“Can we go now?”
Her eagerness pleased him and he laughed. “Soon. Stay here while I get you something to eat.”
“Sandwiches will do. It’s too late for me to eat any exotic or rich food.”
He waited until she had almost finished eating before excusing himself to farewell his friends.
She admired him as he circulated. How well he looked dressed in a black frock coat with velvet lapels, and tight trousers with a braided side seam. A gold pin held his burgundy silk cravat in place.
The clock chimed eleven a few minutes before they left in a fancy carriage. Martin put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, so she could rest her head against his chest. She closed her eyes to better inhale his male scent, and to feel the thud of his heart against her cheek.
“You didn’t enjoy the supper dance, did you?” He caressed her hair with gentle fingers.
“I’m sorry, I know they’re your friends, but I don’t fit in.”
“I haven’t seen a few of these people in years, so I wanted to catch up with them, otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered going. I’ve been to so many of these functions over the years I’m bored with them.”
His nearness lulled her and she blinked her eyes in an endeavor to stay awake.
“We’ve arrived at the hotel.” He shook her gently and she cuddled closer to him.
“Come on, my sweet, we’re at the hotel now.”
Taking her hand, he led her upstairs to their room. The moment they got into bed, he took her in his arms and kissed her. She returned his caresses eagerly, wantonly.
Martin straddled her, his weight supported on his hands and knees, as he hovered over her, feathering gentle kisses across her cheeks and down the line of her jaw. He took her lips again in a hungry, urgent kiss, using his tongue to draw the sweet nectar from her mouth.
He shifted his position to move between her parted thighs, and thus slide down the whole length of her body. From her throat, his lips moved over her shoulder until he buried his face in the soft perfumed valley between her breasts.
She scrunched her fingers through his hair. She wanted him, yearned for him right now. Heated excitement churned through her. His mouth moved lower, his body sliding between her legs, until his cheek rested for a moment on her stomach. She gasped with pleasure as his mouth inched closer to the hot moist core of her womanhood.
“I’ll take you to paradise soon,” he promised, lifting his mouth from the task of working her into a quivering mass of desperate need.
Desire convulsed deep within her femininity. She clawed at his back, heard his breath coming out in harsh, labored pants, as he worked her until she floated on a euphoric cloud of rapture.
With the sudden explosion of hot moistness, his desire and excitement mounted. She was only eighteen years old, barely out of girlhood, but he wanted her with such desperation he would have died for her right now.
Light-headed with the strain, he still held back, forced himself not to give in to his raging, all consuming passion.
Her nails flailed his back; he heard her sobs of need as he inhaled the perfume of her arousal and felt the pulse of her desire. Finally, he lifted his head and crawled back over her body, growling with desire. They came together in a frenzied coupling, as his control snapped.
“Oh, Martin, Martin,” she sobbed with emotion, suddenly bereft when it ended.
“Didn’t I promise to take you to paradise, my sweet?”
“Yes, oh yes, you did.”
He rolled on to his side, wrapping his legs and arms around her, to keep her close, and she rested her face on his damp, hair-roughened chest.
* * *
Next morning after breakfast, Martin took her with him in the coach to Port Melbourne, so he could put into place his plans for his dockside workers.
Beth could not believe how huge his warehouses were; not only did he import goods but exported them also. She listened in fascination as he explained about dry refrigeration, which allowed frozen mutton and beef to be shipped to England, and arrive in good condition.
She waited outside the massive warehouse while he spoke to his agent. Several ships were tied up at the wharves, the place a hive of industry, with men yelling out curses as they manhandled large containers. Some were loaded straight away onto wagons pulled by teams of six or ten horses, other boxes and barrels were lifted on to smallish drays, which had one Clydesdale between the shafts. Numerous items went straight into Martin’s warehouse.
She leaned her elbows against the wooden railing, watching a graceful ship ride the foam-flecked waves. Seagulls, white and pristine, flew overhead their loud squawks intermingled with the noise of a busy wharf.
Several men stared at her with undisguised interest, others ignored her, while some deliberately turned their backs on her. She couldn’t blame them. While they performed dirty heavy work in order to support their families, they thought of her as an idle rich woman, dressed in expensive clothes, who did nothing of any worth.
I’m not like that. I’m one of you.
Martin came back and they returned to the carriage. “Now, where would you like to go?”
“To Cole’s book arcade, so I can see the monkeys.”
“All right, my sweet.” He laughed. “Driver, Bourke Street, please.”
As they left the wharf area, they passed lines of terrace houses, many built out of wood and roofed over with bark shingles, their front doors open to the dirty street. Ragged children played outside in the gutters, and Beth’s heart went out to the poor little mites.
They avoided Stephens Street, the red light district in the eastern end of the city, where even in daylight brazen prostitutes plied their trade.
At the bookstore, Beth exclaimed with delight because it extended over several floors, with thousands of books. She liked the displays of fine china and dawdled past them. The aviary proved to be a delight with numerous pretty finches and parrots flying around.
“Aren’t they beautiful?”
“I’ll have an aviary built for you at the castle, my sweet,” Martin promised, with an indulgent smile.
