Timeless Passion: 10 Historical Romances To Savor (260 page)

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Authors: Rue Allyn

Tags: #Historical, #Romance

BOOK: Timeless Passion: 10 Historical Romances To Savor
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“Welcome to Riverside,” he said with a sweeping gesture of his arm. Before he could help, she slipped to the ground and stood with her hand on the stallion’s neck, taking in her surroundings.

The breeze from the river blew wisps of her red-gold hair around her face as she gazed at the deep verandas that encircled the two-story sandstone building. Her eyes closed as she drew in a deep breath. The air was filled with the powerful scents of eucalyptus and jasmine.

Her eyes wide with amazement, she turned from the house to finally look at him. “It’s like nothing I have ever seen. It’s wonderful,” she said. He felt a swell of pride at her words.

“It’s quite a radical design. Different from most homes I would think. It has been built to catch the river breezes in the summer,” he said, as he watched her face. “You’ll find the summers very warm compared to England.”

She nodded, her face once again closed to him.

“I’m sorry the staff are not here to meet you but I still have to inform them of my new marital status,” he continued.

“Really? A spur of the moment decision then?” she asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Something like that,” he mumbled.

Well, she certainly was not backward in saying what she thought. In an effort to return to more neutral ground, William continued with his tour of the home. He led her up the stairs and through the double-carved timber doors. To her left a sitting room was separated from the entrance by ornately carved Chinese screens. It was spacious, with doors that opened onto the verandas and views to the river.

William gestured to a sweeping staircase that led to the upper floor. He followed her up, his gaze assessing her as they climbed. The slight sway of her body, even in the drab prison smock, stirred his loins again. He wondered how long it would be before she came to his bed. When they reached the landing, he moved past her and opened a door off the hallway.

“This will be your bedroom.” He showed her into a sunny room that faced the river. At her puzzled look, he grinned and added, “I won’t force you into my bed tonight.”

She tilted her head. “So, when will you force me?”

God almighty, she would not let him get away with anything. “Ah, actually I hoped my charms would entice you of your own accord.”

She smiled but there was no warmth in the gesture.

“Let’s be clear. This is a marriage of convenience for both of us. I have made a decision based on survival and I do not, and never will, love you,” she said coldly.

At her words, he felt a muscle twitch in his cheek but managed to keep his face blank.

“Well, madam,” he responded, “as love also had no part in my decision, we understand each other perfectly. You will be housed and fed and treated well, and when the need arises I will take you to my bed. I expect you to manage the home and provide me with an heir. I get what I want out of it, and you get what you want.” Her face had blanched but he was too affronted to stop. “When you have washed and changed for dinner, come down and I will show you the rest of the house.”

She looked as if she would speak.

“Is there something else?” he asked.

The defiant spark in her eyes had dulled with his words and there was vulnerability in the set of her mouth and shoulders. “The changing … it’s just that I have nothing suitable to change into.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think. We can rectify that tomorrow. What you have on is fine.”

He left the room wondering what on earth he had done. Nothing was as he planned. At every turn, she surprised and confused him. He realized he knew nothing about the woman he had married. But what had he expected from her? Gratitude? Submission? Yes, he had stupidly expected all that. But not this baffling mix of fiery defiance and childlike vulnerability. All he knew was from the first moment he saw her, he had invented a hundred practical reasons why he should marry her.

And now he did not know what to do with her.

• • •

Electra turned slowly, taking in the room. Compared to her accommodations of the past eighteen months, this was luxurious beyond belief. In the centre of the room was a large bed covered in soft, colourful quilts. Yellow and purple wildflowers overflowed from a vase under the window. She pushed open the white shutters and looked out on a garden, wild with rosebushes and hydrangeas, and overshadowed by eucalyptus trees. The eucalypts seemed a little different from those near the factory; she must ask about them. Beyond the gardens, the river meandered lazily as far as the eye could see.

