Lillian's Light Horseman

by Jasmine Hill

  Her body’s natural response to him had been amazing. She’d been open and uninhibited and she’d been so wet with desire that he’d wanted to sink to his knees and lose himself in her scent and her taste. His mouth watered as he envisaged spreading her sweet folds and thrusting his tongue deep inside her. A fierce shudder rocked through him, his cock straining against his pants at the image. Fuck. He had to think of something else before he blew his load like an inexperienced schoolboy.

  Abruptly, thoughts of his wife crowded his mind and swiftly his raging erection deflated. He sighed deeply as a vision of Ruth intruded upon his thoughts. Ruth had always been obliging in the marital bed, but he’d suspected that she hadn’t overly enjoyed the act of lovemaking and she most certainly had never responded in the brazen and needy fashion that Lillian just had. His very thoughts about such a matter left him riddled with guilt but he couldn’t help but compare the two. He’d loved his wife with a steady loyalty. However, theirs had never been an all-consuming, passionate union but a solid and dependable association that had suited them both.

  Lillian had changed in the ten years since he’d seen her. She was still beautiful. In fact, she was even lovelier than he remembered, but it was the change in her character that was most notable. She was no longer a sweet, flighty girl but a mature, almost solemn, young woman. He wondered what had happened, what she’d endured to take the sparkle out of her exceptional emerald eyes. It killed him that he didn’t know anything of her immediate past and cut him to the core that something had occurred to affect her so deeply. He clenched his fists in impotence and frustration.

  Now that she’d re-entered his life and he’d so carelessly given in to temptation and had tasted the forbidden fruit, he feared for his sanity and well-being even more. If he’d kept his distance as he’d promised himself he would, then his head wouldn’t now be filled with libidinous and lustful images—images unfortunately he knew would never leave him, making him more determined than ever to re-establish the professional boundaries between himself and Lillian.

  * * * *

  Lillian hadn’t slept well. Thoughts of William and his dexterous and experienced fingers had haunted her dreams and left her feeling tired and fractious. Luckily, William’s children provided her with a welcome diversion and she was delighted when they enthusiastically showed their excitement at having a governess. They were also polite and respectful and Lillian looked forward to teaching them. She suspected that the poor little things had been left largely to their own devices since the passing of their mother and she threw herself into the role of caregiver, educator and friend with relish and enthusiasm, and was pleased to discover that their mother had progressed their learning quite substantially.

  Lillian had not spoken to William all day. She’d watched out of her bedroom window when he’d ridden out early that morning and had marveled at the site of him on his horse. She could see how dashing and distinguished a Light Horseman he would have been. He handled his horse so confidently and he looked so handsome astride the large animal while he trotted around, ensuring that the men knew their duties. She could only imagine how commanding and formidable he would have looked in uniform.

  William had not joined the household for lunch. Mrs. Thompson explained that he’d be out all day, driving the cattle from one paddock to another, and wouldn’t be arriving back at the homestead until later that day.

  When he’d not appeared at dinner, she suspected he was avoiding her. She should have been grateful but she was surprised at the hurt his evasion caused her.

  Later that evening, sitting by the fire with Mrs. Thompson in the kitchen darning the children’s socks, she heard William arrive home. A moment later, his footsteps sounded on the stairs as he made his way to the children’s room to kiss them goodnight. She couldn’t help her sharp intake of breath as she acknowledged his presence in the house. Mrs. Thompson looked up from her work and gave her a sympathetic smile.

  “Why don’t you talk to him, Lillian?” she asked gently.

  “I can’t. He’s made his feelings very clear,” she responded softly. “He is determined to keep things between us professional, which I respect and I agree with. I just don’t understand what I did to make him dislike me so much.”

  Mrs. Thompson gave her a compassionate look. “Perhaps you both need to talk things through,” she suggested. “I think there must be a lot of things left unsaid and unexplained between you. Nothing will be resolved if you don’t communicate.”

  Lillian sighed heavily. “You’re right, of course, but I don’t believe William agrees with you.”

  “Give him time, Lillian. Your return to Mulga Creek has confused him. He’s accustomed to controlling every aspect of his life, and the fact that he obviously has unresolved feelings for you is upsetting his equilibrium.”

  Lillian arched an eyebrow in surprise. “I’m obviously upsetting his equilibrium but I don’t believe it’s due to unresolved feelings.”

  Mrs. Thompson smiled and patted her hand. “You’ll work things out. I remember how close you both were when you were younger. A friendship like that can’t be so easily disregarded. You also have to keep in mind Mr. Cartwright’s experiences in the war. He was a very well-decorated and respected Light Horseman, although he doesn’t speak a great deal about what happened over there. There is no doubt that he was a changed man when he returned. More somber…and he can be quite controlling at times. I think he became so used to giving orders that it’s hard for him to let go. But don’t you worry. I have complete faith that everything will work out,” she finished brightly.

