Lillian's Light Horseman

by Jasmine Hill

  He lowered her gently to the floor. “That should ensure you think about me all evening, even when I am not at your side.”

  “Hmm,” she hummed lazily and dropped her dress. The realization of what she’d just done hit her and mortification took hold. She blushed fiercely, looking anywhere but at William’s reflection.

  “Hey,” he said sternly, cupping her chin and angling her head so that she was forced to look into his eyes. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart. Don’t shy away from your feelings—embrace them.” He dropped a kiss to the top of her head. “Now, finish getting ready and meet me downstairs,” he instructed before leaving her alone.

  “William’s right. I need to get over my silliness.” She fixed her hair, re-pinning a loose tendril. The things they did were so intimate and still so new to her that she couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. But she determined to lose her embarrassment. After all, she loved him and the things they did together felt so right and so special that it could be nothing but good.

  She finished adjusting her hair and makeup, straightened her dress then proceeded downstairs to meet William.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Coolabah town hall was beautifully decorated for the occasion of the Picnic Race Day Ball. Garlands of eucalyptus leaves and wattle hung from the eaves and adorned tables, filling the hall with an appealingly fresh aroma. A band was set up on the central stage playing popular dance tunes and adding to the general air of festivity, and along the walls long tables were laden with roast meat, salads and cakes. A bar had been erected on one side of the room, offering punch, beer and goblets of wine.

  William kept his hand on Lillian’s lower back as he steered her into the ballroom. She looked lovely. Her mahogany hair was piled on top of her head with tendrils curling delicately around her face. Her emerald eyes sparkled and her cheeks were flushed with excitement and, he suspected, with the after-effects of the orgasm he’d recently given her. He wasn’t happy about the amount of her creamy plump cleavage that was exposed but apparently it was fashion—or so he was told—so he’d quickly fallen silent on the subject.

  He constantly marveled at the changes he saw in Lillian. She was still his Lilly but she was also so much more mature and womanly, and if he’d thought at sixteen that she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, then at twenty-six, she was stunningly beautiful. In those ten years, she’d developed curves in all the right places, her face had grown more refined and she’d acquired an agreeable maturity and worldliness. Even her more somber, reflective attitude appealed to him. She was magnificent, and every time he looked at her, his breath hitched in awe and a cold fear would grip him—fear that he would lose her again. He was trying to tread very carefully with her. He wanted to make it so that she couldn’t be without him, so that she wouldn’t even be tempted to look at another man—he wanted her to need him, as he needed her. Only then could he be confident in taking their relationship to the next level.

  He leaned down to speak in her ear. “Would you care for a glass of wine?”

  She smiled and nodded as she cast her gaze about the great room.

  “I’ll be a moment. Wait here,” he instructed and turned toward the bar.

  He ordered a beer for himself and a wine for Lillian. As he walked back to where he’d left her, George and Margaret Dawson waylaid him.

  “Cartwright!” the man cried, slapping him on the back jovially.

  “Dawson,” William nodded. “You are looking lovely this evening, Margaret.”

  The young lady blushed, tittered then smiled brightly and placed her hand on his arm. “Thank you, William.”

  He looked down at the drinks in his hands. “If you’ll excuse me, I was just on my way over to Miss Hamilton.” He gestured in the direction he’d left Lillian waiting.

  “Of course, but make sure you hurry back. Margaret is saving the first dance for you,” Dawson said with a wink and a shoulder nudge.

  William made his way toward Lillian and noted that two young men had joined her. “Fucking randy vultures,” he cursed under his breath as he strode to her side.

  “Here,” he said briskly, handing Lillian her glass of wine and eyeing her companions.

  “Thank you.” She gave him a slight smile and continued to listen to one of the young men recounting his horseracing exploits earlier that day.

  William didn’t miss the fact that the two men couldn’t keep their eyes on her face, but kept dropping their gazes to skim across her breasts.

  He grasped Lillian’s elbow and tugged her closer to his side. He knew it was a proprietary gesture but he couldn’t help himself. He wanted these two little pricks to back off and he was about to suggest that Lillian dance with him when George and Margaret Dawson descended on him once again.

  “Cartwright, I believe you promised the first dance to my lovely daughter.” George pushed Margaret in William’s direction.

  William cast his gaze down to Lillian to gauge her reaction and was met with an impassive stare.

  “Of course,” William replied stiffly and held his arm out to the young Miss Dawson. He was seething with frustration as he swept her onto the dance floor. He knew that his absence would give one of those little pricks the perfect opportunity to ask Lillian to join them and sure enough, a moment later, he saw her sweep by in the arms of Mr. Horseracer.

  William clenched his jaw and tried to focus on the dance and the young woman in his arms. He was nothing if not a gentleman. It wouldn’t be fair to let his frustration flow through to Margaret Dawson.

  “So you will come to lunch on Thursday,” she was saying decisively.

  He shook himself out of his reverie and looked down at her in surprise. Did I just unwittingly agree to something? Obviously he had, if her happy smile and continued chatter about the expected lunch were anything to go by.

