Daring Masquerade (21 page)

"He sure as hell isn't coming through my property."

"The government needs timber for the war effort. Think of the jobs it will create."

"He won't be going through my land."

"Sh, don't get angry." She touched her fingers to his lips. "Sarah tells me you'll be leaving for overseas soon."

"Probably. The Medical Board has passed me fit."

"I'll be so worried about you."

"Like last time?" he said, not even trying to hide the bitterness in his voice.

"I acted like a fool. I still love you. Why shouldn't we have some happiness together before you go?"

"We're both married."

"Do you still want me?"

He hesitated.

"Do you, Ross?"

"Yes," he whispered huskily.

Virginia smiled. "I know you do, my darling. I've always been able to read you like a book." She ran her tongue seductively across her upper lip. "Let's go upstairs."

"I can't." He groaned. "What about Harry?"

"She won't know."

"It wouldn't be right. I'd know, and I couldn't live with myself if I betrayed her."

"You're always so moral."

"Please, I only agreed to dinner."

You shouldn't even have done that. He hated the fact he still wanted Virginia. Even having dinner with her was wrong and Harry would be upset if she found out about it. Any woman would be.

The roast pheasant, normally one of his favorite dishes, was tainted with guilt. Even the expensive imported wine left a bitter taste on his palate.

He refused dessert, but Virginia ordered Peach Melba, and he watched as she languidly spooned it into her mouth. When some juice dripped on to her lip, and she put her tongue out to catch it, he stifled a groan.

After coffee, he refused her offer of a stroll outside.

"I have to be getting back. If Harry wakes up, she'll be wondering where I am."

"Oh, my darling. When will I see you again?" she asked tremulously.

"I don't know. We're returning home tomorrow then I'll be off to France. I'll send you a post card from Paris."

"Send it care of Sarah, she always knows where to find me."

"Goodbye, Virginia."

"Goodbye." She kissed him on the lips. "Good luck."

* * *

Harry and Ross caught a midday train home. The seats in the first class carriage were upholstered in black leather, the walls decorated with cedar paneling, beveled mirrors and pictures of Victorian tourist attractions. She wanted to hang her head out the window as they steamed away from Melbourne, but couldn't risk getting a cinder in her eye.

"I haven't seen you in uniform yet. I'm sure you'll be handsome." Her gaze went to his army kit bag.

"They re-issued me with everything. I virtually had only the clothes I wore when I left Gallipoli, and they were filthy and ripped."

Jack waited on the station for them. He clapped Ross on the back. "Good to have you home, boy."

"Thanks, good to be back."

"How's young Harry?" Jack asked, thinking how pretty and ladylike she looked in a white two piece suit with a straw hat perched on her wild curls.

"I'm good." She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek in an impromptu, touching gesture of affection.

She does look well, there's something special about her, an inner glow I hadn't noticed before.

"Good honeymoon, my dear?"

"Yes. Ross took me to so many places. The Botanical Gardens and the shops in Collins Street. I've bought some lovely clothes. We had the best time, didn't we?" She chatted happily, apparently oblivious to the fact Ross barely spoke at all.

What the hell was wrong with him? Jack watched him out of the corner of one eye. He certainly did not have the look of a man coming back from his honeymoon.

"I bought you a present, Jack, and one for Mrs. Bates too."

"You shouldn't have worried about a couple of old fogies like us." He spoilt his nonchalant act by adding. "What did you get me?"

"It's a surprise." She laughed. "We went to the circus, too."

"I can't abide circuses."

"Ross told me what happened when you took him, about the neglected horses."

"A bloody disgrace."

"It must have been terrible, but this circus was all right, wasn't it, Ross?"

"Yes," he answered absently.

"Heard talk they might be re-opening the mill. Some bloody millionaire called Clyde Bromley's behind it. Received special permission from the government to log crown land," Jack growled.

"Wonder how much it cost him?" Ross sneered.

"They can't access it without crossing your land," Jack went on.

