‘Are these substantiated accounts?’ Rede asked, seemingly surprised by Will’s report. The man didn’t live under a rock. Surely he had heard these accusations before.
‘I have it on good authority,’ Will said, unsure if he should mention the stories came from Miss Wallace. Whether he chose to say she was a miner or a woman would probably not hold much sway with the Commissioner. Regardless, he’d seen for himself how the boy Gregorius had been beaten. And he wasn’t even a miner.
Rede looked thoughtful. ‘I believe you. My understanding is that the police are more often drunk than not, but Inspector Evans has already stated that if he discharged or suspended all the men who were drunk on duty there would be no one left to do the job.’
‘But, sir—’
‘I cannot tell the police inspector how to run his company of officers,’ Rede said, exhaling a frustrated breath. ‘I have no power over him, mores the pity, but I shall have a word with him if you believe his methods to be too harsh.’
‘Thank you, sir. Perhaps the miners will then settle down and calm can be restored once again to Ballarat.’
Rede smiled across at him. ‘You are a gifted negotiator, Lieutenant Marsh. I believe you would be an asset on the battlefield.’
‘I’m afraid my negotiation skills were not so often required in battle, sir.’
The two men had almost made it to the Eureka fields when a soldier on horseback raced towards them.
‘Commissioner Rede, sir,’ the soldier blurted, out of breath. ‘There’s a mob out front of the Eureka Hotel, sir. It began as a simple meeting, but some of the miners have been drinking and it’s getting out of hand. There are police troops there, but they number only ten or so.’
‘The Eureka Hotel?’ Will was filled with dread. After having just taken the side of the diggers, and hoping that Rede would be more lenient in future altercations, he had a horrible feeling the miners in question had just undone all his good work. ‘They’re unhappy about the acquittal of Scobie’s alleged murderers. They’ll go after Bentley, sir.’
‘Still believe the diggers are willing to be reasonable, Lieutenant?’
The Commissioner didn’t wait for Will to respond as he took off after the mounted soldier, leaving behind a cloud of dust kicked up by his horse. Will should have known that the miners wouldn’t just sit back and let the acquittal of Bentley and his friends go unanswered. He’d seen the placards all across the goldfields advertising the meeting today at the Eureka Hotel. The posted notices had read ‘A meeting of the “Committee for the Prosecution of the Investigation into the Death of the late James Scobie”’. He had hoped the gathering would be a peaceful one. But it seemed they’d decided to take the matter of prosecution into their own hands.
With a swift kick to his horse’s sides, he caught up with the Commissioner and they rode quickly towards the Eureka Hotel. There they found Police Inspector Evans with his men, struggling to disperse the angry mob. Will was staggered by the numbers. There had to be a few thousand people filling the street outside the hotel.
Rede turned to the mounted soldier. ‘Race back to camp. Send for reinforcements.’
‘Do you think a show of force is the best option here, sir?’ Will put in. ‘There are far more of them than there are of us.’
‘Look at them,’ Rede tossed back, clearly no longer open to negotiations. ‘They’re baying for Bentley’s blood. We have to put it down before it turns violent. I will try to calm them, Lieutenant, but be prepared to do what is necessary.’
Will wished words would be enough to settle the crowd, but things at the hotel were already well and truly out of control. The huge crowd of men, women and even children hovered out the front of the Eureka. The afternoon heat was stifling, the hot wind kicking up dust and tempers as they chanted for the murderers to be brought out, as they chanted for Bentley.
Anxiously, Will watched as Rede fought his way through the crowd and stood on the veranda of the hotel trying to calm the aggravated mass.
‘Please, gentlemen,’ Rede began, holding his hands up in a defensive motion. ‘This is not the way to get your point across. Petitions have been put forward by your representatives and will be addressed.’
‘Bollocks!’ someone yelled.
‘Bentley’s a murderer!’ another man yelled.
‘He and his men deserve to be hung!’
Cheers of agreement and yells for justice drowned out Rede’s attempts to quell the angering mob.
