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His Brother's Wife Page 9
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“I’ve thought of a better idea. Why don’t you become Wilbur?”
“What!” The word shot from his mouth.
“Who would know? If you pretend to be him, no-one would find out. How could they? The Americans would never find you. We’d both be safe from the law.”
He gnawed his lip. “If we went into town someone might realize. We’d never get away with it.”
What a terrible dilemma they were in. He wished he had never set foot on Wilbur’s wretched farm. But what would have become of Mattie if he hadn’t? It was likely his crazy in the head brother would have eventually killed her, either from ill-treatment or overwork. What kind of fiend would feed his dead baby to a dog?
He gritted his teeth to stop himself falling onto the floor in a screaming heap.
“You are so like him, Will, no-one would ever guess you weren’t him. Your voice is different, but you wouldn’t need to speak much. You know what he was like, only grunting a few words here and there. In fact, he always wrote a list for the general store, so he didn’t have to speak to them at all.”
“It could work I suppose.” He pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed. “It means you’d be married to me for a lifetime. I have to be honest, Mattie, I’m fond of you.” His expression was pained. “My heart is buried with Anna and my two daughters. I couldn’t…”
“I understand. For all intents and purposes we’re married, but I can’t let you…” A shudder tore through her body. “After the way he violated me, I couldn’t let a man touch me that way. Even you.”
“All right, we’ll do it. I’d never make you do anything you didn’t want to. I’ll never love another woman. I couldn’t risk putting myself through that kind of agony again. I wouldn’t survive.”
“If…I mean, if you um, need a woman…”
“I don’t, not at the moment. We can worry about that if and when it happens.”
“There are places where men can go to, to…”
“Yeah, I know.” He grimaced. “Are you sure Mattie, really sure? Once we start this charade, there’s no turning back. It will be a lifelong commitment.”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
***
A month after McIntyre’s death, all the swelling and bruising had disappeared from Mattie’s face.
“How about we go into Castlemaine?” Will suggested at breakfast one morning.
“Well, we are starting to get low on stores.” She gnawed her lip.
“We have to do it sometime, the sooner the better. Dress the way you did when you accompanied Wilbur, and you’ll have to tell me what he wore. I hate the thought of wearing his clothes, though.”
“He didn’t dress much different to you, except he always wore the brown hat that’s hanging on the back of the door. He always wrote a list of what he wanted at the general store.”
“I’m not sure I can write the same way.”
“How about I write it?” she suggested. “We could bandage your right hand, and say you cut your fingers and couldn’t write it out.”
“That’s a good idea. So, you can read and write?”
“Yes, my grandfather sent me to school until we moved on to the goldfields.”
She washed the dishes, and it always surprised her that Will dried them. He was a gentleman, kind and considerate, everything McIntyre wasn’t. She was liking him more and more with each passing day, even though she shouldn’t.
The farm was running much better now Will was putting time into it. He had only once ventured away, and that was when he drove a few sheep into Maldon, and sold them to the butcher, who would slaughter them and sell them directly to the miners in one of the busier goldfield communities. It had meant being away from her for the night. She had never been afraid of staying on her own, but she locked the doors and windows in case the feral dogs returned.
She still broke out in a cold sweat every time she thought about that shocking day. She had most likely killed her husband, and the dogs had disposed of his body so she would never know for sure. If he hadn’t been so cruel and vicious, trapping and beating the black dog, he might still be alive, although she most probably would be dead.
It was a different butcher to the one McIntyre had always done business with. The butcher paid in gold dust, and Will made arrangements to sell larger numbers on a more regular basis.
Occasionally, if he didn’t concentrate, a few of Will’s words did take on a slight American twang, but hopefully in time, the accent would disappear completely.
Mattie changed into her faded gown, and wore her dead mother-in-law’s bonnet. She waited on the front porch for Will to collect her in the wagon.
He vaulted down from his seat and stepped over to her. “Ready?”
“Yes.” He lifted her into the wagon and leapt on board himself. Had his hands lingered a little longer than necessary?
“I’d like to buy you a pretty new bonnet,” he said as he slapped the horses’ rumps a couple of times with the reins.
“Not three?” She laughed, suddenly feeling happy. He grinned. “Never three, or six.
It was dangerous to like him so much, but she couldn’t help herself. If only…Don’t think this way, you’ll only get hurt. His heart belongs to Anna. What love. What loyalty to her memory, she would settle for half that and be happy.
“How will I know who is who?” His voice brought her out of her daydream.
She thought for a moment. “I’ll address everyone by name first, then you can either grunt a greeting or just nod.”
“Should work. I have to say, I’m feeling rather anxious about this, Mattie. This is our biggest test.”
She patted his hand. “I know. Everything will be all right. Just speak as little as possible, and don’t be nice to me. He never was.” Bitterness crept into her voice. “He treated me harshly even in front of people.”
“Don’t keep thinking about him. He was crazy mad in the head. No man in his right mind would carry on like he did.”
The passing grassland was dotted with pink and white daisies, and one whole hillside was covered in purple flowers. When summer arrived the hill would be bare, the ground dry and barren. Gaudy birds flew overhead screeching to each other. The soft buzzing of bees drifted in on the slight breeze.
