Lillian's Light Horseman (14 page)

“It is lovely.” Lillian twirled around. “Ruth really was very talented.”

“I think we can work with this one for the picnic race day and this deep red velvet dress will look lovely for the ball,” Mrs. Thompson said, as she held the dress up in front of Lillian to study it in the mirror. “It brings out the natural mahogany color of your hair.”

The dresses decided upon, the women got to work with the alterations. Lillian felt much more comfortable about the day and evening ahead, knowing that she’d be dressed appropriately and wouldn’t embarrass William. She still worried about his reaction to her altering and wearing his wife’s clothes but she’d find out soon enough what William’s response would be.

* * * *

The Saturday of the picnic races dawned bright and sunny. William was looking forward to spending the day with Lillian and was hoping that some enjoyment and time spent in each other’s company would serve to relax her a little. He also had another agenda—he wanted to be seen together and not just as property owner and governess, but also as potential companions, while observing the protocols of propriety. It was a fine line to walk, he knew.

He’d given their situation much thought, and although their current relationship was not ideal, he’d have done anything to have experienced half as much with Lillian ten years ago. Since she’d set sail for England and subsequently out of his life, he’d never allowed himself to hope that he would see her again and had delegated her memory to a locked compartment within his heart as he’d conscientiously moved on with his life.

He’d never spoken to his wife about Lillian but he knew that Ruth had been aware there had been someone before her, whom he’d loved and cherished, and her awareness of that pained him. Before she died, she’d told him that she hoped he would find someone who would love him and the children as much as she did. He was sure that she’d have approved of Lillian and that she’d be happy for him.

Now, he had to focus on the way ahead for himself and Lillian. He didn’t want to rush things with her. Albeit that he’d taken her virginity and introduced her to equally enjoyable sexual activities, he also wanted to solidify their emotional relationship and for that, he needed to move slowly and surely. There was one fact that he was completely confident about and that fact was that Lillian was his—indisputably, undeniably his. He wouldn’t let her go a second time and he needed to prove to her that they belonged together. He knew
his
feelings, but he was still unsure about hers.

The intimacy that they’d shared was new to her—unfamiliar sensations and a new sexual awareness that he wanted her to grow into, embrace and feel comfortable with. He knew that he’d rushed the sexual side of things but he wouldn’t rush the relationship. To start with, he didn’t want to marry her immediately. People would talk and Lilly deserved more than a quick, thrown-together wedding where all the guests would be questioning the reason behind such a hurried affair.
He
didn’t care what people thought, but he wouldn’t put Lilly through any uncomfortable, less than ideal situations
and
he had to be sure that she was ready to spend the rest of her life with him.

Of course, he’d already admitted to himself that he wouldn’t let her go and in truth, he couldn’t ever see himself doing so easily, but she required time to adjust, to make her own decision, because he couldn’t bear for her to tie herself to him just for reasons of expectation and security. For too long she’d been living a life decreed by others and he knew that for Lilly to be truly happy, she’d have to make a decision based on her terms and above all, he needed to be sure that she still loved him.

Chapter Sixteen

Lillian had finished dressing. The green dress had turned out pleasingly and she was happy with the alterations they’d made. Ruth’s taller stature meant that the gown midriff hung lower on Lillian, giving the dress the fashionable dropped waistline. She and Mrs. Thompson had removed much of the lace, so the bodice now had a simple V of lace overlay in the front and back. The skirt of the dress flowed loosely to swirl around her calves. It was fashionable and appropriate for a picnic race day and she hoped that if Ruth was looking down on them, she’d be proud of what they’d achieved and happy with how well her dress looked.

She donned a dark green hat, which she’d brought with her from London. It was adorned with a large satin bow and she fixed it to her hair with two hatpins. The hat was the height of current fashion and she’d been unable to part with it before she’d left England. It was one of the few luxury concessions she’d allowed herself.

She left her room and went to meet William in the drawing room. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door, entered and closed it quietly behind her.

