‘It’s okay. You were worried. I understand that my being there was dangerous for you. Particularly today. They aren’t like most of the bushrangers I’ve met so far. Most of them respect you, admire you even. McAuley sees you as a challenge, as competition.’
‘Always has,’ he said. ‘Even when we ran together for a month or so, he would do his best to undermine me. He knew I hated violence, that I’d stand up for the women he tried to assault and he played on it.’
‘You ran with him?’
‘That was in the early days.’
‘You never told me how you got started.’
‘I didn’t?’ he asked, running his fingers up and down her bare back. ‘I was gold mining at Ballarat. It was hot, backbreaking work and, like many others who’d come looking for their easy payday, I’d found bugger all gold. It was easier to steal it from others. After all, I was a thief from way back. What did I know about working hard for a living?’
He stared at the ceiling, a gentle smile on his handsome features, lost in memories.
‘One night I met a man in the Eureka Hotel, and after a few drinks he let it slip that he was part of the infamous Black Douglas gang. A group of up to sixteen men it was rumoured, who terrorised the roads between Melbourne and Bendigo. I listened to his stories, asking questions and taking it all in like an avid student at lessons. Not that I’d ever been an avid student. But the drunker he got, the more he talked. I paid attention and a few days later, on the Ballarat to Melbourne Road, Bobby and I robbed our first carriage.’
‘How old were you?’
‘Nineteen.’
‘Nineteen?’ Pru exclaimed. ‘You were barely older than a child.’
‘You’re not much older than that now.’ He raised his eyebrows suggestively. ‘And think of what you’ve done and with an old man of twenty-eight. Nineteen is not so young.’
‘It must have been a hard life,’ she mused, thinking of him as a teenaged boy trying to make his way in the world. ‘So why set up the transport company? Was it just a convenient front for the robbery?’
‘Not completely,’ Jack denied. ‘I saw a demand to compete with the Cobb and Co. It made sense. I had the idea, and I had some money saved. But I didn’t have the brains to put it all together. I’d done some dealings with Alfred Jones. He’d fenced a few items for me now and then, and we talked about the possibilities of a legit business. He’d run the business and feed me opportunities for a cut of the takings. He was the brains. I was just the money.’
‘You had the ambition and the acumen to get it all set up in the first place, and now the intelligence to continue to run both sides of the business. A man who robs his own transport company. It’s genius really.’
‘Genius!’ he repeated, laughing uproariously. ‘I’ve never been called that before. Genius you say?’
She pulled at his chest hair a little harder than was necessary. ‘Don’t let it go to your head. If you get caught, it would be both your livelihoods that disappear.’
He shrugged. ‘It wouldn’t much matter since I would be languishing in Pentridge for twenty to life.’
‘Oh Lord, don’t say that.’ She rolled away from him. She’d never seriously considered the consequences of his illegal actions: the idea that he might go to prison. It lit a spark of fear within her.
‘You don’t need the money from bushranging, so why do you still do it?’
He lifted up on one elbow and met her eyes. ‘You’ve been there, you’ve seen it. Why do you think I still do it?’
‘The thrill?’
He nodded. ‘Because I can. Because even though I own the business, I’m just a brainless bushranger.’
‘Stop saying that, Jack,’ she scolded, lifting a hand to feather through his hair. ‘It’s not true. You are smart and resourceful. You can be anything you want to be if you put your mind to it.’
‘I thought you enjoyed what I do,’ he asked, suddenly serious. ‘It used to excite you.’
‘It did, it does,’ she told him. ‘I just wonder how many lives you have, Jack. What happens if you get caught? What happens to you? What happens to me?’
Pushing up to sitting, he leaned back against the headboard. ‘I said when we first got together, that you wouldn’t change me.’
The distance he’d put between them again was telling. He’d said that once before, when he was drunk. She wouldn’t change him. She wondered if he remembered. She wondered if he realised it was his armour whenever she suggested he try and better himself in some way. Moving up onto her knees she lay her hands against his cheeks.
