Beyond The Blue Mountains - Plaidy Jean (читать книги бесплатно полностью без регистрации сокращений .txt) 📗

She was trembling with fear. What would he say… this puritan? What would he do now? Did she really know him very well? Could she be sure of his reactions? She was terrified that he would not come. All day she had rehearsed her speeches.

Her heart felt as if it had leaped into her throat when she heard his footsteps on the stairs. She opened the door, and she was in his arms.

They would make love, and then he would very tenderly tell her that he was a monster and that he must think of some plan which would help them both. But before he could talk in that way she said: “Gunnar. I am frightened, terribly frightened!”

“Why?” he said.

“What has happened?”

“Can you not guess?”

He was silent, but she knew by the hammer strokes of his heartbeats that he was deeply affected. So much depended on the way he felt about it whether his joy would overcome his conventions.

She released herself from his embrace and sat up; she drew her knees up to her chin and put her arms round them; her bait fell about her face. She was aware of her own beauty; she could see herself in the mirror; she could see him too.

“It is a strangeness that has come over me. Gunnar. I cannot help but be happy… frightened as I am!”

He got up; he put his arm round ‘her.

“Carolan …” he said brokenly.

“Carolan … I .. have done this… I…”

“It is my concern as much as yours, Gunnar dear. I will not have you take all the blame.”

He worshipped her; she could see it in his eyes. He could forget the difficulties in his contemplation of die miracle of childbirth! His child, his and Carolan’s!

He said falteringly: “My dear… my very dear…”

She turned and kissed him on the lips with a quiet confidence.

She said: “Life has always been difficult for me, darling. You must not be disturbed by this.”

“My … dearest, everything must be done. I am bewildered. Your child, Carolan … and mine! We must get you away from here. But where? Where can I send you? You must not go out of Sydney. It would not be safe…”

She put her arms round his neck then; she was filled with triumph. Her safety! The safety of the baby! That was what concerned him; not the safety of his reputation. She had not been mistaken in him. He was the strong man. the idealist, the master. Crazy ideas began to whirl round and round in her head; wicked ideas. She was so excited that she could scarcely play the part she had set herself to play.

“Gunnar, I have thought of a plan. You shall not be worried at all. I would not have the most wonderful experience of my life spoiled in the smallest way.”

“You are wonderful. Carolan. There is no one like you. So brave… so sensible… so… everything that I could desire in my wife!”

She buried her face in her hands; hot colour had flooded it;

she thought for a moment that he had read her wicked thoughts.

She said coldly, and her voice was muffled coming to him through her fingers: “There is a man who would gladly marry me. His name is Tom Blake. He is a man who has come here to breed sheep. He was taken with me, and I know he wishes to marry me.”

She felt him to be in the grip of cold horror.

“Carolan!”

“Do not look at me,” she cried.

“How do you think I can bear it!”

“I thought you loved me,” he said.

“Ah!” Her eyes flashed as she raised her head.

“You say that, you say it coldly! You thought I loved you! You had good reason to think so, had you not? I loved you … I did not think of the consequences to myself, did I? You know that. You know that I was virtuous before I fell so much in love that I… I…”

That was enough. He was embracing her, murmuring endearments. Did she not know that the thought of her marriage to someone else was unbearable to him? That was why he had said cruel things. But if it was unbearable to him, how much more so was it to her who would have to live it!

“Dearest, do not think of this marriage!”

“But I must, Gunnar, I must! How can I help it? This child of mine, it must have a father. Oh, I know it has … the dearest, best father in the world… but how can I tell the world that you are its father! Gunnar, you do not understand this. To you it is just a vague child. To me it is already living. I am its mother. Gunnar, I tell you this now, and I mean it as I never meant anything else in my life I will not allow my child to be born nameless into a world which takes count of these things. I am wild; I am rebellious. I came to you without thought of what I might do to myself, what hardship I might suffer. I am not sorry I am to have your child; I am glad, gloriously glad! You wanted children, you said. So do I. Madly! Recklessly! That is how I want this child. It means so much to me that I will marry a man I do not love, in order to give it a name.” She watched him in the mirror.

“My child must have a name, Gunnar, no matter what its mother suffers to get it!”

He was heartbroken, crazy with the fear of losing her… and they were both thinking of the woman who lay below.

“Carolan, Carolan, if only it were possible .. if only I could make you my wife …”

“Gunnar, my dearest, you are talking foolishly. You talk of making a convict your wife!”

“If they had sent you over for life even, I would have found a means of marrying you… if only …”

“If only… what Gunnar?”

“There is only one thing that stops our marrying. What else could there be but that I am married already!”

“Oh … were it but possible! But think of your position here in the town, Gunnar. Gunnar Masterman marries a convict. It would ruin you. Why, even were it possible, I would not accept such sacrifice.”

He pulled her down, so that they lay side by side. He said, kissing her fiercely: “Do you think that my position here in the town means anything beside us? Do you think that I would not get to any position I wanted, whatever the handicap?”

“You would, darling. You would! You would do anything, you are so wonderful. Anything you want you could do … Nothing would ever stand in the way… of the things you wanted… you only have to want them badly enough.”

He kissed her again, holding her fast to him. She knew he was thinking that never, never should she go to Tom Blake. She knew that he was thinking of their life together Mr. and Mrs. Masterman of Sydney. No more creeping up the stairs. No more of that furtiveness which he hated. Nothing but the indulgence in that love which had become necessary to him, nothing but growing prosperous, procreating children, which was what the Prayer Book said marriage was for. She let him go on dreaming sensuously for some time before she mentioned the woman downstairs.

Then she said: “Life is ironical. She who could have had a child, would not. Oh, Gunnar, is it not cruel. To think of her… your wife… and not… and not…” She had spoken softly, and he was still in the dream. She said again: “I would not do what she did, Gunnar. Even I, in my position, would not do that! I think it is little short of murder…”

“Murder!” he said, aghast.

“You were not listening. Never mind. I was talking rubbish.”

But he wanted to know.

The baby,” she said, ‘yours and your wife’s.”

There has never been a baby.”

“I mean the one… the one that wasn’t born. Oh… I should not have reminded you. How stupid of me!”

“Where did you hear such a tale, Carolan?”

“It was she who told me. Really, Gunnar, I must say no more … No, no, please do not press me. It was just that it made me feel bitter. She … who is your wife … and deliberately …. Oh, but I will say no more.”

“You must tell me,” he said.

“I know nothing of this.”

“Oh, what have I done! She told me … but it was when she was under the influence of that stuff… she did not mean to tell perhaps… Oh. how stupid I ami Please, Gunnar, do not ask me more.”

“I do ask you, Carolan.” She sensed his growing hatred of the woman who stood between him and his dreams.