* * * *
With the evening meal cooked and ready to be served and the daylight waning, Ella dressed in a dark brown taffeta she’d had fashioned two years ago so that she could attend formal functions with Papa. She presented herself in the kitchen and took her apron from the hook behind the door.
“My,” Rose said, staring. “You look very fine. Perhaps I ought to have a gown made in that color…after we get our money, of course.”
“And after we have bought the house?”
Rose took the serving spoons from the dresser drawer and made a sound of agreement.
Ella breathed out with relief. “If you want your inheritance to take to your husband, Vianna and I would be able to buy your share of a house somehow.”
Rose gave a cynical smile. “I won’t be marrying a man who wants my money. I have a very ambitious godmother. She has watched over me carefully these past two years. Men are more calculating than one supposes.” From the cupboard beneath the dresser, she took out the biggest meat plate and a covered vegetable dish, both gold-edged white china. “For a shearer, you would be a good catch. Be careful. That said, perhaps Vi should come out of black, too.”
“And what about you? When do you plan to come out of black?”
“When we get back to the city.” Rose glanced down at the beautiful black silk she wore. “I won’t have any use for these when I start enjoying life again.”
Ella sliced the meat. When Rose married, and nothing could be more certain than that event, life would continue as Papa had preordained. Ella would, possibly, take care of a few nieces and nephews in addition to Vianna. She couldn’t be a good catch for the handsome shearer who thought she was a delight, who kissed her as if she were a temptation, and who walked off when he discovered her inexperience. He wanted to dally with a woman but not one who expected marriage. Fortunately, she couldn’t marry a poor man, but the chance to be someone’s delight and their temptation didn’t come every day.
Rose piled the vegetables into the dish. “Where is that lazy child? She ought to be helping us.”
Ella went to the hall doorway and called, “Vianna!”
Vianna came out of the drawing room. “I was just getting my music ready for tonight. I thought I would play for the shearers after dinner,” she said defensively.
“I’m sure they would be very pleased.” Ella scraped the gravy into the boat. “Take this out and the vegetables, Vi. You go out, too, Rose. I won’t be much longer.”
Cal took one glance at her sophisticated presentation and seated himself at the other end of the table. Instead of being fazed, she was satisfied. If he sat by her, she would be unable to control the tremble of her hands and the clench of her throat.
She watched him when she thought he wasn’t looking, noticing that the other shearers treated him with unusual respect, following the lead of Alf, who also watched him when he thought no one was looking. Cal apparently impressed males just as much as females. Vianna lurked around him like a cat wanting to be stroked, but Rose let her brief interest rest on Ned, who had a tendency to tweak his moustache whenever she glanced at him. Ella, unfortunately, didn’t have an effect on Cal.
Finally the meal finished, and she washed the plates. Rose wiped. Dusk lowered outside. She saw Cal, Girl at heel, leave the men’s quarters and stroll behind the woolshed, heading for the river, possibly meaning to take a swim.
For the next ten days, she planned to be a woman rather than Papa’s daughter. For the rest of her life, she would be the responsible spinster guardian of her younger sister. She would never again meet a man who said she was irresistible. Her first chance was her last.
After putting the plates away, she took a sheet of paper from the dresser and wrote a quick note for the local dairy farmer, Nathaniel Lannock, who took his milk to the township every morning, filling the empty cans he passed along the way. Since Papa had died, Mr. Lannock had kindly delivered the milk to the back door. Clattering and bumping with her heavy load, she half-dragged the knee-high empty can to the front gate.
She returned past the apricot and plum trees, their fruit picked last month, the apples and pears with a couple of months to go, and the heavily laden peach trees. She skirted behind the stables and the woolshed.
Tonight, she intended to see if, despite her inexperience, she could lead Cal into temptation and deliver him from evil restraint.
