by Lena Dowling
‘What’s this?’
‘Just a little trinket I picked up I thought you might like.’
She gasped and this time she didn’t have to pretend. ‘This must have cost a fortune,’ she said, running her finger over the glittering cascade of diamonds that fell like a waterfall from the silver necklace.
‘Here, let me put it on.’
Richard’s wrinkled fingers fumbled at the nape of her neck. ‘Nothing’s too good. You’ll want for nothing. And to that end I’ve organised for you to visit the drapers this afternoon. They’ll kit you out in a whole new wardrobe. Mrs Watson will go with you and advise you on what you’ll need, but beyond that, choose whatever you want and tell them to send the bill to me. After that you’ll start your lessons.’
‘Lessons?’
‘Etiquette, elocution and deportment so you’re comfortable accompanying me socially, and music lessons so that you can learn to read music and sing songs that people will recognise. You’re going to be very popular at evening soirees with your talent, once we sort out your repertoire.’
Every part of her wanted to hitch up her skirts and run. She hadn’t expected Richard to want her to be a proper wife like that. That’s not how it went when an officer or a gentleman took a convict wife. They kept her at home out of sight where she couldn’t embarrass him in front of his fancy friends. Everyone knew he had a convict at home, but the wife was never seen; and to what is never seen, the eye can be blind.
‘They won’t want me there.’
‘Not at first, but since ninety per cent of the town owes me money, they will keep a civil tongue and their thoughts to themselves. And once they get know you like I do, they will change their minds. I think that should be sooner rather than later.’
Nellie swallowed against the hard lump that had come up in her throat. ‘How soon?’
‘The Governor and his wife are hosting a soiree next week.’
***
‘Aren’t you going to open it?’ Emily said, pointing to the letter sticking out of his pocket. Agnes had handed him the post on his way out the door and he’d forgotten all about it.
‘Maybe later,’ Harry said, stuffing it back in.
‘But it might be important,’ Emily said.
He had noted the seal. It was from the Governor’s office and since Rowley had only just arranged for Nellie’s licence to be transferred to him … ‘Very well,’ he said, fishing it out of his pocket and breaking the seal. ‘You’re right, it could be of significance,’ he said, although he had his doubts. Ever since he had revealed his true birth, he had been flooded with invitations from every corner of the colony for shooting parties, balls, picnics. ‘It’s for a reception at Government House,’ he said, tossing the invitation down on the table.
‘Tristan.’
‘What darling?’ Tristan said, pausing in his carving, and resting the oversized silver knife and fork on the roast leg of lamb Emily had proudly cooked herself.
Harry smiled inwardly at the irony of Lord Chesterton and Lady Emily Devereux-Mallard shoeing a horse and toiling in the kitchen respectively. Then felt the smile drop away with the recollection of how Nellie had reacted when he’d told her the truth.
Without Nellie, the Tullamore was like an abandoned ship, empty and listing and lately he’d been spending much of his free time at the Mallards.
‘Did we get one?’ Emily looked hopefully down the table at her husband.
‘Nothing for us, sorry.’
‘That’s alright,’ she said far too brightly, unintentionally drawing attention to her disappointment.
Harry handed the invitation to Tristan. ‘Why don’t you take it?’
‘It’s addressed to you. I haven’t quite reached the social echelons required for an invitation to Government House, but the invitation’s for two,’ Tristan said, handing the envelope back. ‘You should accompany Emily.’
‘Don’t be silly. What would people say?’ Emily’s voice was dismissive even as hope lingered in her tone.
Emily’s disappointment tore him in half. He no more wanted to suffer through a society soiree than he would have liked to have a tooth extracted by a George Street barber. But as much as she tried to hide it, Emily was beside herself with excitement at the prospect of attending a society event.
‘You can tell them I’m away doing business in the country and that Harry is a relative. With your titles, people will believe it. You are related, and then there’s the fact that my own father considers him a second son. Either way, you’d hardly be lying,’ Tristan said.
