by Téa Cooper
“Sssh. Be calm. Put your slippers on and come with me.” Her aunt led her through the open door and out to the garden pointing to the ship moored at the quay, the final inventories being checked, gangplanks stored and sailors swarming up the rigging to prepare the sails.
“It’s done. You were sleeping so soundly and I hadn’t the heart to disturb you. Will, Jem and Bonnie helped. Everything is in order.”
“Tom?” She looked enquiringly at her aunt who shook her head slowly an expression of disappointment on her face.
“Tom didn’t return from the Governor’s last night. This was delivered this morning.”
She picked up the folded paper her aunt offered, walked to the garden seat and sank down.
“I’ll leave you to read it. Come inside when you are ready and tell me what it says.”
With shaking hands she unfolded the scrap of paper the patter of her heart reverberating in her throat.
Lily
My apologies for being unable to assist you this morning. I have agreed to remain under guard and I will be taken to Cockatoo Island to await the Governor’s pleasure. He will debate my situation tomorrow with his advisors and I must provide evidence to an enquiry. I ask you to honor your commitment and provide Will and Jem with horses to enable them to leave Sydney. I do not wish them to be penalized by my decision.
I hope it is in your heart to think well of me.
Until we meet again I remain yours truly
Thomas Roscomon.
She wiped the tears away from her eyes and looked out across the harbor, the beauty of the day and the sparkling water making a mockery of the darkness shrouding her heart. Why hadn’t he allowed her to go with him? She folded the piece of paper over and over until it was small enough to tuck in the bodice of her dress. What if the authorities decided to hold him for trial? Even an enquiry could take weeks, months, even years. She shuddered at the miserable thought. Why, oh why hadn’t they simply returned to the Common? Suddenly she was no longer sure that Wordsworth and the horses were as important to her as she had thought. Wasn’t Tom and the love she had for him worth more than any stud stallion, no matter how well bred?
Her aunt’s hand on her shoulder broke her reverie.
“Is it bad news?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. He is being sent to Cockatoo Island, the Governor will discuss the matter tomorrow. Until then we know nothing. He wants me to make sure Will and Jem get horses and leave Sydney as soon as possible. I don’t think he’s holding out much hope.” Lily clamped her back teeth together and she closed her eyes holding back the tears
“Bonnie is here. She wants to talk with you. Are you able?”
Lily nodded her agreement and wiped her eyes with shaking fingertips. “Yes I’d like to see her,” she said as her aunt left the room with a calm, measured step.
“Bonnie,” Lily sobbed as the familiar arms wrapped around her. “He’s turned–”
“I’ve heard Lily. I am so terribly sorry.”
“It’s all my fault.” Lily’s words came out in a rush tumbling all over one another in her attempt to make sense of Tom’s note. “I should have stopped him from coming to Sydney. What if he is forced to stand trial? Cockatoo Island is dreadful. What if he is sent to Macquarie Harbor or worse Norfolk Island or–” Her voice caught as fresh tears streamed down her face “–or hung?” She gulped back her tears and her voice rose an octave to an uncharacteristic squeak.
“What are you going to do?” Bonnie asked putting her arms around Lily’s quaking shoulders.
“I don’t know. What I can do? Stay here and wait and see what happens.”
“I think not,” her aunt interrupted as she returned. “I’ve spoken to your uncle and he is already collating information. He knows of several people who he believes will speak in Tom’s favor. I think it would be best if you returned to Wordsworth.”
“No. I’m not going. I’m staying here. The last thing I want to do is see my father and watch him gloat.” She shuddered. “George will be there. I am staying in Sydney until we have an answer. That is if you will have me?” She looked at her aunt’s face beseechingly.
“Bonnie, what of you? What will you do? Return to Wordsworth?” Her aunt asked. “Your mother must be frantic. You are very welcome to stay here, of course.”