"They'll get permission over my dead body," Ross vowed. "The place will be ruined. They'll clog up the creeks, ruin my grazing land with their timber tracks and the noise will be unbearable. I'm relying on you, Jack, when I'm away. It doesn't matter how much money they offer you, tell them to go to hell."

"I will, but if the government legislates."

"This is my land, they're not getting access."

As they drove into the front yard, Mrs. Bates waited on the verandah. Ross lifted Harry down and turned to greet the old woman who slowly walked towards them.

"How's my best girl?" He engulfed her in a bear hug.

"I'm well, the kettle's on ready for you. Hello, Miss Harry, did you have a good time in Melbourne?"

"Yes, lovely thank you, but I'm glad to be home."

Jack helped Ross bring their luggage up on to the verandah as Mrs. Bates disappeared inside. Harry hovered near the doorway waiting for Ross to carry her across the threshold, but he just pushed the door open and held it back for her.

"Come on, I want to get out of these city clothes."

"You're supposed to carry your bride across the threshold," Jack said.

"What!"

"It doesn't matter." Harry pushed past him and entered the hallway, trying to blink back hurt tears. She couldn't understand herself. She normally wasn't a weepy, sort of a person.

"You bloody fool," she heard Jack say.

"I forgot. It's not important."

Harry stumbled into the kitchen to give Mrs. Bates a hand. Her head throbbed and the queasy feeling returned to her stomach.

They set up the food trolley with cups and saucers. She poured the tea while Mrs. Bates' arthritic hands fumbled with the lid of the shortbread tin. Without a word, Harry removed the lid and handed the tin back.

"Don't tell the men, will you? My hands aren't always this bad."

"I know, good and bad days, eh?" she soothed.

The house had recently been dusted, Harry saw at a glance, but the windows needed cleaning, as did the stove. A huge bowl of roses stood on the hallstand, but the kitchen floor needed a good scrub.

"Things take me a bit longer to do now," the old woman apologized.

"It will be easier now I'm here. We can share the work."

"Jack suggested we try getting a maid."

"What do we need a maid for?" Harry asked. "Once Ross goes to the army there'll only be me here. You wouldn't want to share your domain with some other woman. The two of us can easily keep this place going between us."

"Of course we can, Miss Harry." Mrs. Bates beamed.

"There's one thing, though." Harry came to a sudden stop outside the sitting room door. "You'll have to move back inside the homestead."

"I couldn't. It wouldn't be right."

"Please, Mrs. Bates, as a special favor to me. I'll be frightened here on my own," she lied.

"All right, there are two rooms at the back I can use."

"Good, it's all settled."

As Harry pushed the door open Jack exploded. "For God's sake. Are you mad?"

"Nothing happened."

Their entry cut off the conversation.

"Ah, have you got my shortbread, Mrs. Bates?"

"Of course, Mr. Ross, you know I always keep some on hand for you."

Harry poured the tea, ushered the old woman to the most comfortable chair, and handed out the cups.

"Ross, after you leave, Mrs. Bates has decided to move in here with me."

"Oh?"

"I know it's ridiculous, my being scared of staying in the homestead on my own, but I can't help it."

"It's a good idea. We don't want you being scared, young Harry." Jack's eyes twinkled.

"It's decent of you to agree to move in, Mrs. Bates." Ross gave Harry a wink. "I've been worried about Harry staying on her own. Maybe I should employ a maid."

"No, we've already discussed the situation." Harry went over and sat on the couch next to him. "We're going to share the workload. We don't want another woman here."

"Well, if that's what you want, but if it gets too much for you, bury your stubborn pride and get someone in to help."

"All right, I will."

He drained his cup and stood up. "I'll get changed into my work clothes, then Jack and I will head off for a while."

"Could I come?"

"No, you unpack and discuss the housekeeping arrangements with Mrs. Bates."

He dismissed her so carelessly she fumed.

When he left the room she excused herself and followed him upstairs to the main bedroom. An enormous double bed with an ornate carved bed head matched the dresser. The mirror frame was oval shaped, with beveled edges and scrolled carving. The deep blue curtains matched the quilt and bolsters, everything being of solid good quality.

"What's wrong with you?" she burst out. "You've practically ignored me since yesterday afternoon."

