Daring Masquerade

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Daring Masquerade Page 13

by Margaret Tanner


  "No, but it's not the done thing."

  "Why? You wanted me naked last night."

  "That was different."

  "You're a prude." She danced up to him and ripped his towel away. "Now we're both naked."

  "Well brought up young ladies don't behave like this."

  "No?" She suddenly flared up. "When their husbands make love to them, they lie like blocks of wood thinking of mother England."

  He muttered an oath as he reached for his clothes.

  "Is that how you want it to be?"

  "Of course not."

  She surveyed him with a hand on either hip, naked as a new born baby. "You don't like seeing me naked?" She swaggered a little.

  He burst out laughing. "You'll be the death of me one day. Go to the bathroom before I let my baser instincts take over and drag you back to bed."

  "I wouldn't mind."

  "You mightn't, but the army would. I'll stroll down and get a paper, meet you in the dining room at eight." He glanced at his watch. "Gives you half an hour."

  * * *

  Right on eight, Harry skipped downstairs and saw Ross conversing with another man. She hurried towards them, then stopped dead. Ross' face had lost all its color, leaving his skin white and sick. The other man, short, plump and flashily dressed, chomped on an unlit cigar and flapped his arms around like a demented rooster.

  "What is it?" She grabbed Ross' arm. "What's wrong?"

  "I gave him a shock, I'm afraid," the stranger said.

  Harry turned on the plump, pompous little man. "What did you say to my husband?"

  "I congratulated him on his marriage, and told him I'd recently been wed myself."

  "Virginia married him." Just three words, so anguished they speared into her heart with a force that almost felled her.

  "Congratulations."

  "Thank you. Clyde Bromley at your service." He tried to bow from the waist but his fat stomach prevented him from doing so.

  "The millionaire timber man?"

  "That's me." He chuckled. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Calvert."

  "You're the one who cuts down all the timber," she accused, "You ruin a town before moving on to destroy the next one."

  "Progress, my dear, progress."

  "Like hell it is. You rape the countryside, take..."

  "Harry." Ross came out of his trance and cut off her angry flow of words. "Control yourself. Bromley." He nodded to the now furious little man and walked into the dining room, practically dragging her with him.

  "Are you mad?" he hissed, almost shoving her into a chair. "Do you know who he is?"

  "Yes. He destroys little timber towns."

  "Enough. He's a multi-millionaire with friends in high places."

  "Oh, that makes it all right, does it? He's so rich he can do what he likes?"

  "No, I don't condone what he does, but he's a powerful man and would make a bad enemy."

  "Are you scared of him?"

  "No."

  "I forgot. You're sticking up for him because he's married to Saint Virginia."

  "Shut up."

  "Please." She took his hand. "They deserve each other."

  She watched him trying to pull himself together and her heart bled because he was in such pain.

  "It's terrible loving someone who doesn't return your love," she said gently. "I know how you feel." Who would know better than her about the hopeless pain, the desperate longing that the other person's feelings might change.

  "How the hell would you know?" He suddenly stopped. "Oh my God, I'm sorry."

  "It's all right. You can't force someone to love you if they don't want to."

  "I am fond of you." He reached out a fingertip to catch a couple of tears that somehow slipped out of her eyes.

  "I'd be lying if I declared undying love to you. I'm incapable of feeling love for another woman."

  She preferred brutal honesty to honeyed lies.

  "How could Virginia marry a disgusting, fat toad like him?"

  "Money. You said it yourself, he's a multi-millionaire."

  "But she isn't poor. I know her family is wealthy and socially well connected."

  "Virginia wanted his millions. He wanted entry into high society."

  She ordered tea and toast; anything heavier would have turned her stomach. Ross ordered bacon and eggs and sat toying with it.

  "What time is your appointment with the army?" she asked.

  "Eleven-thirty."

  "If we hurry up here, you could take me to a couple of shops first. People are staring at me because I'm wearing the same clothes as yesterday."

  "I didn't notice. All right."

  He sounded so sad and wretched she wanted to weep for him.

