Daughter of the Murray

by Darry Fraser

  ‘There is time for that when I return after this trip. I will have a clerk—Mr Bailey, I think—seek some filing, some figures to add, which would accommodate your wishes.’ He looked at her again, this time attentive.

  She smoothed the chair’s antimacassar, and huffed out her frustration. ‘Filing would not accommodate my wishes.’

  Conor pressed the folded shirts Manning had stacked on his bed into a bag. ‘One must start with simpler tasks and master them before taking on the more complex. Why the hurry now? We have discussed this.’

  ‘Because I would prefer you were honest with me sooner rather than later.’ The antimacassar scrunched in her grip.

  He narrowed his eyes at her and became still.

  Georgie positioned herself on the arm of the chair, her body rigid. ‘I have heard it said you now own Jacaranda, and have done for some time. That my Aunt Jemimah is to be removed from her home.’ Her voice, she thought, sounded calm. Placid, in fact.

  ‘Have you indeed heard that? And you are upset by it.’ He hesitated before reaching to the floor and throwing a pair of riding boots into another bag. ‘Well, it is true. I go there in two weeks after business on the river at Swan Hill.’

  ‘You didn’t think to tell me yourself?’ She stood up and moved in front of him as he packed.

  He stepped around her. ‘Clearly you already know.’ He shot her a look. ‘What does this discussion hope to achieve? I own it. It is part of Foley’s River Carriers, now. A landing along the river to safely tie up.’

  To calm herself, she looked around the room at his big bed, at the masculine accoutrements of leather and timber, and inhaled scents of tobacco and rum.

  ‘And you did not buy it.’

  He grunted. ‘I acquired it legally.’ He stalked past her to grab a hat.

  ‘Why would you even want it?’ Her voice was beginning to sound shrill.

  ‘It was an opportunity, and I took it. That’s what I do. As I said, it’s a safe place to tie up.’ He flicked her a glance.

  Georgie felt the feathery slide of goose bumps on her arms. ‘Where are they to go?’

  ‘That is not my concern.’ He stopped in front of her. ‘Nor yours.’

  She squared her shoulders. ‘But it is, Conor.’

  He pointed at her. ‘I am being patient, Georgina. I want no repeat of the episode before we were married.’

  Episode? Georgie barely blinked as he reminded her of his vitriolic, violent outburst.

  ‘So I will tell you this,’ he continued. ‘I offered MacHenry reparation, which he refused, and yet I paid his outstanding debts. I could do no more.’ He turned his back.

  ‘You could have paid him out instead of just beating him at cards.’ Her voice rose, and her hands prickled as she stepped carefully, gauging his mood.

  ‘That’s not how gambling with cards works. He got what the place was worth. Almost nothing, after his neglect.’ He stood over her. ‘And who told you of this? Jemimah? I think not.’ He turned back to his packing.

  Georgie followed. ‘But you won this game before we were married.’

  He straightened. ‘There are many things you don’t know about, before and after our wedding. They are not necessary for you to know.’

  ‘I might not have made the decision to marry you had I known that.’ She shook with contained rage, her voice tight, her jaw clenched.

  His eyes narrowed again and Georgie felt a cold brush of air glide over her neck.

  His gaze locked on hers. ‘We will never know, will we, my dear Georgie, for you are married to me now. And unless you’d prefer to be destitute and degraded, living in the streets, begging for your next meal, you will remain so.’ He tilted his head a little. ‘I don’t believe for a moment you would want otherwise,’ he said softly. ‘Those new laws you so love to speak of would not save you. You brought nothing to this marriage to take away.’

  Georgie bit her cheeks at the thinly veiled threat. She held his gaze, though her heartbeat thudded in her temples. She exhaled quietly. ‘How will I know that you’ll ever tell me the truth now?’

  ‘Whatever you ask me I will tell you the answer truly.’ Conor’s face had flushed. His scowl deepened.

  ‘That supposes I know which questions to ask.’

  ‘Precisely. Do not presume that your conditions to marriage entitle you to more than I am prepared to give.’

