Ella shot a quick glance at the dog, who stared right back at her. Ella was sure the dog was Girl. The border collie widened her mouth, narrowed her eyes, and flattened her ears. Certain the dog had indicated her sympathy, Ella gave her the signal to round up—a circle with her hand—and pointed to the man and her horses.
Like a released arrow, Girl gave chase. Ella started running after them. Her hat slipped to one ear and the feather tickled her cheek.
The rider entered the scrub by the river, disappearing from view. Girl bounded over the undergrowth. For a moment, Ella paused, straightening her hat and trying to see the direction the fat man had taken—the fat man, the man she had seen only last week outside the mews. The horse thief who had come all the way to Adelaide to take his darned horses back.
“You are the thief,” she yelled as, skirts held high, she left in hot pursuit. “Help, someone. Help me stop him.”
* * * *
Cal rode up the narrow street by the river where he had been told Mrs. Cameron lived. Girl had gone on ahead, perhaps on the trail of a smell in which to roll. He had every confidence she would rejoin him, although she’d never been in this area before. She always found him after she had completed her personal business.
At the far end of the street, he heard a yell and saw a woman jump over a fallen tree by the embankment of the river. She wore a brown riding skirt and a tiny, feathered hat dangling from her neck by its ribbon. Almost instantly, the scrub hid her from view. He turned his horse into the driveway of the Cameron house.
Vianna strolled out of the front door. She put up her hand to shade her eyes. “You look rich,” she said, a saintly smile on her face. “A suit, no less, and a white shirt. And what a lovely horse.”
“He was bred by my grandfather.” Cal dismounted. “You’ve heard the story, I assume.”
“I’m shocked,” Vianna said piously. “I never thought you would tell a lie.”
“Yours is a family of pedants. I made an omission and didn’t, strictly, lie.”
“Omissions are the worst kinds of lies, Ella says. She isn’t here. Do you want to apologize to me and Rose?”
“I apologize. Where is Ella?”
“She went down to the mews. She planned on taking a ride to the city.”
Cal’s head lifted. The woman he had seen was Ella. He should have recognized that silly little feathered hat of hers. She must have been unseated by her horse and was even now trying to catch it. Making a quick decision, he swung up into his saddle again. “I’ll find her and apologize to her.”
“Don’t worry. She won’t forgive you,” Vianna called after him.
Perhaps Ella wouldn’t, but he’d never been faint of heart and he had a fair maid to win. At least he could help catch her mount, even if they couldn’t have a productive conversation. He made a determined mouth, urging his horse into a canter. Following the trail of the flattened grass, he let his horse beat his way to the river.
High in the trees, a family of magpies gave warning trills. He heard an almighty splash, a male shout of triumph, and the thud of retreating hoofbeats. Not able to guess by the sound what had happened, Cal increased his horse’s pace. He reached the river’s edge to see some sort of turmoil in the water farther along. A head made a vee of the water flowing past. Ella’s head. Reminded of the time he had fished her out of the billabong, his heart leaped into his throat.
She flailed. He saw her submerge. His chest thudding like a drum, he dashed his horse through the water. The riverbed receded. He directed his horse diagonally toward Ella. As he neared, her splashing ceased. She changed direction, turning toward the bank, bobbing, then dragging something black and sodden. Her hat floated downstream.
“Ella. Paddle. Don’t stop moving,” he called, hoping she could stay afloat until he reached her.
She gave a spluttery gasp and gurgled something like “Kung.”
Iced with fear, he urged at his horse, getting no perceptible response. He thought to dismount and swim to Ella but realized he could almost reach her. Leaving one leg balanced across his saddle, he held his reins and stretched out to her. He grabbed her skirts, trying to give her floatation. This submerged her. His horse turned toward the bank, pulling on the reins. Fighting the horse and catching hold of Ella seemed near to impossible.
She reappeared, gasping, floating on the water, but going nowhere. Although it was unlikely, she appeared to be doing a form of swimming, a push forward while she pulled the bundle. With an extra kick of his legs he reached out, catching her collar. He tugged and the waterlogged weight of her inched toward him.