“No, I couldn’t let you do that.”
“Don’t worry about the cost of things all the time. Whatever you want you can have, you only have to ask me.”
“Thank you.” A shadow flitted across her face. “They are beautiful, but I’d prefer them to be free, like my birds at home.”
Pleasure surged through him because she now thought of the castle as home.
The antics of the monkeys fascinated her, and Martin laughed when she put her head to one side and pulled faces at them. Like an excited child, she squealed when one of the monkeys stuck his arm out and made a grab for her skirt.
“You’re too close to them,” he admonished, pulling her away. “These are wild animals; you need to be wary of them.”
“They’re so cute.”
“Maybe, but they aren’t pets.”
When they left the animals, they strolled to a little tearoom off Collins Street and shared pancakes and a pot of tea. Beth’s eyes shone, her face animated as she smiled and touched his hand often. Martin could not drag his gaze away from her, this half child, half woman both worried and fascinated him.
“The gardens, let’s do the gardens next.” She waved her arms around in excitement.
“You don’t want to visit any more shops?”
“No, I’ve bought all the gowns I need.”
“You didn’t get many. Most women given a free hand would buy dozens.”
“I’m not like other women, I don’t like greed. You don’t need to bribe me.”
“It’s not a bribe.” His mouth twisted bitterly. Why did she always suspect the worst of him? “I wanted to please you.”
“You have.” She unclenched his fingers and cradled his hand between her own.
He pulled away and composed his features, fearful of letting her see his uncertainty, his vulnerability. He was not used to this new desire, the
desire to please a woman. “If you’ve finished we’ll go.”
“I love you.”
“A common declaration when women want something from a man,” he sneered. They were the masters of subterfuge. Played men like violins and only a foolish man believed anything that came out of their mouths.
“I love you, Martin, not your money.”
“Sorry, I can be a surly brute sometimes.” He took several deep breaths to get himself under control again.
“Can we go to the gardens now? I’ve kept a piece of pancake so I can feed the ducks.”
“If you want to. We have to leave for home tomorrow morning.”
“We haven’t seen everything yet. Can’t we stay for one more day?”
“I’ve already booked our seats.”
“We haven’t even been to the Theatre yet.”
“We’ll go tonight,” he promised.
The gardens were not too far from Collins Street so they walked in the spring sunshine. They linked arms and strolled along, stopping every now and again to gaze into the shop windows.
They arrived at a wide expanse of lawn, dotted with neat garden beds full of daffodils, daisies and lavender. Ornamental trees, covered in pink and white blossoms, encircled the large lake. They waited for a family of ducks, mother and five babies, to waddle across the gravel pathway.
“Aren’t they cute? Look at them.”
She laughed, and once more, he was amazed at how simple things could make her happy. Numerous family groups also enjoyed the gardens, children dashing around giving squeals of delight. Bitterness rose up like bile in his mouth because he had never enjoyed such childhood pleasures.
Beth watched several graceful white swans glide past. While Martin sat on a bench under a tree to read all the latest news in the Argus, she walked onto a wooden platform to feed the ducks.
A boy of about six and a smaller one of about three threw pebbles in the water. The younger child jigged about excitedly, while his older brother tried to restrain him.
Beth raised her arm and waved to Martin who had lowered his paper, and sat puffing on a cigar. He lifted his hand in acknowledgement. Disappointing that they had to return home tomorrow, but they were to attend the Theatre tonight, an exciting proposition for one who had never been before.
A sudden, shrill scream spun her around. The smaller of the boys had toppled into the water and his brother desperately tried to grab hold of his flailing arms. In the choppy water, the child drifted away.
Beth saw Martin sprinting over to them. He would not be in time to save the boy. Without hesitation, she jumped out into the water, ignoring the icy cold sting against her skin. Fortunately, her feet hit the bottom, enabling her to stand up.
Even weighted down by her clothes, she managed to reach out and grab the boy who spluttered, choked and tried to cry all at the same time. Holding him out of the water, she staggered the couple of steps to the platform.
Ashen-faced, Martin knelt down, plucked the boy out of her arms, and deposited him beside his sobbing, older brother. He leaned over, grabbed Beth under the armpits, and dragged her out of the water where she collapsed in a shivering heap.
“You little fool.” He hauled her to her feet. “You could have drowned.”
“S… s… someone had to go in after him,” she managed through chattering teeth.
Martin took off his coat and draped it across her trembling shoulders. Without a word of thanks, the two boys scuttled off.
“Ungrateful brats.” He put his arm around her as she squelched along beside him. “Thank God we’re handy to the hotel.”
Her wet hair straggled like a rat’s tail, her gown and petticoats were soaked, causing her legs to almost buckle under the weight. The weak spring sun provided little warmth as a cold wind sliced through her clothes, paring away the layers until she felt naked and exposed, chilled to the bone.
“I can’t go through the main foyer, I feel awful.”
“You look and smell terrible.”
Hot tears burned her eyes and she tried to blink them away.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
He scooped her up in his arms and carried her the last fifty yards to the hotel.