‘I’m not trying to change you, Jack. I will stick by you no matter what you do for a living. I just want you to know that I think you are so much more than you let yourself believe.’
Leaning forward, she kissed him. His mouth remained tight. She’d upset him. She hadn’t meant to. It was a sore topic, she realised. It was easy to forget how sensitive he could be sometimes. He’d been brought up in a boys’ workhouse, with limited schooling, no doubt. He’d turned to stealing to survive. She had no right to lecture him, considering the man he’d made of himself despite it all. But the legitimate transport business had her clever brain wondering. It was only a front, but what if they could make it into a seriously lucrative venture? Jack could give up bushranging and she wouldn’t have to worry about him not coming home at the end of the day. It was something to think about. Later. Determined to change the subject, she kept kissing him until he relaxed again and his hands moved to caress her bare back.
All coherent thought left her mind when Jack rolled her over and positioned himself between her thighs.
‘I’m going to explore every soft, warm, delicious corner of your body.’
She smiled up at him. The tired, contented smile of a woman—a wife—completely satisfied by her husband, the man she loved. And she did love him. It had been a marriage of convenience to begin with, but she had tripped quickly into love with Jack. It had surprised her just how quickly and how deeply. And he loved her too. And as he made love to her, and took her to heights of pleasure she’d never thought possible, she heard the morning song of birds outside the window greeting the day.
***
Leaving the transport office, and Alfred with a nice silver dinner service, Jack stepped out into the twilight. And the first person he saw was Pru.
She was just stepping down from the dray and he rushed forward to help her.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Oh, Jack, it’s you.’
‘Who else did you think was grabbing you about the waist?’ he snapped.
‘Never can tell when a girl might get lucky,’ she tossed back saucily.
‘What do you think you’re doing travelling the roads alone?’
‘Well, I thought I’d come into town and meet my lovely husband for dinner,’ she shot back, her happy smile replaced by an exasperated glower. ‘If you see him, can you tell him I’m looking for him.’
‘What?’
‘Why are you in such foul mood?’
‘Sorry,’ Jack said, calming down a little. He probably was overreacting. ‘I just worry about you being alone out on the highway.’
‘But the most dangerous man on the highway is you,’ she said, her smile returning as she leaned forward to kiss his nose. ‘So I have nothing to worry about, do I?’
‘Still, I would prefer that if you are going to ride alone that you take this,’ he handed her a small pearl-handled pistol.
‘I thought you said I wasn’t to have a gun.’
‘I’ll be teaching you how to use it later. But for now, just don’t shoot yourself in the foot, or me in my arse.’
‘And what elegant lady did you steal that from?’ she asked with one eyebrow raised.
He rolled his eyes. ‘That doesn’t matter. Just take it, put it in your purse.’
She did as he told. ‘So. Dinner? I haven’t met many of your friends.’
‘There’s a reason for that.’
‘You’d be surprised,’ he mumbled. But her pleading expression could not be denied. ‘Ah, fine. We’ll go to The Bath Hotel.’
There were hundreds of hotels and taprooms in Ballarat to choose from. Some respectable, some not so respectable, and all too many were downright seedy and dangerous. He wasn’t about to take her into the Duchess of Kent where he often used to drink with the lads and several other less reputable gentlemen—and ladies—of his acquaintance.
‘The Bath does a nice dinner and the clientele is a little more palatable as well.’
She hooked her arm through his. ‘Lead on, Mr Fairweather.’
‘Very well, Mrs Fairweather.’
***
Entering The Bath Hotel, they discovered it would be a one-hour wait for a table for dinner.
‘We’ll wait in the front bar,’ Pru told the dining room hostess.
‘Ah, no,’ Jack denied as she headed for the front bar. ‘The Salon, I think.’
Pru thought Jack was acting very oddly, but when she saw Bobby walking through the glass swinging doors into the front bar she took her chance. ‘Oh look, there’s Bobby. Who’s the girl he’s with? Is that his lady friend?’
‘Katie,’ Jack agreed. ‘And he’s not really made a proper move on her yet.’
‘How long has he been in love with her?’
