“Miss Scottsdale, what are you doing here?” He regarded her with some suspicion.
Abbey swallowed the lump in her throat and tried her best to appear calm. “You said you’d drive me back to Burra, and I’d like to go now,” she said a little breathlessly.
Alfie stared at her before glancing in the direction of the Hall. “I was just about to exercise the master’s horse, but … as you wish. I’ll have to go up to the Hall and notify someone, however,” he added.
“Why?” Abbey said, a little too quickly.
Alfie frowned guardedly.
“Mr. Mason is asleep and he doesn’t want to be disturbed,” Abbey added.
“Asleep?” Alfie repeated, obviously confused. “That’s not like the master. He’s always been a very early riser.”
Not today, Abbey thought, barely keeping from panicking as she hurriedly thought of something to say. “He had a bit too much wine last night, much more than usual, I gather. So did I. That’s why I spent the night in one of the guest rooms.”
Alfie continued to regard her in silence. Abbey knew he was digesting what she’d said with some skepticism, and she was incredibly tense. She wondered if he’d known what his employer had planned for her.
“I’ll wait here if you want to go and wake Mr. Mason,” she said, feigning bravado, “but I suspect he can be very bad-tempered if he has reason to be.”
Alfie knew this to be true, but he also knew Ebenezer Mason expected his staff to follow orders to the letter. “I can’t take the carriage out without notifying the master or Winston,” he said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” After tying the horse to a rail, he began walking towards the house.
Suddenly Alfie stopped and turned to face Abbey, who tried to mask the alarm growing inside her, but it was difficult. She was sure the game was up, and for a few seconds seriously contemplated making a run for it.
“Don’t go near Horatio,” Alfie warned.
“Horatio?”
“The master’s horse. He’s a fiery animal at times and a bit unpredictable.”
Abbey looked at the big black horse. “I’ll keep clear of him,” she muttered.
***
When Alfie was out of sight, Abbey went to the stables, giving Horatio a wide berth. He was bridled, and his saddle rested on the gate of his stall, ready to be put on. Four other horses were quietly making their way through the piles of hay in their stalls. She was terribly thirsty, so Abbey cupped some water from one of the troughs and splashed it on her face. It felt wonderfully cool and refreshing.
Her instincts were screaming at her to flee again on foot, but she knew she wouldn’t get far if someone like Alfie came after her on a horse. That was sure to happen once he’d spoken to Winston and found out that Ebenezer was dead, and that Winston and the maids thought she was responsible. Running away also made her look guilty, but what choice did she have?
Abbey couldn’t understand why the butler and the maids would believe that she’d killed their employer and then spent the night in bed with him. Surely, they’d think about it and realise that if she’d murdered him, she wouldn’t just lie there as if nothing had happened. Obviously, they weren’t thinking rationally, so there was every chance they’d send for the police and claim that she killed Ebenezer Mason. She tried to imagine herself on trial for his murder, and she panicked further.
Abbey knew she had to act quickly if she wanted to get away. She looked at Horatio. He was standing quietly. She wondered if Alfie had lied to her. Without another thought, she untied him.
“I know you’d be ashamed of me for stealing, Father, but I have no choice,” she whispered, becoming emotional. “I don’t want to hang for killing Mr. Mason when I didn’t do it.” She didn’t waste time trying to saddle the horse before stepping up onto a rail on a stall gate and tossing a leg over the animal’s broad back. She turned him towards the open doors. She gently kicked his flanks and he leapt forward, almost unseating her. “Whoa,” she cried, thinking that maybe stealing Horatio hadn’t been such a good idea after all.
Abbey soon realised that Alfie had been telling the truth, and that she was riding a very spirited horse, but she turned him down the estate’s long road and hung on. She hadn’t ridden bareback since she and her father had left her aunt’s farm in Ireland. Even then, it had been a farm horse, a gentle, old Clydesdale used for plowing. Atop Horatio she was bouncing around like a novice.