And William Radcliffe was her husband. What madness was this? It seemed that only yesterday she was betrothed to Edward. Although, she had to admit, in the two years she knew Edward she did not experience a fraction of the spark that ignited each time William Radcliffe touched her. When his strong arms encircled her as they rode home, she was sure her heartbeat doubled. There had been a moment of anxiety at the unmistakable arousal of his body pressed against her. But that was quickly overtaken by strange tingles of excitement, as if every nerve had been jolted awake. With a shake of her head, she pushed the thoughts away. Now she was being ridiculous, the hardships of prison had affected her mind and blown his presence out of proportion. Besides, as handsome as he might be, his background was a complete mystery to her. Many of the free settlers came to outlying colonies to escape scandal at home. She sat heavily on the small footstool. Who was she to point a finger at someone escaping scandal?

She trailed her fingers across the dresser and frowned at her reflection in the oval wall mirror. Had she really married this man because he dropped a scarf in front of her? No, she had married him because he was her ticket out of prison. And she hoped he would help her to prove her innocence. No other reason.

Why then did she wish her words had been kinder? And more confusing, why had she flinched at his heartless response?

Electra, lost in her thoughts, jumped from the stool at a sharp rap on her door. She crossed the room and opened the door to William holding out a dress.

“I have borrowed this from my overseer’s wife. I am not sure of the fit, but it’s clean and it’s a change,” he said offering her the dress.

Her initial reaction was to refuse the dress but she could see in his eyes a genuine intention to assist.

She attempted a smile. “Yes, it will be a change. Thank you, Mr. Radcliffe.” She took the dress from him and turned to close the door. Their eyes met as his boot blocked the doorway and stopped her.

“My name is William and I would prefer my wife to address me by my first name.”

She stilled at his annoyed tone. “Very well. Thank you, William.” He waited, but she stubbornly refused to accord him the same privilege. William raised one eyebrow at the slight, turned on his heel, and left.

His overseer’s wife was obviously larger than Electra. The sleeves were too long and the waist too low. She rolled up the sleeves, shrugged at the rest and prepared to go downstairs.

She stood at the bottom of the stairs, unsure as to which room to enter when William walked up behind her in mid-conversation with a large bear of a man.

“Ah, Elec — er, Mrs. Radcliffe, I’d like you to meet my overseer, Callum MacDonald. Callum, this is my wife.”

“Wonderful to meet ye, Mrs. Radcliffe. And what a bonnie wee lassie ye are,” boomed the Scotsman. He grasped her hand in his and beamed effusively. She laughed, instantly at ease with the man, and retrieved her hand before he crushed it.

William nodded, obviously pleased with the overseer’s approval. His eyes travelled over the dress, noted the ill fit, but made no comment. Callum, however had no such compunction.

“Is this how ye intend to dress your wife, Will? Poor wee thing looks lost in there. Ye didna’ borrow it from my Shelagh, aye?” William’s startled look and the accompanying flush that stole up his neck, indicated he had indeed borrowed it from Callum’s wife.

“I’m sure it was the best he could do and I’m grateful for it. In fact, it’s the best I’ve had for near on fifteen months,” Electra conceded. William’s had been a kind gesture, especially after what she had said to him. It seemed important to defend him.

Callum looked from one to the other and raised a bushy eyebrow. William changed the subject. He offered to show her through the rest of the house and introduce her to the house servants. Later, if she was up to it, they could take a wander through the immediate grounds.

“I’ll leave ye to it then, aye? Perhaps when ye’re settled I can show ye what we do around here,” suggested Callum.

“I would like that, Callum. I must admit all I know about William’s property is that he keeps sheep. Actually, I’m very adept at spinning and carding wool if the need arises,” she said with a grin.

“Ah, a lass with a sense o’ humour. Until the morrow.” He laughed, donned his hat, and strode out the door.

“The first person I must introduce you to is Shi Liang. He basically runs the house, does the cooking, keeps an eye on the other house servants, and most of the time, mistakes himself for my mother,” said William.

She laughed at his attempt to lighten the mood. This was someone important to the household, she thought. But what a strange name.

He led her out the back door toward a separate wooden slab-built structure that was the kitchen. Despite the heat of the day, a fire roared off to one side and delicious cooking smells emanated from a number of pots that bubbled over the fire. A slim, Chinese man of small stature and indeterminate age hurried toward them. He wore a loose, long-sleeved jacket and black baggy trousers, and his hair hung in a long greased queue down his back. His hands were clasped in front of him.