“Careful. Careful,” she spluttered, not using her arms to help herself.
“Hold onto me, Ella.”
“Can’t.” Finally she swiveled around enough for him to see the wet bundle of black hair in her arms.
The bundle hung limply. Girl. “Leave her go, Ella. She can swim better than you or me.”
“She’s tied,” Ella wheezed. “She’ll drown.”
“So will you if you don’t let her go.”
Ella’s mouth shut and the expression on her face tightened. He could see she meant to try and strike out for the bank, carrying the dog. With no other option he fought for possession of Girl, finding the dog wrapped in rope, legs caught up and useless. He shoved the dog on the saddle and then hauled the woman into a firm grip. “Hold onto the saddle. We’re going ashore.”
With the horse’s panicked cooperation, they reached the water’s edge in no time. Ella arose in the shallower water. Streams ran from her face and hair. She lifted the dog into her arms as she tried to catch her breath.
Cal took Girl from her, leaving his horse to stumble up the bank. “I think you were swimming. But for the dog, you probably would have made it back safely.”
She covered her chest with her palm, breathing hard and coughing. “But for you, I would have made it back safely. Swimming is easy. All you have to do is try.”
He sat on the bank of the river, hauling her down beside him. The limp dog lay across his lap, the rope tangled tightly. Cal began untying knots, noting the rise and fall of the exhausted dog’s chest.
Ella stretched a hand out to the dog and cupped Girl’s chin. “He lassoed her like a calf and slung her into the water.” She gave another watery cough. “I can’t believe that anyone would do anything so cruel. She might have drowned.”
Girl wriggled. She lifted her head and tried to lick Ella’s fingers.
Cal stared, nonplussed. His dog had never before shown a trace of affection to a person other than him. “I have no idea what happened here, but you obviously saved my dog’s life. I don’t know why. You’re not a swimmer and you should have shouted for help.”
“Help from whom? I was the only one here.”
“Who threw her in the water and why?”
“Give me a moment to catch my breath.” She leaned forward, head in her hands and breathing deeply. Finally, she said, “It was that fat horse thief. He stole his darned horses from the mews. Girl caught up to him and annoyed him into stopping. So he roped her and tossed her into the river.”
“The horse thief?”
“He said I was a thief to have the horses and so I suspect they were his all along. I told Rose we shouldn’t keep them and I was right.”
“I should have taken those men into custody when I had the chance. I thought it was enough to get the horses back.”
“We could never have handled all those horses with the thieves as well.”
“You’re shivering.”
“I think it’s shock. Imagine that.” She stared at the river. “I went into the water and I tried to swim. I didn’t think I ever would.”
Cal struggled out of his suit jacket. “I would give you this but it’s wetter than you.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. As you know, I’m quite tough.”
“Yes. Tough and strong and witty and clever. I came today to ask you to marry me.”<
br />
“You’re the heir. You can have anyone.”
“But could I if I weren’t the heir?”
Ella wrung the water from her hair. “You would be left with someone like me—the wrong sister. Oh, I know your family and Mrs. Cameron wanted Rose for you. I’d have to be deaf and blind not to. Unfortunately for you, Rose fell in love with Mr. McLaren two years ago.”
“It’s not unfortunate for me and it’s very fortunate for McLaren. He will have a beautiful bride and live happily ever after.”
As if she hadn’t heard a word he said, Ella stood. “As will I. I shall buy a house and live very comfortably with Vi until she leaves me. She is as beautiful as Rose and shouldn’t have any difficulty finding a suitable husband. So you don’t need to feel sorry for me.”
“I don’t feel sorry for you.” He stood, too, leaving Girl to rise to her feet and shake herself groggily. “You’re not the wrong sister.”
“I’ve been the wrong sister all my life.” She gave a faint smile. “My Papa never thought I was worth much. He wouldn’t let me help run the station and he sent Rose to the city to catch a rich husband. He didn’t imagine I could do either of those things. He kept me at home to care for Vi.”
