Page 82 of The Pearl Sister
It was something about the smell of him – musky, sensuous – that finally alerted her.
‘Good grief! It’syou!’
‘You are right, Mrs Mercer, it is indeedme.My brother asked me to come to see if you were well in his absence. And as I was passing by . . .’
‘For pity’s sake!’ Kitty wrenched her body away from his. ‘Do you take pleasure in your joke? I believed you were Andrew!’
‘And it was very lovely . . .’
‘You should have announced yourself properly. Is it my fault that you look identical?!’ Moved beyond rational thought at his impudence, Kitty slapped him sharply across the face. ‘I . . .’ Then she sank into a chair, horrified at her actions. ‘Forgive me, Drummond, that was totally uncalled for,’ she apologised as she watched him rub his reddening cheek.
‘Well, I’ve had worse, and Iwillforgive you. Although even I don’t believe that Andrew calls you “Mrs Mercer” when he walks through the door, seeking his supper and his wife’s company. But you are of course correct,’ he conceded. ‘I should have announced myself the minute I walked through the door, but – forgive my vanity – I thought that you would know me.’
‘I was hardly expecting you—’
‘Surely Andrew told you that he’d invited me to pay a visit?’
‘Yes, but not so soon after he’d left.’
‘I was already in Darwin when the telegram was sent on to me in December. I decided there was little point in going back to the cattle station, only to return and do as my brother had bidden me. Do you by any chance have any brandy? It sounds odd given the heat, but I actually find myself shivering.’
Kitty saw the red rivulets dripping off him and forming a puddle on the floor. ‘Goodness, forgive me for having you stand there when you are soaked through and probably exhausted. I shall call my maid and have her fill the bathtub for you. Meanwhile, I shall find the brandy. Andrew keeps a bottle for guests somewhere.’
‘You are still teetotal then?’
He gave her a lopsided grin, and despite herself, Kitty smiled. ‘Of course.’ She took a glass and a bottle from a cupboard and did as Drummond had asked. ‘Now, I will get your bath filled.’
‘There is no need to call your maid. Just point me in the direction of the water and tub.’ He tossed the brandy back in one mouthful and then proffered the glass to her to be filled again.
‘Are you hungry?’ she asked him.
‘I’m famished, and will gladly eat any fatted calf you have to hand. But first, I need to get out of these wet clothes.’
Having led Drummond to Andrew’s dressing room and shown him the pitchers with which to fill the tub, she went to the kitchen to put together a tray of bread, cheese and soup left over from lunchtime.
Drummond entered the kitchen twenty minutes later with a towel wrapped round his waist. ‘All the clothes I have with me are filthy. May I borrow something of my brother’s to wear?’
‘Of course, take what you wish.’ Kitty could not help stealing a glance at his bare chest – the sinews taut across it, and the muscles lying beneath the deep tan of his shoulders that spoke of hard manual labour.
He arrived in the drawing room in Andrew’s silk robe and slippers. He ate the soup silently and hungrily, then poured himself further brandy.
‘Did you travel by boat between Darwin and Broome?’ she asked politely.
‘I travelled overland, part of the way on horseback. Then I happened upon the Ghan cameleers as they made camp on the banks of the Ord River. The river was swollen, so they were waiting until the water subsided enough for the camels to be safely hauled across on a line. Poor blighters, they’re not keen on swimming. I continued my journey with them, which was far more entertaining than travelling alone. The stories those cameleers have to tell . . . and all the time in the world to tell them. It took many days to get here.’
‘I have heard that the desert beyond Broome is a dangerous place to be.’
‘It is indeed, but I’d imagine not nearly as deadly as the viper-like tongues of some of your female neighbours. Give me a black’s spear or a snake any day, above the stultifying conversation of the colonial middle-classes.’
‘You make our lives here sound very dull and pedestrian,’ Kitty said irritably. ‘Why do you always wish to patronise me?’
‘Forgive me, Kitty. I understand that everything is relative. The fact that you sit here now, a woman alone and unprotected in a town thousands of miles from civilisation, where murder and rape are commonplace, is a credit to your strength and bravery. Especially with a young child.’
‘I am not unprotected. I have Camira and Fred.’
‘And who might Camira and Fred be?’
‘Fred takes care of the grounds and the horses, and Camira helps me in the house and with Charlie. She has a daughter of her own, of similar age to my son.’
