by Rue Allyn
To think he had before him, naked and vulnerable, a woman of inestimable beauty and unexplored passion. And instead of appreciating her like a rare jewel, he treated her like a common whore. He worked his jaw, angry at his despicable behaviour. The image of her untamed curls around her breast aroused him once more and he shifted, uncomfortable on the saddle. “Well, Radcliffe, you fool, enjoy the picture because the real thing will never be yours again,” he muttered. He recalled the passion his touch ignited, rising in her from some deep untapped well. Until his overpowering need to punish her stamped it out. How does a man apologize for such behaviour? Damn, how had she faced him earlier and even brought herself to speak to him? But she had. She also trusted he would act honourably with the native, Bulanggi. He would certainly try. In all honesty, he could not say whether he was doing it for Bulanggi or for her.
The sun sat low in the sky when he rode down the main street of Sydney Town. He decided his visit to the governor could wait until he ensured Bulanggi was unharmed. As he neared the courthouse, loud, agitated voices reached his ears. This was followed by the unmistakable crack of a rock hitting the side of the building.
His feet had barely touched the ground when he was bombarded by demands of support to “hang the black bastard now.” Fools, the lot of them. To convict a man as guilty based on the colour of his skin. He caught the feral gleam in the eyes of the surrounding men and thought better of voicing his opinion. He would be no help to Bulanggi dead.
He unhooked a bag from his saddle and, taking the stairs in two strides, marched through the door — into the muzzle of a musket.
“Good heavens, Tunbridge. What are you about? That thing could go off,” said William, pushing the barrel aside.
“Oh, it’s you, Mr. Radcliffe,” said the man, relief clear on his face. “I can’t be too careful you see, they want to lynch the black mongrel and I’ve been told to see they don’t. Although it’s as much as he deserves.”
“We don’t know what he deserves, sergeant. Perhaps opinions should be reserved until he gets a chance to speak for himself.”
The sergeant shifted uneasily as realization dawned. William did not necessarily share his views on the prisoner.
“Now I’d like to see the prisoner, if you’d be so good as to unlock the cell.”
The sergeant sucked in air through his teeth. “Well sir, I’m not sure as how that would be in order. The captain said the cell was not to be unlocked for the prisoner’s safety.”
“For God’s sake, sergeant, I’m on my way to see the governor and can’t report on the man’s welfare unless I’ve seen him for myself.” He had only bent the truth a little.
“Ah, for the governor. Why didn’t you say so? Follow me sir.” The sergeant went through a door, down a hall, and stopped outside a small, cramped room with iron bars on the door. Inserting the large key into the lock, he entered the room and viciously kicked the huddled form in the corner. William reached over and gripped the sergeant’s arm. The man paled, grunting with the effort of trying to wrench his arm free.
William’s eyes narrowed as he brought his face inches from the sergeant’s. “If you touch him again, I will not be so kind.”
The sergeant spat on the floor and left the room, rubbing his bruised arm. Bulanggi gazed sightlessly at William, terror preventing recognition. Blood congealed under his nose and his left eye was swollen shut. William squatted on the floor next to him, waiting silently for Bulanggi to stop trembling and focus on his face. After some minutes, Bulanggi seemed to realize William had not come to hurt him and carefully raised his head.
“Masta William,” he whispered. “Why you come?”
William slipped the bag from his shoulder. He retrieved a small container of water and offered it to Bulanggi. The man drank thirstily, nodding in gratitude as he handed the container back.
“Billy came. He told us what happened. I will speak to the governor. You can tell them what happened.”
Bulanggi shook his head. “I black fella. They hang.”
William stood and handed the water container to Bulanggi. “I will go now and see the governor. You keep that,” he nodded at the water container and reached into his bag, handing him some bread and two apples. Bulanggi tried to stand to shake William’s hand but buckled over clutching his stomach, and fell back onto the floor. William placed his hand on Bulanggi’s shoulder and gritted his teeth as he left the cell.
He could not bring himself to even speak to the sergeant as he left the courthouse. Safer this way, for the man in any case. With any luck, he would find the governor before he sat for his evening meal. Otherwise, the discussion would have to wait for the morning.
• • •
The doorman ushered William into the large house where Governor Macquarie stayed on his trips to Sydney.
“William, lad, it’s grand to see ye again. What brings ye in such a fevered hurry to ma door at this hour?” He gestured with an empty glass and, at William’s nod, poured a generous splash of whisky into it.
“It’s the Purnell matter, sir. I need to speak with you urgently if I may.”
“Abominable situation. Utterly unthinkable,” he said shaking his head. “A parent’s greatest fear, but if ye’ve information, speak your piece.”
The governor gestured to a chair and they both sat.
William swirled the amber liquid in his glass as he chose his words. “I have reason to believe the situation is not as the Purnells allege.”
The governor raised one eyebrow and indicated for him to continue.
“My wife has some acquaintance with the prisoner’s wife and the other women at his camp.”
“Mmm, why am I no’ surprised at that? Mrs. Radcliffe lives by her own rules it would seem,” he said, with an amused glint in his eyes.
William sighed. “Yes, I believe you may be right about that. The thing is, sir, the women and one of my workers, Billy, have given us another equally plausible story.”
