‘And here I was thinking you hadn’t noticed.’ His tone was at its most mocking.
They were walking beneath the canopy of tall trees when suddenly, with a screech as loud as a klaxon, a large bird swooped from its dark green cover appearing to make a dive for them.
Immediately Holt swung up an arm, while with the other he pulled the cowering Marissa to his side where she buried her head. ‘Get! Go on, get!’ he shouted at the bird.
With another screech, the bird was gone, flapping its wings heavily as it flew across the garden.
‘My God, what was it, an eagle?’ Marissa felt safe enough to lift her face.
‘Don’t be silly!’ He laughed, adding insult to injury. ‘An eagle wouldn’t be nesting in those trees. A wedge tailed eagle has a wingspan of over seven feet. An eagle could have picked you up and carried you away to its desert eyrie.’
‘I only meant it was huge!’ she said, defending herself. She was leaning against him and he still had one arm around her.
Holt tried hard to collect his thoughts. They were flowing through him like a stream in flood. The only way he could fight back temptation was to stay perfectly still. He had never in his life met a woman he so wanted to pick up and carry off. For long moments she had been snuggling against him, hiding her silky head against his chest. He wasn’t starving for sex. He knew he could get it whether or not he proposed marriage—but he was starving for sex with the right woman. One that moved him, tore at his heart. One he had wanted on sight. The great irony was he had no option but to restrain all his wild impulses. She and the boy were under his protection.
He released her carelessly. ‘Sorry the bird spooked you, but I think it’s safe to walk you home.’
Some note in his voice created the illusion that was what he meant.
Home.
She didn’t know if she would ever find one but Wungalla was the next best thing.
CHAPTER SIX
BY THE end of a week Marissa had established a workable routine. It hadn’t been entirely plain sailing. Georgy still gave in to the odd moment when she had to get a good lusty shout out of her system, but there were no screams, no tantrums. Instead day by day she blossomed into a bright happy co-operative child.
‘It’s your gentle, understanding hand, Marissa, my dear,’ Catherine told her. ‘You must make lessons interesting, too. I always knew Georgy was highly intelligent, but no one could have called her an apt pupil. The last governess was at her wit’s end.’
To Marissa’s mind, Riley pointed out the probable answer. ‘I must be like one of those quiet little ponies trainers use to keep their thoroughbreds calm before the races.’ He gave his infectious laugh, causing Georgy, who was most interested in the theory, to join in.
‘Well, I know about that, but how do you?’ Marissa asked, constantly surprised by Riley’s fund of general knowledge.
Riley’s response was instant. ‘Daddy told me.’ For the first time he didn’t sound distressed when he mentioned their father. ‘He even took me to the country races once. We had a great time. Do they have country races here?’ He turned to Georgy with a look of happy expectancy.
‘We have better!’ she pronounced, jumping up from her desk and waving her arms expansively. ‘We have polo matches. Holt is a beaut player! My mother used to call him The Conqueror. I think that means he used to hit other players on the conk with his mallet, but he didn’t. Last year it was Wungalla’s turn to host the final. We had the Polo Ball in the Great Hall. I didn’t get to go on account of being small, but my aunties came. They’re really nice to me. Aunty Alex was Holt’s hostess seeing I don’t have a mum. She did a great job. Aunty Lois came, as well. She’s head over heels in love with Holt but he won’t commit.’
Marissa stared at the little girl intently. ‘Who did you hear say that, Georgy?’
Georgy’s face settled into a wicked grin. ‘How do you know I didn’t say it myself?’
‘They’re the words of an adult,’ Marissa replied, ‘and they really shouldn’t be repeated. They can only cause embarrassment. Do you know what embarrassment means?’
Georgy shrugged her thin shoulders. ‘It’d make Aunty Lois mad of course. Ack-shally, it was Aunt Lois’s friend, Tiffany. The one she brought with her from Sydney. Are we ever going to see Aunt Lois again?’ She directed that question at Marissa who responded warmly.
‘Well, of course you are! Aunt Lois is family. I understand she’ll be here at Christmas.’
‘Just so long as you two guys are!’ said Georgy. ‘Riley can marry me when we grow up.’
Riley gulped.
‘You can sit down now, Georgy,’ Marissa said. ‘For now, we have to get cracking on your sums.’
‘Can Riley help me?’ Georgy returned obediently to her desk.
Most late afternoons Marissa and Riley enjoyed a swim. Georgy had begun by sitting on one of the recliners, gradually moving closer to the pool, until finally she chose to sit on the top step at the shallow end dangling her feet in the water.
‘Why don’t you come in?’ Riley called, his eyes the brightest blue in his glowing face. ‘It’s great! I’ll look after you.’
‘Don’t pressure her, Riley.’ Marissa swam up behind him speaking very quietly.
‘I don’t have a swimsuit,’ Georgy called. It didn’t sound like an excuse, rather regret.
‘Don’t worry, we’ll get one,’ Marissa called back. ‘Something really smart. Your father will be home Sunday.’
‘Are you going to tell him I’m cured?’ The expression on Georgy’s small face was one of hope.
‘Cured of what?’ Riley lifted himself out of the water to sit on the step beside her.
‘Cured of being frightened of the water,’ she told him simply. ‘My mother was always trying to throw me in the pool. She was really mean, like your mum.’
Marissa’s heart lurched. The children were growing close. They spent quite a lot of time talking to one another. From the sound of it Riley had been confiding in his new friend. She had to consider it as therapy. At least Georgy had accepted she wasn’t Riley’s mother.
‘After you teach me how to swim, you have to teach me how to sit on a horse,’ Georgy further astounded them by saying.
‘And you have to teach me to draw pictures as good as yours,’ Riley said.
‘You like my pictures?’ Georgy looked at him in amazement, her cheeks going quite pink.
‘Very, very much!’ said Riley.
Georgy started cracking her knuckles. ‘Well, Aunty Lois said she should show them to a psy … psy …’
‘Psychiatrist,’ Riley sweetly supplied. ‘Maybe you have way too much imagination for her?’
Georgy kissed him. ‘After tea I’m going to sing for you. You and Marissa. You’re my great friends. I have a really good voice but only Zoltan ever heard it.’
‘What songs do you know then?’ Riley eyed her with admiration.
Georgy jumped up so she could hand Marissa her towel. ‘Wait and see.’
If they were expecting nursery ditties, Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, Click Go the Shears, Boy, Tom, Tom the Piper’s Son and the like, Georgy’s performance brought the house down. She had graciously consented to give her impromptu concert in her great-grandmother’s sitting room.
The