by Téa Cooper
“Here–catch.” The purse flew through the air and landed in his outstretched hand.
“What’s this for?”
“A down payment–payment for services rendered. I’ll arrange horses for the three of you. If you come to Wordsworth after Christmas I’ll have the rest of your money.”
“Lily, I don’t want your money.” He jiggled the purse in his hands. “The money was never for me. It would have gone to the parish, to the people in Wollombi. I have never taken anything for myself. It has always gone to the parish, my way of paying back the support I receive, my small way of trying to equalize the rank injustice rife in this wretched colony.”
“In that case come and get the rest after Christmas and you can give it to them, a late Christmas present.” She gave a dismissive wave of her hand as she tried to control the sudden surge of anger flooding through her veins.
“I didn’t mean to be–”
“Contemptuous. Of course you did. But it is for the best. I know exactly where I stand. It’s agreed. The less said, the sooner we can go our separate ways.”
Chapter 9
Go our separate ways–he wouldn't have used exactly those words, then again he wouldn’t have said it at all. He was just doing what had to be done and soon it would be over. He had made his decision. He knew what he had to do and he would follow it through and wear the consequences.
If he had continued the conversation, told her about the corruption, the indignity, the hollow promises for the future, she might feel sorry for him. He didn’t want her sympathy or her pity. He didn’t want her to see him in a different light. It was better she got on with her life, filed away the last few days as an adventure she could tell her grandchildren on cold winter evenings around a blazing fire. He had nothing to offer her; a life on the road was no life for a woman–not even a woman like Lily, full of joy and adventure and more courage than he had ever seen. He couldn’t meet her expectations, he was not of her world and he had nothing to offer her. He’d left it all behind the day he sailed from Portsmouth. This last week had been nothing more than a halcyon dream, an interlude in his dirty and unpleasant reality.
Say nothing and move on. Get the job done. Leave.
And go where? Do what? Live on the road until he was too old to sit in the saddle? He shook his head. He’d work it out eventually. As they approached Sydney, Tom forced himself to concentrate on guiding the horses through the increasingly busy streets.
“We turn down here and the stables are a little further down on the left. There’ll be some paperwork to sign and after that we can leave everything in their hands.” Her voice held a steely quality he had never heard before, not even when she had raised her pistol to him.
They dismounted and Tom held Nero while he watched her retreating back, stiff and straight. She negotiated the path to a weatherboard cottage and raised her clenched fist to knock on the door. The stable master’s house, he realized. A ticket-of-leave man probably employed by Dungarven. Yet another ex-convict trying to make good, dependent on the whims of the squattocracy. His lip curled, the anger churning his stomach; thinking that way had caused him trouble in the past and undoubtedly it would again.
The door opened revealing a woman who was…not what he expected at all. Mature. Elegant. Tall, taller than Lily. Taller than him. She greeted Lily with a squeal of delight and enveloped her in an all-embracing hug. His heart clenched. Lily looked frail and fragile like a little bird. He wanted to cradle her against his chest and feel the rapid beat of her heart against his skin. He pushed his hat back on his head watching in amazement as the scene unfolded and Lily was held at arm’s length and inspected.
“Look at you!” It was a cry of pure pleasure. “We never thought we would see you again. Your father–”
“I am perfectly fine and so are the horses.” She’d turned and was walking down the path pulling the woman after her by her hand, back to him. “Aunt Emily, may I introduce Thomas Roscomon. Tom, this is Emily Bainbridge, my aunt.”
Her aunt? He removed his hat and nodded.
“I am very pleased to make your acquaintance.” Emily sketched a slight curtsey giving him the distinct impression she knew exactly the role he had played in Lily’s journey to Sydney. She turned to Lily.
“You managed to get all the horses here, and Nero?”
“Yes, they are–”
“I want to see them all, right now.”
“I’ve sent them to the stables. We need to get them rubbed down and fed. They’ve had a hard journey.”
Tom was enthralled. He had believed Lily was one of a kind but it appeared her strength and determination were genetic traits in this family. He listened to the quick decisive conversation.
“Once the horses are settled we will notify the docks and they can be loaded tomorrow. The ship sails on the evening tide.”
Lily was right she didn’t need him anymore. It was time to leave. Follow their own paths. Nevertheless he followed her and her aunt along the worn walkway to the stables where Will, Jem and Bonnie were already working on the horses.
“I’ll stay here, Lily.” Her aunt said. “You go down to the docks and make sure the paperwork is in order. I’ll see you back at the house.”
It took ten minutes to walk down to the harbormaster’s office. It took almost as long for Tom to get his head around the situation and still he wasn’t ready to leave. He remembered his first sight of Lily. How she had stepped forward and taken control of the situation. Bailed him up. He could imagine her aunt doing the same. Astounding. He shook his head, bewildered. Lily’s hand rested on the gate to the office. He grabbed hold of it. There were things he needed to get clear before he left.
“I knew from the first moment you could ride,” he said slowly. “But I never dreamed–”
She anticipated him. “I ran Dungarven Stud?” Her eyes challenged him and he had a sudden memory of a strand of native violet entwined in her hair. “And I never dreamed you were a renowned surveyor, famed explorer.”
