‘Well, your duty is a load of bollocks,’ she said. And clearly done with him, she stormed away.
***
Indy was fuming.
She barrelled down the hill towards town at a cracking pace, spurred on by her righteous anger.
Duty. Duty? Who talked like that?
He could be so frustrating sometimes. How could he not see that the duty he was so bound to was upholding unjust laws that kept good people from having a real life here in Victoria? The very reason so many left England and Ireland was to find a place less constricted by the codes and rules of richer men. Okay, the gold was a big draw card too, but even the guidebooks for emigrants touted a world of freedom.
Exhaling some of her frustration, she groaned out loud. The time she and Will spent together was precious and rare. She didn’t want to spend it fighting with him. But it seemed he disagreed with her ideals and was only too happy to tell her so. One minute they were having a wonderful sensual moment together and the next they were on opposing sides of this ongoing conflict.
She’d felt the desire in him as she had straddled his legs. His hands had sent delicious vibrations direct to her core as they had crept higher on her thighs. They’d been talking of making love. Of finding a place and a way to be together. And then the real world had crept in and ruined everything.
Reaching the edge of town Indy sighed, horribly deflated all of a sudden. Her temper always left her feeling flat. She really had to learn to get a hold of it. She wondered how it was possible that a man as intelligent as Will could blindly defend the unjust laws of a totalitarian government. Still, she wished she were more mature in her discussions and less inclined to fly off the handle whenever someone didn’t agree with her. Her silly female emotions always had her speaking without thinking and often got her into trouble.
Well, there was no time to think now on the hurt feelings of Lieutenant Will Marsh. He was a man. He would survive. She had work to do. She arrived at Mrs Murphy’s tent store and was thrilled at the number of women who had turned out for the inaugural meeting of the Ladies of the Ballarat Reform League.
Taking a deep breath to cleanse the last of her temper, she followed the ladies into the tent, ready to use her righteous anger for the good of the fairer sex.
***
That evening Will and George watched the huge contingent of the Fortieth Regiment march into camp.
‘Lord almighty,’ Will murmured, staggered by the number of the latest arrivals. ‘They’re not pulling any punches.’
‘Bring in any more soldiers and we’ll be sleeping standing up,’ George added. ‘We’re already cheek by jowl. Where do they think these poor blighters are going to bunk down?’
‘I think they’re past caring,’ Will said scowling. ‘It’s a show of strength. Rede copped a slap on the wrist for his dealings over the Eureka Hotel fire.’
‘He blamed the police for that,’ George added. ‘Inspector Evans was well annoyed.’
‘Yes, but now Hotham has given Rede carte blanche. He has the ultimate say over everyone and everything in the government camp. The civil commissioners, the traps and now even the military, which of course is causing no end of irritation for Captain Thomas and the other regimental commanding officers. Rede was humiliated after the hotel fire. He is not about to allow another show of mob rioting happen on his watch.’
‘Can you blame him?’
‘No, but it’s getting out of hand.’
‘The miners have brought it upon themselves,’ George said with a shrug.
Will’s head jerked to look at his oldest friend. ‘Do you really believe that this stockpiling of soldiers and weaponry is the answer to the requests of a bunch of immigrants?’
‘From what I hear they demand, they don’t request.’
‘They’re tired,’ Will said, rubbing his neck, feeling somewhat weary himself. ‘The gold is running out, yet they still have to pay for a licence regardless of whether they find any gold or not. Hotham doesn’t listen. He makes promises he doesn’t keep.’ Will stopped abruptly. Where the hell had all that come from? All of a sudden he could hear Indy in his head speaking the words that were coming out of his mouth.
‘You’ve been getting about with Miss Wallace too long, old friend,’ George joked as though reading his mind. ‘You’re picking up her political tendencies.’
He thought about that for a long moment, watching George light a cigarette.
‘She’s not wrong,’ he said finally.
George choked out smoke, ‘Excuse me?’
Will could barely believe it himself. The more he thought about things, the more he began to agree with Indy’s summation of the situation. He’d never questioned the reasons behind the orders before. He was a soldier and it was his job to do what he was told. But this situation felt different. And although he’d argued with Indy, and she’d stormed away from him, he’d thought a lot about what she’d said over the past week. She’d been so angry with him she’d made no attempt at contact in almost ten days. It had given him plenty of time to rehash their conversation.
‘She’s not wrong,’ he said again as the latest arrivals dispersed to find accommodations and food. ‘Regardless, this is not how you put down a simple civil disturbance. This is excessive.’
But it concerned him more than a little that his own political views were becoming so closely aligned to that of an uncontrollable girl with shining blonde hair and a wicked temper.
‘Is it not?’ George asked seemingly more amused than alarmed by Will’s speech.
‘Are we not fighting right now in Crimea against the Russian Empire who will oppress democracy? Are we not seeing here democracy and independence on fledgling legs being requested …’ Will rolled his eyes at George’s look, ‘demanded then—by immigrant miners who just want to see some results from the taxes they pay. A right to vote in this country they live in, a right to have a seat in the legislative council regardless of whether they own land or not and the right to purchase that land should they wish to and have the means? Land they could sew and reap, land on which they could raise livestock. Would this country not be a better place if more industry could be found other than at the end of a pick and bucket of dirt?’
