Daring Masquerade (19 page)

It's not very far, she told herself. You can do it.

Calling on a reserve of strength from God alone knew where, she forced herself to walk out of the room with her head held high. Only the desire not to let Clyde or Virginia see her cowed kept her from falling into a screaming heap on the floor.

Ross stood bidding farewell to Andrew, Sarah comforted Virginia who conveniently burst into tears, and Harry battled on alone. Her shoulder ached from where Clyde's fingers gouged into the flesh, but her heart had taken a battering. Her body felt as if it had been mauled by a rabid dog.

She waited silently, absolutely humiliated as Ross made excuses for her.

"She hasn't been well over the last couple of days, you know how it is with women?"

"Yes, I do," Andrew replied with a smirk.

A car was put at their disposal, and Ross grabbed her elbow in a vice-like grip and dragged her into it. He gave the driver the name of the hotel before they drove off. He did not touch her. Anger bounced off him. The pain of betrayal cloaked her in misery. Relentless, it bore down with vicious intensity making her slump against the seat. Not one word passed between them as they drove to the hotel and traipsed upstairs.

He attacked her the moment they stepped into their room. "How dare you humiliate me in front of my friends with such disgraceful behavior."

"My behavior?" she screamed, tears pouring down her cheeks. "That foul creature tries to rape me, and all you're worried about is losing face in front of your snobby friends."

"For God's sake, have you lost your mind?"

"I want to have a bath," she cried wildly, losing control. "I have to wash the touch of that vile creature off my skin." She struggled out of her clothes.

"What are you saying?" His face blanched.

"He followed me along the beach and grabbed me, squeezed my breasts and forced his mouth on mine. It felt wet and slimy like a snake."

The vomit rose up in her throat and she dashed to the bathroom. Leaning over the hand basin, she heaved her heart out.

"Are you saying Clyde actually assaulted you?" As he handed her a towel, his hand trembled. "My God, I didn't realize."

She straightened up and stared into his shocked face. "He grabbed at my breast and backside, he kissed me. If you want to call that assault, then he assaulted me. I tried to tell you," she went on bitterly. "You only had to look at me to know I didn't lie."

She leaned over the bath and turned the water on. "You only had eyes for Virginia. You didn't give a damn what happened to me. That dirty little bastard could have raped me," she screamed out the obscenities, "but you didn't give a shit."

"I swear, I didn't…"

"Didn't what? Think because he was rich he wouldn't do such a thing? Think because he married the beautiful Virginia he wouldn't need to dally with another woman?" She hammered the words out as tears coursed down her cheeks. "Or didn't you think it mattered what happened to Harry, because she wasn't highborn enough to worry about?"

"That isn't true." A pulse convulsed in his jaw.

"You mightn't have cared what happened to me." She ignored his shocked intake of breath. "I would have died before I let such a pig violate me. Do you think I'd let him desecrate the place where your baby will come from?"

She turned away, ripped her dress off, flung it on the floor and climbed into the bath. There she sat with tears pouring down her cheeks, as an ashen-faced Ross backed out of the room.

She heard him talking on the telephone, but didn't care. His betrayal cut deep. Surely it wasn't unreasonable to expect a husband to speak up in defense of his wife?

She poured bath oil out and sloshed it around to make frothy bubbles. The warm water brought life back into her frozen limbs. The water stung her sore shoulder, and when she surveyed it, she realized Clyde's ring had scoured her skin, leaving a livid red mark. Even more shocking, on glancing in the mirror, she noticed a bite mark on her neck near her collarbone.

Ross tapped on the door and poked his head around. "I ordered some tea to be brought up for us."

"Thank you."

She stared at him through tear-drenched eyes and raised herself from the water. Automatically he handed over a towel. He felt like a mighty fist had slammed into his stomach. It hit him with such force he rocked back on his heels. Bile rose up in his throat, sour and sickening. An angry red graze stood out on her shoulder, and ugly bite marks flawed the white skin of her neck.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say."

"Don't say anything, like you did at the party. I'm just working class Harry, remember?" She wrapped herself in the towel. "I don't count for anything much." Her tone was bitter.