“Thank you, but no.” Bonnie pulled Lily closer and touched her gently on the cheek wiping away a tear. “I came to say goodbye.” She looked almost apologetic as Lily lifted her head and stared at her. “Will and Jem are returning to the Common and if you will be so kind as to provide me with a horse too, I intend go with them.”
Lily lips lifted in a small smile as her arm went around her friend. A week ago she would have counseled against it. Now all she could feel was a painful stab of jealousy. She forced herself to concentrate and share her friend’s obvious delight knowing how happy she would be if she had been brave enough to suggest the same option. “Oh, Bonnie. Of course you can have a horse, and anything else you need if you are sure it is what you want to do.”
“Yes, Lily. It is what I want; it’s what we both want.” Bonnie’s eyes were bright and her face turned a pretty pink. “Will has asked me to marry him. We will return to the Common and await Tom’s verdict and when he is cleared we will marry and settle in Wollombi.”
Lily wiped away her tears and smiled buoyed by Bonnie’s conviction that Tom would be cleared. “Oh Bonnie. I am so happy for you.” She wished she could be as positive of the outcome of Tom’s situation as Bonnie. At least there would be one happy ending in all of this tragedy. “When are you leaving?”
“As soon as possible, if you can provide me with a horse. Will and Jem don’t want to spend any more time than necessary in Sydney and once word gets out about how Tom…” She paused and wrinkled her mouth.
“Has handed himself in.” Lily finished for her. “You’re right. You need to leave as soon as possible. I’ll let you know the moment I hear anything.” She accepted one last hug and patted her friend on the shoulder. “Take care and good luck.”
If only she had the courage to give up everything for love. She had left it too late and her dreams of running Wordsworth had intervened. Why couldn’t she have just said to Tom what was in her heart, what she wanted to say? Fresh tears splashed down her cheeks as she watched Bonnie walk down the path with a skip in her step. She murmured the words etched in her heart, the words she hadn’t had the courage to say to Tom.
I will go wherever you want me to go as long as we are together.
****
Tom sat in the long boat watching the muscled arms of the six convicts as they drew the oars through the sparkling waters of Sydney Harbor heading for Cockatoo Island. The convicts’ years of heavy manual labor made light of the trip, but Tom shuddered at the thought of what lay ahead. The sun beat down on the top of his head and he tilted his face upward wondering when he would next feel its warmth and see the vast cobalt sky.
Cockatoo Island rose up in front of them; the convict built stone barracks dominating the small rocky outcrop in the very middle of the harbor. Even from a distance he could see the prisoners shackled by leg irons–some of them waist deep in the water lugging the stones and chiseling the steps to complete the newly designed dock. A project of the Governor’s, they said. He grinned–it appeared the Governor was keen on a number of projects for the colony. He could only hope he would be equally interested in what he had to offer. He patted his pocket and his stomach lurched for a moment as he remembered he was no longer carrying his papers and maps, they had been delivered to Lily’s uncle, and once Jem and Will collected everything from The Settler’s Arms, they would hand it too, lock, stock and barrel, over for safe keeping, insurance in case his incarceration stretched on or the important documents were stolen.
The new colony liked to make use of its islands–perfect prisons to reduce the risk of escape. His horror of Norfolk Island hadn’t diminished and the reputation of the brutality on Sarah Island
isolated in the middle of Macquarie Harbor did little to contradict his fears. The hellhole that was Cockatoo Island was probably the best of a bad bunch.
He gazed around, debating the possibility of escape. Lily would definitely be game. He undoubtedly had one advantage in that he was a strong swimmer, however, the prospect of the notoriously shark-infested waters of Sydney Harbor made his blood run cold and he’d need someone waiting on the shore with a fast horse if he made it that far.
What he wouldn’t give for Lily to be waiting on the foreshore with Nero and that lovely gray remount leaving all this pain and anguish behind them. The picture of them riding off together firmed his resolve. Lily was worth more to him than the loss of a few days freedom, he had to stay positive and when the Governor saw what he had to offer he had no doubt he would receive a pardon. Information and knowledge were a valuable currency.