  They strolled down Collins Street, passing numerous fancy shops with outrageous prices.

  "Buy whatever you want."

  "They're so expensive."

  "I can afford it. If you like something, buy it."

  She had no use for a great pile of clothes. Once she got back to the station there was little likelihood of her going anywhere much to wear them. Finally, she bought a pale blue, crepe-de-chine blouse with raglan sleeves, and another pretty white cotton blouse with a stand up collar and mother of pearl buttons. It was a loose, shirt-like garment with a yoke. He picked out a cream colored silk suit with a full skirt and a matching loose sack coat.

  "That's enough." She smiled, delighted with the purchases.

  "No, you need nightgowns and undergarments. I'll wait outside while you choose what you want."

  He strode off, leaving her embarrassed and at the mercy of the sales assistant, who sensing good business kept adding to the pile.

  "You should have an evening dress, Madam, in case you want to go to dinner parties."

  After deliberating for a couple of minutes, Harry chose a gown with a high waist and two tiered skirt in pale green. The bodice was a few shades darker and brought out the green in her eyes. It was of some diaphanous material, the foundation being a strip of matching lace mounted on flesh colored chiffon, finished with shoulder straps and some light drapery. Wickedly expensive and quite daring, but she fell in love with it.

  "Oh please, that's enough." She waved at the pile of boxes covering the counter. She glanced around for Ross as the saleslady started adding up the prices. Harry caught his eye and he marched into the shop, checking his watch as he did so.

  "Have you finished?"

  "Yes, but I think I spent too much." Her voice wavered. "I could put some of it back."

  "No, it's all right. Can you have everything delivered to the Grand Hotel in Spring Street, please, Mr. Ross Calvert's suite?"

  He picked up the bill. Without so much as a flicker of surprise, he wrote out a check.

  "Thank you for your help," Harry acknowledged the saleslady, wondering if the woman thought she was Ross' mistress.

  "We can go out and buy some more clothes tomorrow, if you want to," he offered.

  "No, this is plenty. I've never seen so many nice things."

  "Just so long as you like them. Can you find your own way back to the hotel if I leave you here? I'll have to get a taxi otherwise I'll be late."

  "I'll be all right. Do you know what time you'll be back?"

  "No idea. Go and see your friend. I'll meet you at the hotel this afternoon."

  He did not kiss her goodbye, just thrust some money into her hand and sprinted towards a slow moving motorized taxi that was heading their way. He can't wait to get away from me. She forced herself not to burst out crying in the street.

  Chapter Nine

  Harry caught a cable tram to the Littlejohn's and sat in the dummy. The last time she had ventured here, in what seemed another lifetime, Gil recuperated in the convalescent hospital. If they had not gone to Devil's Ridge, would he still be alive today? She lost count of the number of times she played this scenario in her head. She had known about his physical wounds, but not his shattered mind. He'd loved being at Devil's Ridge. If she didn't believe th
is she would drive herself insane.

  Ross was right, he should have died on Gallipoli with his mates, but fate intervened and let him come home to her for a little while. So deep in thought did she become, the tram almost passed her stop before she realized it.

  Alighting, she straightened her hat, and decided to go to the front door. She was no longer Harriet Martin, the skivvy, but Mrs. Ross Calvert from Devil's Ridge. She rang the bell and Elsie answered the door.

  "Yes, can I help you?"

  "Elsie, it's me, Harriet. Don't you remember?" Harry threw her arms around her friend.

  "Harriet, oh my, you look so different I didn't recognize you."

  Elsie appeared as pale faced and nervous as before. Harry owed her for what she did on that dreadful day when Mrs. White locked her in the cellar. She doesn't get enough sun, that's why her skin is so pasty.

  "When do you have your lunch break? There's a little café around the corner, I'll buy you lunch."

  "You look so different, Harriet. Sort of rich."

  "I'm married now."

  "Really! Tell me everything. I'm engaged. Ted's being shipped overseas soon. When he comes back from the war we're going to get married."

  "Elsie." Mrs. White stomped up, and Elsie cringed.