“You never explained…” He didn’t want to talk about himself he wanted, needed to know more about Lily and the life she led.
“You knew I knew horses, knew I could handle Nero.”
The recollection of Nero rearing at her command, balanced above him made his skin go cold. “Yes, but he’s your horse. What about the breeding…I’m no expert but the bloodlines…the stud should be making a fortune.”
“It is.” She shrugged her shoulders diffidently. “At least it was, and it will do again once my father concentrates on breeding and not the bottle and the racetrack. I took over after Dom and my mother died. I had to have something to do. My father’s drinking–”
“So these horses, the remounts…”
“It was my idea. I thought if we could breed something other than racehorses, something stronger, something more useful we would be less reliant on the racetrack and Sydney society. Wordsworth would prosper and my father might regain his self esteem, his interest.”
“You said you hated your father, you wanted to escape his control.” He frowned trying to understand, to get things clear in his mind.
“I did. I do.” Her voice was gentle, patient. “I don’t intend to live under his control, however, I will never leave Wordsworth. I can never give it or the horses up. It is what I do. It is what I love. It’s my home.”
She turned back to the gate. “I think I should go and sort out the shipment and sign the paperwork.”
Dismissed. He was no longer required. It was obvious there was no room in Lily’s life for anyone else. She had her hands full with her stud, her horses and Wordsworth. Anything else would be too much but he couldn’t leave the picture unfinished; he had to see it for himself.
The harbormaster was waiting. He was a big, confident man who looked as though he could have swung aboard any of the ships in his harbor and captained them to the end of the earth.
“Miss Dungarven. Lily.” He reached out his hand his weathered face wreathed in a
welcoming smile. “It is a pleasure to see you again and no worse for your adventure, I hear.”
News travelled fast in Sydney these days, almost as fast as it did in the bush, Tom thought wryly. Was there anyone who hadn’t heard she’d been bailed up bringing a mob of horses to Sydney?
“Everything is under control. I have all the paperwork here ready to be signed. The ship sails tomorrow on the evening tide. The horses can be loaded from first light tomorrow. Your men can see to that.”
“I’d like to accompany them? See them settled.” Lily said, and Tom intercepted her gaze nodding imperceptibly. Offering his help and Will’s. He still wasn’t quite ready to leave, not just yet.
She signed the paperwork. “Thank you. The horses will be on the dock first thing tomorrow morning.” She held her hand out and a relieved grin lit up her face.
Together they left the harbormaster’s office and walked out into the Sydney sunshine. Silence. No organization. No horses. No threatening deadline. Nothing.
The sparkling harbor. The berthed schooners and clippers. In unspoken agreement they walked to the quay flanked by buildings and the hustle and bustle of The Rocks. A far cry from the wide open spaces and the freedom of the road.
A huge part of him was going to miss the easy friendship between them. Already part of it had slipped away, slipped through his fingers, as the two parts of him waged war on each other. Wanting change, wanting to be a part of society again. Wanting to come in from the outside and embrace life, however fearful of what it might bring. He had never thought of himself as a coward. Perhaps he was. “Will, Jem and I will help you get the horses to the dock tomorrow.”
“Tom, I have to ask you a question and I have to have a truthful answer. When you bailed us up on the Wollombi road did you know who I was? You addressed me by name.”
Tom searched her face. Surely she didn’t still believe he had used her to get even with her father. “I didn’t know who the mob of horses belonged to and I didn’t know who was bringing them down. I guessed who you were when I saw the ED brand on the horses.”
Her violet gaze turned to him. “So you didn’t bail us up to get even with my father because he had claimed your land?” Her face lit with her radiant smile. His heart beat a little faster against his rib cage. He looked away, determined not to fall victim to her charms–not until he had sorted out the mess that was his life.
“No, Lily. I had no intention of getting even with your father in the beginning. It was just a magnificent coincidence.”
“Magnificent. Yes it was. Thank you, Tom, thank you for everything.” His stomach still clenched at the sound of her voice, the honeyed tones redolent of wide open spaces not the hustle and bustle of Sydney Town. “You have somewhere to stay?”
“Yes, yes.” He brushed her concern away and concentrated on the decision he had made just five seconds before. “I’ve got something I have to organize…” The paperwork in his top pocket seemed to burn a brand on his chest. There was no need for an explanation. Not right now. He had decided what he was going to do and first he had to bring under control the one small voice raging in his head. The voice that continually warned him life on the road was a safe option. The threat of incarceration was more than he could tolerate but the possibility of a life without Lily loomed even larger. He took one last lingering look, hoping to imprint the picture of her upturned face in his memory. Just in case. Just in case it had to be Will and Jem who collected the ransom from Wordsworth after Christmas.
“I’m going to try and see the Governor.”
God in heaven, what had made him say that? He could not believe the words had come out of his mouth but he ploughed on regardless of the stunned expression on her face. “He probably won’t have time for me at such short notice. Might not see me at all.” He nodded with determination. His mind was made up. The nagging voice in his head was well and truly squashed. “I have to give it a try.”