The reminder of how much the Mallard family had done for him, taking him in on each side of the world when his life had crumbled around him, prodded Harry’s conscience.
‘Of course, why didn’t I think of it. I’d be delighted,’ Harry said.
‘Then may I be excused,’ Emily said, already pushing back her chair.
‘But what about the dinner?’
‘Save me some for later, right now I’m too excited. And I need to make arrangements for something to wear at once.’
‘Wear! You have a wardrobe full of fancy gowns that have never seen the light of day since you married me,’ Tristan said, looking bemused.
‘But they’ll all be out of fashion.’
Tristan took up the carving cutlery and attacked the lamb with gusto. ‘Who knows what the fashion is? The fashion in London today we won’t have a clue of for at least three months. Lady Emily Mallard escorted by Lord Henry Chesterton can set her own fashion.’
Harry winced, regretting it already. That’s how he would be presented. It was unavoidable. And he wanted none of it.
‘Of course you’re right, but I still have to choose which,’ Emily said, dashing off, not even pausing to push in her chair.
‘You know you’ve made her day,’ Tristan said, laughing as he heaped a serving of meat on Harry’s plate.
Harry leaned forward to add potatoes and beans from a serving dish in the middle of the table. ‘Good to know I can make someone happy.’
‘Why don’t you speak to Nellie at the soiree, try to talk her around?’
‘You think Nellie will be there?’ Harry said, now even more worried than before.
‘She’s been seen on Henley’s arm everywhere else since the engagement was announced.’
Harry’s regret increased a hundredfold. He hadn’t thought about the prospect of having to see Henley and Nellie together.
Harry whipped his napkin into the air, unfolding it fiercely into his lap, ‘Nellie has made her choice.’
If he’d had any hope she would see sense and come home to the Tullamore, it was dashed when Pike had brought back the news she’d accepted Henley’s proposal.
‘You know this is not the same as it was with Selina, don’t you?’ Tristan said. ‘It’s not as if she went to Henley willingly.’
‘This has got nothing to do with that.’
‘If you say so.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Nothing, except from where I’m sitting this whole thing looks to have everything to do with that.’
Chapter 29
‘May I present Lady Mallard,’ Harry said, pushing Emily forward. She was too highborn to have to curtsey or even defer to the Governor’s commoner wife, but nevertheless she dipped her head graciously to their hostess.
‘Delighted,’ the Governor said, as he and his wife eyed each other quizzically.
‘I am Lord Chesterton’s closest relative in the colony,’ Emily said and the curious looks gave way to smiles.
‘Your servant, the one you visited me about. May I enquire after his welfare?’ the Governor said.
‘Mr Pike’s injuries are now quite healed. I trust, however, that the officer responsible will be held to account. There are other matters concerning his conduct that I hoped I might apprise you of later,’ Harry said. Nellie might have gone but that didn’t lessen his resolve to see Tompkins atone for what he had done. And if he was to be forced to be at this damned soiree,
then at least some good might come of it. That blackguard would be on the next transport back to England if he had anything to do with it.
‘I should be pleased to act on your recommendation.’
‘I’m much obliged, but I’ll not hold up the line any longer.’
Harry extended his arm to Emily. ‘Shall we take a drink?’ he said, when he had steered her away from the presentation line.
But Emily hadn’t heard him, preoccupied, her eyes raised to the ceiling. He managed to draw her only a few steps from where the Governor and his wife were receiving their guests before she pulled up to a complete stop. ‘I can’t remember the last time I saw a painted ceiling like this, or so many pictures in one place. Isn’t it wonderful?’
‘I can appreciate the craftsmanship, certainly.’ While the relative beauty of their surroundings buoyed Emily, his first thought was to the men who had done the work. Like the craftsmen who toiled maintaining Osbourne Hall, they did such skilled work for so little and then rarely if ever got to enjoy their work once it was completed. He only hoped Robert was doing enough to see the welfare of those who worked the estate.