“The man is to be hanged, William. If ye have proof o’ his innocence ye’d best share it and quickly.”
Excluding no detail, William related the story as Billy had told it. He explained Bulanggi had two children of his own and had been described as a kind and gentle father. In conclusion, he informed the governor of the violence already perpetrated on the prisoner and the probability of more to come.
The governor heaved a loud sigh and shook his head. “We’ll be damned if we hang him and damned if we dinna. If he hangs and he’s innocent, the blacks will take their revenge wherever they can. If he doesna’ hang, guilty or innocent, the Purnells and their supporters will take their own vigilante action and he’ll die anyway.”
“What about the child? She’s old enough to know what happened. Is there some way she can be gently questioned without the parents influence? She’s all we’ve got, sir, there are no more witnesses.”
The governor shrugged. “Charles Purnell states the child has agreed the man touched her where he shouldna.”
“I would like to ask two things of you, sir.”
“Go ahead,William, I canna guarantee you’ll like ma answers though.”
William nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll ask anyway. The prisoner is being mistreated by the sergeant in charge and has already been injured by the soldiers who made the arrest. I would ask that you ensure he is not further harmed unless his guilt is confirmed.”
“Aye, I can certainly do that.”
“The second thing is that you follow through on your policy of equal treatment for all inhabitants of the colony.” Before the governor could respond, William continued. “By that I mean that the man gets a fair trial and you allow me to organize a defence for him.”
“Take care what ye ask of me, William. Ma enemies already gain support in England. A decision like this could tip the balance and end ma governance.”
“It pains me to put you in this position, sir. However, I can but appeal to your sense of justice and will accept whatever decision you make.�
� William sat back in his chair, knowing he had said all he dared to the governor.
Macquarie sighed, rubbing his hand across his cheek. “Let me think on’t lad. I will have an answer for ye come morning. Meanwhile I will ensure the prisoner is safe.” He reached for the decanter and refilled his glass, offering the same to William. “Now if we’re done, how about staying for dinner and we can discuss more pleasant subjects. Your bonnie wife for instance,” he said, smiling.
William thanked him but declined, saying he would return first thing in the morning for the governor’s answer. There was a man versed in matters of law he wanted to visit before nightfall.
• • •
Electra ate her evening meal with Callum and Shelagh, who had come at her invitation to the big house. The lighthearted gaiety of their normal encounters was missing as they explored every option for saving Bulanggi’s life.
They parted reluctantly, knowing any discussion held little relevance until they knew the outcome of William’s visit to the governor. With sleep eluding her, Electra settled on the veranda, wrapped in a large woolen shawl, and gazed up at the sky. It was a clear night and she could see a scatter of stars William had described as the Southern Cross. She felt a sense of displacement at not seeing the Pole Star or the outline of the Bear. Not even the sky was familiar in this land. There was a dim half moon, one side a hazy, jagged line, but bright enough to sit without a lamp.
As she sat in the half dark of the moonlit veranda, Electra knew she had finally run out of distractions to avoid the thorny subject of her relationship with William.
Despite Shelagh’s explanation for William’s conduct, anger still simmered in her blood at his offensive assumptions two nights ago. The gall of him to think she had been the captain’s mistress. And worse, to think it gave him leave to be callous and rough with her. She took a deep breath to settle the churning in her stomach and lifted her eyes to the vast night sky. If she was honest with herself, despite his rough and selfish treatment, William’s touch had not been abhorrent. Quite the opposite.
The memory of his dark blue eyes hungrily devouring her naked body, sent shivers up her spine. She recalled the moment he had urgently ripped off his own clothes. And the sight of his firm, broad shoulders and his nut-brown chest with a patch of soft golden hair glowing in the candle light. The way his body tapered to the slim waist and below it … She felt the heat in her cheeks at the unmistakable evidence of his arousal. She sighed, unable to deny that his determined possession of her and her passionate response was more exciting than anything she could have imagined. In fact, it had been a revelation to find that the touch of a man she cared for bore no resemblance to her uncle’s furtive fumbling.
However, the emotions William stirred in her did not erase the fact that he did not trust or respect her. More importantly, he did not love her. There were just too many obstacles for this ever to be a real marriage and she had no doubt William would agree. When she first accepted his offer of marriage, she had not envisaged the possibility of loving him. For her, it was no longer a marriage of convenience. So how could she stay when he did not feel the same?
It was imperative to establish her innocence so she could return to England. And William’s wealth and reputation would make this possible.
If only things had been different.
Chapter Eleven
The three natives refused to come near the veranda where Electra and the MacDonalds waited. Instead they sat cross-legged, their faces impenetrable, under the yellow wattle tree. No one spoke. Callum paced up and down the veranda and Electra fidgeted with her hair, her eyes fixed on the road to the homestead.
William returned soon after noon.
“We have a chance; a slight one but a chance nonetheless,” he said breathlessly, as he dismounted.
Waruu looked expectantly at Billy who grinned and nodded. She grasped Yaraay’s hand and breathed out slowly.
“Please boss, Bulanggi orright?” asked Billy.
