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 old it must surely belong to the old pioneering days. Perhaps the Gascoynes had been pioneers. She didn't know, and, she reminded herself, she didn't care.
It was hardly a room for a housekeeper, she reflected wryly. From the size of the bed, it was a room for a man and his wife.
What kind of a room did Steve sleep in? she found herself wondering, and she knew that when he had left the house she would do as he had said—look into all the rooms, find out if he had a narrow monklike bed or—or a bed wide enough for sharing.
Good heavens, what mad thoughts she was having! With a feeling of guilt she attacked her suitcases, and began stowing her clothes away in the drawers and the wardrobe. All the lovely clothes Jake had heaped on her, some of them still unworn, unfamiliar, to help to mend her broken heart. Most nights at the hotel she had cried herself to sleep, but today she had barely thought of Paul. A new environment, new faces—but the simple fact was she had been too bothered by what she was doing, by her growing mistrust of Steve Gascoyne, to think of anything else at all.
She didn't look in the other rooms after all. While she was still in the midst of her unpacking she heard Steve go down the stairs and a few minutes later a car started up. Thank goodness he was out of the house, and she could relax, she thought. She finished her unpacking and then made up the bed, then found the bathroom and tidied up, though she didn't change out of the dress she was wearing.
She was brushing her hair at the mirror and trying to persuade herself that things would work out when she heard the sound of another car, an old noisy motor this time, not a quiet one like Steve had driven. Pos-
sibly it was Leanne back from shopping in Whitemark, and if so, then she had better go downstairs and introduce herself—and thank heaven she didn't have to say she was Steve's fiancée ! She wondered what Leanne would be like. Charlie had struck her as being a pleasant young man, so it was likely that his wife would be a nice girl—and they would have something in common if she and Steve had a few differences of opinion !
The girl she found in the kitchen was a very slim, very young-looking girl with thick red wavy hair that reached below her shoulders, and a pale narrow face. She wore pale blue pants and a matching top in fine cotton that looked expensive—about the same quality as the clothes Jake had bought for Ellis, and she was somehow not in the least like a country girl who lived on a sheep station. She was busy over a big box of groceries on the kitchen table and she looked up and stared as Ellis appeared.
`Oh, where did you spring from? Are you—are you Bob Mussett's niece?'
`No, I'm Ellis Lincoln.' She added awkwardly, 'You —you wouldn't have heard of me. You're Leanne, aren't you? I—I came back with Steve.' She paused and wished she'd said Mr Gascoyne instead of Steve, and that she could somehow make herself say the unconvincing words, 'I'm the new housekeeper'. Yet she knew Leanne would laugh too—just as Charlie would have laughed.
Leanne's eyes widened fractionally, but all she said was, 'Oh, you're a—a friend of Steve's ! That's nice ... Actually, we were expecting a housekeeper, and I thought I'd stock up the cupboards for a good start. Did she come with you?'
`No, I—there's just me,' Ellis stammered. 'I'm—I'm used to doing things
`Oh, for heaven's sake ! ' Leanne looked annoyed. `You're not used to cooking for shearers, are you? He's got someone coming in a day or two, hasn't he?'
`No one else. I—I can manage.'
`Don't be mad. Why should you, when you've been asked on a visit?' Leanne was thrusting the groceries higgledy-piggledy into the cupboards now, and watching her, Ellis longed to take a hand and set them to rights. She wondered how long Leanne had been married. It was clear anyhow that she hadn't been capable of taking over when Steve's aunt had been taken to hospital, and presently she perched herself on the edge of the big table and asked Ellis, 'How long are you going to stay?'
`If you mean will I still be here when shearing's on,' Ellis said after a minute, 'I shall stay if—if I can help.' It seemed to her a diplomatic way to answer the question, because she would stay if she were here to work, and not as a guest, and she was determined to win her battle over that point. She might not like Steve Gascoyne, she certainly couldn't understand him, but she would work for him, and this was certainly a beautiful kitchen. There was a gas stove as well as a slow combustion one, a big fridge and a freezer, copious cupboards; and this massive table. There was even a dishwasher, she noticed.
Leanne digested her answer in silence, then offered her cigarettes and as she lit one for herself asked innocently, 'Have you known Steve long?'
`No, not very long.' She added, because Leanne expected her to say something, 'We met at the hotel in Hobart, as a matter of fact. I was—looking for a job and—' She stopped.
`And he asked you to come to Warrianda,' Leanne said with a knowing little smile. 'Well, Flinders Island
is different from most places. It puts a lot of girls off.' Off what? Ellis wondered. Off marrying Steve? But she didn't need to be put off.
Leanne slid off the table and wandered aimlessly to the door and looked outside into the sunshine. 'I can think of other places I'd rather be,' she said restlessly, then changed the subject to remark, 'Well, now there's no housekeeper, I'd better think about dinner. It's an awful bore. Charlie's aunt ran the house before, then she was ill and had to go to hospital. She died a few days ago.'