  He smiled vaguely as she started to discuss the other ladies at the ball, what they were wearing and whether their dresses were suitably fashionable. He couldn’t for the life of him understand why she’d think for a minute that he’d find the topic of conversation interesting—that was until she mentioned Lillian and her intention became clear.

  “Miss Hamilton looks quite well this evening. Her dress is very pretty,” she commented mildly.

  It was immediately obvious that her talk of women’s fashion was a way for her to lead the conversation to Lillian. She was clearly fishing for information.

  “Yes,” he agreed. “She looks lovely.”

  A frown marred her pretty features.

  He gazed down at her as he turned her around the dance floor and noticed when her eyes alighted on something over his right shoulder. She bit her bottom lip and tore her gaze away from what was interesting her then looked up at him.

  “You are obviously not the only man who finds Miss Hamilton lovely,” she said slyly, her gaze returning to the same spot over his shoulder.

  He immediately swung them around to see what she was referring to and caught sight of Lillian and the young man across the dance floor. He was holding her far too closely for William’s liking. Infuriating him further, the man leaned down to speak in Lillian’s ear. Whatever he said had her tipping her head back and laughing gaily.

  William’s vision hazed over with red as he worked to steady his breathing and stop himself from racing across the floor to yank Lillian from the man’s arms. He envisioned his fist smacking into the guy’s jaw and he started to shake with the ferocity of his thoughts.

  Margaret’s voice cut through the fog, drawing him back to the present.

  “Miss Hamilton appears to be enjoying herself. That is nice. It would be good for her to meet some eligible men in the area.”

  William glared down at her. “She’s not here to meet eligible men.”

  She shrugged daintily and stepped a little closer to him. “Even so, it appears that she’s found some agreeable male company.”

  He prayed for the dance number to be over quickly so that he could take his leave of M
argaret gracefully and go in search of Lillian. Watching her dance with another man and seeing that man make her laugh so freely made him feel murderous. He knew it was unreasonable but he was powerless to stop the feeling. He kept an eye on them and when he saw the man wrap his arm tighter about her waist, he clenched his jaw so tightly that he feared he would break a tooth.

  The irony of the song that the band was playing was not lost on him and served only to deepen his black mood. Finally, the last strains of When I Lost You faded away and he was able to take his leave politely of Margaret.

  “Thank you for the dance.” He bowed curtly and kissed her hand before stepping off the floor to go in search of Lillian. He didn’t miss Margaret’s little huff of irritation but he had no time for indulging her temper. He was suddenly desperate to ensure that Lillian was safe and well and back by his side.

  * * * *

  Lillian watched the couples dancing and marveled at how different this country ball was from the balls she’d attended back in England. In England, people enjoyed learning popular new dance styles that had obviously not reached the Australian outback yet. Watching the couples on the dance floor now comforted her. There was something reassuring in seeing that the traditional dances were not lost.

  She was enjoying the company of Mr. Stratham. He was charming and made her laugh but he didn’t have the dizzying effect on her that William did. He didn’t make her breath hitch nor did her stomach bottom out whenever she looked at him. But he was very pleasing to talk to and served to help her forget that William had spent so little time by her side and more time in the company of Margaret Dawson. To add to her distress, she couldn’t help thinking that William and Miss Dawson made a handsome couple, and she’d make a very good match for him. The young woman obviously had feelings for William and George Dawson seemed to like and respect him.

  She was sipping on a glass of punch and listening with half an ear to the gentleman by her side when she spotted William striding toward her. He didn’t look happy and she couldn’t understand what he’d have to be annoyed about. She suspected it was because she was in the company of a strange gentleman but William was hardly in a position to cast aspersions.

  She sighed and readied herself for a repeat of the behavior that he had displayed at the picnic earlier that day.

  He drew level with her. “Where have you been?” he demanded.

  “I’ve been dancing, like you, and Mr. Stratham here has been keeping me company,” she responded mildly.

  A loud clearing of a throat drew her attention back to Mr. Stratham, who had drawn himself taller and squared his shoulders. If she weren’t so worried about how his actions would be perceived by William, she’d have smiled at his bid to appear more foreboding.

  William’s glare swung from her face to settle menacingly on Mr. Stratham. “Can I help you?” he snarled at the man who quailed slightly under his intense gaze.

  “Not at all. I was merely keeping Miss Hamilton company after she did the honor of dancing with me,” Mr. Stratham explained coolly. “And you are?”

  “Responsible for her,” William snapped.

  Lillian gaped and struggled to swallow a sip of punch. What is he thinking? Of course, he’d been spouting about her belonging to him and she knew that he disagreed with her associating with strange gentlemen, but this took the cake! As far as she was concerned, William’s responsibility toward her started and ended with her position as his children’s governess. He’d never given her any indication to think otherwise and William throwing his weight around at social functions was exasperating and tedious.

  She was just about to rebut his absurd declaration, when, like a vulture sensing an easy meal, Mary Simpson swooped in.