  "Good morning, Mrs. White," Harry said chirpily. "Remember me?"

  "Yes, my girl, I remember you." Her lips thinned and her beady eyes grew mean. "Get off the premises or I'll set the police on you."

  "I'm taking Elsie to lunch. She's entitled to a break."

  "You insolent trollop." Mrs. White raised her hand.

  "I wouldn't if I were you. I'm married now. Mrs. Ross Calvert from Devil's Ridge. I don't expect you to know the name, but Mr. Littlejohn does. They both belong to the old Melbourne Grammarians."

  Elsie, stifling a laugh behind Mrs. White's back, egged Harry on.

  "In fact, my husband suggested I call on the Littlejohns for afternoon tea," she lied, watching with enjoyment as Mrs. White opened and shut her mouth like a stranded fish.

  "Get your hat, Else, and we'll be off. Mrs. White, I'll be giving Elsie my address, so if you feel tempted to take out any reprisals after I've gone, I suggest you don't."

  After the housekeeper minced off, they both burst out laughing.

  "Oh, Harriet, I don't know how you dare."

  "It's easy, she's a bully."

  Arm-in-arm they strolled to a little café, only a corner store but it had a couple of tables and chairs set up outside on the pavement.

  "We'll have some tea," Harry decided. "What would you like to eat?"

  "Sandwiches will do."

  Once their food arrived, Elsie asked. "How's your brother?"

  "He's dead." She told her friend the full story.

  "I'm so sorry."

  "I lost a brother but gained a husband. Poor Gil must have been sicker than anyone knew."

  She told the other girl about Devil's Ridge and Ross, only leaving out the real reason for their marriage.

  "Do you think the army will want your husband back?"

  "Yes, but I want him more," Harry banged the table with a clenched fist. "It isn't fair, he's done his bit."

  "I know, but there have been heaps of casualties. They're desperate for reinforcements, Ted says. He'll be leaving within a few weeks."

  Harry's heart constricted. If Ted was preparing to go, and Ross passed the medical, they could be leaving at the same time.

  "What is it, Harriet? You've gone so white."

  "If Ted's going overseas in a few weeks, Ross will probably go with him."

  They clutched each other's hands for comfort.

  "It's all right for the men," Elsie wailed. "They think it's a lark. We're the ones who are left behind to worry."

  "Ross knows how terrible war is, but still feels duty bound to go. I'll give you my address. If the old dragon starts anything after Ted's gone, you come up and stay with me. I'm hoping we'll start a baby before he goes away. Do you know anything about children?"

  "Nothing you can tell me about the little buggers. I'm the oldest of eight. Me mum just keeps popping them out. I tell her she should ask Dad to do something to stop having them, but she won't."

  "Can you stop it?" Harry asked. "How?"

  "Don't know exactly. Ted's mate is a doctor's son, and he said there are things a man can do so they don't make babies all the time. Before we get married, Ted's going to find out all the details. We only want a couple of the little buggers."

  "If you find out, let me know, Else. If I do have a baby and I need a nursemaid I'll contact you, or you can just come anyway."

  "I don't know whether I'd like living in the country. Ted grew up on a farm, though."

  "While he's away I mean. After the war if he needs a job, Ross will give him one. It would be good to be together again."

  "I'd like that, too." Elsie wiped her lips with a serviette.

  "Remember, if you ever need somewhere to stay, even if you don't want a job, I'll always have a place for you at Devil's Ridge."

  "It's nice of you, but you don't owe me anything."

  "Owe you? I could have died in that cellar, if it wasn't for you letting Gil know. Mrs. White, horrible old witch, would have left me there forever."

  Harry pressed a five pound note into her friend's hand. "Keep this hidden away somewhere. If you ever have to leave in a hurry, you'll have money for the fare."

  "I couldn't, five pound. Oh, I couldn't."

  "Yes you can. Ross gave it to me to spend, and I want you to have it. The old witch is unstable, could go off her head at any time."

  "All right, thanks." Elsie hid it in her shoe.