"It's not true, you do matter to me."

"You've got a funny way of showing it. I could have been raped and murdered out there. You were so busy making cow eyes at Virginia you didn't even notice me leave. Not one person in the whole room missed me. That's how much I mattered."

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry. That filthy little bastard. If I ever get my hands on him I'll rip him apart," he vowed fiercely. "Poor Virginia, married to such a foul creature."

Harry dropped the towel and dashed out into the bedroom sobbing in anguish.

"What is it?" He hurried after her.

"I hate you. I wish I'd never set eyes on you."

Her tirade stopped him dead.

"Poor Virginia! What about poor Harry? Virginia chose to prostitute herself to that horrible pig for a share of his millions."

"What a shocking thing to say."

"If she has to earn her money by letting him paw her. Bad luck. I had no say. He followed me outside and attacked me. If I hadn't kneed him in the groin and escaped, I could be dead. Flung into the ocean, never to be found again." Hysteria raised her voice as she screamed. "And no one would have cared."

"Please. You're upset. You have every right to be. Forgive me, I know I acted badly and let you down when you needed me most." He thrust his fingers through his hair. "I swear to God, I had no inkling what he'd done."

"You wouldn't listen to me," she railed. "You were prepared to believe Bromley's lies. You even let your friends think I was a madwoman."

"I didn't think you were lying, just exaggerating the truth to get attention."

A knock on the door interrupted them. When he returned with a tray set up with tea and sandwiches she was already in bed, the covers pulled up to her chin.

"Sit up. I'll pour you out a cup of tea."

"I don't want any."

"Yes you do."

He deposited the tray on the dressing table and padded over to the bed. As he leaned over to pick up his pillow to put behind her back, his arm accidentally brushed against her breast and she shrank from his touch. Her reaction shattered him.

"Don't shrink from me, please. I know I hurt you, I deserve your contempt."

"I don't feel contempt for you. I love you," she said sadly. "I didn't expect you to return my love, but I thought you would at least have respected me."

"You do have my respect. I'm very fond of you. You're sweet, generous, brave, and I don't deserve you. I've been a bloody fool. Give me another chance, please."

He stared at her, willing her to believe him. "I'll be off to France soon. Andrew said a convoy is leaving within the next couple of weeks. Who knows when we'll be together again?"

"Oh, Ross, we don't have much time, do we?"

"Afraid not."

He plumped up the pillows behind her back before handing her the tea, then he sat on edge of the bed to drink his own.

"I'll never forgive myself for what happened to you tonight."

She shuddered. "Don't talk about it anymore."

After drinking half of the tea she whispered. "I'm so tired."

He stood up. "I wouldn't blame you if you wanted me to sleep in the chair. Wouldn't blame you if you kicked me out of the room."

"No, come to bed." She pulled the blankets aside.

He stripped off his clothes and dropped them on the floor, flicked off the light and slid in beside her. He did not reach for her as he normally did, but lay there stiff as a poker.

"Hold me, Ross."

He hesitated, rolled closer and took her in his arms. She rested her cheek against his naked chest, and he threaded his fingers through her tangled curls. He held her close, but made no move to do anything else.

"Go to sleep," he murmured. "You've been through hell today."

Most of it was my fault, he thought bitterly. He had focused his attention on Virginia. While he dallied with her poor little Harry fought for her life on a dark, lonely stretch of beach. A shudder racked his body just thinking about what could have happened. Clyde was a depraved animal. They had only met on a couple of occasions and he instantly disliked the man. He was rich, powerful and dangerous. Virginia mentioned that he could even be in line for a knighthood.

Harry kneed Clyde in the groin.
If I could get my hands on him, I'd bloody well castrate him. Oh, Harry, what have I done to you?

Warm and soft, her skin smelt of roses. Why couldn't he love her? What flaw in his nature made him still long for Virginia who had betrayed him? Taken his love and spurned him when he needed her most. One part of him hated her, but the other part still craved her beauty. Her marriage to Clyde was a farce and she virtually offered herself to him at the party.