`I know,' Ellis said sympathetically. 'Steve told me. I suppose you miss her very much.'
Leanne shrugged and came back to the table. 'I didn't really know her all that well. Charlie and I _have only been married three months—not quite that—and we had a month's honeymoon in Victoria before we came here. Aunt Constance was here then, and she did everything, so it wasn't too bad. Now it's hopeless. I haven't got the hang of this kitchen yet, and the slow combustion stove drives me crazy. I won't be able to cope with the shearers and I'm just not going to try. I really do think Steve might have brought someone back to do things.'
`Don't worry, Leanne,' said Ellis, relieved to find a housekeeper really was needed. 'I can do things, and if you like I'll get the dinner tonight to start with.' Steve had told her Leanne would do it, but wasn't it best to start the way she meant to go on? Leanne at any rate looked pleased enough.
`All right. If you're sure you want to.'
`I do,' Ellis said firmly. 'So don't you worry a bit. You'll be surprised how I can find my way round this kitchen ... What time do the men like to have their dinner?'
`Seven thirtyish,' Leanne told her. 'When they come in they like to have a wash up and a drink. Charlie likes a can of beer, and Steve usually has a whisky. There's some steak in the fridge,' she added. 'We don't eat lamb all the time, thank goodness. Are you sure you can manage? I'd really love to shower and change before Charlie comes in. I always feel so filthy after driving that horrible old car in to Whitemark.'
`Go ahead then,' said Ellis. 'I'll be all right.'
At the door, Leanne turned to tell her, 'I always dress up for dinner. At least we can pretend to be civilised, even if we're not.'
She vanished, and Ellis thought, 'She doesn't like it here,' and wondered why not—apart from the fact that she didn't seem capable of the work, which, apart from shearing time, surely wouldn't be oppressive. In Ellis's mind, the homestead was a very civilised one, and Steve, at least at the hotel in Hobart, had appeared to be a very civilised man, if dressing for dinner had anything to do with it. His attitude towards women, she had to admit, was little short of barbarous.
For the next little while she occupied herself quite happily finding her way about the kitchen, and doing a little swift reorganising of the cupboard shelves. She prepared vegetables and took the steaks from the refrigerator to take the chill off them before she cooked them. She located the dining room—a beautiful rather narrow room with one wall made completely of glass, looking through the green leaves of vines on to the side garden. There she laid the table, which she first covered with a gorgeous red linen cloth she found in the sideboard. All the cutlery and china and glassware were of high quality, and there were teak plates that she decided were used instead of table mats.
It It was a charming house, and she only wished that its
owner was half as charming.
With everything prepared, she glanced at her watch and went quickly upstairs. Leanne hadn't reappeared, but the bathroom was unoccupied and she decided to take a shower. She laid out on the bed the outfit she had decided, after a little thought, that she would wear. She wasn't going to dress up. No, she was the housekeeper, and to remind Steve Gascoyne of that she'd wear her office-girl blouse and the black skirt.
As she laid it out on the bed she tried not to remember what had happened last night when she'd worn that blouse. The memory very nearly unnerved her, and quickly she departed for the bathroom.
WHEN she came back to her room the wall lamp was on and Steve was there, rough-looking, 'almost a stranger in his checked shirt and tight cord pants Ellis stood stock still in the doorway, clutching together the folds of her dressing gown that she'd belted carelessly in her hurry to get back to her room and dress.
`What's this in aid of ?' he demanded; his eyes glittering.
As he was standing over the clothes on the bed, she couldn't pretend not to know what he was talking about.
`It's what I'm going to wear to dinner,' she said, her voice cold but her cheeks hot.- The wardrobe door was open, and she knew she hadn't left it like that, so he must have been looking over her clothes, and as she came into the room he moved towards it.
`You've got a whole closet full of finery. Will you find something more suitable for dinner, or shall I?' He pulled a long-skirted green and ivory muslin dress free of its hanger and tossed it on to the bed. 'How about that thing? It will match your ring.'
`What ring?' she said, freezing.
`This ring,' he said, and took the box from his pocket.
Ellis stepped back a pace. 'I'm your housekeeper, Mr
Gascoyne, in case you've forgotten, and I—I'll wear
what I please. I'll be putting on that big apron I found
hanging in the pantry when I go downstairs, anyhow.'
`Oh no, you won't. Leanne will be in the kitchen
tonight.' He crossed the room to slam the door shut,
then came to face her, his eyes hard as they looked down into hers. 'I told you when I left you this afternoon that Leanne would get the dinner, and I meant it. What have you been doing? Taking charge while I've been way? And exactly what did you tell my sister-in-law?'
`What about?' she prevaricated, shivering inwardly.
`What do you think?' He was no more than fifteen inches away from her and he took her roughly by the arm as if he wanted to shake her. She could feel her gown slipping and she clutched at it anxiously, her heart hammering. 'About us, of course. About you and me.'