Beth gasped in surprise at the reception she received in the foyer. Several of the guests clapped, and a maid waited with a bundle of towels.
“Mrs. Mulvaney, you were so brave,” the manager gushed. “One of the other guests saw what happened from his window.”
“My wife will need a hot bath.”
“Almost ready, sir,” Effie replied.
Martin strode up the stairs and carried Beth straight into the bathroom, which ran off their dressing room. Steam rose up from the bathtub, and the smell of rose bath oil permeated the room.
She tried to undo the buttons on her gown, but her fingers were too cold and clumsy.
“Here, let me help you, Mrs. Mulvaney,” Effie offered. “Why don’t you go downstairs, sir, I’m thinking you could do with a whisky.”
“Yes, I could. Let my wife soak in the tub for a while, then she’s to rest in bed.”
“I’m all right, you worry too much about me.”
“You almost get yourself drowned, you’re at risk of pneumonia, and you wonder why I’m concerned about you.”
“Don’t be angry, anyone would have done what I did.”
He walked to the window and stared out, giving Beth a chance to undress and get in the tub before he swung around again.
“I’m sorry I snarled at you.” His shoulders slumped. “I feared I might lose you.”
“I’m a strong swimmer, grandfather taught us.”
“You couldn’t have swum weighted down with those wet clothes.”
Effie washed her hair, while Beth closed her eyes, succumbing to this unaccustomed luxury.
“Martin, please. Go and have a drink, I’m all right. When I’m cleaned up, a cup of tea would be nice.”
The warm, scented water eased the numbness in her legs, and stopped the shivers. Effie first laid a towel out on the floor for her to stand on then stood holding an enormous towel. Beth’s cheeks burned with embarrassment because no one except Martin had seen her naked. As she stepped out of the tub, Effie glanced at her stomach, before wrapping the soft thick towel around her.
“When’s your baby due, Mrs. Mulvaney?”
“In February.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“I’m the eldest of seven. I mean, for February you shouldn’t show so much yet, if you’ll excuse me for saying so.”
“It’s all right.”
She allowed Effie to pat her skin dry and slip a silky nightgown over her head. Easier that way as shock had started to set in now, making every muscle in her body ache.
“Thank you, Effie, you’ve been very kind.”
“I’m pleased to attend you. Most of the women who stay here treat us maids like dirt. Their husbands are even worse, trying to force us into their beds all the time.”
“How awful! Can’t you report them?”
“Who would take a mere maid’s word against a gentleman’s?” She almost hissed the last word.
“I’m sorry.”
“Your husband is one of the few decent men who stay here, never acted any way but proper.”
Effie turned back the bedclothes allowing Beth to gratefully slip between the sheets.
“I’ll see about your tea, have a rest now. You’re brave to jump into a lake. I’d have been too scared.”
When Effie answered the knock at the door, another maid entered the room with a tray, set up with tea and sandwiches. After the two maids left, Beth propped herself up against the pillows, sipped at the tea Effie poured out, and nibbled on a sandwich.
Where was Martin? Socializing downstairs, no doubt. He’s forgotten all about me. She blocked out the thought, to halt the tightness in her chest. At last, the door opened and he strode in.
“Do you feel better now?”
�
��No.” She blinked back hot tears. “You didn’t care enough to see if I was all right. Too busy with your fancy friends I suppose.”
“Rubbish. I wanted you to relax in the tub for a while. Eat a few more sandwiches.”
“I’m not hungry, I just feel worn out.”
He lifted the tray away and placed it on the dresser. “You’ll feel better after a sleep.” He leaned down to kiss her forehead, and as he went to move away, she clasped her arms around his neck.
“Stay with me.” She pushed the bedclothes aside for him.
“No.”
“I want you to.”
He kissed her on the mouth, before his tongue moved to the pulse at her throat. “You smell good.”
“Stay here with me.”
“No, you won’t get any rest if I do.”
“Yes I will.”
“You bewitch me.” He stood up. If he gave in to temptation and joined her in bed, there would be no rest for either of them.
She looked pale and big-eyed, certain to be suffering delayed shock. It took courage to jump into a lake without even knowing the depth of the water. He recalled how she had been prepared to take on Jeb Mueller to save Toby. This tenacity and bravery would be a legacy from her Highland ancestors.
“Will we still be able to go to the Theatre?”
“Of course, if you want to.”
They did not attend the Theatre. Martin spent the rest of the day downstairs reading and playing chess. At ten o’clock he crawled into bed beside her, resisting the temptation to take her in his arms and assuage the hunger, the sheer carnal desire, her soft perfumed body always aroused in him.
Chapter Twelve
A couple of weeks after the Melbourne trip, Alistair rode over for a visit.
“Alistair.” Beth dashed out to greet him. “I’m so glad to see you.”
He leapt off his horse and engulfed her in a bear hug, lifted her feet off the ground and swung her around several times.
“Where’s Mulvaney?” He lowered her to the ground, but draped his arm across her shoulders.
“At work.” Her lips trembled. “Since we got back from Melbourne, he’s away from daylight until dark. I want him to take me into town, I’ve run out of lace and ribbon for the baby’s layette.”
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