‘Careful, Will,’ George teased. ‘Your words smack of dissent.’
Will blinked and scanned the area around him. He had been speaking at a normal volume but there were so many bodies in the government camp now a private conversation was near impossible. And there was Indy’s voice again in his head. She had planted the seed of doubt and it had grown.
‘Is it dissent, George?’ Will asked thoughtfully. ‘Or decency?’
Chapter 21
Indy left her mine earlier than usual to seek out a game of cards or dice. It was another stinking hot day and she wanted to plant herself in a nice cool hotel, be out of the sun and maybe, just maybe, she’d have a pannikin of beer or two.
She set off down the main road towards the Duchess of Kent Hotel, one of her favoured pubs for a good and fair game of poker. She’d refused to patronise many of the other hotels since they had introduced cock-fighting for sport and gambling. As she was about to turn up the alleyway beside Mr Diamond’s home store that led to the Duchess of Kent, she heard hoof beats behind her.
Shading her eyes against the strong afternoon sun, she spotted Will riding towards her. He stopped but didn’t dismount.
‘Good afternoon, Miss Wallace,’ he said smiling down at her.
His smile soon faded when she didn’t respond.
‘Can we talk?’ he asked. ‘Or are you still upset with me?’
Truth be told, she had been angry with Will. But she’d been angrier still that it had taken him ten days to come and find her. Ten days she had waited for him to apologise. She could have gone to him but she had far too much pride for that. And besides, she’d been in the right.
He finally dismounted to stand beside her.
‘You really are an idiot, aren’t you?’ she murmured
.
‘Are we talking about our last argument or something else?’
Her eyes scanned the busy street around her. As Will had ridden up to her, miners had stopped to watch him with suspicious glares. Women who walked along the veranda in front of the Criterion store stopped to gawk and whisper behind their hands, gossiping no doubt about the miner girl and her soldier.
Over the last month, Indy had begun to notice a change in how people treated her. She’d never had many female friends. Without a husband or children she was on the outer circle of most groups of women, but in the last few weeks, even the ladies with whom she was friendly had become standoffish or hurried away whenever she was in their vicinity. Several of her students had failed to show for classes in the week past too, and she occasionally came across people talking about her when they thought she couldn’t hear.
She knew it was because they thought she was sleeping with a soldier. The story of the young Canadian nurse, whose father had all but locked her away after she’d been caught cavorting with a soldier, had been fodder for the gossips for weeks. The rumours about Will and Indy had mostly been speculative since Trevor and Eliza’s wedding, but having Will ride directly up to her in town would have the rumours cemented as truth in the minds of those who had witnessed.
‘I’m sorry we quarrelled,’ he continued, seemingly oblivious to the stares and whispers going on around them. ‘Shall we go to the river? I have a keen desire for a swim.’
‘You go on ahead,’ she told him. ‘I’ll meet you there.’
As she watched him mount his horse again and ride away, Indy knew it was probably a pointless ruse to travel separately. But she’d still prefer to keep some doubt in the minds of the townsfolk.
Turning her back on the gossips to begin walking towards the river, she saw the teenaged paperboy rush out of the Ballarat Times building holding a pile of fresh copies of the newspaper.
‘Bentley and Co convicted of the manslaughter of James Scobie!’
Indy stopped dead at the announcement and watched as townsfolk descended on the poor lad, fighting for a copy of the paper. Bentley finally convicted? Could it be true? She joined the scrambling crowd and managed to snatch the daily sheet before another woman could get it.
Moving out of the crush of people, Indy began to read the front page story. It stated that Bentley, Hance and Farrell had been retried in the city and sentenced to hard labour. She could scarcely believe it. Melbourne justice was clearly less biased than Ballarat justice. As she read on though, it also reported that miners Westerby, Fletcher and McIntyre had been convicted and sentenced to jail terms in Melbourne for the burning of the Eureka Hotel.
‘Oh!’ a woman exclaimed. ‘But Catherine Bentley was found not guilty.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ another woman answered. ‘She is a fallen woman now. A husband convicted of murder? She’ll never be accepted in polite society again.’
Indy stared at the women as they passed by. A fallen woman? Was that where she was heading too? The miners could be unforgiving. Whether her relationship with Will had an end date or not, they would ostracise her for her involvement with him.
She folded the paper under her arm and started walking quickly towards the dense bushland on the town outskirts. Meandering through the scrub, she thought about what it might mean to the miners now that Bentley had been found guilty and finally convicted of the murder of Scobie. Would this calm the unrest that had plagued Ballarat since the fateful night, so long ago it seemed to her, that Scobie lost his life? Or would it urge the reformists on, giving them the support and energy they needed to continue with their fight for equality? She’d lay money on the latter. They would see this as a result of their petitions and protestations and be spurred on by it.
It was a blessing to find the shade of the trees in the heat of the day. The temperature dropped a little and as she arrived at the river, she found Will pacing impatiently.
‘I thought you wouldn’t come,’ he said, looking more unsure of himself than she’d ever seen him.