William was standing with his back to her. When he turned to face her, his eyes grew wide and his jaw hardened, a muscle twitching erratically in his cheek. He was angry.

“I’m s-sorry. I shouldn’t have presumed… I didn’t have anything appropriate… Mrs. Thompson thought…”

Lillian didn’t know what to say—how to explain. She knew it had been a bad idea to alter his wife’s dress. She and Mrs. Thompson had discussed the fact that Ruth wouldn’t have minded, but she’d just realized horribly that they hadn’t taken William’s reaction or feelings on the matter into consideration.

She needed to get back to her room, to get out of the dress that had obviously caused William so much offense and distress.

“Excuse me,” she whispered, turning to flee.

“Lillian!”

Her name, spoken in such a commanding tone, stopped her in her tracks.

“You look beautiful,” William said softly.

Slowly, Lillian turned to face him. “I’m sorry. I should have asked your permission before I altered Ruth’s dress. It was just that you were away mustering and Mrs. Thompson insisted that Ruth would not have minded, that she would have hated the fact that her lovely garments are being unused and unloved.”

William smiled. “Millie is correct, of course. Ruth hated waste, of any type—particularly given things were so difficult during the war. She most definitely would abhor the fact that her clothes are sitting unremembered and idle in a trunk. I meant to give them to charity, but I never got around to it. Ruth has been gone for some time now, Lillian. It was just a shock to see that dress again—it was a favorite of hers and mine. I wouldn’t have recognized it but for the striking color.”

“So you’re not mad?” Lillian asked, hope and relief tingeing her voice.

“No. I most definitely am not mad. Now, come here.”

Lillian hesitated then moved toward him. When she drew closer, he grasped her to him and wrapped her in a warm embrace. She circled her arms about his waist and pressed her head against his chest, reveling in the hard strength of him and his masculine scent. It was a place where she felt protected and comforted.

He pulled back a little, cupped her chin and lifted her face so she could meet his eyes. “I’m sorry. I should have asked you if you had appropriate attire. I didn’t think,” he said quietly. “I could have arranged for a shopping expedition or for some fabric to be delivered.”

“I sold most of my good dresses before I left England. I needed the money more than I needed pretty clothes.”

He tensed against her and closed his eyes momentarily, as if in pain. “I’m sorry that you were ever in that position. You must have been terrified, not knowing what awaited you in Australia and having to endure that long voyage alone.”

She shrugged. “I managed. I just had to have faith that everything would work out.”

“Well, I’m beyond relieved that you made it here, to me, safely,” he stated and dropped his mouth to hers.

Lillian’s knees grew weak and her heart rate doubled as William swept his tongue into her mouth to tangle and dance with hers. He banded an arm tightly around her waist, held her to him and deepened their kiss, slanting his lips across hers. Everything flew from her mind and all sense of reality left her as she lost herself in William’s arms, in the feel of him possessing her with his kiss. She snaked her arms up around his neck, gripped the hair at his nape and sank further into his embrace, succumbing to his mouth as he drank from her.

All too soon, he pulled away, steadying her with two hands on her shoulders while she caught her breath.

He dropped his forehead to hers. “That should keep me going for the day. We should go. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “I’m very excited.”

“Good. It should be a fun day.” He smiled and led her from the room.

* * * *

Colorful picnic blankets were spread far and wide. Ladies were strolling with parasols and children were playing and running through the throng. Men stood in groups, chatting about horse form and history while bookies cried out the latest odds. It was a hive of activity—a typical day at the country races—and Lillian felt a wave of exhilaration sweep through her. She had a small amount of money she’d brought with her from her savings that she would use to place some little bets later.

They located a good position to set up their picnic blanket and Mrs. Thompson and Lillian set to work unpacking the food. They’d assembled a delicious array of cold roast lamb, potato salad, bread and cheese, and had packed some homemade blackberry wine. The children ran off to meet up with their friends and William went to speak with some of the locals to discuss horses, farming and wool prices. When he returned, he was carrying two fold-up wooden chairs, which he set up next to their picnic blanket for her and Mrs. Thompson.

