressing her to his aching body where he needed her most. She rocked against him and he ran his tongue along her full bottom lip then sank into the moist welcome of her mouth. The soft sounds she made sending him into a frenzy of need.
“No. Stop. You’re hurting me.”
He dropped his hands and stepped away her words bringing him back to reality as he gasped to steady his breathing. A flash of shame flickered through him. “I forgot myself. I had no right. I beg your pardon.”
****
“Tom, I…” The tense muscles of his back rippled as he strode purposefully to the veranda, his footfall harsh on the dried leaves.
Why had she pushed him away? It hadn’t been what she intended. She’d let the perfect opportunity slip through her fingers. She shook her head trying to clear the jumble of emotions clouding her mind. She must accept his advances and make sure he believed them, otherwise she would never be able to convince him to help her get the horses to Sydney.
After a few moments she came to the conclusion it wouldn’t be as difficult as she imagined, and straightened her shirt. She had no intention of admitting it aloud, but where bushrangers were concerned she seemed to lack a certain control and decency. It surely couldn’t be too difficult to bend him to her will. Tomorrow was another day and after a decent night’s sleep she was sure she would be able to convince him his advances were welcome.
Chapter 4
“Can I help you?”
Lily turned toward his voice and her heart hitched as she smiled a welcome.
“I thought I’d take Nero for a ride across the Common. He’s used to being ridden every day and if he is g
oing to stay in peak condition…” Her voice tapered off as she realized that now probably wasn’t the time to broach the Windsor Races but if she got her way and she did race Nero, she couldn’t afford to have him feeling sluggish.
“I’ll join you.”
As he ambled across to the tack shed Lily’s heart leaped; he was playing right into her hands. A ride together would give her the opportunity to make up for last night and begin forging a bond between them. She might even raise the suggestion of an alternative to her father’s ransom.
“Can’t have you displaying your riding skills without an audience.” His raised eyebrow and ironic tone made her want to turn away, but she bit her tongue. She knew he was still worried about her escaping, but that wasn’t going to happen. She now had other plans. After tightening the girth on Nero’s saddle, she walked him to the slip rails.
“Is there another paddock we can put the remounts in when we get back? It would be good if they had a bit of space to graze and kick up their heels. They’re like me, not used to being contained.” Lily lifted the first of the slips rails as if to accentuate her words and waited for his response. Willy wagtails swooped and flitted on the fence posts offering their assistance, their black and white feathers contrasting sharply with the discolored timber.
“I think we can manage that.” He tapped a small stick absently against his thigh as he considered her proposition. “Let’s give you a bit of freedom before you slip your chains and then we’ll sort out the horses.” She noticed a hint of a smile on his full lips and she had a sneaking suspicion he was teasing her. A nervous thrill unfurled deep in her stomach.
****
Was it possible that she could look lovelier in the bright morning sun than she had in the candlelight? Her hair hung loose and the tightness of her breeches outlined her luscious hips and thighs. He forced himself to ignore thoughts of what lay beneath the soft cotton shirt she wore.