The long boat bumped against the stone wharf and he was bundled unceremoniously ashore to the sandstone guardhouse hoping against hope his stay would be a short one.
****
Not long past sunrise the following day after a sleepless night incarcerated in a smelly vermin infested cell with a group of angry inmates, Tom answered as his name was called from the muster roll. He fell in line only to be removed and escorted to a room in the officers’ barracks where the Water Police Magistrate greeted him and his interrogation began.
Hour after hour, question after question Tom painfully described his background, how he had come to leave England, his qualifications, and his employment by the Surveyor General’s Office, the routes they had taken and the terrain they had crossed. Once his testimony had been heard he was returned to the barracks and the interminable wait began.
Chapter 10
“Lily, as much as your uncle and I love having you here, I do think it is time you returned to Wordsworth.”
Lily groaned and shook her head slowly. A perpetual headache had plagued her for the last week and it surged with renewed force through her temples. She reached to the back of the chair for support. “I can’t leave Sydney, not yet not until I know…” The pathetic sound of her voice made her stop mid-sentence. Her incapacity and weakness disgusted her but it seemed the sun had left her universe and everything was cloaked in a dull gray mist.
“These things take time, darling, and there is nothing you can do here. You need to return. Your father needs you.”
A puff of air escaped from between Lily’s lips at the mention of her father. Any commitment she owed him had been buried somewhere around the Windsor racetrack.
“And if he doesn’t need you, the property does, your horses do. Whatever the outcome you have a business to run and it is nearly Christmas. You must face your father, sort out your differences and come to some financial arrangement. If you don’t, you stand to lose Wordsworth.”
“I don’t care.” Lily stamped her foot and saw the fleeting smile cross her aunt’s face.
“You do and that’s the first spark of life I have seen in you for over a week so don’t try and pretend that you don’t.”
“It’s days and days of travel and I can’t face another journey.” The tears pooled in her eyes. “Along the same road.” She gulped back the perpetual sobs threatening to erupt yet again.
“You don’t need to travel the Great North Road home. You can take the overnight steamer to Morpeth. Once there you can hire a horse and arrange a companion and ride to Wordsworth from Morpeth. The journey will be over before you know it.”
She leaned her head against her aunt’s shoulder and nodded slowly.
“Yes, you’re right. You will get word to me as soon as you know anything. You promise?”
“Yes, darling. Of course. This is one of the very few occasions where I would counsel leaving the matter entirely in your uncle’s hands. He has the contacts and he is best able to advise both Tom and the Governor. He’s already had a meeting with the magistrate who interviewed Tom on Cockatoo Island.”
Lily pulled away and stared out of the window over the sparkling harbor, wishing she could at least see Cockatoo Island or better still get a message to Tom.
“There is a steamer leaving tonight so you can be back at Wordsworth in no time, or if you prefer, break the journey in Morpeth and travel home a few days later.”
Her aunt was right and she couldn’t spend the rest of her life moping over something beyond her control. She squared her shoulders–it was time to go home and face her father.
* * * *
Lily drew Nero to a shuddering halt and raised her hand to her forehead shading her eyes from the mid-afternoon sun. Sweat trickled down her back and the heat sizzled across the paddocks, the grass already burned to a dusty gold. It would be a long hot summer and she was thankful for the fodder stored in the shed, without it the horses would lose condition. She had a commitment to the agisted mares and their owners. It was small comfort, but her prediction at the Windsor Races had been correct and Nero was in great demand for stud services. People were beating a path to the door requesting stud services and fighting to purchase any animal sporting the ED brand and offered for sale.
She slid out of the saddle and made her way to the edge of the river. The mighty Hunter River was little more than a brook compared to the raging torrent the Hawkesbury had been when they had swum the horses across. It had been six long weeks since she had left Sydney and returned to Wordsworth and the routine of the life she had been so determined to maintain. Her aunt and uncle had been unusually quiet and her letters to them had only resulted in the briefest of notes handed from traveler to traveler to say everything was ‘progressing’.