  Lillian wished she had half of Mrs. Thompson’s faith and she wondered, not for the first time, how much the woman knew of their childhood intimacy. She finished neatly sewing closed a small hole in Edward’s sock when her thoughts drifted to William’s wife and her desire to learn more about the woman who had stolen William’s heart.

  “What was Ruth like?” she asked.

  Mrs. Thompson raised her eyebrows in surprise and thought a moment before answering. “She was a good woman—loyal and faithful and a loving mother. She doted on the children. Her death was extremely hard on them and they are only now just starting to come to terms with their loss. I do believe your presence here will be good for them, Lillian. They need a young woman in their life—not to take the place of their mother, of course, but to provide them with love and affection and guidance. I love them like they’re my own, but I’m more of a grandmother figure to them.”

  Lillian considered Mrs. Thompson’s words. “They are lovely children and I can see myself becoming attached to them.”

  “Ruth would approve of you,” the other woman stated matter-of-factly.

  “Was she beautiful—Ruth?”

  Mrs. Thompson frowned. “Not in the traditional sense. I believe she would have been described as handsome. She had good, strong features and a lovely nature, which made people think she was beautiful.”

  Lillian nodded. “I would have liked to have met her. I only hope that I do her memory justice and teach her children as efficiently as she has done.”

  The other woman smiled. “I’m sure that you will. In fact, I’m positive of it. Now, while I remember, I should tell you that Mr. George Dawson, who owns the property adjoining ours, is hosting a dance and supper tomorrow evening with his daughter, Margaret. It will do you good to get out and socialize and it will also be a good opportunity for you to meet some of the local families.”

  Lillian wasn’t sure if she felt much like mingling with new people but she supposed Mrs. Thompson was right. Admittedly, she was curious about their neighbors, and perhaps some dancing and music would lighten her spirits, helping her to forget William, even if only for a short while.

  Chapter Six

  Lillian assessed her reflection in the bedroom mirror. She’d dressed with care in her one and only decent dress. It was a long-waisted velvet gown in emerald green that plunged quite daringly in the front. She was beyond thankful that she�
��d had the forethought to keep it when she’d sold the remainder of her gowns. She’d wrapped a matching green scarf around her head, turban-style, and she wore her only necklace, a set of long pearls, which she’d knotted at her breasts. They’d belonged to her mother and she hadn’t been able to part with them. When she’d sold the majority of her aunt’s jewelry, she’d kept her mother’s pearls and a delicate gold filigree bracelet belonging to her aunt. She stepped into her only pair of evening shoes of black velvet and twirled in front of the mirror. She was happy with her appearance. The deep emerald green of her gown matched her eyes and highlighted them perfectly. She wrapped an ornately crocheted woolen shawl around her shoulders to ward off the winter evening chill and picked up a black velvet drawstring bag.

  Lillian made her way downstairs and met Mrs. Thompson in the hallway, looking very smart in a navy blue wool dress and matching hat.

  “Lillian, you look beautiful,” she cried enthusiastically. “You will be beating the men away with a stick!”

  Lillian laughed delightedly and followed the sounds of excited children into the drawing room. She’d dressed the children earlier that evening and was relieved to find that they’d managed to stay relatively neat and tidy.

  “You look so pretty, Miss Hamilton,” Clara stated, her eyes wide with awe and admiration.

  Lillian bent and gave the child a peck on the cheek. “Thank you, my darling.”

  As she straightened, she came face to face with William. Their gazes locked and they stared at each other, quietly assessing. They’d not spoken since their encounter in the back garden and there was a moment of awkward silence until William addressed her.

  “You are looking lovely this evening, Miss Hamilton.” He bowed slightly in deference.

  “Thank you, Mr. Cartwright. You too look quite dashing, if I may say so,” she said, blushing.

  He did look good—very good. His black evening jacket fit his broad shoulders perfectly and his trousers were expertly tailored to emphasize his narrow waist and lean hips while hugging his derrière deliciously. She was pleased to see that he’d left his hair to wave naturally and forgone the slick, greased-back hairstyle that was so popular among men of the day. The sudden urge to run her fingers through his unruly locks overwhelmed her and she clasped her hands behind her back before she could act on the impulse.

  William gifted her with a tight smile before he grasped his children’s hands.

  “Come, little ones. There is a party awaiting us,” he announced theatrically, sending the children into fits of laughter. Turning, he stepped aside and inclined his head in invitation for Lillian and Mrs. Thompson to precede him through the door and out into the waiting automobile.

  * * * *

  The party was in full swing when they arrived at the Dawson property. The large wool shed had been gaily decorated with lanterns and garlands. Tables, covered in crisp white cloths, lined the entirety of the back wall and were laden with punch bowls, sandwiches, cold meats and salads. Chairs and round tables sat scattered about the vast space, offering cozy areas where guests could relax and rest their feet. A band was playing popular dance tunes. The whole ambience was one of merriment and fun, and Lillian found herself smiling widely at the infectious mood.

  The children squealed in delight and ran off to join their friends as Mrs. Thompson moved off toward a group of older ladies, leaving Lillian and William alone.