“You’ve done a wonderful job with her. Rose wouldn’t have had the patience.”
“Papa knew that. He also knew that if he left the chestnuts to me, I would sell them to take care of my sisters. That’s why he didn’t leave me the portrait of Mama or her jewelry. The beauty was left the jewelry. The baby was left a remembrance of her Mama. I was left the means to take care of them both.”
“Your father knew you well.”
“He knew no man would want me other than as a diversion on his journey through life.”
“And a greater role you could not play,” he said, grinning widely. Too late he realized he had hurt her—in too many ways. A woman whose father was an irresponsible gambler would need great faith before trusting another man. He put his hands on her upper arms and tried to draw her close. “No one has ever diverted me quite as much as you,” he said with heartfelt tenderness.
“I’m glad I was of use.” She pushed him away. “To thank me, instead of an offer of marriage that would suit neither of us, you could catch the thieves and get rid of them for all time. I’ll grow old very quickly if I have to chase horses every few months.”
He frowned. “How does it happen that Girl saw the thief take the horses?”
“She was trying to round me up and take me back to Mrs. Cameron’s house,” Ella said with a frown. “Bossy dog. I don’t like her any more than I like you.”
“You do,” Cal said, patting Girl, who was gazing at Ella. “You love her and you love me. I’m not going to chase your thief again unless you say you will marry me.”
She stared at the ground. “I believed every word you said and you lied to me. My father lied to me, too. I loved him, but he didn’t once say he cared for me. I won’t love anyone I can’t trust.”
“I’m not your father,” he said in a quiet voice. “I don’t expect you to look after your sisters. I will take full responsibility for Vianna as long as necessary. I’ll buy you a new silly little feathered hat, too.”
She put her hand up to her head, possibly noticing for the first time that her hat had been lost. “I don’t want hats. I don’t want to lose responsibility for Vi. I’m not a virgin and I can’t marry you. I made love with a shearer whose name I didn’t know.”
“You don’t know when to stop, do you?” He lifted her chin. “No matter what you say, you can’t stop me wanting you.”
“Ah, wanting me,” she said, raising both palms to his chest. “That’s a whole other subject.”
“You brought up making love because you’re burning for me. You can’t think of anything but this.” He swept her into his arms and his mouth descended on hers.
He enjoyed her unplanned response. She let him meld them into one, lifting her arms around his neck and clinging to him. His need for her stunned him. He didn’t know how he’d found the strength to leave her for one week, let alone five. The kiss grew in intensity, deeper, harder. He bit at her lips and nipped at her throat, licking the taste of the river from her skin.
Suddenly she broke free of him. “I won’t let you do this to me ever again.” She lifted her sodden gown from her legs and walked backward.
“I hope you don’t mean that.” He read the obstinacy in her face and sighed. Collecting his horse, he took the reins and swung on. Girl, smelling of damp fur, leaped to the saddle in front of him. “I’m off to capture Mr. Fatman. I’m going to tie him into a tighter parcel than he tied Girl, and then I’m going to find his friend and deliver them both to the police. I let them go once. I gave them a second chance. I made a mistake. I won’t give them a third.”
He left at a gallop with no time to waste. The sooner he completed his tasks, the sooner he could work out what she needed from him.
* * * *
Ella trudged back to Mrs. Cameron’s house, achingly sad, desperately lonely, and utterly humiliated. She didn’t know how she’d faced Cal today. She’d told him she wanted a rich husband. Then he turned out to be rich. She couldn’t have sounded shallower.
After entering through the courtyard at the back of the house, she squelched up the stairs to her bedroom, which was fortunately unoccupied. She removed her clothes, took a towel from the rack, dried herself, and bundled up her hair. Outside, she heard the hoofbeats of an approaching rider. Daniel McLaren, most likely. Heaving a deep sigh, she took a yellow-striped day gown and dressed for the third time that day. At the ball, one of the few times she’d looked nice, she’d not been in Cal’s presence long enough for him to notice. Then again, as he didn’t love her, he wouldn’t have cared.