  The cold slide of air wisped over her throat again. She sucked in a breath. ‘You deliberately concealed from me information which deeply embarrasses me—’

  ‘You could not wait to be rid of the place, Georgina. Especially as MacHenry saw fit to squander your father’s allowance to you. Why should you care?’

  ‘I care because Jemimah was very kind to me. She deserves better. She deserves more for her time and effort. It was her home!’ Georgie breathed out the anger before it overpowered her. ‘You should be open and honest with me, not omitting things and believing you haven’t told a lie. How much more deceit and manipulation is in store for me?’

  ‘Oh, none from me.’ He didn’t look at her. Instead, he pointed to a purse on his bedside dresser. ‘And there, that is filled with coin for you to do with as you see fit while I’m away this time. You see how comfortable you are here, my dear.’ He gave a little smile, and a flop of red hair fell over his forehead. ‘Anything else, you have authority to purchase on my accounts.’

  She stared at him. ‘That just fobs me off. There is more to discuss about this.’

  ‘There is not. I have done much of what you asked of me, but my business dealings are my own.’ He went to the back of the door and pulled a coat from the hook. ‘I had just a moment ago thought I’d stay another night before leaving, but perhaps it is better I leave today.’

  She willed herself to be still. ‘Conor, I’m asking you to sign the deed to Jacaranda back to Uncle Tom. See the solicitor before you leave.’

  ‘I will be seeing my solicitor—I already have an appointment. That is a truth for you. But I will not sign Jacaranda back to MacHenry, even if he would take it.’

  She met his gaze squarely.

  ‘Enough!’ Conor took a step closer to her. He spoke softly, eerily calm. ‘Now, I am to be gone for some time, Georgie. Let’s kiss and make up before I go. Perhaps, if we did, I would stay that extra night after all.’ He dropped his coat on the bed, held out a hand and took one of hers.

  She hesitated. ‘You keep secrets from me.’

  ‘Aye.’ He lifted her hand. ‘And who told you of Jacaranda?’

  She maintained her gaze but shook her head.

  He pressed her hand to his lips, caressed her neck with his other hand then brushed her mouth with his. ‘So it seems, my dear Georgie, you also keep secrets from me.’

  Twenty-Two

  Georgie let the newspaper fall into her lap as she looked out at the garden. She had been Mrs Conor Foley for only a couple of months, and in that time she and her husband had barely had more than a few weeks together.

  She leaned back in her seat and shuddered a little, recalling the argument that spilled the day before he left this time. She’d brushed away thoughts of leaving and instead had turned her mind to the positive things she could do.

  This morning she’d been reading of the ‘Monster Petition’ she’d signed in the city gardens all that time ago. The right for women to vote had been defeated in the Legislative Council. Miss Goldstein would be bitterly disappointed, but Georgie was sure the parliament had not seen the last of the fight for women’s franchise, for the suffrage movement.

  Her brother-in-law, Angus, would tease her mercilessly when he learnt of the defeat. Kate and Angus Forrestor had married and moved to their new home in Hawthorn, so Georgie was finally sole mistress of Conor’s great house. Now that Kate was not looking over her shoulder every minute of the day, Georgie started to make plans.

  The first thing she did the day Conor left was to write to Jemimah once again. Georgie had gleaned from him that the family still lived on Jacar
anda as they hadn’t as yet secured other lodgings. She begged Jemimah to answer, swearing she had no knowledge of the card game that saw Jacaranda lost.

  In the meantime, she would purchase her own horse. She missed MacNamara keenly. Missed the daily ritual of his grooming. Missed how that habit had kept her thoughts ordered and her heart calm. There were stables on the property. Though Conor had relented from his stoic insistence she forget about her horses and leave finding a horse to him, no purchase had yet been made, so she would do that herself. Buttons knew exactly where to take her.

  The closed door to Conor’s office beckoned on more than one occasion. He had not yet begun to teach her any part of the business. She found advertisements in the newspapers for courses in bookkeeping and would enrol herself into whatever was available. Angus, although he hadn’t offered to assist in any such thing, had inadvertently pointed out two or three colleges that would offer her education.