Will prepared to dismount and step up to help Commissioner Rede when someone threw a bottle at the hotel. The sound of smashing glass was like the starters pistol at a horse race, a signal to the crowd, and all hope of control was lost. Some turned on the police and began pelting eggs—rotten of course, as no one on the goldfields would waste good eggs on the traps or the Commissioner—others began to pull apart the hotel. The door was off in seconds and men, maddened by the heat, the grog and their righteous anger, piled into the hotel. Soon kegs of beer were being rolled out to the cheering diggers. From upstairs, jewellery and clothes were flung from the windows to the waiting crowd below. It was a good old-fashioned mob riot.
Rede had no choice but to get out of the way when rocks began to fly. It seemed the eggs had run out. Hotel windows smashed and Will urged his horse into the crowd to try and break up the mêlée. But as he steered his horse to try to block the entry of the hotel, something hit him hard in the side of the head. Dazed, he lifted his hand to feel the warm sticky blood rushing down his forehead.
Spooked by the noise and the items being thrown down upon them from the second floor of the hotel, Will’s horse bolted. He barely managed to stay seated as it ran panicked away from the raging mob. Racing down the road, the din of the destruction of Bentley’s Eureka Hotel faded as the ringing in Will’s ears increased. He managed to rein in his horse and slow it to a brisk walk. His head pounded and he fought against the dizziness. Finally losing the battle, he slumped forward in the saddle, and darkness enveloped him.
***
Indy hated walking across town to the Gold Commissioner at the government camp to have her gold weighed. Usually she stashed her finds away in a secret hiding place at her mother’s house. But when she was in need of actual shillings, and there wasn’t a game of cards or dice available, she had no choice but to sell some gold. She did her best to ensure no one knew where she was going and what she was doing. Hence the late afternoon walk to the government camp in this fry-an-egg-on-her-head heat, when most sane folk were taking shelter inside the public houses or finding shade wherever they could.
An unholy ruckus could be heard as she reached the road. Curious townsfolk left shops and wandered in the direction of the Eureka Hotel where a huge crowd was assembled. Confused and concerned she began to follow them. But as she broke into a run towards the hotel, a horse bolted out in front of her. It reared a little before pulling up and she held out her arms to slow its forward course.
‘Whoa there,’ she soothed, cautiously moving closer to the man slumped over the horse’s neck. Brushing at the blond hair that had fallen across the soldier’s face, she gasped.
‘Lieutenant?’ She shook his shoulder. ‘Will?’
His eyes opened momentarily and when he lifted his head, she saw the blood oozing down the side of his face.
‘Sweet Mary and Joseph,’ she muttered. She tore a strip of material from her dress and held it to his bleeding head, but she couldn’t get it to stop. It just kept gushing. She needed help and fast.
Unsure of what to do, she surveyed the road ahead. The riot at the hotel was gaining momentum. They couldn’t go that way. Striking upon an idea, she hitched herself up onto the horse behind the Lieutenant, grabbed the reins and with a good kick, they headed off, away from Ballarat.
***
‘Mother!’
Slowing the horse to a stop in front of the little wooden house, Indy slid off its back and called again. ‘Mother!’
‘Indy?’ her mother’s voice came
softly at first as the door opened a little.
Then it was wide open and Mary Wallace was rushing down the front steps, her lantern held high. The darkness had fallen quickly as huge, grey thunderheads rolled in causing the dry heat to turn thick and oppressive.
‘Indy! What’s happened? What are you doing here?’
Her mother’s eyes widened as she took in the horse’s unconscious passenger. ‘Why do you have a soldier? Indy, what have you done?’
‘Why do you always think I’ve done something? He’s wounded.’
Indy reached up to the Lieutenant. ‘Ma, I need help. He’s heavy. I’ll drop him.’
Mary put the lantern down and the two women struggled to pull Will from the horse without letting him fall to the ground. ‘What’s going on? Why did you bring a soldier here?’
‘I’ll explain later, Ma. He’s bleeding. We have to stop the bleeding.’
