The Goldminer's Sister

by Alison Stuart

  Annie placed an arm around her daughter, drawing her against her. Charlie laid her head against her mother, her shoulders shaking.

  ‘What’s to be done now?’ Annie demanded. ‘She ain’t goin’ back to that bloody school, not while that cow is in charge.’

  ‘I’ve lost my position, Mrs O’Reilly,’ Eliza said. ‘Even if she does go back, I can’t protect her.’

  The anger leached from Annie’s face. ‘The bitch fired you?’

  ‘She did, but only after I tossed the strap on the fire,’ Eliza said, glad that she’d had that satisfaction.

  ‘That doesn’t sound fair,’ Annie said. ‘But that’s life isn’t it? You can go back to your respectable little town and tell Mrs Burrell I’ll return the clothes she gave Charlie.’

  Charlie’s lip wobbled. ‘The pinny got a bit torn but Ma says she can mend it good as new.’

  Eliza shook her head. ‘No, the clothes are yours to keep, Charlie. I will make this right for you.’

  Annie snorted. ‘You can sing to the wind if you like, Miss Penrose, but nothin’s goin’ to make this right. I’m not lettin’ me girl anywhere near that school again.’ She looked from Eliza to Alec. ‘I know you both meant well, but the likes of us, Charlie and me, this is the hand we’ve been dealt. We make the best of it as we can. Besides, I’m going to need ’er ’elp soon. No, you tell ’em at that school that they can sleep easy in their beds, Charlie O’Reilly won’t be comin’ back.’ She put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. ‘Inside, now.’

  Charlie obeyed her mother but not before giving Eliza a look of such despair that her heart tore.

  As Alec helped Eliza into the saddle, he said, ‘And just how do you think you are you going to make this right?’

  Eliza shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’ She managed a smile and curled her fingers around his. ‘Thank you for being a friend today, Alec. I needed one.’

  ‘We all need friends,’ he said and his fingers tightened on hers.

  She huffed out a breath. ‘I have no employment now so maybe I can have a look at Will’s plans?’

  Alec nodded. ‘Where do you want to meet?’

  Eliza thought about that. Somewhere neutral that would not attract too much attention. ‘Can we meet at Netty Burrell’s tonight at nine?’

  Alec nodded and swung himself into the saddle and they rode back to town in silence.

  Eighteen

  Eliza had read accounts of the witch trials of the seventeenth century—a woman hauled into a room full of men and forced to recite the Lord’s Prayer to save herself from hanging. Under such pressure most failed. No one had asked Eliza to recite the Lord’s Prayer but the wrath of Maiden’s Creek had descended on her.

  While Alec returned the horses, she had paid a call on Netty to reassure her that Charlie was with her mother and to see if Netty minded her parlour being used as a rendezvous. As she had expected, Netty seemed delighted to be involved in such a meeting. On her return to her uncle’s house, however, Eliza found the entire Board of Advice and Flora Donald assembled in the parlour. She had never felt quite so alone.

  Charles Cowper had evidently been summoned and he came to stand by her side. Given everything she had come to know about him, he seemed an odd ally, but she would take whatever support that was offered.

  ‘Well?’ Angus Mackie roared at her. ‘Your little protégé attacked my daughter and you have the temerity to prevent Miss Donald chastising the child?’

  Eliza hadn’t been aware of holding her breath and now she let it out in a rush. ‘There is chastisement and there is torture, Mr Mackie, and Charlotte O’Reilly did not deserve either.’

  Russell raised a hand. ‘That’s enough, Mackie. Your Mavis is unhurt. Childhood disputes happen. What we cannot condone, Miss Penrose, is your wilful undermining of Miss Donald’s position as head teacher.’

  ‘And I do not condone the punishment of a child who has done no wrong,’ Eliza said, ‘and neither can I tolerate a teacher who beats a child so hard with a leather strap that her hand is so bruised she cannot move her fingers.’

  Russell turned to Flora Donald. ‘Miss Donald? What strap did you use?’

  ‘I believe the Scots call it a tawse, Mr Russell,’ Eliza said.

  ‘I don’t recall the board approving use of such a thing, Miss Donald?’