  "The tram's coming, so I won't walk back with you."

  They hugged each other, and Harry sprinted off to catch the tram.

  Sitting in the dummy, she watched people scurrying to and fro. Melbourne might be exciting with all its hustle, bustle and bright lights, but Devil's Ridge was the only place she wanted to be now. Its rugged grandeur and isolation soothed her restless spirit.

  As the tram rumbled on, thoughts ran around in her head. Six weeks since Gil's death, nearly four weeks since Ross first made love to her. Her heart suddenly leapt. There had been no monthly ailment since before Gil died. Surely this could mean a baby. She had always been regular as clockwork. Of course, a lot of things had happened since then, huge upheavals in her life. If only she had some older woman to talk things over with. A doctor maybe? She couldn't discuss such intimate things with a man, not yet anyway, it would be too embarrassing. Maybe she should have pumped Elsie for more information. She had told her a few things in a roundabout fashion, but Harry felt nervous about asking anything too specific, in case her friend jumped to conclusions.

  She beat Ross back to the Grand, even after filling in time wandering through the arcades running off Bourke and Collins Street. Walking around the city certainly wore you out. Bone weary, she didn't even have the energy to open up the boxes that had been delivered to their room.

  Taking off her clothes, she thankfully slipped between the sheets, enjoying the crisp coolness against her bare back. You're becoming quite wanton, Harriet Calvert.

  She must have dozed off because the door banging shut woke her. Groggily, she glanced around and saw Ross heading towards the bed.

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. Aren't you well?"

  "I'm tired from all the walking. How did it go?" She kicked the bedclothes off and sat up, and he sucked in a noisy breath.

  "Harry!"

  "What!" She glanced down at her nakedness, then his face and laughed. "Have I shocked you?"

  He sat on the bed to loosen his collar. "Cover yourself. We need to talk."

  "Is the army going to take you back?"

  "Yes."

  She surprised them both by bursting into tears.

  "Come on, don't cry. We expected it."

  "Oh, Ross, I don't want you to go."

  She sat on his knee, wrapping her arms tightly around his n
eck.

  "I'll have no say in it."

  As he licked her tears away, she put her quivering lips to the warm flesh at the side of his throat. He gave an agonized groan, pushed her gently back on the sheets and started kissing her with a rising passion. His hand cupped her breast, immediately her nipples burst into life. Her fingers worked frantically at his shirt. He shrugged out of it and threw it on the floor, his pants followed seconds later.

  No seduction this time. Their need, heightened by the black clouds of war, made them forget everything except the primeval urge to mate. They came together in a primitive, savage coupling that left their trembling bodies slicked with sweat.

  "My God, Harry. What are you doing to me?"

  They lay side by side for a moment until she asked huskily, "When?"

  "I have to report to Broadmeadows next week. After that I'm not sure."

  "There are troops leaving within the month."

  "How do you know?" He cupped a breast in either hand and absently played with them.

  "My friend Elsie told me. Her fiancé is going to France soon."

  "England first, I should imagine. There's a large Australian training camp at Salisbury Plain. I know I promised you a week of holidays down here in Melbourne, but I need to get back home to organize things. We can stay a couple of days more, if you want to."

  "No, I don’t want to stay here anymore."

  He hugged her tight. "I'm glad you think of Devil's Ridge as home."

  "I do, and I never want to live anywhere else."

  "Good. We've been invited to a party."

  "What?"

  "I ran into one of the chaps I went to school with at army head quarters. His wife is throwing him a birthday party tonight, so he invited me. I said we'd go, but of course if you don't want to, we can do something else."

  "No, I want to. I can wear the evening dress I bought today. Didn't think I'd be wearing it so soon, though. How many people will be there? It might be too posh for me."

  "Rubbish. Sarah, that's Andrew's wife, has invited a couple of her old school chums from the Presbyterian Ladies College."

  Presbyterian Ladies College, Melbourne Grammar, fear of letting him down, of humiliating him by doing the wrong thing, caused her stomach to turn cartwheels and she felt almost physically ill.

 

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