In no time at all they had nearly covered the length of the road, and Abbey could see the wrought-iron gates quickly looming closer. They were closed. She panicked and tried to rein in the horse, but he wouldn’t slow down.
“Whoa,” Abbey cried, but the harder she pulled on the reins, the more Horatio stretched his neck out. She was sure they were about to crash headlong into the gates, when at the last second the horse veered to the left and leapt the side fence. Abbey felt them sailing through the air, almost in slow motion. She clenched her teeth and tightened her grip on the horse’s mane. By a miracle, she managed to stay seated when the horse landed and began galloping down the road towards the town of Mintaro at top speed.
Fields of sheep, eucalyptus trees, and blowing dust whizzed by. In no time at all they had covered the distance to town and were galloping down the main street, past a mix of businesses and houses. Abbey was barely aware of being observed by a handful of startled people in the street. Up ahead the road looked clear, and Horatio showed no signs of tiring.
They were passing the last few houses on the outskirts of town, when suddenly a large dog ran out, snapping at the horse’s heels. Horatio shied and veered left, but Abbey was prepared and hung on. Then the horse leapt another fence, this time into a paddock of sheep. The ground was uneven, and Abbey was thrown as Horatio stumbled. She landed heavily between the scattering sheep.
Dazed and winded, Abbey lay still for a few minutes, as she caught her breath and tried to determine if any of her bones had been broken. She was only vaguely aware of the horse heading away across the field at a full gallop.
When she was sure she was still in one piece, Abbey gingerly sat up. The side of her head hurt, and she felt a lump. She also had a cut on her hand, but other than that, she had survived the fall relatively unscathed. She knew she was lucky. The sheep were grazing again on the far side of the field, ignoring her. Horatio had obviously jumped another fence, as he was nowhere to be seen.
Now what? Abbey thought. She was only a few miles from Martindale Hall, so she couldn’t walk on the road because Alfie or Winston would soon catch up with her. She also couldn’t ask anyone in the town of Mintaro for help, because she suspected Alfie or Winston would make enquiries there. That meant she had to walk through the countryside, avoiding people and roads.
Setting off, Abbey began to think about what might have taken place at the Hall. She couldn’t believe the maids were actually convinced she had married Ebenezer Mason by choice. She glanced at her hand and the wedding ring on her finger. Pulling it off, she threw it down the slope she had just climbed. I didn’t marry that man, she thought angrily. She was convinced he had lied to his staff because never in a million years would she have wed him willingly.
For the first time, it occurred to Abbey that Ebenezer Mason might have drugged her. She hadn’t eaten before she went to the Hall, and she’d been hungry, but a few sips of wine wouldn’t have caused her to lose all memory of the evening. Flashing of that night started coming back to her. She thought about how quickly she had begun to feel strange after sipping the wine. She remembered the minister she’d seen standing near Ebenezer at the far end of the table. At the time, she hadn’t known whether he had been real or imagined.
Suddenly Abbey stopped, feeling sick again. Ebenezer Mason had planned the whole thing. He’d enticed her to the Hall with the promise of compensation, and then he’d drugged her and brought in a minister. He’d been a cunning devil with no conscience. Just a
s she’d suspected, he hadn’t let anything stop him from getting what he wanted. She didn’t know how or why he’d died, and would have felt uncharitable for being happy about it, but she still blamed him for the deaths of the two men she loved most in the world.
Over the next hour, Abbey’s thoughts took her in a direction she didn’t want to go. What if Ebenezer Mason had had forced himself upon her before he died? That might explain the strange feeling she
“Oh, God,” she said aloud. Just the thought made her want to be sick. She’d never been intimate with a man before. Her thoughts went even further. What if she was expecting his child? “Please, God, don’t let that happen,” she prayed.