They located the children and sat to eat lunch. There was something about eating a meal in the sunshine and among such frivolity that made the food even more delicious. Lillian drank a few glasses of Mrs. Thompson’s fruity wine and was feeling decidedly tipsy, heightening her mood for enjoyment. They chatted to neighbors, who stopped by to say hello, and William introduced her to those whom she didn’t know. She was having a lovely time, relaxing and enjoying the beautiful, sunny day. At one o’clock, William announced that the races would soon start.

“Oh good,” Lillian exclaimed in excitement. “I’m going to place a few little bets.”

William grinned. “Would you like me to give you some tips? I’ve had some interesting discussions with some of the locals.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Remember, these are not the races you will be accustomed to in the city,” William explained. “It really is more about the social occasion and it’s one of the few opportunities when we get together as a community. The horses are predominantly owned and ridden by locals, but we do have fun predicting the winners.”

He went on to outline the horses and jockeys and those who he expected to do well, explaining the odds against each.

“Do you have enough money?” he enquired mildly.

Lillian gave him a sharp look. “Yes, thank you. I have some money put away. I can definitely manage to make a few small bets.”

William regarded her coolly. “I’m merely looking out for you, Lilly. I would hate for you to feel obligated to spend money that you don’t have.”

“Well, I’ve managed quite well on my own thus far, thank you. I’m going to take a stroll around, then place a few bets for fun.” She stood and stretched. “I need to exercise my legs after sitting for so long.”

Lillian marveled at all the brightly colored stands selling lemonade, jams and cakes. There were people playing games of horseshoes and children running sack races.

Childhood memories of similar race day picnics flooded her consciousness and left her feeling pleasantly nostalgic for the carefree, happy days of her youth.

She turned a corner, one eye trained on the game of horseshoe in front of her when a figure to her right caught her attention.

“Well, if it isn’t the little governess,” a voice sneered.

Lillian turned to find Mary Simpson at her side. The woman appeared less than pleased to see her and made a show of looking her up and down, an expression of contempt crossing her features.

Lillian thought quickly and opted to be civil to the woman. After all, it was too nice a day to spoil it with petty nastiness from the likes of her.

“Good day, Mrs. Simpson,” Lillian returned politely. “I hope you’re enjoying the festivities.”

“
You
obviously are,” the woman rejoined sarcastically. “After all, you do have the handsome and highly sought after William Cartwright by your side. Just where you’re angling to be permanently, no doubt.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Lillian responded mildly. “I’m not certain if you’re aware, but William and I are childhood friends. As such, is it very surprising that I’ve become the children’s governess?”

She was pleased to see the look of surprise cross the woman’s features. Obviously Mrs. Simpson was not aware of the history that she and William shared.

She recovered quickly. “I don’t think that
you
are aware that William and I share some history ourselves.”

Lillian had had enough. The woman clearly felt slighted, and while she couldn’t really blame her, by the way William had explained things, there was nothing serious to their relationship. She decided that the time for playing nice was over.

“As it happens, Mrs. Simpson, William did explain to me your relationship—such as it
was
. He also mentioned to me that it was a casual affair and one which he has no wish to continue.”

The other woman paled beneath her heavily rouged cheeks. “You think that your youth and beauty will win him over. But William needs a real woman, a woman who is experienced in the arts of taking care of a man. A woman who can make him a good wife,” she spat hatefully.

So this is the crux of it
.
Mary Simpson obviously has designs on William that journey beyond the bedroom
. She looked the woman over and knew that William would never have pursued more than a casual affair with her. She was brash and brassy and from what Lillian had learned thus far, she could also be quite spiteful—all qualities, she knew, that William would despise in a serious partner. No, while it was clear to Lillian that Mary Simpson had perhaps harbored a wish to become the next Mrs. Cartwright, it was also clear to her that William would never have encouraged the woman to think thus.