Chapter 5
Cal, accompanied by Girl, circled past the billabong. The crackling leaves beneath his feet released the heady fragrance of eucalyptus oil. He needed to get away and cool himself off. Tonight, Ella had dressed in a dull brown gown that instead of rendering her invisible, did the opposite. The rigid cut contrasted with the lush curves beneath, causing him to think of nothing else. Had she been older or more experienced, he wouldn’t feel guilty about his attraction to her. Not only did she amuse him, he wanted her gown unhooked and his hands all over her lithe and luscious body. First, before he had his way with her.
Without distracting himself, he would be aiming for far more than flirting, but this was practical Ella with big beautiful eyes, a mischievous mouth, and no man to protect her. He had a responsibility to his upbringing to treat young ladies with the respect they deserved, and she deserved more than most. She worked like a drover’s dog from dawn until dusk despite being largely unskilled. Tonight’s meal was overcooked, the meat was tough, the vegetables were watery, and the gravy was almost solid with lumps. Lord help them all for the next few weeks.
He removed his boots and socks. The sun had died, casting a soft gray over the treetops. Night birds rustled through the undergrowth, searching out grubs. He loved this land of his birth—the soft cream of the stones; the warm ocher of the soil; the restful blues and greens of the growth; and the pastel whites, grays, reds, and pinks of the timber.
Although the summer flow was low in the river, the water raced past fresh and clear. Reeds filled the edges. Dwarf gums, pink gums, and stringy barks grew a few feet away with a lower canopy of acacias and tea trees. He scooped his shirt over his head and found a hefty twig, which he slung into the water. Girl leaped after for her regular game.
About to remove his trousers, he heard a crunching of dry leaf litter. He turned and saw Ella approach. His mouth dried.
“Are you planning on taking a swim?”
“Yes,” he said firmly. “I’m also planning on removing all my clothes and so you might want to leave.”
She remained on the bank near his shirt and shoes. “I don’t know what I might want to do. These days I only know what I have to do. My papa was a remittance man. Do you know what that is?”
He tried to read her expression but couldn’t, so he paused by the water’s edge. “Someone who is paid to live elsewhere by his family.”
“In a nutshell. My father was born in England and he had an inheritance from his grandfather. He gambled the lot away before he turned twenty-five and met my mother, with whom he fell instantly in love,” she said, her gaze resting on his face. “Without the guarantee of an income, they couldn’t marry, and so his father gave him yearly increments for ten years to move to this new colony. They bought this property with my mother’s inheritance.”
He swept his hand through his hair. “Why do you tell me this?”
“By the time my mother was a little older than Rose, the only thing of value she owned was her jewelry.” She stared across the river. “When Papa died, he left all her jewelry to Rose. Everything, down to the simplest chain. I suppose that would be some sort of tradition, to leave the most valuable possessions to the oldest daughter?”
“Like primogeniture?”
“Rose would never sell an item and perhaps Papa thought I might.”
“If he wanted to keep the collection together, he would leave the lot to one daughter,” he said finding the conversation puzzling.
“Is that how a man thinks?”
He nodded, having no idea if that was how her fat
her thought.
“I was so hurt,” she said. “Silly, really, when I know Rose would look far more beautiful than I in Mama’s diamond set. I’d assumed he left her the best because he loved her best.”
He put one hand to the back of his neck, frowning. “I don’t know how valuable the diamond set is, but I’m quite sure that your father, being a mere man, applied logic when he decided on the carriage pair for you.”
“Which would you have given me?”
“Both,” he said promptly and wished he had held his tongue.
She aimed a rather conscious smile at him. “Because I’m irresistible?”
“Because I don’t have either and it’s easy for me to say.”
She walked slowly over to him, lifted her palm to his upper arm, and watched her fingers skim lightly against his hot skin. He tightened his bicep in order not to let her touch effect him.
“I thought you were going to remove your trousers,” she murmured.
He groaned inwardly.
“I might be inexperienced, but I’m ready and willing to learn anything you care to teach me.” The backs of her fingertips whispered across the hair on his chest.