‘About a year.’
‘A year!?’ she was gobsmacked. ‘Oh, he needs my help.’ And with that she took Jack’s hand and dragged him, against his will, into the front bar.
Standing just inside the door, she gazed around. Her eyes watered from the haze of tobacco smoke that hung from the ceiling like a grey mist. She’d never seen inside a real front bar before. Her grandmother would never have allowed it. Tearooms were about as daring a venture as her grandmother would permit.
Men in mining garb of corduroy pants and blue chambray shirts mixed at the long walnut bar with gentlemen in brown and blue suits and waistcoats. Only a few women were present, several of them wearing dresses cut low enough in front to show plenty of milky white bosom. Working ladies, she assumed. She spotted Bobby and left Jack to cross the room.
‘Bobby.’
He couldn’t have looked more surprised as she leaned forward to kiss his cheek. She loved that he blushed the sweetest shade of crimson.
‘Ah, hello, Prudence … Miss … Mrs Fairweather?’
‘I convinced Jack to come in for a drink before dinner.’ She turned her attentions to the pretty woman beside him. ‘This must be Katie.’
The woman who’d been sizing her up since she’d kissed Bobby held out a hand to Pru. ‘Oh, aye. How do you do?’ Her Scottish accent was like a song. ‘It’s lovely to finally meet the woman who tamed Jack Fairweather.’
‘I’m not sure I’ve tamed him, have I, Jack?’ She laughed, but when she turned back to look at him, he wasn’t there.
Scanning the pub, her eyes finally fell on him. He was trying to remove himself from a woman’s very determined embrace.
Stalking across the room, she stopped in front of them, her eyebrows raised in question.
‘Wait your turn, lovey,’ the woman said.
‘Actually, since he’s my husband, I’d say it’s always my turn, lovey. So if you don’t mind …’
‘Husband?’ the woman snorted out a very unladylike laugh that jiggled the flesh above the bodice of her dress.
Jack carefully extricated himself from the woman to take Pru’s hand, leaving the woman staring open-mouthed between Jack and Pru and their linked hands.
‘You’re married?’ she asked Jack, fire igniting in her eyes. ‘You bastard!’
The slap connected hard and attracted the attention of all patrons, who cheered or jeered before the woman stormed from the pub.
‘Your first wife?’ Pru teased.
‘Very funny.’ He looked so uncomfortable it was almost amusing.
Kissing his offended cheek, she examined the red hand print. ‘I know you had a colourful love life before me, Jack. Should I be forewarned about any of the other ladies in the room?’
He scowled at her, but glanced around the room all the same. ‘No. My face should be safe from further assault for now.’
She couldn’t help but chuckle as they returned to Bobby and Katie.
‘Shannon was unhappy about your recent nuptials, eh, Jack?’ Katie teased.
‘Shannon?’ Pru asked. ‘Was that the woman who slapped Jack, or one of the other four ladies who looked like they wanted to stab me to death as I dragged Jack away?’
‘I wasn’t dragged, I came willingly.’
‘Your fans are legion, my sweet husband,’ Pru continued to mock. ‘I hope I don’t end up with a dinner fork in my throat or arsenic in my meal this evening.’
‘Pru …’ Jack sighed, long and suffering.
Definitely weary of being the object of everyone’s hilarious jokes, Jack steered conversation elsewhere.
‘Not working tonight, Katie?’
‘No, I’ve the night off,’ she replied. ‘The boys at the Duchess of Kent will have to make-do with old Joe McLeary behind the bar this evening. Let’s see how many times he gets his arse pinched.’
‘I don’t like you working there,’ Bobby grumbled.
‘You’ve no say in it, love,’ she returned with a pat to his cheek. ‘Besides, if it’s good enough for the likes of you two to drink there, then it’s good enough for me to work there.’
She turned to Pru. ‘Bobby tells me you’ve been going out on the highway with the lads. They never let me join them on one of their adventures.’
Jack glared at Bobby. ‘You promised not to tell anyone that.’
‘Katie’s not anyone,’ Bobby returned.