‘Bentley’s been convicted of murder,’ she blurted. She must still have been in shock for that to be the first thing that came out of her mouth.
‘What?’ He walked towards her as she held out the paper to him.
She watched his furrowed brow as he scanned the words.
‘Well,’ was all he said.
‘I’m as surprised as you,’ she answered, and walked to the small sandy beach by the river. She remembered the last time they had been here together—it felt like an age ago. Though less than two months had passed since he’d caught her bathing naked in the river. When she felt him behind her she had to try hard not to lean back against his broad chest.
‘I’ll apologise for my temper the last time we spoke,’ she said, staring into the cool depths of the river. ‘But I won’t apologise for the content of it.’
‘Understood,’ he said, the reassurance of his deep voice spreading warmth throughout her body. ‘It might be best if we keep our discussions to safer topics. Let’s leave politics and religion to the politicians and the priests, shall we?’
She turned and smiled up at him. ‘Agreed.’
‘How did the inaugural meeting of the Ladies of the Ballarat Reform League go?’
Her smile faltered. ‘I thought we weren’t going to talk politics.’
‘Pardon me, you are correct,’ he acquiesced.
Indy sighed heavily and gave in. ‘It was a complete waste of time. Here I was thinking we would talk about what we would do to get the men to see us as equals and all they wanted to talk about was babies and sewing patterns.’
She narrowed her eyes at Will as he stifled a laugh and pretended it was a cough.
‘It’s not funny,’ she said, but she couldn’t help the smile that touched her lips. ‘There I was standing on my proverbial soapbox talking about rights for women and they wanted to know whether they were still allowed to wear their dresses if they wanted to be equal to men. That descended into a full out argument over bloomers and petticoats versus the latest in crinolines.’
‘Change takes time, Indy,’ Will offered, still trying not to laugh.
Indy pouted.
‘You are so different to them,’ he said, lifting a curl from her cheek and placing it behind her ear. ‘Different to anyone I have ever met. They just want to make the world pretty, to make a home for their men and their children. You want to make the world a better place.’
She shrugged, ‘What’s wrong with that?’
‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘Nothing at all. But, my courageous little warrior, the world is yet to catch up with your ideals. I am struggling to keep up with them. You can be a little intimidating.’
‘So I should stop having an opinion? I should simply put on a dress and a bonnet and marry the first man who asks?’
‘Tame the untamable Indy Wallace?’ he asked, wide-eyed with mock horror. ‘Never in a million years. And I do not wish you to marry the first man who asks,’ he said moving closer to her. ‘If you did that, I would not be allowed to do this.’
He kissed her cheek lightly. Then, pressing his body against hers, his tongue traced the curves of her ear and her breath caught.
‘And I wouldn’t be able to do this,’ he whispered, before dropping warm kisses along her jawline until he reached the very corner of her mouth.
‘No, I imagine my husband would be quite upset if you did that,’ she said, her breath catching when his hands went to her ribs.
‘Then I imagine he would kill me for this,’ he said, his thumb moving up to caress a nipple.
‘Will?’ she pleaded.
‘Mmm?’
‘Kiss me.’
She didn’t need to ask again. She was yanked against his body and his mouth descended to hers in a crushing kiss that made her head spin and her belly liquefy.
‘I’m sorry we quarrelled,’ he said between kisses.
‘You said that already. I’m enjoying making up.’
> Tired of his gentle teasing, she gripped his hair to pull his mouth back to hers.
After a few moments of breath-stealing kisses, she leaned away to let her spinning head and heart settle.
‘I thought you wanted a swim.’
‘I do,’ he said, and grinning with a deviousness she’d not seen on his face before, he swung her up off the ground and into his arms before walking knee deep into the water, boots and all.
‘Join me, will you?’
‘Don’t you dare!’ she yelled before he tossed her into the river and dove in after her.
Chapter 22
The upbeat jaunty strains of a brass band marching through the town drew the attention of everyone on the Eureka goldfield. Standing up from the cradle and pushing her hat back on her head to wipe the perspiration away, Indy watched as the Stars and Stripes of the American flag was paraded along the streets and through the diggings, led by its musical escort.
She cringed and made an unladylike guttural groaning noise.
‘Turkey Day,’ Sean said, taking a mouthful of water as they watched the Americans trudge through town and camp singing ‘The Star-Spangled Banner’—again, and again and again. Indy was so sick of the damn song.
For three years, they had endured the American miners celebrating Thanksgiving Day. And as the day wore on, the drinking got heavier, the gunfire exploded into the air with frightening regularity and fights would break out. Mostly between the Americans and the English as historical tensions from years of war between the sovereignty and the once British colony reared their heads on the back of a nobbler or ten of Kentucky bourbon.
The children of the goldfields loved Turkey Day. They followed the Americans about, as they seemed to have an endless supply of firecrackers as well as chocolate and candy imported specifically for the event.
A party was always held in honour of the day and the American consular Mr Tarleton was travelling up from Melbourne this year to attend the extravagant dinner at the Victoria Hotel. Commissioner Rede would also be in attendance along with many of the other top government officials from the camp.
The Girl From Eureka Page 23