***
A few hours later, Abbey had walked quite a few miles and given herself a good talking to. She’d kept off the road, crossing farmland, but avoiding homesteads. She’d been considering her options and decided it was a waste of energy to feel sorry for herself. She didn’t know what had happened to her, but worrying about it wasn’t going to change anything—Ebenezer Mason was dead. She hoped she was heading in the direction of Clare, because she knew if Alfie and Winston were looking for her, they’d look in Burra. Luckily, Clare was only a few miles from Mintaro and in a different direction than Burra.
By late afternoon, Abbey was weak with hunger, and she collapsed on the side of a small hill, underneath some shady eucalyptus trees. Her face had become quite sunburned after hours in the hot sun. She’d found water an hour earlier in an animal trough on a farm. It hadn’t been very clean or cold, but she’d been too thirsty to care. She’d also picked a few apples that had been on the tree too long and now had stomachache to add to her troubles. She closed her eyes, intending to rest for just a little while before pressing on.
***
Abbey awoke with a start. Hours must have passed, and it was getting dark. She hadn’t meant to sleep, but apparently had dozed off. For a moment she was disoriented, not sure which direction to go, or from which direction she had come. Then she caught the smell of food on the breeze, and her stomach grumbled loudly.
Getting to her feet, Abbey sniffed the air, trying to determine which direction the smell was coming from. She followed the delicious aroma. Soon after, she saw the smoke of a campfire drifting into the sky over the rise of a hill. After climbing the hill, she saw a small group of Aboriginal men and women sitting around a campfire in the valley below. Abbey was wary; there were often clashes between the Aboriginal people and the squatters who’d acquired land from the government for farming. But she was so hungry, and whatever they were cooking smelt heavenly.
The group was made up of four men and three women. Seeing women bolstered Abbey’s confidence enough to move closer. She’d never been so hungry in her life and that hunger was pushing her fears aside.
The group members were talking amongst themselves and didn’t see her approaching until she was almost upon them. They had been feasting on meat roasted in the coals of the fire, and there was still a good amount left over. Abbey’s mouth was salivating with hunger. She wanted to grab the meat and tear into it with her teeth.
Suddenly one of the women saw her and spoke a warning to the others, who all turned to stare at Abbey. The men got up, one of them picking up a spear, and came towards her. Abbey stood her ground and held her palms up in surrender as he began shouting at her and threatening her with the bloodied spear. It took all her courage not to run away.
“Please, I’m so hungry. Can you spare some food?” she begged.
The Aboriginal man regarded her with dark, expressionless eyes. He spoke again and gestured for Abbey to go away. Realising he didn’t understand her, she began to cry and pointed at the food and her mouth. The man glanced at the lump on the side of her head and said something to the others, who discussed it amongst themselves. When the man shouted at her again, she began to sob, covering her face with her hands.
The man backed away, and two women came towards Abbey, but with her face covered, she didn’t see them approach. The women circled her, noting her sunburn, cut hand, and bruising. They discussed her for a few moments while Abbey tried to pull herself together. The smell of food was overwhelming, and she no longer cared what they said or did. She walked towards their fire, sat down and took some scraps of meat, stuffing them into her mouth ravenously. They all watched her with interest and then picked up their few belongings and left. Abbey was only vaguely aware of what they were doing. All she could think about was pushing meat into her mouth and swallowing it as quickly as she could to satisfy her hunger. She wasn’t even aware of what she was eating until she noticed a skin nearby that appeared to have belonged to a kangaroo. Normally she would have been horrified at the thought of eating roo meat, but satisfying her hunger was all she cared about. After eating as much as she could, Abbey was exhausted. It was dark, so she lay down beside the dying fire and closed her eyes.
***
Sometime later, Abbey awoke when someone prodded her. She fully expected to see Winston or Alfie standing over her, so she was even more shocked to find herself surrounded by the same Aboriginal men and women whose food she had devoured. Scrambling to her feet, Abbey faced them. In the moonlight she recognised the two women she’d met earlier. Had they returned to kill her for stealing their food? She was terrified.
“I’m sorry I took your meat. I was just so hungry,” she cried.