  Flora’s chin came up. ‘I felt the situation demanded stronger chastisement than the cane. The good Lord knows the cane has not mended Miss O’Reilly’s wayward behaviour in the past. The tawse is commonly used in schools in Scotland to no ill effect. I gave her only two lashes across the palm of her hand before Miss Penrose saw fit to interfere. They were not hard.’

  ‘Not hard? I wouldn’t be surprised if she hasn’t sustained permanent damage,’ Eliza said.

  ‘Perhaps the doctor should attend the child,’ Charles Cowper spoke for the first time, ‘and give his opinion on the severity of the punishment?’

  Eliza cast her uncle a grateful glance. ‘I think that would be an excellent idea.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ Flora Donald said. ‘The child is a malingerer.’

  ‘And it doesn’t change the fact that Charlotte O’Reilly does not belong in the company of decent, God-fearing children,’ Angus Mackie said.

  ‘Who see fit to tell her that her mother is a whore?’ Eliza said. ‘Do you think Charlotte attacked your Mavis unprovoked?’

  Mackie blinked behind his glasses. ‘Mavis would never repeat such a thing.’

  ‘Children repeat what they hear adults saying,’ Eliza said. ‘Charlie can no more be held responsible for her mother than any of your own children can for you, Mr Mackie.’

  Mackie bristled. ‘I would never—’

  ‘Whatever the reason the quarrel occurred,’ Russell said, ‘I think we are agreed that it is probably in Charlotte’s best interest that she be suspended from school for the remainder of this term, and, unfortunately—much as it grieves us, Miss Penrose—we must concur with the recommendation from Miss Donald and terminate your employment.’

  Eliza had been expecting this outcome but it still hit her like a physical blow.

  Russell glanced at his watch. ‘This incident has already taken up too much time. Miss Donald, please return to your duties. We have received several promising applications for the position of head teacher and expect an appointment will be made soon. Gentlemen?’

  The Board of Advice, accompanied by Flora Donald, left the room. At the door, Flora turned and looked at Eliza with such triumph that a shiver ran down Eliza’s spine.

  Alone with her uncle, she sank onto a chair beside the fire, her head in her hands. She heard the clink of glass before his shadow fell across her. She looked up and he handed her a drink.

  ‘Brandy,’ he said.

  Eliza rarely drank spirits but she took the glass and drained it in one hit. The liquid burned her gullet but it helped to still her anger.

  Cowper sat across from her, nursing his glass. ‘I don’t know what you did to earn such antipathy from Flora Donald,’ he said, ‘but I suspect she’s been looking for an excuse to get rid of you since the day you arrived.’

  ‘She frightened me today, Uncle,’ she said. ‘The way she hit Charlie. It was like she wanted to kill her.’

  Cowper took a sip of his brandy. ‘What did Mavis Mackie say to the child?’

  Eliza repeated what Bert had told her.

  ‘Good God,’ Cowper said. ‘Where would she have heard a thing like that? Not at the Mackies’ dining room table, I wager.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. What does matter is Charlie is being punished twice. Firstly by a beating she did not deserve and secondly by being denied her right to education.’

  ‘You’re an idealist, Eliza,’ Cowper said. ‘You can’t save every underprivileged child in the world.’

  ‘But she has so much potential,’ Eliza said.

  ‘I think, my dear, you need to think of yourself.’

  Eliza nodded. ‘I needed that position.’

&
nbsp; ‘Ah.’ Cowper set his glass down, fished in his jacket pocket and pulled out a letter. ‘This came this morning. I took the liberty of making enquiries of an acquaintance in Melbourne. His widowed sister has recently established an academy for young ladies and is seeking suitable teaching staff. I was happy to recommend you.’

  ‘You did this without consulting me?’

  Cowper shrugged. ‘You knew the position at the Maiden’s Creek School was temporary and, as you frequently remind me, you wish to make your way in this world as an independent woman.’

  Eliza took the envelope, surprised to see it was unopened and addressed to her.

  ‘My dear Miss Penrose,’ she read.

  I have today received a recommendation that has come through my brother, commending your good self to me for a position in my newly established school. I believe you have a particular proficiency in mathematics and I am desperate for an experienced teacher of that subject. The school is situated in a large, pleasant house in East Melbourne and the salary of forty pounds per annum would include board and lodging. I write in the hope that you will come to Melbourne and meet with me, with a view to making an immediate start. Please advise by return of mail.