  “William,” she purred. “You must dance with me.”

  Lillian looked the woman over and noted that her cheeks had been re-rouged and her lips were coated in an alarming shade of bright red lipstick. The woman really was a brazen hussy. As if to prove her assessment, the woman boldly brushed her substantial breasts against William’s arm and cast a sly look in Lillian’s direction.

  Yes, Mary Simpson knew exactly what she was doing and had chosen her moment to interrupt them perfectly.

  Lillian cast her gaze toward William and didn’t miss the slight grimace of distaste that crossed his features at Mary’s blatant attention, but Lillian had had enough. She’d endured too much from William’s want-to-be paramours and she was determined not to let anything else interfere with her sensibilities that evening. She was feeling decidedly delicate and she wanted nothing more than to be away from William and his lady friends.

  “Yes, go and dance, William,” Lillian encouraged sweetly, holding her arm out to Mr. Stratham. “I’m sure Mr. Stratham won’t mind joining me for a stroll. It’s quite warm in here and I’m in need of some air.”

  “I’d be delighted,” the young man responded, politely taking her elbow and steering her toward the balcony doors.

  She knew William would be furious with her, but she was in no mood to indulge his petty issues.

  She’d made it halfway across the room when she felt an iron-like grip on her wrist before she was yanked from her position beside Mr. Stratham, spun around and pulled into a solid chest. She looked up into the cold, hard eyes of William as he towered over her—a seething mass of angry male.

  He lowered his head to hers. “You will not be taking a stroll with anyone but me,” he said coolly, wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her forcefully onto the dance floor.

  Lillian had no opportunity to register a complaint as she was swept into William’s arms and whirled into a fast-paced waltz. She didn’t miss the surprised looks on the faces of the people close by at William’s dominant, somewhat aggressive, manner.

  He tightened his hold and turned her expertly on the dance floor. When Lillian looked up into his face, she could still see the anger glinting in his hazel eyes.

  “What did you say to your Mary Simpson? She can’t have been too happy at being so unceremoniously disregarded,” Lillian commented mildly.

  William scowled down at her. “For the last time, she’s not mine and I didn’t say anything. I was in too much of a hurry stopping you from taking another stroll with a strange man.”

  Lillian laughed. “I’m sure that my virtue is no longer an issue, William. You took care of that.”

  “Don’t say things like that,” he snapped. “Do you know how happy and relieved I am that no man has had you before me?” His voice softened and he lowered his head to hers. “To me, you are everything that is virtuous and good. And you’re all mine—in every way.”

  Lillian flushed and her heart rate stuttered at his possessive words. When he said things like that, she could almost believe that he wanted more from their relationship, but she also worried that too much had changed in ten years. A deep anger for her father burned within her and if she took hold of it too tightly, she knew she’d be in danger of becoming bitter and twisted. No, she needed to move on and try to rectify the wrongs perpetrated by her father all those years ago.

  She relaxed and let William lead her around the floor. It felt good to be in his arms. He was an excellent dancer—smooth and confident—and he’d make anyone he danced with look proficient and graceful.

  She was feeling marginally better when the final strains of the music died away and William led her from the dance floor.

  Chapter Twenty

  Lillian awoke slowly. She was being jostled from side to side, her cheek resting against a hard chest. William’s spicy aftershave enveloped her and she breathed deeply, inhaling his familiar scent.

  She wasn’t sure what was going on. She recalled arriving home, where she had stumbled wearily to her room, washed quickly, changed into her nightgown and collapsed into bed.

  “William?” she muttered sleepily, lifting her head to look around.

  “Hush, sweetheart.” He cupped her head and pushed gently so her cheek rested back against his chest. “I’m takin
g you to my room. I can’t be without you for one more night.”

  At his words, her insides clenched in anticipation and her weariness fled. She should oppose him and, in fact, she’d done just that when they’d arrived home. Lillian had deliberately wished William a curt goodnight before she’d retired to her room. She’d still been angry with him over the events that had transpired at the ball. But it now appeared that he’d decided to take matters into his own hands and she knew that she wouldn’t stop him—his power over her body was too great for her to resist.

  William strode through his open bedroom door, kicking it closed then locking it behind him. She marveled at the ease with which he managed it while still keeping her clutched in his arms. He walked to the bed and deposited her gently on the covers.

  “I know you’re upset with me, Lilly, and I hate that.” William sat next to her. He caressed her cheek and gazed down into her face, the soft light from the bedside lantern casting his features in shadows. “I can’t sleep knowing that I’ve distressed you. I need to make things right between us. I know that I’m being selfish, but I can’t help it. I’m going crazy with my need to be inside you again.”

  Lillian shuddered and her mouth went dry. She couldn’t believe how much she wanted and needed that herself. At the mere thought of it, her sex grew wet and swollen and she locked her legs together, squirming, trying to relieve the sensation.

  Then something else he’d said to her earlier sprang into her mind. “You said that we couldn’t do that again.”

  He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Yes, I did say that, but I also just admitted that I’m selfish where you’re concerned.”