William hesitated but obviously decided they deserved the truth. “He has been beaten but is all right. I saw him for myself. Also, the governor has agreed to protect him from further beatings.”
Billy passed this information on to Waruu. Electra saw the pain cross her face but she only nodded, keeping her eyes downcast.
Then they were all talking. Callum and Shelagh wanting details of the governor’s agreement; Electra asking what they needed to do next, until William held up his hands to stop the cacophony.
“One question at a time. Callum, you asked about the governor’s response?” He sat on the veranda step so both groups could hear him and spoke slowly and clearly so Billy could understand and interpret for the women.
He briefly described his conversation with the governor. When William related his challenge to the governor regarding his policy of equality, Callum slapped his leg and guffawed.
“I canna think of anyone else who’d have the balls to — oomph,” Callum rubbed his leg where Shelagh had kicked him, “Ah, apologies ladies — to call him out on that one, lad.”
“Yes, well it was a risk but luckily it worked. He has agreed to a trial if I can show him a solid defence. Unfortunately, therein lies the problem.”
Electra sighed. “A defence with no witnesses and an innocent white child’s word against a native. She is the key you know. How can we get her to speak up?” She paused. “I wonder — ”
“I do believe our lassie isna’ lettin’ go o’ this one, aye?” said Shelagh, looking questioningly at Electra.
Billy was repeating whatever he could understand to the two women who nodded but did not raise their eyes.
“I believe I might just pay Mrs. Purnell a visit. A neighbourly show of concern after what they have been through. She may even be interested in the fact that her daughter is alive solely due to the actions of the man about to be hanged,” Electra said. “I’ll see if Shi Liang has done any baking to take as a gift.”
Billy, who was reading expressions as much as listening to their words, was confused until William explained what his wife had said. Yaraay looked up and smiled, a twinkle of knowing in her deep brown eyes. Electra winked at her.
William explained he was expecting the lawyer mid-afternoon and wanted to put on paper relevant aspects of the case. Callum and Billy had work to do, as did Shelagh. The two native women agreed they would come whenever possible for news and headed back to their camp.
As William took a step into the house, Electra called to him. “How was Molly?”
“Who?”
“You know, Molly Preston. You said you always visit when in town.”
He looked at her quizzically, a smile playing at the edge of his mouth. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Well, did you?”
“Not this time. There were a few more pressing issues.”
“Oh. Perhaps you’ll call next time then.”
“Yes, perhaps I will.”
Biting her lip, she turned away and inwardly cursed her lack of restraint. How could she have been so transparent with her jealousy? And at a time like this. She held onto the vain hope that he may have missed the nuance behind her questions, but his slight smile told her the truth of it.
“Electra?”
She turned to face him.
He hesitated and took a deep breath before speaking. “I-I’m so dreadfully sorry for the other night. What I did was unforgivable and I do not expect your forgiveness. But I ask for it nonetheless and — er,” he shook his head, “God, that’s it, I suppose.” He didn’t wait for her response and rushed inside as if he had important matters to attend to.
It was a start at least.
• • •
Electra guided her horse toward the small Purnell home. Shelagh explained before she left that Charles Purnell had arrived as a convict fifteen years earlier, served his time and been awarded fifty acres of land near the Parramatta River. Another ten acres had been awarded by the Crown when he took Celia Hodges, also an emancipist
, for his wife. This knowledge allowed Electra to assume she would be welcome in their home.
As she approached the home, a young child playing on the front lawn, skipped into the house and soon appeared back at the door with her mother. Celia Purnell peered suspiciously out at Electra. Straightening her mousy brown hair in a self-conscious gesture, she stepped out onto the doorstep.
Electra slipped off her horse and approached the house. “Mrs. Purnell, I’m Electra Radcliffe. I thought it was time we met and I wanted to express my sympathy for your troubles.”
She blinked owlishly. “Oh, yes — er I had heard Mr. Radcliffe married. I probably should have made a visit myself but I’m — er kept very busy at home, you see. Please come in.”
The small house was sparsely furnished and scrupulously clean. While Celia Purnell scurried off to make tea, Electra turned to look at the child. She had once seen Charles Purnell, a gaunt, bowlegged man. Now after meeting his wife she was surprised that two quite homely parents had produced a child of such beauty.
“My name is Lucinda,” she said circling Electra, “and I’m six years old. You’re very pretty. Do you think I am too?”
Electra raised her eyebrows. “Yes, you certainly are pretty but are you smart as well?” she asked.
“Mama says when I’m this pretty I don’t have to be smart.” She pirouetted, exhibiting her many petticoats under the immaculately starched dress.
“That’s a lovely dress, are you going out somewhere?”
“No, but Mama says it’s important to look nice all the time.” She leant toward Electra to whisper, “I’m not allowed to run about and get dirty, but I sneaked out and went to the river. Mama and Papa were very angry.”
Electra glanced in the direction she had seen the woman disappear and turned back to the child. “I expect you got nice and dirty.”
She giggled. “Oh yes. But not only that, I fell in the river and got very wet as well. I could have drowned and my pretty dress was quite ruined.” She saw the small cakes in Electra’s basket. “I love cakes. Could I have one?”