  I wait in expectation of a positive response.

  Yours most sincerely,

  Edwina Wallace.

  Eliza set the letter down and looked at her uncle.

  ‘Well?’ he enquired.

  ‘I did not ask for your help,’ she began. But even as she said the words, she saw a way to get to Melbourne and make the enquiries with Will’s lawyer without attracting any suspicion. She looked at the letter and sighed. ‘But I will write to Miss Wallace and arrange a meeting with her.’

  Cowper clapped his hands together. ‘Excellent. I am most relieved. Now, if you are sensible, you will leave as soon as possible. The roads at this time of year make the journey somewhat hazardous but it hasn’t rained for a few days and you should get through to Shady Creek without a problem.’

  In her cold bedroom, Eliza unlocked her writing box and looked at the neat bundle of correspondence between herself and her brother. It would be so easy to walk away from Maiden’s Creek but she still owed it to Will to resolve the issues of his death and the situation with the Shenandoah Mine. No, she would not abandon her brother, but the excuse of a trip to Melbourne was a godsend.

  She heard muffled voices in the hall and the slam of the front door as Cowper returned to the mine. Despite everything she was coming to learn about him, he could still show her kindness, still be an ally when the world raged against her. She closed her eyes, not wanting to even begin thinking the worst of him.

  She glanced at her watch. There was still an hour until her rendezvous with Alec McLeod, which she had every intention of keeping. They needed to make a plan.

  She drew out a clean sheet of writing paper and began a reply to Mrs Wallace.

  Alec glanced up at the mantelpiece and sighed. He missed the familiar clock, which would need the attention of a skilled craftsman to restore and he lacked the funds for such a frivolous expense. He checked his watch instead and, shortly before nine, he went to his bedroom to retrieve the plans.

  When he emerged he found Ian standing with his arms crossed in front of the door.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘I am going to show Eliza—Miss Penrose—the plans and the figures for the two mines.’

  ‘I’m coming with you.’

  ‘No. I don’t want you involved.’

  ‘I am.’

  Alec shrugged. Arguing with Ian was pointless.

  A light shone in the residence at the back of the dressmaker’s shop and Netty answered the door, admitting the men into the parlour. Eliza rose from her seat beside the fire, her eyes widening at the sight of Ian.

  Alec glanced at his brother. ‘He insisted. He knows the whole story and can explain the figures better than I.’ He looked around the room. ‘Is Amos here?’

  Netty shook her head. ‘No, he’s taken the coach down to Shady Creek. First time in a week.’

  She checked the door was locked and the curtains pulled tight and busied herself making tea as Alec pulled Will Penrose’s plans from his bag. Eliza let out a hiss of breath as she set the plans on the table. She leaned over them, running her finger down the calculations.

  ‘A fatal flaw …’ she whispered to herself.

  Alec drank the tea Netty gave him without tasting it, his breath tightly held.

  Eliza looked up and shook her head. ‘I can’t see where the problem lies.’

  ‘I agree. I’ve been looking at it for weeks,’ Alec said.

  Eliza sat and ran a hand over her eyes.

  ‘Are you all right?’

  She nodded. ‘Just tired. I had to face the Spanish Inquisition after I left you. I am well and truly dismissed from my position at the school.’

  The injustice of her situation caused anger to bubble up in Alec. ‘The business with Charlie?’

  ‘Yes. But I’m not sorry. I would do it again in a heartbeat.’

  ‘What will you do?’ Netty asked.

  Eliza shook her head. ‘My interfering uncle has secured me an interview for a position in Melbourne.’

  A wave of disappointment washed over Alec. ‘You’ll leave Maiden’s Creek?’

  Their eyes met. ‘I have no intention of leaving while the question of my brother’s death remains unresolved, but I now have the perfect excuse to take these plans to Melbourne and secure them with Will’s lawyer. I also have some questions for him over the will, and it would be good if I could find Sissy.’

  ‘When will you leave?’ Alec asked.

  ‘As soon as possible,’ she said. ‘Today is Thursday. If I could be in Melbourne by Monday … but Amos won’t be taking the coach back across for a few days—’

  ‘I can hire the horses and take you across,’ Alec said. ‘But it will have to be Saturday.’

  ‘By yourself? It would hardly be proper,’ Netty said.