His flesh tingled and his heartbeat accelerated. All too tempted, he lifted his hand to the wisp of hair in front of her ear and tucked the lock behind. “You need to keep yourself for your husband.”
“I don’t have a husband.”
“I’m not rich enough for you.” His thumb brushed the side of her face and he noted the burnished gold of her lowered lashes.
“Foolish man. I don’t want to marry you.”
“You say that now.” His voice was gruff with amusement. “But if I got you into trouble, what choice would you have? Or I?”
She raised her gaze.
At that moment, Girl bounded out of the water, raced up to him, and dropped a stick near his feet. She stepped sideways, planted all four feet firmly in the sand, and shook her coat, sending a cool spray of water over them.
Ella gasped and stepped back.
With the woman he shouldn’t touch out of his reach, and without her hair stirring against his cheek, her hand wandering over his skin, he could think. He’d known from the start she was out of bounds.
Drawing an agonized breath, he turned quickly, dropped his trousers, and sprinted through the water. He dived under and swam to the middle of the river. Girl joined him, grinning. He cupped her chin. “Good, Girl.”
But for Girl’s distraction, he might have given in to his lust. Even now his body disagreed with his decision, though he could deal with that. Glancing over to where Ella had been, he noted she had gone. With luck his rejection of her offer would keep her away from him in future. He hoped so.
He didn’t know if he could reject her again.
* * * *
Half an hour later, he presented himself back in the quarters. The men had organized themselves a game of two-up. They’d set their lanterns in a circle. The floor vibrated with their stamping and calls. Almost unseen, he stretched out on his bed and watched.
Instead of Ella’s subtle floral scent, he had the pleasure of Ned’s pomade, Benji’s sheep-smelling shirt, and the foot odor of nine bootless men. Instead of being propositioned by a very desirable young female, he heard Frank’s long story of how his Aunt Abby had a rotten tooth pulled by a traveling salesman while pennies thudded to the floor and men shoved at each other to see which landed first, the heads or the tails.
“You’re back,” Alf said, gathering his winnings. Ned glanced up, smirked, and took the bets for the next throw. “Do you want to join in the game?” Alf sat beside Cal on his bed, making a wad of his pennies in a crushed handkerchief.
Cal shook his head. “I’d rather get some sleep.”
“I suspicion you don’t gamble. Mr. Beaufort now, if he was still alive, he’d be in here like a shot, winning everyone’s wages or losing his own shirt—it didn’t matter no-how to him.” Alf had shorn on the same properties for twenty years or more. “Used to have a yellow gig and a whole stable o’ horses. I b’lieve he sent Miss Rose off to the city to see if she could make his fortune.” Alf winked. “Marry into money, you know. Instead she’s back here cooking.”
Cal didn’t give a damn about the lovely Rose, who had a pair of bored eyes. Nice looking she might be, but her conversation consisted of polite comments and impartial words. She couldn’t combat his normal seriousness with an apt comment the way Ella did, and she lacked Ella’s vitality. Although Cal appreciated that Rose helped in the homestead, he doubted she had ever considered helping Ella with the real work. “I suspect she didn’t find a husband in the city because none could afford her.”
Alf chuckled. “She’d be expensive. Gowns o’ silk, she wears, and very fine. No man with the sense o’ a lamb would miss that. Reckon you didn’t.”
Cal had missed noticing Rose’s gowns. Ella dressed well but normally she wore cotton. Tonight she might have been wearing silk, but she didn’t need silk. She could ensnare a man with her smiles and stay him with her willingness.
If he continued to help her, she would repay him with her only currency—herself. Only a cad would accept that from an innocent when he knew he planned to leave.
“Nevertheless, with her looks, she would have caused quite a stir.”
Alf slanted him an impartial glance. “You would reckon so.”
“Her sisters will, too.”
“Don’t reckon you would be fixing fences and training dogs if you didn’t think that.”
Cal grinned reluctantly. “The youngest is a baggage.”
“She’s a small ’mount spoiled. That’s to be expected. Ho. Tails, tails.” Alf rose to his feet and thumped Benji on the back. “Good lad. You almost won back your pay.”