  Lillian looked up at him and thought yet again how good he looked in a dinner suit—suave and sophisticated. He was easily one of the handsomest men at the gathering. Already he’d drawn the attention of several ladies and men. It was not only his looks but also his presence, she reasoned. He was so formidable and held himself with such an air of authority that it was impossible to overlook him.

  “It was good of you to invite Mrs. Thompson and me tonight,” she commented. “I wouldn’t have expected to come. After all, we just work for you.”

  He looked surprised. “Why wouldn’t I invite you both? As far as I’m concerned, Millie is part of the family—even more so since her husband died. You know she’s been with our household since I was born, and it was a good opportunity for you to meet some of the local families.”

  “All the same, thank you for including me.”

  He nodded, his hazel eyes burning into hers. “Come. Let me introduce you to some people,” he murmured, placing his palm on her lower back and gently propelling her forward.

  William looked down to where his hand rested on the small of Lillian’s back and battled the urge not to drag her hard against him. He’d barely been able to contain himself when he’d first seen her that evening at the house. He’d at once wanted to ravish her and lock her in her room so other men wouldn’t be able to look upon her. She looked so stunning it was all he could do not to drop his head and lose himself against her creamy throat and lush cleavage.

  He steered them in the direction of George Dawson’s group with the intention of introducing Lillian. He looked around as they traversed the room, furiously noting the attention she was receiving from all the men in the gathering. He gritted his teeth and pretended not to notice when a young man deliberately brushed against her. He tried hard to look impassive when other men stooped low to bow to her in awed admiration and, no doubt, he thought, to get an eyeful of her bountiful bosom. He looked down at Lillian to gauge her reaction at all the attention she was receiving and was pleased to note her blushing with such a self-effacing attitude as to make her even more appealing.

  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they reached Dawson.

  “Sir, thank you for hosting the dinner dance this evening,” William stated and bowed in greeting. “Please allow me to introduce Miss Lillian Hamilton, my children’s new governess.”

  Lillian took Mr. Dawson’s extended hand as he murmured a welcome. She didn’t miss the fact that his eyes seemed glued to her décolletage and for the first time, she wondered if her dress was too daring for the likes of an outback dinner dance. She straightened and pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, noting William’s scowl in George Dawson’s direction. William tugged her closer to his side and introduced her to the other guests in the circle. Something in his voice made Lillian glance at him when he made the introduction to Miss Margaret Dawson and she couldn’t miss the young lady’s blush and averted gaze when William looked upon her.

  She was very pretty—plump and vivacious with a sleek cap of blonde hair cut into a fashionable bob, which was no doubt considered highly irregular in the outback community. It was a cut that Lillian had considered, but she hadn’t had the time or the inclination to indulge in a new hairstyle while her aunt had been so sick.

  Could it be possible that William and this Miss Dawson had some sort of connection? She hoped fervently that she was mistaken but she planned to study the pair some more during the course of the evening to determine if there was any affection between them.

  She was pondering the question when a young man materialized before her, introduced himself as Mr. John Steele and asked her to dance. She glanced to her side and noticed that William was deep in conversation with Margaret and Mr. Dawson. Seeing that she wouldn’t be missed and glad of the diversion, she accepted. Smiling, the young man escorted her onto the dance floor and whirled her into a fast-paced waltz.

  Lillian exhilarated in the music and the dancing. It had been a long time since she’d been able to enjoy herself. Her aunt had been sick for so long, and afterward, she’d had the worry and responsibility of managing the will and discharging her father’s debts so she couldn’t remember when last she’d been able to relax. And young John Steele was an enjoyable dance partner. He was enthusiastic and danced with a practiced confidence that made Lillian all the more at ease with her own ability.

  He looked down at her and twirled her effortlessly around the floor. “So I hear that you’re Cartwright’s new governess. Do you know the family well?”

  “I knew them a long time ago, before my family mo
ved to England. “

  “How well do you know William Cartwright?”

  The question surprised Lillian and she wondered if there was more to his inquiry. She decided that she’d play down her previous association. “We were childhood friends but as I said, we’ve not seen each other for ten years.”

  She looked up at him and wondered at the play of emotions crossing his features.

  “We served together as Light Horsemen, which was quite common, given that we’re all excellent horsemen here in the bush,” he said with a self-effacing laugh. “He was an officer in my regiment, a good military man.” He grimaced. “He was well decorated but you wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of him.”

  Lillian frowned in puzzlement. She hadn’t known William ever to display a particularly bad disposition but then everyone knew that the war could change people.

  “I hate to mention anything—what happens away, stays away and all that—but I just think that you should be careful around him. He has quite a temper. Let me just say that his boxing skills are legendary and there has been more than one man on the receiving end of his fists.”

  Lillian stiffened at his allegations of William’s violence. She wondered what it was all about but dismissed it as inconsequential. She wouldn’t take anything that this stranger said at face value. “Thank you for your concern, Mr. Steele, but I can look after myself,” she said coolly, effectively drawing a close to the topic of conversation.