  Eliza turned to her. ‘What’s improper about having an escort take me across the mountains? Besides, I don’t really care whether the matrons of Maiden’s Creek think it proper or not. My uncle wants me gone from this town so I doubt he will raise an objection.’

  Ian nudged his brother. ‘Show her the ledger entries.’

  ‘You should probably take these as well.’ Alec unfolded the neat pages. ‘Every mine has to complete a monthly return to the mine inspector,’ he said. ‘Quartz crushed, yield of gold per ton …’

  ‘This supports my uncle’s claim that the Shenandoah Mine is failing,’ Eliza said, tracing the figures with her finger.

  ‘Yes, but look at Maiden’s Creek,’ Alec said.

  ‘It’s improving markedly.’ She looked at Alec. ‘You’re the mine superintendent. Does this support your understanding about how the mine is doing?’

  He shook his head. ‘Maiden’s Creek is starting to turn a decent yield but nowhere near this successful,’ he said. ‘It’s about the value of the shareholdings. The higher the yield, the greater the value of the shares.’

  ‘And vice versa. So Will’s shares that my uncle now owns are losing value by the day.’

  ‘As are Caleb’s and Adelaide’s,’ Netty said. She looked at the table and added in a quiet voice, ‘And mine.’

  Eliza laid her hand on the other woman’s. ‘You have shares in the Shenandoah?’

  Netty nodded. ‘It was a wedding present to Amos and me from Caleb and Adelaide. As I understand it, Caleb has fifty per cent of the shares, Adelaide twenty per cent, Amos and I, five per cent, and Will had the remaining twenty-five per cent. If they’re worthless …’

  Alec leaned forward. ‘If Cowper now owns twenty-five per cent of the mine, another five per cent would give him a substantial holding, second only to Caleb Hunt’s. Has anyone approached you about buying them?’

  Netty stood up and took down a wooden box from the mantelpiece. She removed an envelope from it, passing the letter to Eliza, w
ho unfolded it, scanned the contents and passed it to Alec. The letterhead proclaimed it came from a firm of solicitors in Melbourne who advised they were acting for an anonymous client who was keen to invest in the Gippsland goldfields and would buy the Burrells’ shares in the Shenandoah Mine situated at Pretty Sally for two pounds a share.

  ‘They were worth five pounds when we got married,’ Netty said.

  Ian took the letter from Alec. ‘It’s from Cowper’s lawyers.’

  Eliza shook her head. ‘I am still struggling to believe my uncle would be so—so calculating and heartless.’

  Netty’s mouth tightened. ‘One thing I’ve learned after my years out here is that gold is a fever, just like they say. It can change a man.’

  Alec nodded. ‘He has a ruthless streak. I’ve seen it. Put everything together, Eliza, and there is no other conclusion to reach.’

  ‘Then there is Will’s death—’ Eliza said quietly. ‘It all comes back to that.’

  ‘I have never believed Will would leave his shares in the mine to Cowper,’ Netty said. ‘The two hadn’t spoken in months and, whatever they were worth, it was still all he had. He would never have cut you out of his will.’

  ‘Alec?’ Ian broke the silence.

  Alec looked at his brother and realised they had been speaking too fast for him to follow. He recapped the conversation.

  ‘If the will was forged, it should be easy enough to prove,’ Ian said. ‘Miss Penrose, I suggest you take some evidence of your brother’s handwriting and his signature with you when you visit the lawyer.’

  ‘Good idea,’ Alec agreed.

  Eliza picked up the solicitor’s letter. ‘Can I borrow this?’

  Netty nodded. ‘Of course. I’ve no intention of replying to it. Amos and I believed in Will and he believed in the Shenandoah.’

  Eliza’s lips tightened. ‘Netty, when are the Hunts expected to return?’

  ‘The last letter I had from Adelaide indicated they would be sailing from San Francisco toward the end of the year.’

  Eliza grimaced. ‘That gives my uncle plenty of time to run Shenandoah down to nothing.’ She slipped the letter back into its envelope. ‘He can’t have been expecting me to turn up. While I was thousands of miles away he could have carried his plan out with impunity, but now I’m here and he has to look at me every morning over breakfast, asking awkward questions. The quicker I can get to Melbourne, the better.’ She rose to her feet. ‘It’s getting late. Thank you all.’