  She poured the last of the tea into her cup. Life with Conor would be comfortable—they were financially secure—but it might also be peaceful and whole if she herself was at least gainfully occupied, and not just a showpiece.

  One other area of their lives together worried her. There was something very much missing from the physical side of their relationship. According to Josephine, there was the extra act of penetration yet to be performed, when the gentleman would insert the stiff, hard part of his private anatomy—which grew on contact with a female, a most extraordinary phenomenon—into the secret warmth of his wife’s body.

  Georgie knew how horses did it—she could not imagine that was how humans did it, with all that shrieking and screaming—and how other farm animals mated. As much as it had seemed unsavoury to Georgie, she was now curious as to why the particular part of Conor’s body that should have been stiff and hard had never been so when they were together. He’d explained it was the result of an injury, and that he was hopeful of a full recovery, given he now had a beautiful wife to comfort him. And as he didn’t know how much time would be needed, it was a good thing they didn’t want children.

  Nevertheless, the attention Conor lavished on her body when they fell together in bed was certainly satisfying.

  The other perplexing thing was that he would take leave of her soon after their lovemaking, gruff and dismissive, and disappear into his own bedchamber. Next she would often hear what she thought was an anguished grunt. When questioned, Conor would only say he’d had to attend his injury.

  Georgie needed someone like Josephine around with whom to discuss these matters.

  Wonderful gifts of English crystal and china had arrived from Papa Rupert. Beautiful clothes, including a most handsome riding suit complete with a split skirt, delighted her, and spoke volumes of Rupert’s delight as well. The day his parcel arrived, Georgie admired herself in her new riding outfit in front of the mirror. She was more determined than ever to have her own horse again. It turned her thoughts to the lazy days at Jacaranda that had come to an abrupt halt just before she married Conor.

  How had she not realised she loved the mallee country, and the river that gave it life? Now she missed it sorely.

  Memories of Jacaranda always led her to thinking about the other MacHenry, the one who sent her heart a-skittering, and she tried to push him away.

  Dane’s last bruising words to her at her wedding reception were the ones she found hardest to dismiss. When she and Conor were in each others’ arms, his face pressed to her breast, she would blush hotly and struggle against the warmth that curled in her belly for Dane MacHenry.

  She shook herself out of her reverie, immediately dismissing the turmoil that followed whenever she thought of Dane. It would do her no good to continue to think of another man now that she was married. No good. No benefit to her whatsoever.

  So why, oh why, do thoughts of him continue to quicken my heart?

  Impatient with herself, she stood up and dropped the newspaper beside her chair. Pacing in front of the window, movement outside caught her eye: Kate and Angus’s sulky driving up to the house. Delightful! Her sister-in-law and her husband were very welcome company. She hadn’t seen Kate for weeks it seemed, and when Conor left for his business trips, there were very few people Georgie ever got to see outside of the staff.

  Rushing to the door, she kissed each of them in greeting. She ordered more tea to be served in the morning room, which overlooked the garden Kate had once so lovingly tended. The bright and sunny, yet cool Melbourne morning bathed the grounds with a pale golden glow.

  ‘My dear, we’ve had another invitation from Angeline. She wants us to take tea with her tomorrow at her home.’ Kate sipped from her delicate china cup.

  One did not refuse an invitation to tea from Mrs John Cawley, but Georgie was hesitant. ‘Yes, of course, how lovely.’

  Mrs Cawley had unnerved her at the reception by bringing Dane as her escort, and ever since, she was always uncomfortable in the older woman’s presence. At every invitation, Georgie became increasingly uneasy, and there had been quite a few in the weeks since her wedding. She absently twisted the heavy band on her finger, then reached for her cup of tea.

  Angus groaned.

  Georgie wanted to groan, too.

  ‘Another invitation, Katie? I can’t keep up with all the socialising you ladies do,’ he said. ‘What on earth do you find to talk about?’ He was standing by the mantelpiece over the fire, sipping tea, into which he’d sloshed a tot of rum from the bottle on the sideboard. ‘Georgina, before we get lost in such riveting conversation, when is your husband due to return?’

