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Authors: Dorothy Cork
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Ellis commented on them out of nervousness.
`Oyster pine,' Steve told her. He pushed open a door and gestured for her to go in, then followed and deposited her two large bags on the floor. She watched him cross the room and pull back the yellow quilted bedcover. The thought came into her head quite madly that he was going to drag her over to the bed and make love to her, and she felt her heart begin to pound.
He looked up and stared at her.
`What's the matter now?'
`N-nothing,' she stammered. 'What do you mean?'
`The look on your face. You've thought of something that's got you in a panic.'
She searched wildly for an explanation, because of course he'd only been checking to see if the bed was made up. But she could think of nothing and her eyes fell before his. She moved blindly and picked up one of her suitcases. She had the awful feeling he knew exactly what she'd been thinking. He reached out and took the suitcase from her and she felt his fingers brush against hers and caught her breath. I'd—better unpack,' she said, her voice low.
`Take your time.' He deposited the bag on top of a low sturdy-looking chest that looked as if it had been carefully and lovingly made by some pioneer of long ago, then he turned and looked at her.
`I hope you're satisfied with the middle course I steered just now—the concession I made you. Or should I call it a—compromise?' he concluded, his green eyes mocking.
She felt her heart give a leap of anger. He knew very well she wasn't satisfied. She was quite positive he'd deliberately made her position a dubious one and her distrust of him deepened. She told him tartly, 'I'm not satisfied at all. Why should I be? Charlie was expecting you to bring a housekeeper, and you just ignored me when I said what I did about the shearers. You—you made me look a fake ! '
He shrugged negligently. 'How do I know you're not? I didn't satisfy myself on that point last night ... As for the housekeeper my brother was expecting, that's another story. In any case, as you already know, I'd sooner see you as my wife than anything else.'
She crimsoned slowly. 'I have no intention of becoming your—wife. Marriage is a—a serious business. You can't go into it with your eyes shut.'
`I certainly wouldn't do that. My eyes are well and truly open, Ellis. I gave up fantasising about love long ago.'
`You mean you don't believe in it, I suppose.'
He narrowed his eyes. 'I believe in love about as much as I believe in Father Christmas. It's a lot of makebelieve , and marriage is the same kind of a game.'
`Then it's a game I wouldn't care to play with you,' she said swiftly.
`At least you could be sure I wouldn't cheat,' he mocked. 'We, make your bed. There's linen in the cupboard at the head of the stairs. Get unpacked. Feel free to look around the house and open all the doors. There are no secrets for you to discover. And tonight, by the way, Leanne will get the dinner, so keep out of the kitchen ... I'm going to change and get out in the paddocks with Charl ie. '
When he had gone Ellis stared after him feeling frustrated and angry. Did he imagine she—or any girl at all—would agree to marry him when he didn't even pretend to any tender feelings ?—when he said marriage was a game of makebelieve? Yet Jan had agreed to marry him, and Ellis couldn't for the life of her imagine why. Had she thought he was in love with her? And was he? Or—or couldn't Jan distinguish between love and passion? Certainly Steve Gascoyne was capable of passion
Ellis put her two hands to her flushed cheeks and looked across the room at the big windows that had a view over the trees to the blue of the sea. Then, for the first time, she really looked at the room that had been given to her. Everything looked very comfortable and in the best of taste—the bed with its yellow cover, the pale floral curtains at the windows, the soft golden beige floor rugs. The furniture was dark and sheeny
and looked so solid and
`Oyster pine,' Steve told her. He pushed open a door and gestured for her to go in, then followed and deposited her two large bags on the floor. She watched him cross the room and pull back the yellow quilted bedcover. The thought came into her head quite madly that he was going to drag her over to the bed and make love to her, and she felt her heart begin to pound.
He looked up and stared at her.
`What's the matter now?'
`N-nothing,' she stammered. 'What do you mean?'
`The look on your face. You've thought of something that's got you in a panic.'
She searched wildly for an explanation, because of course he'd only been checking to see if the bed was made up. But she could think of nothing and her eyes fell before his. She moved blindly and picked up one of her suitcases. She had the awful feeling he knew exactly what she'd been thinking. He reached out and took the suitcase from her and she felt his fingers brush against hers and caught her breath. I'd—better unpack,' she said, her voice low.
`Take your time.' He deposited the bag on top of a low sturdy-looking chest that looked as if it had been carefully and lovingly made by some pioneer of long ago, then he turned and looked at her.
`I hope you're satisfied with the middle course I steered just now—the concession I made you. Or should I call it a—compromise?' he concluded, his green eyes mocking.
She felt her heart give a leap of anger. He knew very well she wasn't satisfied. She was quite positive he'd deliberately made her position a dubious one and her distrust of him deepened. She told him tartly, 'I'm not satisfied at all. Why should I be? Charlie was expecting you to bring a housekeeper, and you just ignored me when I said what I did about the shearers. You—you made me look a fake ! '
He shrugged negligently. 'How do I know you're not? I didn't satisfy myself on that point last night ... As for the housekeeper my brother was expecting, that's another story. In any case, as you already know, I'd sooner see you as my wife than anything else.'
She crimsoned slowly. 'I have no intention of becoming your—wife. Marriage is a—a serious business. You can't go into it with your eyes shut.'
`I certainly wouldn't do that. My eyes are well and truly open, Ellis. I gave up fantasising about love long ago.'
`You mean you don't believe in it, I suppose.'
He narrowed his eyes. 'I believe in love about as much as I believe in Father Christmas. It's a lot of makebelieve , and marriage is the same kind of a game.'
`Then it's a game I wouldn't care to play with you,' she said swiftly.
`At least you could be sure I wouldn't cheat,' he mocked. 'We, make your bed. There's linen in the cupboard at the head of the stairs. Get unpacked. Feel free to look around the house and open all the doors. There are no secrets for you to discover. And tonight, by the way, Leanne will get the dinner, so keep out of the kitchen ... I'm going to change and get out in the paddocks with Charl ie. '
When he had gone Ellis stared after him feeling frustrated and angry. Did he imagine she—or any girl at all—would agree to marry him when he didn't even pretend to any tender feelings ?—when he said marriage was a game of makebelieve? Yet Jan had agreed to marry him, and Ellis couldn't for the life of her imagine why. Had she thought he was in love with her? And was he? Or—or couldn't Jan distinguish between love and passion? Certainly Steve Gascoyne was capable of passion
Ellis put her two hands to her flushed cheeks and looked across the room at the big windows that had a view over the trees to the blue of the sea. Then, for the first time, she really looked at the room that had been given to her. Everything looked very comfortable and in the best of taste—the bed with its yellow cover, the pale floral curtains at the windows, the soft golden beige floor rugs. The furniture was dark and sheeny
and looked so solid and
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