She slapped her riding crop against her saddle in frustration and Nero pranced in the shallows of the water sending crystal droplets spraying across the river. What did ‘progressing’ mean? It could mean Tom was progressing on his way to Norfolk Island, it could mean he was still incarcerated on Cockatoo Island or it could mean he was living in luxury at Government house.
Bending down she collected a handful of small pebbles, and scrutinized them carefully as she chose the flattest three and skimmed them across the river, counting the skips they made. She smiled, remembering Tom lying on his back on a bed of eucalyptus leaves, his chest rising and falling as though he hadn’t a care in the world. His lashes resting like dark fans on his tanned cheekbones. Her heart contracted. It was a far happier picture than the torment of the thought of him shackled in leg irons. It was ridiculous. She had no idea what had happened to Tom or what the Governor might or might not have said.
Shaking her hair from her face, she forced herself to think logically and cling to the knowledge she would have heard if he had been sentenced and transported. It would have been reported in the Maitland Mercury or her aunt would have notified her. She’d had no response to the numerous letters she had sent him. The frustration from the lack of knowledge hung like a pall over her bleaching any sense of enjoyment out of her life. She kicked through the shallow water washing the dust from her boots. Memories of their seven days on the road tormented her every waking moment. She could recall so clearly every moment of those days from the very first when she had set eyes on him sitting astride a heap of crow-bait to their unsatisfactory parting in Sydney. She shivered at the memory of his first touch, how she had tried so hard to blot out the sensations he evoked, the sight of his beloved face as a smile lit it was etched in the deepest crevasses of her soul, his even white teeth and the tanned creases around his dark eyes a road map of their love.
She felt the heat warm her face as she remembered the way she had shamelessly clung to him after she had leapt the convict wall. The pent up emotion and thrill of the ride stirring her blood to an uncontrollable frenzy. The feel of his strong thigh between her legs as he had pulled her astride him and the rush of warmth between her legs and the imprint of his arousal against her belly. And his furious retort as they both fought to repress their instant attraction. She chuckled to herself knowing now the force of that attraction had sh
aken them both equally from the very first moment they had touched.
Nevertheless matters now were out of her hands and she had to move forward. She turned and clambered up the bank and sat in the shade watching Nero as he snuffled and snorted in the water. Conversely, the past few weeks had brought her closer to her father than she had ever been. In the unnatural hiatus of uncertainty they had managed to forge a truce and arrive at tentative agreements. His drinking had slowed and he was even beginning to show interest in the possibilities Nero’s win had opened up. He had agreed they should aim to send another group of remounts next year. They had received payment for the first shipment and now Lily was legitimately in control of her own money her father had had no option but to acquiesce to her decisions. He had even accepted the fact she no longer wanted George on the property and when she had arranged an offer of employment at another property he had reluctantly agreed.
She smiled as she remembered the last letter she had received from Bonnie. She sounded so happy and content talking of the vegetable garden she had planted at the Common and the fruit trees she hoped would survive the hot summer.
If the intervening weeks had proved anything to her it was the knowledge she had made a mistake. She wished with every fiber of her being she had been brave enough and had the courage of her convictions as Bonnie had to turn her back on her home, her inheritance and her horses and ride off with Tom to embrace a life on the road.
* * * *
The gray stallion tossed his head and sidestepped like a skittish colt still full of vim and vigor despite the hard ride from Wollombi.
“Easy, Graybeard,” Tom said as he stilled the horse with a gentle pressure of his thighs and a calming stroke of the dappled neck. From his vantage point atop the hill he could see the twisting path of the Hunter River flickering in the afternoon heat haze and the rich green alluvial river flats melding to yellow and a dusty brown in the distance. The summer heat had taken its toll on the landscape and feed would be in short supply unless there was rain.