Lady Hunter approached. ‘Emily—how wonderful to see you. Tristan has outdone himself.’
‘Tristan isn’t here. Harry was kind enough to bring me,’ Emily said.
‘My lord. I had heard we have a dark horse in our midst. It’s a wonder our paths didn’t cross in London.’
‘My time there was short, primarily for my education. The rest of the time I spent in Ireland.’
‘Ballychirvan, no less! You have no plans to return?’
‘Sydney is home now,’ he said. The thought had crossed his mind when he’d heard about Nellie’s engagement. But the thought had been fleeting. There seemed to be little to be gained from exchanging a new hurt for an old and the forge was still expanding, building up custom. The other properties were paying their way. He’d come too far to give it all up.
From the front of the room, cutlery chimed against quality crystal. The Governor cleared his throat from a low dais.
‘It is my great pleasure now to welcome Miss Eleanor Malone to the stage, who has recently accepted Mr Richard Henley, Esquire. Come now, Miss Malone, don’t be shy. Do regale us with your talent.’
The room resounded with murmurs and coughs.
Pushed forwards by Henley, Nellie tentatively stepped up on the stage, white-faced and fragile in a heavy ostentatious gown that didn’t suit her, overwhelming her natural beauty.
Nellie’s voice faltered through the opening line. It was a shock to hear Nellie come in under a note. But to her credit, little by little she took full command of the tune. A staid, old-fashioned song he had never heard her sing. By the end of it she had done the song passable justice but he couldn’t say the same in reverse. The tune did nothing to reveal her true talent.
‘Can you give us something from the Emerald Isle,’ Harry called out in an exaggerated Irish accent when the short polite applause had finished. Nellie’s head turned in the direction of his voice, her eyes searching for his. When they found him, her eyes widened. All around him there were murmurs and giggles as if he meant to demean Nellie, but he cut them short, adding, ‘Please, if you would indulge a homesick Irishman,’ and accorded Nellie a deep bow.
‘I don’t think—’ Henley stepped up onto the dais, moving to pull Nellie away, but she shooed him off then whispered something to the musicians who responded by setting down their instruments.
Nellie sang her song, the one she had written, unaccompanied. Her voice, clear and true, filled the ballroom, rippling the hairs on the back of Harry’s neck and transporting him thousands of miles away. Judging by the spellbound silence in the room, he was not alone.
When Nellie sang the final chorus, there was silence for a couple of seconds; as if the audience needed a moment to absorb the magnificence of what they had heard before the applause erupted.
Even the musicians rose from their seats to salute her.
While everyone else turned to speak to their companions, Harry kept his gaze fixed on Nellie. She looked about for Henley, and seeing him surrounded by men who were congratulating him as if he had been the one to give the performance, she turned and slipped away down the opposite side of the dais towards the French doors.
With Emily in animated conversation with her friend, Harry slipped away; weaving through the crowd, negotiating his way through the hazard of fluttering fans and wild gesticulations, to follow Nellie out through the veranda.
She stood with her back to him, looking out across the lawn to a stand of Norfolk pines in the distance.
Harry dug his toe into the spongy carpet until he hit the earth a good two inches down.
‘In this climate it’s quite the triumph of optimism over common sense, but it’s very green,’ Harry said.
***
His voice rang in her ears and struck her heart all at the same time. She turned. ‘Harry, what?’ she said, unsure what he was talking about. Then it dawned on her. ‘Oh the lawn. Yes, it’s quite the greenest thing around. And thank you, by the way,’ she said, ‘I was so nervous having to sing that dreadful tune.’ Up on the stage she had been terrified. Especially when the awful song Richard and her new singing teacher insisted she sing had gone so badly. Harry needn’t have done anything but he had stepped in to save her.
‘You sang tremendously well once you had something to suit your voice.’
She did her best to ignore it, but her heart gave a little flutter. Harry looked wonderful in his regular charcoal suit. He was underdressed compared to the other guests, but as the highest-ranking toff in the colony, no one would raise a comment to him. Harry could get away with anything, say anything and no one would doubt his word, which is what hurt so much.
