Copyright © 2017 AnneMarie Brear
Published 2017 by Choc Lit Limited
Penrose House, Crawley Drive, Camberley, Surrey GU15 2AB, UK
www.choc-lit.com
The right of AnneMarie Brear to be identified as the Author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher or a licence permitting restricted copying. In the UK such licences are issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency, Barnards Inn, 86 Fetter Lane, London EC4A 1EN
MOBI: 978-1-78189-339-5
EPUB: 978-1-78189-338-8
For my beautiful daughter, Eleanor Grace Whitfield,
another strong Australian woman.
Contents
Title page
Copyright information
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Epigraph
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Thank you
About the Author
More Choc Lit
Introducing Choc Lit
Preview of Where Dragonflies Hover by AnneMarie Brear
Acknowledgements
Thank you to the team at Choc Lit and also to the Tasting Panel readers who said “yes” to Where Rainbows End and made this book a possibility: Sheila S, Linda Sp, Catherine L, Jenny K, Elaine R, Hilary B, Dimi E, Isobel J, Lawan M, Toos H, Rosie F and Bruce E.
It lies not in our power to love or hate,
For will in us is over-ruled by fate.
– Marlowe, Hero and Leander
Chapter One
Sydney, Australia
October 1850
Philippa Noble lifted her face to the sun and listened to the soft murmur of the waves slapping the rocks below. A delicate breeze ruffled her hair beneath her blue bonnet. She breathed deeply, filling her lungs with air so pure it was intoxicating. The dazzling harbour was spread out before her. Beyond it the scattered buildings of Sydney hugged its coastline like a ragged lace hem on a dress.
‘Pippa, if you keep on allowing the sun to touch your face, your skin will darken, or worse, develop freckles.’ Hilary tutted and, hitching up her skirts, climbed to the bush path. ‘I’m not going any further. Your madness to explore will likely cause me a twisted ankle.’
‘Oh, do shush, Hil. The day you start moaning like Mother is the day I’ll renounce you as my twin.’ Pippa grinned, but Hilary frowned as she dusted down her pale pink skirts, so she gave up on investigating the little bay below and turned back for the dirt bush track that led from town. ‘I need a new vantage point to paint from, but I can do it another day. Shall we walk on around the headland?’ There weren’t enough hours in the day for her to discover this new strange land.
‘I think not. It is miles.’ Hilary softened her words by smiling and linking her arm through Pippa’s. ‘Perhaps we can return now and look at some shop window displays instead?’
Pippa sighed. ‘Why that gives you pleasure I have no idea. We spent this month’s allowance last month.’
‘Yours might have been, but I saved some shillings.’
‘Well, I was out of paint and charcoal.’ She shrugged one shoulder. ‘I know, let us stop by the stables and check on the horses.’
Hilary groaned. ‘We checked them yesterday. They are perfectly fine. They survived the journey from England in the ship’s hold, so I’m certain they’ll survive living in comfortable stables.’
In silent, mutual consent, they returned the way they had come. Large gangly trees, that Pippa now knew to be called eucalyptus, loomed above them in colours of grey and blue-green. The sandy track, one of many, snaked through the bushland bordering the outskirts of Sydney town and followed the contours of the wide expanse of the harbour.
‘I’ll never be tired of looking at all this,’ Pippa whispered in awe, watching a host of watercrafts of all shapes and sizes traversing the water. ‘How could anyone ever say this was the land of the forgotten?’
‘It was, though, in its infancy.’ Hilary squeezed Pippa’s hand where it rested on her arm. ‘Not everyone here arrived of their own will. Many do not appreciate it as you do.’
‘I understand you and Mother prefer England, but this country affords me opportunities I’d never have back home. Here I can breathe.’ Pippa closed her eyes in excitement. ‘I have so many plans …’
‘I know you do, dearest, but I do worry you’ll be disappointed. Standards and society still hold sway here as they do back home. You’re a woman and not as free as you’d wish, despite the distance from decent society.’
‘True, but I’ve heard of other women here who have done well for themselves, like Elizabeth Macarthur. She ran her husband’s farm while he was in England for many years. I am sad she recently died, for I would have given much to meet her and listen to her advice.’
‘Yes, but she and her husband had money and position in society. Women can only do great things if they have money, or sponsors who have money. We have little of either.’
‘Thanks to Father,’ Pippa murmured. She gazed through the trees and over the water to the dense blue-green forest on the other side. No, not forest, it’s called ‘The Bush’ here, she must remember that. She and Hilary had read numerous books before and during the voyage from England, but despite knowing Australia had been built primarily as a convict country, she had become enthralled with sketches and paintings of the dry, untamed land. Its diversity fascinated her and allowed her hope where before she had none.