Finally, they were able to get him down and together they carried him into the house to Indy’s room where they laid him on the bed. Will murmured something incoherent before passing out again.
‘Go see to his horse,’ Mary said, fear and confusion replaced now with single-minded determination.
Indy stood staring at Will, reluctant to leave, but her mother was insistent. ‘He’ll be alright for the five minutes it takes to settle the animal with some water.’
Obeying, she went out to deal with the horse and when she returned Mary had removed Will’s boots and tunic.
‘It’s beginning to rain,’ Indy said, shaking droplets out of her hair. ‘Going to be a rough night.’
‘For him too,’ Mary said pursing her lips. ‘I need help with the rest of his clothes. He’s a heavy weight and totally out of it now, poor lad.’
Not one to be shy, Indy helped her mother to undress him. She’d seen men naked before. You couldn’t help it in the camps. There was always a drunken fool running about in his birthday suit. But seeing Will shirtless, Indy felt her heart rate increase and not from the shock of the evening. She’d stayed relatively calm in the face of his emergency but now …
His chest was muscular and pale, dusted with a few curls of fair hair. It would have been perfection if not for the scars that crisscrossed his torso. Injuries he’d no doubt sustained in the wars he’d seen prior to coming to Australia. Bullet wounds, she guessed, and gnarled, uneven slices in his skin from swords or sabres.
‘This boy doesn’t appear to make a very good soldier,’ Mary said, noting the collections of scars just as Indy had. ‘He’s been wounded many times.’
‘Will he be alright?’ Her eyes were now fixed on the dark patch where his blond hair was matted with dried blood.
‘The bleeding has stopped but I worry about the knock to his head,’ Mary said, securing a bandage around it. ‘He’s been unconscious for how long?’
‘I’m not sure. He was out when I found him.’
‘I’ll have to sit beside him, watch his breathing.’
‘I’ll do it,’ Indy said staring at Will. She could feel her mother’s eyes on her as she halted her medical care momentarily.
‘Indigo,’ Mary spoke, but Indy was transfixed and didn’t look at her. ‘Indy.’ Her mother’s voice was louder this time and Indy finally focused on her. The confusion and concern on her face was evident.
‘I brought him here,’ she said, her determination unwavering. ‘He’s my responsibility.’ She sat down in the chair beside the bed where Will lay motionless. ‘Thank you, Ma. You have done plenty. Go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.’
Mary hesitated, looking anxiously between Indy and the soldier. The only sound was the heavy fall of rain on the roof of the cottage. ‘Very well.’ She stepped to the door. ‘I’ll relieve you in the early morn and I’ll be in to check on you throughout the night, you can be sure of that.’
Indy rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything as her mother left the room.
‘Alone at last,’ she joked to the unconscious Will, but her worry for him ran deep. Deeper than she would have expected. She had known him only a few months, and in that time he had teased her, thrown her down a garbage chute, saved her from a skull bashing by her father, danced with her at the Subscription Ball and seen her swimming naked in the river.
Her heart warmed as she remembered his alarm when he’d found her by the natural spring, bruised after her altercation with the drunken husband. The Lieutenant was an honourable man, and she knew he would have been worried for any woman he’d found in her situation. But when he had touched her, when his fingers had brushed lightly over her cheeks … There’d been something there. She felt it. She’d seen something in his eyes too. She shook herself out of her wayward thoughts. The very last thing she needed was to get involved with a soldier.
She sat by his bed as the hours ticked away, watching the rise and fall of his chest with his deep and even breath. It was hypnotising. And harmonised with the rain that had settled into a steady patter on the roof—it made her eyes droop.
But she stayed alert. She had to.
Chapter 10
Something was tickling her cheek.
Indy reached up a hand to scratch it, sighed, and tried to go back to sleep. The feather-light sensation returned, this time in her hair and she shifted, opening her eyes momentarily before they closed again. A second later they were wide open and she bolted upright in her chair from her position slumped over the bed.