She took some time drying her hair and brushing the length into the same smooth swirl she’d worn last night, thinking she may as well try for elegance since beauty eluded her. Then she wasted her whole effort by lying on top of her bed and crying about the times when she hadn’t been brave enough, strong enough, or beautiful enough to help Papa.
Tears flooded her cheeks.
Cal had said Papa must have known her very well—he had expected her to support her sisters after he died if they hadn’t married. That implied trust in her. She sat up and blew her nose. Perhaps he didn’t think she was as inadequate as she had assumed. Perhaps she was just being maudlin because Cal, given the opportunity, hadn’t said he loved her.
She’d known from the start he was a responsible citizen. When she’d been unable to manage the station, he had taken time to teach and help her. He’d not set out to make love to her. That had only happened at her insistence. And he’d offered to marry her if he’d left her with a child. She’d been the one to refuse to marry a shearer. Only an hour ago she’d refused to marry the heir to the greatest fortune in the colony—because he didn’t love her. How perverse could she be? She dried her face. The least she could do was go downstairs and meet the man who loved her sister.
After an hour in the company of the lovebirds, she saw that Rose had chosen her husband cleverly. She would be able to control Daniel without too much trouble. The man would give her whatever she wanted within his means, and she would repay him by being the serene and beautiful wife he craved.
For herself, Ella wanted so much more—a husband who loved and adored her and didn’t think that her face was the whole sum of her.
As she began undressing for bed that night, Rose came into her room. “Here,” she said, holding out a velvet box. “I want you to keep this.”
Ella opened the box and saw the amber necklace she had worn to the ball. “Are you sure?”
“It’s something of Mama’s to remember her by,” Rose said airily. “Besides that, the beads are too clumsy for me.” She left the room looking pleased with herself.
Smiling, Ella got into bed. She’d been told she could have something too clumsy for her sister. She would take th
at as a compliment. Either that or begin crying again.
Cal hadn’t returned.
Chapter 21
“You should see this, Ella,” Vianna called from the sitting room. “The most elegant carriage I’ve ever seen, pulled by two beautiful grays, has stopped outside. The horses would compare well to those chestnuts you sold.”
Ella, about to stroll upstairs with a book, stopped and reversed into the sitting room. Although just before midday and during the time of receiving morning calls, she knew no one who might call on her. Nevertheless, she wanted to see who might own smart carriage horses. She remembered Cal telling her he knew someone with grays.
“It looks like a king and queen arriving,” Vianna continued. She sat with her nose poking into the lace covering the front windows. “A gray-haired man with a tall top hat and a woman in a green gown decorated with tiny green silk leaves on the bodice. She ought to be crowned with a tiara, but she has a hat of big silk leaves instead. And behind them is a handsome prince. Wearing princely cream trousers. By all that’s wonderful. It’s Cal.” She shut the curtains and pushed past Ella to get to the front door.
Ella grasped her shoulder as she passed. “Leave the maid to do her job,” she said in a strangled voice. “It must be the whole of the Lynton family. How embarrassing. I’ll get Aunt.”
While Vianna scurried back into the sitting room, Ella hastened up the passage to the tiny library at the back of the house where Aunt sat reading. “The Lyntons have arrived.”
“My.” Mrs. Cameron put her hands to her carefully coiffed hair. “All of them?”
“All that I know about.”
Mrs. Cameron took Ella’s hand and walked with her to the sitting room, where they saw a polished shoe disappearing through the doorway. “Tea, instantly,” she whispered to the maid who had stopped in the hall. “And that pink-iced cake. How delightful that you have come,” she said moving like a ship in full sail into the room. “I see you’ve met Vianna. And here is my dear Ella.”
Taking a breath, Ella offered her hand to Mrs. Irene Lynton. Cal’s mother wore long pearl earrings and a lustrous three-stranded pearl necklace. Ella turned to Edward Lynton, who smiled courteously. “Miss Dorella. Do you mind if we call you Ella?”
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