“Ah velly pletty wife, sir. You not send me away now?” His brow furrowed and his slanted eyes pleaded with William.

Electra had not encountered an Oriental before and stepped back involuntarily. William’s eyes narrowed at her reaction. She regained her composure and stepped forward once more, determined to show no weakness or fear to her new husband.

“Of course he won’t. I will need you to teach me everything about the household. I am happy to meet you, Shi Liang.” She smiled and held out her hand. Shi Liang bowed low over her hand, glowing with pleasure at her response.

William exhaled slowly and a look of grudging admiration passed over his face. It seemed she had passed that challenge. What would the next be?

“Please missee anything you want, I get. Forget other lazy girl, she good for nothing.” He looked sideways at William, “Solly Master William, but is true. She needing much disciprine.” He bowed again to Electra and turned, still mumbling, to stir his pots.

They left the kitchen and walked back into the house.

“When do I get to meet the lazy girl who needs much disciprine?” grinned Electra.

He smiled at her imitation of Shi Liang. “Very shortly. I believe she is in the library dusting. But first, I want to thank you for how you handled Shi Liang. I could see you weren’t completely comfortable with a
dreaded Oriental
. You were very gracious.”

She dismissed his compliment with a wave of her hand. “Most women, regardless of their background, avoid the Chinese like the plague. But I have had a number of domestic servants since my arrival in New South Wales and Shi Liang outstrips them all. He is indispensable to the household and a good loyal worker.”

“It sounds like you would have had to get rid of me, if I had not accepted him?” she challenged.

“Luckily it didn’t come to that,” he answered. She halted, her mouth agape at his statement.

“I’m joking, Elec … Mrs. Radcliffe,” William said, laughter in his voice.

Electra cast him a wary look as they climbed the last of the stairs and proceeded to the library door.

“Oh for goodness sake, just call me Electra and be done with it,” she said, as she swept into the library.

“Bloody hell, it’s the duchess,” said a startled Mary Buckley, as she jumped from the window seat. “Don’ tell me we’s gonna be workin’ togevver.”

Electra’s step faltered. “Well, not exactly, Mary er … ”

“Mary, this is my wife, Mrs. Radcliffe,” interrupted William.

“Gawd, yer’ll be givin’ me orders an’ all? It’s not bad enough I gots to take orders from that Chinee devil … ”

Before Mary could continue, William had stormed across the room and spun her to face him, his voice low but clear. “I will say this only once, Mary. Mrs. Radcliffe is now mistress of this house and as far as you are concerned, her word is law. As for Shi Liang, after Mrs. Radcliffe and myself, he is the next person you will answer to and respect. If you are not prepared to do so then I’m quite happy to return you to the factory.”

“No sir, don’ send me back there. I’ll do like yer says,” she said, scowling at Electra over her shoulder as she left.

Good heavens, so this was where Mary was sent. And her hostility toward Electra had not changed one jot. She began to foresee that marriage might bring as many problems as she hoped it would solve. As a convict marrying a man of William’s standing, there would be innumerable obstacles from all levels of society in the colony. For the first time since she retrieved William Radcliffe’s scarf, she wondered just how high a price she would pay for her new station.

William’s voice brought her attention back from her musings as he indicated numbers of books lining the shelves around the room. He ran his hands across the spines of plays by William Shakespeare and numerous works by Fielding, Pope, and Defoe. There were volumes on animal husbandry, especially sheep, the law, and other books with which she was unfamiliar. She stole a furtive look at William. These were the writings of great and learned men, not something she expected to find in the library of an ordinary settler, albeit a rich one. The books seemed out of place in this hard, remote outpost.

“Do you like to read?” he asked.

“Very much. In fact I think it’s one of the things I have missed most.” She halted her words, and moved to leave. It was easier to keep the past safely locked away. Easier to pretend she had never been anything other than what she now was.

He waited for her to continue but she had reached the door, indicating she was ready to continue the tour.

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