He resisted, God alone knew how, but he did. Much as he wanted Virginia, he couldn't break his marriage vows and betray Harry. She was his wife and would hopefully be the mother of his child. He betrayed her emotionally by still lusting after Virginia, but he couldn't physically betray her as well. She would never be able to recover from such treachery. No woman could.

It would almost be a relief to return to the trenches and remove the temptation of Virginia's beauty. What kind of man lay in his honeymoon bed cradling his wife, but lusting for another woman?

You're a bloody disgrace, he thought wretchedly, hating himself afresh.

"Have you ever been to a circus?" he asked.

"No. Why?"

"I strolled back from Victoria barracks in St Kilda Road. As I crossed over the railway bridge I noticed a circus with elephants and camels. I heard lions roaring, too. We could go tomorrow afternoon, if you like."

"Yes, I'd like to go. Have you been to the circus before?"

"Years ago when I was at school, a couple of us nicked out of the boarding house and went, too scared of getting caught to enjoy it properly. Jack took me once. I'll try and get us tickets for a show at the Princess Theater in the evening as well, I think they're doing Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens."

"Oliver is the orphan who asked for more food, isn't he?"

"Yes, it's not a bad yarn. I studied Dickens at school." He rubbed the flat of his thumb across her cheeks. "Go to sleep, sweet girl, we've got a big day ahead of us tomorrow."

Chapter Ten

Next morning they set off to explore Melbourne. The Princess Theater, a majestic building with ornate moldings festooned with trumpeting angels, was in Spring Street only a few doors away from the Grand Hotel. Harry craned her neck to stare at the three rooftop domes with their lacy iron coronets.

"It was built in 1887 on the site of the old Royal Princess Theater," he explained.

"How do you know?" She slipped her arm through his.

"Oh, I read it somewhere."

They wandered down Bourke Street, passing Buckley and Nunn, a large modern department store.

"Like to have a browse around in there?" he asked.

"No, I've done all my shopping."

"Did you notice the electric street lighting?" He pointed to the overhead wires.

"No, too busy gawking at the shops."

He laughed and drew her towards the Coles Book Arcade. Before they entered they were greeted at the door by two mechanical figures holding advertising boards and she laughed out loud.

"Ooh, this is exciting."

She jigged around and he smiled indulgently at her. She was sweet, easily pleased. They browsed through the hundreds of books on the shelves, and he bought her a leather bound copy of Oliver Twist.

"So you'll be able to compare notes after we've seen the show tonight," he explained with a grin. "Would you like to go to the Botanical Gardens now?"

"Yes please. That's where the separation tree is. Fifteenth November, 1850," she recited like a parrot. "Victoria separated from New South Wales."

He laughed. "We'll get a taxi. On the way I'll show you where I went to school. Did you know Melbourne Grammar was established in 1854?"

"No, I only know it's where all the rich men send their sons."

They settled into the taxi cab and were soon chugging along. He pointed out a few places of interest including St Paul's Cathedral on the corner of Flinders and Swanston Streets, and Young and Jackson's Hotel directly opposite.

She craned her neck out of the window so as not to miss anything. Her eyes shone with excitement, her bright curls bobbed up and down as she swiveled her head. Her soft sweet lips continually smiled. Every now and again she gave an excited little giggle, and he suddenly felt close to her. A sense of protection for this lovely young woman started to breach the walls he'd erected around his heart.

As they crossed over the bridge he glimpsed the circus big top behind some trees. They wandered along the neatly kept meandering pathways of the Botanical Gardens.

"Like a cup of tea?" he asked. "There's a little tearoom somewhere around here, near the Temple of Winds, I think."

"Yes I could to with a drink, and I'm starving. Breakfast was ages ago."

Near a small rotunda supported by ten columns decorated with Australian fern motifs, he spied a small tearoom with tables and chairs set out between colorful flower gardens and palm trees.

"This is nice." She clapped her hands with delight.

"You choose a table while I get us something to eat." He whistled as he walked away.

The gardens were quite crowded with young couples and family groups all enjoying the tranquility. The pastel shades of the ladies' dresses stood out starkly against the green lawns and shrubbery, while a number of young men wore uniform.