‘Oh, look, Hil.’ To the side of the track, a large deep hole went at right angles under exposed tree roots. ‘I believe it is a tunnel for those fat, furry beasts.’
Hilary kept strolling. ‘Come away, Pippa, for heaven’s sake, the thing could come and attack us.’
Pippa hesitated, studying the hole’s entrance. ‘No, I don’t think they attack, not like lions or anything. I think they sleep all day …’ After another long look, she hurried to catch up. ‘I want to know everything about this country. I want to know all the animals’ names, the birds, the flowers.’
Stooping, Hilary picked a small yellow wildflower from the sparse undergrowth. ‘How can you admire it so much? Nothing is lush here. Everything is hot, dry, and dusty. You must miss England some?’
‘Not likely!’ Pippa snorted. ‘Moving from house to house around the country, never settling in one place, dodging creditors. Why on earth would I miss England?’
‘Because it’s home.’
‘Not any more. This country is our home now. Here we have a chance of bettering our lives. When the house is built and we are selling the best horseflesh in the coun
try, we’ll never have to worry again. We must believe it.’
Hilary slowed, her gaze earnest. ‘Don’t place all your hopes on Father, dearest. You know he has a … tendency to … let us down despite his good intentions.’
Pippa glanced to the right and feasted on the harbour view, trying to ignore Hil’s warning. ‘Father promised us this time would be different. We could build a home here, a future of wealth and social acceptance.’
‘I hope we do …’
‘But you aren’t confident?’
Hilary shrugged one slender shoulder. ‘I’d also like to think Father will keep his promises this time, but we know better, don’t we?’
‘Here he doesn’t have his friends to help him lose money at the card tables or the races, or to spur him to invest unwisely.’
‘His friends aren’t here, but the gambling is.’
‘I will not let him ruin everything again.’ Frustration, her old enemy, grew. Pippa strode on. ‘I’m tired of living well one minute with servants, good food, riding hunters, and then living like paupers the next after we have to sell everything we cherish to pay Father’s debts!’
‘Slow down.’
She eased her stride to suit Hil’s and gave her a wry smile. ‘Sorry. My temper gets the better of me.’
‘Don’t I know it?’ Hilary frowned. ‘Father tries hard to give us a good life, he always has. I suppose we mustn’t be too harsh, and this new start of ours has inspired him to believe in himself. We must try to do the same, it’s … it’s our duty. Poor Papa.’
Pippa swooped down to pick up a stick and walked on in silence. The family’s move to the other side of the world had surprised everyone. Immediate friends and family knew of her father’s debts, but even so, this venture seemed extreme. However, from its first conception she had championed the idea, imploring her sister and mother to take this chance of adventure. It was as though she’d been waiting her whole twenty-one years to flee their unstable life. Her father had promised a new start in a country that offered everything to those who had the courage to grab it with both hands.
Well, she had courage and she was going to grab whatever came their way. Her father couldn’t always be relied upon to keep them safe and secure, so it was up to her. She held no false illusions. Out of the family, it was commonly said she was the strongest. Oh, it’d caused talk amongst her mother’s acquaintances back home, but in this country no one knew her. Well, the Henderson family they’d travelled on the ship with knew her a little, but they weren’t important, regardless of Hilary’s and Mother’s attempt to include them in every outing they took.
No. The family’s future lay with her, not Father; he was only the figurehead, so to speak, which reminded her that she must talk with him about the money they’d brought with them. Investiture money. Money lent to them by her father’s Lindfield cousin, who inherited the family’s wealth. A flash of anger always ignited inside her when she thought of how many times they’d had to borrow money to either fund one of her father’s new ventures or to pay their debts when those ventures failed.
But not this time. This time she had demanded her say. At twenty-one, an adult in the eyes of the law, it was time to make a stand. Initially, she believed her father would condemn her rights to be involved in their financial future, but instead he’d acted relieved, as though sharing the burden deflected some of the blame. Her mother had no head for business, no inclination to help. It was easier to whine about it when it all went wrong. Hilary was sensible but lacked drive and was content to amble through life without making a ripple.
‘Are you frightened, Pippa?’ Hilary glanced at her and then stared straight ahead. The muffled sounds of the town drifted on the air and the trees thinned as houses appeared.
‘About what?’
‘Our future? Will we marry one of these colonial-born men or will all this be a spectacular failure and we’ll go home in disgrace begging for our bread?’
‘I’m tired of begging, of being humiliated.’ Pippa narrowed her eyes and stared at her sister. ‘This endeavour will not fail. I won’t allow it to. The land we buy, the stud we build will flourish because I will be involved.’
‘How can you be so sure everything will be as we wish it?’ Hilary looked at her with sympathy. ‘You are not a man.’