“You’ll be taking your maps? Talking about the Liverpool Plains.”
“Yes.”
“And Wordsworth.”
“No. About my land grant.” Far more than just Wordsworth. Talking about a pardon and land rights and squatters and…yes, her father.
“Would you like me to come with you?”
Good God.
She glanced up at him and their eyes locked. Steely determination. Violet turned to indigo. He had seen it before, just before she jumped. He hadn’t recognized it for what it was. This time he did. A threat or a promise? She looked away.
“I would like to be there, perhaps I could help?” She sounded almost shy.
“Let me see if I can make an appointment to see the Governor. You’ll be the first to know the outcome.” She accepted his decision, and left him in control. Already he missed her involvement in his life.
“I have to go to Aunt Emily now. Fill her in on all the details and answer all the questions I know she has of me.”
He took her proffered hand, small bones with such strength and resisted the temptation to crush her in his arms one last time. With a sigh she turned and he watched her walk away. Missing her from the moment she took the first step. Seven days. Just seven days. It was the first time she had been out of his sight. Except for her mad leap over the wall.
Lily’s Leap. He would never pass that way again without the vision of her low across Nero’s neck, flying against the cobalt blue sky. He thought he had lost her then. He might well lose her and his freedom this time.
****
“And so Aunt Emily everything turned out for the best.” Lily looked out of the window watching the never ending the parade of people going about their business, the difference between the hustle and bustle of Sydney life–all the more imposing after the peace and quiet of her time at the Common. “The horses are in Sydney. Father is hopefully back at Wordsworth and Nero won his race.” She forced her lips to form a smile as she looked back at her aunt who she discovered was studying her with avid interest. “Tomorrow the horses will be on their way to India and life goes back to normal.”
“Yes.”
She made a pathetic attempt to return her aunt’s smile.
“And what of your escort?”
“You mean Tom?”
“Yes, I mean Mr. Roscomon.”
Lily sighed. “Honestly?” She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head slowly. “I don’t know.”
“You know he is a wanted man.”
Lily nodded, hating for a moment her aunt who had put voice to the very thoughts she tried constantly to ignore. “It will only be a matter of days before people put two and two together and he is recognized. Sydney might seem like a big place after Wordsworth but news gets around.”
Lily worried her lip with her teeth and frowned. “He said he was going to see the Governor.”
“The Governor?”
“He’s seeking a pardon.”
“I think you better tell me a little bit more about this man and I think we should talk to your uncle tonight.” She smiled and patted Lily’s hand. “In the meantime we shall arrange a bath for you and some clean clothes. I have no objection to those breeches for riding, however a clean dress and a bath are long overdue.” She wrinkled her nose delicately and Lily laughed. “The opportunity for a bath hasn’t presented itself in the last week, Aunt Emily. I have had other things on my mind.”
“Humph.” Her aunt’s raised eyebrow spoke volumes and Lily knew what she was thinking. And those things were not simply horses. Lily abandoned any hope of controlling the heat sweeping her face.
She stood up and her aunt’s arm wrapped comfortingly around her shoulders. “He’s a handsome man, Lily, and he’s very much in love with you.” Lily’s head jerked up at her words and unbidden her eyes filled with tears.
“Come. Time for a bath and we will discuss Mr. Roscomon with your uncle over dinner tonight.”
* * * *
“Oh. What am I going to do with the women in this family?” Her uncle dropped his handsome hea
d dramatically and raked his fingers through his shock of thick white hair. “First your mother, then your aunt and now you.”
Lily sat across the beautifully set dining table watching her aunt in the flickering light, wondering what she would have made of a meal on the veranda of the slab hut on the Common.
“Richard.” Aunt Emily reached out and patted her husband’s hand soothingly. “You know you love every single one of us and you wouldn’t have us any other way.”
“Yes my dear.” He lifted his head and his eyes crinkled in pleasure as he looked at Lily.
“All we can do is hope the Governor is prepared to see him and his knowledge, maps and measurements are of some use to the colony. I believe he may be in luck, with all the talk of opening up northern New South Wales and the proposal for the Great Northern Railway. We will have to just wait and see.”
And with that Lily had to be satisfied. She felt her chest expand and a feeling of lightheadedness. Her hand lifted to her mouth as she attempted to stifle a yawn but her aunt was far and away too observant to let it pass.
“Bedtime, my dear, and I suspect a comfortable bed and some pillows will see you asleep in no time.”
* * * *
Lily sat up and looked around her in horror. The sun streaming in through the fine lawn curtains told her it was long past dawn and the time the horses should have been loaded. She reached her hand out to the pot of tea and floral cup on the small tray on the bedside table. It was cold to her touch. She scampered from the bed searching for her riding breeches, cursing roundly at their apparent disappearance as she threw the checked silk taffeta dress over her head and shook her hair back fumbling frantically with the mass of intricate buttons. Clasping a pair of slippers in her hands she ran down the stairs barefooted.
“Good morning, Lily.”
She ignored her aunt’s greeting and panic laced her chest tighter than the hurriedly fastened buttons of her unaccustomed dress. “The horses. Are we too late? They should have been loaded hours ago.”