‘Ouch,’ she said as her neck jarred. It ached from sleeping in the one position for too long. Sleeping. Dammit, she shouldn’t have been sleeping. How long had she been asleep? She could see morning light filtering in through the small window. But her annoyance with herself was short-lived as she saw Will’s eyes were open and he was smiling weakly at her.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, stifling a yawn. ‘I fell asleep. Are you alright? How long have you been awake? Are you in pain?’
‘That’s a lot of questions for so early in the morning,’ he said groggily.
‘You should have woken me. I was supposed to be watching you. Some nurse I make.’
‘You looked too peaceful to wake,’ he told her. ‘Too beautiful.’
The intensity in his dark eyes and his unexpected compliment had her belly quaking, her cheeks heating.
‘Well, you’ve had a knock to your head so I’m sure your eyesight is compromised. How is your head?’ she asked leaning over to check the bandage. Blood from the wound hadn’t seeped through so that was good. But it was the residual effects she was worried about.
‘It throbs as though there were ten large artillery guns in there.’ He groaned as she pressed at the lump there.
‘Sorry. Sorry.’
Deep eyes sought hers and held and she realised she was inappropriately close to a half-naked man. She sat back quickly and he slowly pulled the fine sheet up over his chest.
‘Um. My clothes?’
Suddenly mute, Indy pointed to his uniform, draped over the chair. She knew he only had his short underwear on his bottom half below the sheet. ‘Mother took your tunic to soak in salt,’ she said and Will looked baffled. ‘It helps remove the blood.’
‘Oh,’ he answered and then blinked, surprised. ‘Wait. Your mother? Where am I?’
He glanced about the unfamiliar room.
‘You were barely conscious when I found you. I brought you to my mother’s home in the bush. She took care of your injury.’
As though summoned, Mary Wallace opened the door and stepped in with a bowl of water and a sponge. ‘Indigo, why don’t you fix the gentleman some breakfast. Are you hungry, sir?’
‘I am, thank you.’
Her mother gave her a look that brooked no argument and Indy reluctantly disappeared out the door.
Gingerly, Will pushed himself up in bed. ‘I thank you for your help, Mrs Wallace, but I should be getting back to my regiment.’
‘Hold your horses there, young Captain.’
‘It’s Lieutenant,’ he corrected her. ‘Lieutenant Will Marsh
, madam, and I am most indebted to you, but I really must be going.’
He lifted the sheet to get out of bed, but realising just how thin and revealing his undershorts were, he pulled the sheet back across his lap.
‘I beg your pardon,’ he apologised. ‘Perhaps I could have some privacy in order to dress?’
‘Boyo, you’ve nothing I haven’t seen before,’ Mary said and urged him gently back against the wooden bedhead. ‘Now you’ll stay put until you at least have some food and I can see that you can hold it in your system. You’ve had a good whack to the head, and you need to be careful. It would injure more than you, should you suddenly drop dead.’
Warily, he met her gaze.
‘My daughter is very fond of you, Lieutenant Marsh,’ Mary said as she unwrapped the bandage around his head.
‘As I am of her, Mrs Wallace. She is a sweet child, and I see where she gets her tenacity from.’
‘A child is she?’ Mary asked with raised eyebrows. ‘And tenacity is just a polite word for stubborn.’
‘I promise I have nothing but the utmost respect for your daughter. You have no need to worry about her where I am concerned. Miss Indy and I are different creatures from different worlds.’
Mary gave an elegant grunt that reminded him of Indy. Squeezing the excess water from the cloth, she carefully wiped the dried blood from his head. ‘Is that your way of saying you’re too good for her?’
‘No,’ he said, unperturbed by her sudden irritation. ‘If anything, it’s my way of saying she is too good for me.’
Will examined Mary as she tended to his wound. Fair of hair like her daughter, she had similar eyes of the same shape, but the colour was a little more sky blue than the deep blue-purple of Indy’s. She still had a young woman’s beauty. She could not have been much more than a teenager herself when she’d given birth to Indy. Thinking of Donnelly, and how Indy had come to be, it wasn’t something he wanted to dwell on as her mother’s gentle hands worked to heal his wound.
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