The women spoke amongst themselves, leaving Abbey to speculate about what they were saying. Their conversation, in short, clipped syllables, was rapid and fiery. She was sure they were discussing what to do with her.
“Please don’t hurt me,” Abbey cried. She felt her life was going from bad to worse, and she just couldn’t cope any more. Overwhelmed, she collapsed again, curling up in a ball on the ground.
The women went quiet, and then one of them knelt beside her and examined the lump on her temple. She began chanting and the others stood by, looking on. Abbey watched as the woman opened a woven bag tied around her waist and produced what appeared to be ground bones, which she proceeded to sprinkle over her. Abbey gave herself over to whatever they were doing. She was exhausted, physically and mentally; she didn’t have any fight left in her. All she wanted was her father and Neal, and for life to return to what it had been just a few days ago.
***
The next morning, flies buzzing around her face and glaring sunlight woke Abbey. She felt refreshed, and for a few moments didn’t remember the events of the previous night. It wasn’t until she stood up and noticed that she was covered in some kind of dust, that she recalled being visited by the Aboriginal women. If not for the evidence, which she brushed off her clothes, she might have thought it a dream. She noted that the sun was rising in the east, and from there worked out which way was north-east. She started walking again.
CHAPTER 5
“Mother, surely one of these girls would be suitable as a companion. They all appear to be qualified.” Jack Hawker had been in Sharp’s Employment Agency with his mother, Sybil, for nearly an hour, and she had been finding fault with every girl that Milton Sharp had on his books.
“None of them claims to have an interest in music or the theatre, and they’re all too young. I don’t think any of them will do,” Sybil grumbled. “If someone is to be my companion, we must have something in common, and what interests could I possibly share with a young woman? We have two of them in the house now with barely a brain between them, and you know how much they irritate me,” she said, referring to the house servants.
“Don’t say unkind things about Elsa and Marie, Mother. They do their best. As for these girls, it’s possible they have been exposed to the arts, but if they haven’t, it would be up to you to develop their interest,” Jack suggested. “You’ve worked with plenty of young women in the theatre, so it shouldn’t be a problem for you if you put your mind to it,” he added pointedly.
Sybil gave her son a doubtful look. “Th
e young women I taught in the city wanted to be actresses, so I didn’t have to encourage them, just guide them.”
“I agree it’s hard to get a real sense of what the girls are like from a profile, Mrs. Hawker,” Mr. Sharp said, understanding. “But if you’d like to meet a particular girl, or more than one, I’m sure it can be arranged.”
“I believe it would be a waste of time,” Sybil groused, reluctant to make a decision.
“You have to make a choice, Mother,” Jack said, losing patience. “You keep complaining that you are lonely during the day while I’m working the farm, so surely somebody would be better than nobody.”
“If I have to spend all day with her, I must be able to hold an interesting discussion with her,” Sybil stated defensively.
Sybil Hawker had been living with her son Jack at Bungaree Station for almost a year, since the death of her husband, Gerald, and she was finding the isolation of a country property intolerable. Before moving to the station, she and Jack’s father, Gerald, had been living in the city of Adelaide. There, Sybil had been very involved with a local theatre company. She’d been an actress before marrying Gerald, but had given that up to raise a family with him in London. When the boys were grown up, the family migrated to Australia, where Gerald believed there were great opportunities in farming. He leased a large parcel of land in the Clare Valley from the government and divided it up for his three sons to work as they saw fit. Sybil, however, was adamant that she and Gerald would live in the city so that she could pursue work in the theatre again. Gerald agreed, but only after spending six months helping their sons to become established farmers. At the time, Sybil felt it was the longest six months of her life.
Jack originally bought five thousand Merino sheep and planted crops on his portion of land. His brothers William and Tom had both purchased three hundred head of cattle to run on their properties, as well as small flocks of sheep. The cattle needed a much larger area to feed, especially in the summer months, and they soon discovered they didn’t have the good underground water that Jack’s Bungaree Station had, so they sometimes struggled. Between the three properties they also had one hundred and fifty horses.
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