The nearer they got to town the more nervous she became. There was a tenseness in Will also. Both their lives depended on not raising suspicions.
She swallowed down on her fear and waved to a couple of women as they drove down the main street. “Nod,” she whispered to Will and he did as she asked.
“Go down the side street on the right of the general store, then turn into the yard.”
He obeyed her whispered instructions. “Lift me down, but otherwise don’t touch me. After the order is filled, they’ll get someone to help you carry it out through the back entrance. Load up then come back for me. We’ll go out through the front.”
Mattie sent up a silent prayer they wouldn’t meet the preacher, the only person who McIntyre ever held any type of conversation with. The man was nearly as cruel as he was.
“Well, if it isn’t Mattie.” She swung around. The preacher’s cold eyes bored into her. She stopped dead. Thinking of this fiendish man had made him materialize.
“McIntyre.”
“Good morning, Preacher,” she said quickly, giving Will his cue.
“Where’s your child.”
“She miscarried it,” Will said gruffly.
Tears filled her eyes, and she wiped at them with her sleeve.
“Stop sniveling, you’ll have plenty more.” Will’s voice was so like McIntyre’s she flinched.
“Quite so,” the preacher said. “A baby every year and a regular beating is what I suggest to all husbands in my congregation. And no man there is cursed with a defiant or disobedient wife.”
“Thank you, Preacher. Wife, come on, you’re wasting time.” Will all but pushed her through the shop doorway.
“What an evil sonofabitch,” he muttered. “I
ought to punch him in the mouth.”
“Shush. Oh, Cecil. Good morning,” she said, smiling at the storekeeper.
“Mrs. McIntyre,” he gushed. “More material?”
“No,” Will snapped. “Just fill my order and be quick about it.” He handed over the list, making sure the man saw his bandaged hand. “She wrote it,” he growled. “Hope you can read it.” He gave her a ferocious stare, so like his brother’s she inwardly quaked. Was Will’s gentlemanly demeanor a cover for a darker side? One fiend out of her life only to be replaced by another? Her knees nearly buckled and she clung to the counter for support.
After Cecil scurried off to organize their order, Will whispered. “Are you all right? You’re as white as a ghost.”
“I feel a little faint.”
“Don’t go fainting on me, wife,” he said seeing Cecil’s return. “Sit.” He hauled a chair over with his foot and she slumped on it. “Women, they’re so weak.” His lips curled with derision.
“Could I get you a drink of water, Mrs. McIntyre?”
“No,” Will snapped. “Just hurry up with my order.” Holding his bandaged hand against his chest, he stuck the other hand into his pocket.
“Yes, Yes.” Cecil scurried off again, beckoning to a boy to help.
Mattie took several shuddering breaths, trying to get herself under control. A woman hurried over. “Are you all right, dear?”
“Yes, thank you, I just felt a little faint. I lost my baby and…”
“Oh, how dreadful. Young man, you should take better care of your wife.”
“Mind your own business.” Will gave her a savage look and she scuttled off. “Come along, wife. You can wait in the wagon.” He almost put out his hand to help her, but quickly dropped it to his side.
Mattie struggled up. “Here.” He grabbed a red and white candy stick and thrust it at her. “Put it on my account.”
“Very good,” Cecil mumbled.
“Well, how much do I owe?”
Will paid Cecil in gold dust, grabbed her by the arm and they headed out through the back door of the store.
The youth was still loading up the wagon. Will put his hands around her waist and lifted her into the wagon. His lips were drawn into a tight line, his face chalk white. He was either angry or sick.
Once the wagon was loaded he climbed up, flicked the reins and they were off. Mattie sat stiff as a board, as far away from him as possible. No words were exchanged between them until they passed through town.
Once out on the open road, Will pulled the horses up, leapt down and strode over to the back of the wagon and vomited. He came back a short time later rubbing his mouth with his bandaged hand.
He climbed on board and sat there. “I’m sorry, Mattie. It sickened me to have to speak to you in such a vile way. When I looked into your eyes and saw the fear I hated myself. You thought I was like Wilbur. Didn’t you?”
“Yes. You were so convincing.”
He picked up her hand. “To think any man, let alone my own brother, would speak that way to his wife, in fact any woman, made me want to vomit. I don’t know how I stopped it spewing out of my mouth until I got out of town.”
“You should be on the stage you were so convincing.”
“I don’t want to ever have to act this way again. What if next time we need supplies we drive into Maldon? It’s a bit further away, but no-one would know us there. Then we can go somewhere for a nice meal, or I could buy you a few pretty things.”
“Oh, yes please, that would be lovely.” She touched his hand. “Thank you.”
She broke the candy stick in half and handed him a piece, and as they munched in a companionable silence it gave her hope their desperate charade would work, and maybe one day lead to something more. She wasn’t quite sure what the more was, but she wanted it.
In the short time she had known Will, she had grown fond of him. How did he feel about her? It was useless thinking he could ever love her because his heart was buried with Anna and his girls.