‘How is everything at the Tullamore?’
‘Just the same and not the same. I’ve broken the ice with Agnes, but Pike still communicates with me in grunts. He hasn’t forgiven me for your leaving. Jammy, of course, is full of life, entertaining the customers, some of them new since Mr Ellis is away on one of his surveying trips and the Green family took up a farm across the harbour at Kirribilli. The forge is going from strength to strength, which is just as well since I haven’t been able to find another singer to replace you.’
‘You’ll find someone eventually,’ she said, secretly pleased they hadn’t been able to fill her spot too quickly. She hated the thought of everything changing at the guesthouse.
The worst of it was that soon there would be new regulars. People she didn’t even know. And she wouldn’t be a part of the place anymore.
‘Eventually, I suppose but they won’t be you.’
‘Maybe they’ll be better.’
For a moment neither of them spoke, the only sounds the clink of glasses, the hum of conversation and fading laughter of a joke already told drifting across the lawn on the breeze.
‘I hear congratulations are in order,’ Harry said finally.
‘Thank you, we’re very happy,’ she said trying, to make it sound as if she meant it but her voice came out dull and flat.
‘Are you really? I assume it was Henley who had you sing that dreadful dirge?’
Nellie bristled. She would not hear Harry criticise a man who had been so good to her, one to whom her past genuinely meant nothing, and who had never lied to her about anything.
‘Actually, it was my singing teacher’s choice and if you’ll excuse me, we shouldn’t be alone out here together,’ she said, hitching her skirt up off the grass and stepping towards the house.
Harry’s hand came down firm on her arm. ‘Because you don’t trust yourself or because people will talk?’ She looked up, but he did not let go, the intensity of his words matched by the ferocious look in his eyes.
‘Harry please,’ she said, looking away rather than admit that the answer was both.
‘No. I’ll go back inside. You should stay. Enjoy the green.’ With that, he strode back across the lawn, up the ste
ps and back into the house.
She wanted home so badly, only she didn’t know where that was anymore.
Chapter 30
‘You’re sure about this? Not that you’re not welcome of course, we’d love to have you, but I do wonder if you’re not being overly hasty?’ Tristan said, pulling out a chair for Emily before taking a seat himself at the table in the guesthouse kitchen.
‘Completely sure.’
If he hadn’t been before the Governor’s soiree, he was now. Nellie had chosen and she had chosen Henley.
‘You’ll get over Miss Malone eventually,’ Emily said, softly.
‘You knew?’
Emily sighed. ‘With the way you’ve been of late, I suspected it, but the other night at the Governor’s soiree confirmed it. I saw the two of you on the lawn.
‘How have I been?’ Harry asked. He had thought he had hidden his feelings pretty well.
‘Morose.’
‘Then I apologise for having been such poor company.’
‘No one knows better than Tristan and me that it can’t be helped,’ She looked over at her husband and clasped her hand over his laid on the tabletop.
Harry looked away.
It hadn’t just been affection with Nellie. It was love. He was surer than ever of that. And worse, now he knew it had been love on both sides, and he had thrown it all away.
It wasn’t going to be easy living with a happy couple, but at least the feeling of Nellie’s absence would be lessened living elsewhere.
‘You’ll ride back to the house with us, of course.’ Tristan said.
‘There’s no need.’
‘I insist, or all your things will be rattled to bits,’ Tristan said. ‘I know what those hire carriages are like.’
‘I need to pack.’
Emily stood up. ‘I have errands to run. That should give you plenty of time, and Tristan can help.’
Once they had let Emily out through the back gate, Harry turned to Tristan and said, ‘I’ll have Agnes sort you out a cup of tea. There may be some passable shortbread.’ He caught himself about to add ‘Although not as good as Nellie’s’ then stopped. It was just another example of why he couldn’t stay on at the guesthouse. There were too many reminders.