Cal lay back with his arms behind his head. He thought he should catch up on his lost sleep.
And try not to think of Ella’s mouth on his face, on his chest, on his... He groaned and rolled over onto his stomach.
* * * *
Ella arrived back at the homestead, wondering how awkward the moment might have been but for Girl. Although she had not expected to be refused, she knew Cal still wanted her. She wished she hadn’t told him of her hurt over the inheritance. She had sounded jealous of her sister, which in the matter of the jewelry she had to admit she was. After all, she would scarcely own a carriage any time in the near or distant future. If Papa had meant her to keep those horses as a reminder of him, she likely couldn’t. Better a simple chain she could wear around her neck.
A lamp still burned in the drawing room, an area she kept as highly polished as the day Mama had died. A red velvet sofa and a set of armchairs; side tables; and an ornate, glass-fronted bookcase stood down one end of the room and the other held Vianna’s piano, at which Rose sat. “Judging by the time you took, I would swear you counted each and every peach in the orchard.”
Ella faced her sister without mentioning where she had been. “Rose, I rode along the fence line today. I should have done so months ago.” She deposited her behind in the armless velvet chair, watching her sister finger the piano keys while she listened. “The posts are rotten. Wire is down everywhere. Where the fences are not breached, there’s no grass, and where they are, the loose sheep wander far and wide. They’ve made bogs of their water holes and hideouts in the scrub. I imagine plenty have disappeared.”
Rose shrugged. “Tell Jed.”
“He can’t do more than he does and we need him to help the shearers. He has to bring in the sheep and take them back to pasture, a time-consuming job that is utterly necessary to our future plans. I can help him. I know what needs to be done. With just a few improvements, we can make this place more saleable.”
“If you want to oversee the property, do so,” Rose said in a dismissive voice. “I suspect you need to get this place out of your system. You’ll soon see what Papa tried to teach you—that women are the weaker sex.”
Her father h
ad taught Ella little more than the fact that, as a daughter, she was of value only on the homestead. She could, however, work on the land, weaker than a man or not.
Nevertheless, she didn’t go to sleep that night deciding which fences needed to be attended to first. Instead, she plotted how she would convince Cal to change his mind and romance her.
* * * *
Edward wasn’t a man to fuss or complain, but he’d had the worst two nights’ sleep of his entire life and in a hotel only six hours from home, detained by a broken carriage wheel before he’d barely started his journey.
He’d spent his first day asking questions in the bank and making investigations around the town while trying to stretch a back aching from sleeping on a mattress that he would swear was stuffed with gumnuts. He doubted the blankets had been aired in a twelvemonth. Even a cat couldn’t be left in a room as small, and if he’d had to wait any longer for this morning’s overcooked breakfast, he might well nigh have fainted from starvation.
“You ate half a loaf of bread before your chops came,” Sam said with indignation. “And your bed was no worse nor mine, and mine was as good as I’ve slept in.”
“Ha,” Edward said, easing himself down on a high-backed hall chair in the lobby of the Caledonian Inn. “That’s what I mean. My bed was no better than yours. I should have had the best.” As the owner of the biggest private holding in the colony, comprising a homestead the size of a small town, a horse stud, a cattle stud, a dairy, a townhouse, and various pockets of housing in the city, he was used to no less.
“Yes, y’honor,” Sam said through clenched teeth. He threw up his hands and walked up the hall and out into the sunlight.
“Mutton chops,” muttered Edward, outraged. He lifted a foot to rest on his overnight valise. “I own most of the sheep in this part of the world. I should have been given beefsteak. They know who I am.”
Almost thirty years ago, he had arrived in this colony from England with money in his pocket and a will to make more. Now he owned enough well-fenced sheep to cover the horizon. Not only that—after a heated discussion two years ago with his grandson, Charlton, he’d let the lad have dams dug and wells sunk on his property. Fortunately, this added expense had more than doubled his profits.
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