  ‘Some weeks away, now, Angus.’

  ‘I have to catch up with him on some legal matters.’

  ‘I could consult his diary … ’ Georgie placed her cup and saucer on her side table, ready to go to Conor’s study, ‘ … but in the meantime, perhaps I could help you if you simply needed—’

  ‘No, no. Thank you all the same. I’m sure half of these matters Conor keeps in his head, anyway. We’ll attend to it ourselves. Right—I’m going over to Domain Road to check the stables with O’Brien.’

  Georgie turned to Kate. ‘I would so love to visit the stables. Let’s go, too.’

  ‘Oh, no, my dear.’ Her sister-in-law looked alarmed.

  ‘No, Georgina,’ Angus hurriedly said, backing his wife. ‘Now, I’ll be back in an hour or so.’ He swallowed the last of his tea, excused himself and left a peck on his wife’s cheek.

  Georgie watched him leave. Perhaps it was not wise to bring her in-laws into her plans.

  Kate took her hand. ‘Perhaps we’ll go out somewhere. We could take the sulky and make an afternoon of it, visiting all sorts of places.’

  Georgie nodded absently. Perhaps Conor had not informed his sister about his change of heart regarding a horse for her. And why would he? She and Buttons would find a suitable horse.

  ‘The sulky. Hardly an exhilarating ride.’

  Kate brushed her aside. ‘Georgina, I fear you’re becoming like those new types of women I’ve read about recently—the kind who want to do more than sit at home and have babies.’

  Georgie hid a grimace. ‘Of course I am.’ And as there wasn’t a baby in sight and she knew there wouldn’t be, fending off the hints and the prodding was becoming more than tedious. She stuck to her subject. ‘I already am one of those types. Lots of women ride, they do at least that much, and many women work outside the home.’

  Kate went on as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘And Angeline always shows immense interest in your welfare, which is wonderful, so afternoon tea there tomorrow will be delightful for you. You have the best introduction to society here.’

  The conversation at Mrs Cawley’s afternoon teas could sometimes be quite lively, especially when Georgie began to talk of suffrage. Interesting conversation would range from politics in England and at home—which surprised and delighted Georgie—to babies, children and husbands. Inevitably, Mrs Cawley would talk of her grown-up family, of Reuben and his wife and children, and
of course Reuben’s best friend, Dane MacHenry.

  Georgie would try hard not to squirm.

  There was no excuse she could muster to avoid going to afternoon tea at Mrs Cawley’s home. So she would sit stoically as she had done before and hope her discomfort would not be obvious.

  Kate reached for another tiny piece of cake. ‘So, tea on Wednesday. And when Conor returns, you might be able to take a short holiday.’ She smiled.

  ‘Yes, perhaps.’ Georgie laced her fingers. ‘Apparently he has bought a small house in Port Fairy. We might visit once the purchase has settled. I think he’s also buying some transport there, bullocks and drays—the Western Districts are very lucrative, and he wants to be a part of the trade.’

  ‘What—finish with the river?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know about that. Add to his companies, I should think. Broadening his horizons, finger in every pie, that sort of thing.’ Georgie laughed, and noted Kate had a keen eye on her. It was rare she laughed aloud. Probably too much time on my own, she mused.

  Kate reached across and squeezed Georgie’s hand. ‘My dear, are you all right?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  Leaning back, Kate said, ‘I thought you might be feeling a little bit lonely with Conor away so often.’

  ‘I know I’d be more useful if he let me learn about his businesses. I know I could do quite a lot to help him—’

  Kate cut her short. ‘Georgina, we women don’t need to work like the men.’

  ‘But they have such exciting lives, Kate. They do what they like. I haven’t been out for a ride in … oh, I don’t know how long. There’s no fresh air in the house, someone else tends the gardens … It’s very exasperating.’

  ‘You must do something about that. Take up a charity.’

  Georgie shook her head, felt her loosely pinned hair threatening to tumble down over her shoulders. She put a hand up to steady it, poking pins back in here and there. ‘I am going to purchase my own horse in the next few days. That will help.’