Why shouldn’t they try to find happiness together? A baby maybe? Her arms would have someone to hold. Her womb wouldn’t remain empty. Would he agree if she asked him? Heat suffused her body thinking about putting such a delicate question to him. Please God, let him be having similar thoughts.
They arrived home as the afternoon sun slipped behind banked-up clouds, causing her to shiver. He helped her down. Had his hands lingered a little longer than necessary? You foolish woman, stop imagining things.
“I’ll drop you off at the house, don’t worry too much about supper, you must be exhausted. Beans on toast will be fine. I’ll do the milking and a couple of other urgent jobs, then I’ll come inside, I think it might rain before long.”
Chapter Twelve
For the next couple of weeks Mattie watched Will when he wasn’t looking at her, although sometimes she got the distinct impression he was doing the same to her. Occasionally she caught him off guard, and inexperienced as she was in the ways of men, there was no mistaking the desire darkening his eyes. It would be lust in men like McIntyre, but not Will.
Things came to a head one night at supper. She handed him his plate, their hands touched, and she jumped back. The plate ended up on the floor.
“What’s wrong with you? You’ve gone all skittish on me.”
“I’m sorry.” She knelt down and started scooping the mess back onto the plate.
“Leave it. I’ll do it.” He got out of his chair, and at the same time as she made to get up, their heads banged together. She burst into tears, and sat on the floor crying.
“Hey, come here.” He pulled her into his arms and she sobbed into the warmth of his chest. He brought her to her feet, gently rubbing her back. His heart pounded in her ears. After a few moments he shifted position and loosened his grip. When he stepped back a pace she felt bereft.
“Why can’t you like me?” she wailed. “Am I so repulsive?”
“You’re not repulsive. You’re beautiful.” He groaned, then dragged her back into his arms. His mouth covered hers, gently at first, tentative, but when her lips softened, his kisses became more insistent until she opened her mouth to allow his tongue to dart inside.
Heat rushed through her body, pooling deep within her belly. She had never experienced such longing, such desire. He moved slightly, his hand cupped her breast, his fingers kneading her soft flesh through the material of her blouse.
Suddenly she was free. He stepped back, thrusting shaking hands through his hair. His eyes burned as bright as two blue lanterns in a darkened room.
She leaned in toward him again.
“No. No.” He hastily took a step back.
“Please, Will. What did I do wrong?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” his voice was husky. “I did. I took advantage of you. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“Why? I…I liked your kisses.”
He inhaled a deep breath. “Because I wouldn’t be able to stop at just kissing you. I want more.”
“Maybe I want more, too,” she said shakily.
“No you don’t. You hated what Wilbur did to you.”
“But you’re not him. You’re kind, considerate you wouldn’t hurt me like he did.”
“Not intentionally, but Mattie, I’m damaged. I loved Anna, I still do. I’m fond of you. I desire you, but I don’t love you.”
“I know, but you can’t go without a woman for too long.”
He gave an exasperated snort.
“I…I want a baby.”
“What!”
She clutched his hand. “I want a baby. You can give me one, and relieve your male need at the same time.”
“Mattie!”
She had gone too far to stop now. Gathering all her courage, she ploughed on. “I couldn’t bear it if you had a woman from one of those…those places.” She couldn’t believe the words tumbling out of her mouth. It was now or never. Instinctively she knew if Will didn’t take her now, there would be no s
econd chance.
Now they had started their desperate charade, there was no going back. They were together until one of them died, or Will deserted her. What had seemed such a simple idea in the beginning, was now turning into a complicated and dangerous situation.
“Please, Will.” Her boldness would have appalled her once, but suffering had changed her. Why shouldn’t she try grasping at happiness? Even if he only desired her for a short time, if he gave her a baby, it would be enough.
She moved closer to him, placed a hand on either shoulder and kissed him on the lips. He gave a strangled groan before dragging her back into his arms.
His mouth swooped on hers. His darting tongue forged a path between her parted lips and danced with hers. He lifted her up and strode toward the main bedroom.
“No, no. Not in there, I couldn’t bear it. Your room.”
He carried her into his bedroom and set her down. With trembling hands she fumbled with the buttons on her blouse. He leaned over and quickly undid them. After lifting away her camisole, he stared at her exposed breasts. A pulse convulsed in his jaw, his eyes darkened.
She drew in a shocked breath when his mouth closed over one nipple, his fingers playing with the other.
Will couldn’t believe what Mattie was allowing him to do. He had half expected to have his face slapped for taking such liberties. Now she was naked, his manhood hardened even more until it was throbbing and heavy, straining against his pants. After the way Wilbur had abused her he had to be patient.
“This is what you want isn’t it?” he gasped. “Stop me now if it isn’t.”
He slid his hand between her thighs and she gave a soft mewl. She was hot and wet, her whole body trembling. He guessed that for the first time in her life she felt passion. For me. It emboldened him to caress and explore further, deeper.
The blood pounded in his head, or maybe it was his heart – or hers. He backed her toward the bed, one flick of his wrist and the bedclothes were flung back. He lifted her up and deposited her on the sheet, and she lay on her back staring up at him.