Pippa swore softly under breath. She hated being a woman. ‘No, I’m not a man, but that won’t stop me. Just you wait and see.’
Chapter Two
‘Gerald, please draw the curtains. I cannot suffer the sunlight another moment.’ Esther Noble waved her white, lace-edged handkerchief towards her husband. ‘To suffer such heat in late October is intolerable! Spring, they call it? More like a living hell on earth. I’ll never forgive you, Gerald, never.’
Gerald merely nodded towards the maid standing behind the sofa on which Esther reclined. Cissie, the only servant to have accompanied them on the voyage, hurried to do his wife’s bidding. He looked at his wife, who was no longer young. Her whole countenance showed her displeasure at being made to endure such heat and humidity in this foreign land. She hadn’t voiced a pleasing comment since their departure from England some hundred and twenty days earlier. She made it clear, to all who would listen, that her husband had taken leave of his senses by making his family trek to the other side of the world to a land of heat and savages.
Had she been right? He hoped in this case, and for once, she would be incorrect.
He resumed his occupation of studying the numerous maps before him. The maps were vital to his plans for building the finest horse stud in the colony. Good pastures and adequate water were a requirement. The position had to be perfect. So much depended on every decision. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He would make this project successful or die in the attempt. He couldn’t, and wouldn’t, return to England a failure.
‘And this lemon water, who can honestly say it’s cold?’ Esther held up the tall glass in her hand. ‘Nothing is ever served cold in this godforsaken place. Unless, of course, it’s our dinner.’ She rose from the sofa and paced before him like an irritable peahen.
‘I will send for more lemon water, dearest.’
She rounded on him, her small brown eyes narrowing. ‘I don’t want lemon water. I want to go home!’
Gerald gave her a grave look, tired of hearing her voice, her complaints. ‘We cannot go home.’
‘And where does that fault lie?’
Shame filled him. She did that so well, laying the blame. ‘On my shoulders.’
‘Exactly!’
‘We can have a good life here, I promise you.’
‘Huh.’ Esther puffed out her ample chest and stared him down. ‘Your promises are often empty.’
Gerald tried to smile with reassurance, but knew his expression resembled more a timid mouse caught in a cat’s paw. He must argue his point, he must. He knew she no longer respected his decisions. Therefore he had to show that this time everything would be better, that he would do better. ‘I have a good feeling about this country. I feel renewed, young once more.’
‘Young?’ Esther’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline. ‘I don’t want you young, and to repeat all the mistakes you’ve already made,’ she spat. ‘Look where that has gotten us.’
Gerald squirmed. ‘Just a figure of speech, dearest.’
‘And our daughters, where will they fit into this backward colony? How will they find good husbands of note here?’
‘Quite easily, my dear.’ Gerald relaxed, knowing he was to redeem himself with his next piece of news. ‘I have been granted an audience with the Governor of New South Wales.’
‘Really? Then let us pray to the Almighty you do not muddle it.’ Esther returned to the sofa. With the sigh of the condemned, she picked up her glasses and placed them on her nose before opening her small book of poetry. She peeped over the book. ‘When is it to be?’
‘I shall receive a summons presently, no doubt.’
Esther tutted and turned her shoulder to him.
Their depleted fortune was his fault, and as a husband and father he had failed dismally. Therefore, he should not judge poor Esther too harshly, for she had given him two beautiful and intelligent daughters, if not a son. He would have been pitied by society far more indeed if he had begotten two plain and equally stupid daughters.
Gerald rose and walked to the open window. Pushing aside the cream net curtains, he stared down at the busy street below. Thankfully, this side of the hotel was quieter than the front. This particular window held a remarkable view of the ever-growing city flowing all the way down to the great expanse of water that made up the beautiful harbour. The light breeze, captured at this first storey height, lifted Gerald’s few damp strands of hair. He brushed his hand over his bald spot and sighed. Was he too old to start again?
A noise from the door leading to the hallway diverted him. A smile lifted the corners of his mouth as his daughters, Pippa and Hilary, entered the room. Both were tall and slender, with fine bones and a gracefulness pleasing to the eye. In fact, not many a man was immune to their particular beauty and many a woman was given to envy at the sight of them.
That such loveliness was a product of himself often stunned him into silence. He had heard people whisper behind their hands at how it was a wonder that two such daughters could come from two such parents. For the Noble twins were indeed nothing like their parents. Both girls possessed thick, dark blonde hair with gold highlights that caught the light from a candle or the rays of the sun. More striking than their hair were their dusky, velvety brown eyes framed with long, thick brown eyelashes. The differences in character and temperament also caused comment.
Placing her parcels on a small table by the door, Hilary went to Esther and took her hand. ‘We rushed back from shopping because it was getting late and we thought you would worry. Are you feeling better now, Mother?’
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