‘Thanks so much,’ Katie huffed. ‘Just what every girl likes to hear.’
Bobby’s eyes widened, his face turned red. ‘No, that’s not what I —’
‘Come on, Pru,’ Katie interrupted him. ‘We’ll get you a drink and let these boys alone to wonder what they did wrong. Give me some money, Bobby.’
He did as he was told and Pru followed Katie to the bar.
Pru studied the older woman as she ordered a whiskey for them both. And not cheap whiskey, mind you, but top shelf. A Scottish woman, aged somewhere between herself and Jack she guessed, Katie had thick, black hair that curled in big, natural loops down her back. She had the pale skin of a Scot and the temperament of her heritage, Pru would bet. She was pretty and confident, and strong enough to handle any of the ruffians that graced the Duchess of Kent where she worked the bar.
And Bobby adored her. That was evident in the looks he kept sending across the room. Watching out for her, watching her. It was sweet really. She only hoped Katie had the best of intentions. She was clearly very aware of what Bobby did for money. Was she with him for his money? Or did she actually have a fondness, or perhaps even love, for him?
‘Sláinte,’ Katie toasted and tossed back the drink.
Pru did the same and followed up with a huge inhale of breath as the whiskey burned her throat. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but she thought she might get used to the tasty liquor, slowly.
Katie’s smile fell as she glanced back to where Bobby and Jack had now been joined by Garrett.
‘Ugh, I don’t like that man,’ Katie said, a scowl marring her pretty features.
‘What do you suppose they’re talking about?’
‘Don’t know, but if Garrett’s involved it’ll be nothin’ good. He’s got a mean streak, and a good dose of stupid to go with it. If you want to know what’ll get Jack killed, it’ll be Garrett.’
Pru winced. ‘Katie, please!’ She didn’t like Garrett much either, but to think he was a loose cannon that might get them all in trouble …
She kept her eyes on Jack as he talked with Garrett. Whatever the man was telling him, Jack’s face was a mask. She couldn’t read whether the news was good or b
ad.
Katie ordered them another drink and tossed it down with ease, while Pru chose to sip hers this time. ‘Perhaps you can tell me why men are so stupid that they cannot read signs that are as clear as glass. I don’t know what else I can do to show Bobby I love him and force him to finally make his move on me.’
‘Then don’t wait for him,’ Pru said with a shrug. ‘I proposed to Jack. It seemed to work for me.’
‘Aye? You proposed to him?’ Katie was intrigued. ‘Tell me more about this proposal.’
Pru chuckled. Poor Bobby. He’d wasted so much time.
***
The four of them sat down to dinner together, once Garrett had left to head to Miss Lola’s establishment, and Pru enjoyed Katie and Bobby’s company immensely. She’d missed having another woman to talk with. Not that she’d ever really talked to her gran. But even having the company of women servants had been a pleasure. She hadn’t realised just how much she’d missed the unique conversation of women until now.
As the hour grew late, Jack and Pru said their farewells and were about to leave the hotel when a dark-skinned native man dressed in the blue woollen uniform and cap of the local constabulary pushed through the door at the same time.
‘G’day, Jack.’
The two men smiled and shook hands like old friends.
‘Bandi. It’s been a while. How are you?’
‘Pretty good, eh,’ Bandi nodded and eyed Pru, confusion crossing his features.
‘Oh, Bandi, this is Pru.’
‘Nice to meet you, Mrs,’ Bandi said, tipping his hat. He glanced over their shoulders and lowered his voice. ‘Hey, you better watch yourself, Jack. New sergeant’s looking into the robberies on the highway.’
‘I know,’ Jack said, lowering his voice, too. ‘He’s been asking questions around the office again.’
‘You didn’t tell me that,’ Pru said, concern filling her.
‘Don’t worry, darling,’ Jack said easily. ‘There’s nothing to find.’
Pru studied the native man. It seemed as though he might know Jack’s true identity. But before she could ask, another policeman wandered across the bar towards them. Bandi moved aside as the senior officer stepped up to Jack.
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