"I've got a lot on my mind. I didn't mean to ignore you."

"Please." She walked up to him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. We'll talk later. I've got things to do with Jack."

"I'd like to come." She ran a finger gently across the faded scar on his cheek

"No, but we could go for a ride tomorrow."

"Up to the outstation and stay the night?"

"Maybe." He shrugged out of his suit jacket and followed her gaze to the bed. "Later," he promised.

She skipped down the stairs and found Jack on his second cup of tea. "You'll have dinner here tonight, won't you, Jack? Mrs. Bates has a nice piece of beef on cooking."

Ross stepped into the room.

"Yes thank you. Oh Ross, Harry's invited me to dinner and I've accepted. What time will we be back?"

"Um…have it ready for seven-thirty."

When the men departed, Harry carted their luggage upstairs and unpacked everything. She moved Ross' clothes to one side in the wardrobe, and hung up all her new things. His uniform pants and jacket she put on a hanger in the wardrobe, everything else she left in the kit bag for him to deal with. He would look so handsome all dressed up.
How can I ever let him go?

Padding over to the window, she pushed it open so she could watch him ride off. They had shared this room while they waited to get married, unbeknown to Mrs. Bates, who had prepared a guest bedroom for her. For her first night on Devil's Ridge as Mrs. Ross Calvert she wanted everything to be extra special.

Harry stripped off the bed linen, replacing the plain white sheets with lace-trimmed ones from the large, well stocked linen press on the landing. Tripping down the stairs, she went straight to the rose garden and picked several long-stemmed roses. She buried her face in the soft petals, inhaling their intoxicating perfume.

A small pine forest grew out the back beyond the garden fence. Mrs. Bates said Ross' father planted it many years ago so there would always be a plentiful supply of Christmas trees, but Eric claimed it as his special place.

Back inside the house she dashed upstairs and arranged the roses in a crystal vase on the dresser. The open window let in the fresh clean fragrance of the bush. Harry now felt certain she carried Ross' child. The feelings of nausea, the tiredness and the fact that she wept over trifles, as well as a lack of any monthly flow, were some of the symptoms Elsie mentioned, and she had them all. There could be no mistake now. The night before he left for the war, she would prepare a special meal as a prelude to telling him the good news.

She skipped into the nursery that was next door to the main bedroom, connected by a door from Ross' dressing room. An intricately carved rocking cradle reposed in the middle of the floor and a mahogany chest of drawers, with twist and turned columns down the side, was pushed up against one wall. Her baby would use Ross and Eric's nursery furniture.

If only you could love me, and you weren't going off to the war I would be so happy. He might be away for years, might never come back home, like Eric.

"You will come back, you will," she said fiercely. It was the only way she could bear to think about it.

The highchair Ross had eaten his baby food in could be set to a lower position and rest on the floor to become a rocker. Numerous items of baby clothing had been carefully stored away along with beautiful shawls and satin trimmed blankets.

* * *

As Harry set the table in the dining room, she admired the oval, balloon backed chairs with the woolen tapestry seats. She used the special gold trimmed china and crystal goblets. Over the table hung a beautiful amber glass lamp. When she carefully lit each of the eight candles on the ends of the elaborately carved arms, the effect became stunning.

Mrs. Bates explained that they dressed formally for dinner only if they had guests, but Harry changed into a spotted white voile dress with a scattering of green leaves around the skirt. She brushed her wayward curls and dabbed rose water on her wrists and throat.

She insisted on Mrs. Bates joining them. The housekeeper had changed into a black taffeta dress, but Harry wasn't surprised when the old lady put on an enormous wraparound apron. While Ross was upstairs washing, she carried in a tureen full of roast vegetables and Mrs. Bates set the meat up on a tray ready for him to carve.

"Good evening, ladies." Jack arrived wearing black pants and a clean white shirt. "You've done us proud."

Ross strode in sniffing appreciatively. He wore dark trousers with a braided side seam and a white evening shirt with pin tucks down the front. His hair was damp and slicked back, and he had also taken the time to shave. Harry couldn't stop staring at him.