‘Still, he hasn’t stopped me seeing you yet,’ Lizzie said. ‘Perhaps he won’t. I just wish we could get more time alone. We’re with other people all the time.’
That gave Frank a warm feeling. They crossed the stream where it ran over some rocks, and it seemed natural for him to take Lizzie’s hand to help her across. Somehow it didn’t seem necessary to let go of her hand afterwards. They were well out of sight of the house, and Bill was a dim figure in the next paddock. He had his back to them, anyway.
Jessie had a roan filly, a miniature copy of herself, standing beside her. The filly was skittish, and when they tried to approach she shied away. They left mother and daughter in peace and walked a little way along the creek bed to where there was a flat stone large enough for the two of them to sit on. They were now below the level of the paddocks, and out of sight of Bill.
‘Lizzie, is it all right if I…’ Frank began, then her face was suddenly so close to his that he knew he did not need to ask permission. He put his arms around her very carefully and pressed his lips to hers. She smelt deliciously of soap and roast meat.
‘Don’t you wish we could do this more?’ Lizzie said when they stopped to take a breath.
‘I sure do.’ Frank moved to kiss her again, but Lizzie spoke just as he was about to, making him jerk his head away at the last moment.
‘We hardly ever get any time alone. This is the first time we’ve had the chance to do this since the dance.’
‘I know,’ Frank said, wondering why she wanted to waste the chance by talking. He reached for her again, but once again Lizzie spoiled the moment.
‘I hope you don’t think I’m awful, Frank.’
‘What?’ he said in confusion. ‘Why would I think that?’
‘Because I’m letting you kiss me without knowing what your intentions are.’
‘You’re not exactly letting me right now, Lizzie,’ he said, trying once more to kiss her.
‘Do you? Do you think I’m awful? Do you think I’m a loose woman?’ she demanded.
‘No! I think you’re really, really nice.’
‘That’s because I’m letting you do this.’ She sounded close to tears. ‘I’ve heard of men who take advantage of girls and kiss them and things, then after they’ve ruined the girl’s reputation they go off with someone else. You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?’
‘Of course I wouldn’t. I don’t want anyone else, Lizzie.’
‘How can I know that? Oh, Pa would be so upset if he knew I’ve let you kiss me when you’ve never said anything. I’d better go back to the house now.’ She rose abruptly. ‘I don’t know when I’ll see you again, Frank—alone like this, I mean. Maybe I’d better not see you.’
Frank wasn’t sure exactly how it had happened, but he knew he had upset her. And Lizzie was always so nice; she was warm and soft, and she seemed to like being with him. She never laughed at him, no matter how much anyone else did. Now she didn’t want to see him any more; no, she did want to, but she was worrying over whether he really cared about her.
Suddenly Frank realised he did care; Lizzie mattered more to him than anything had for a very long time. He had to find some way of showing her that. If he let her walk away now he knew he might never have this chance again. ‘Wait, Lizzie,’ he said, standing up and taking her by the hand. She turned to face him, and he could see tears in her eyes. ‘Maybe… maybe we should get married.’
Lizzie’s eyes grew wide. ‘Oh, yes, Frank! Yes, I’d love to!’ She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly. They stood locked in each other’s arms, blissfully unaware of Bill, smiling broadly as he watched them from the next paddock.
25
June – July 1884
‘Sitting out here by yourself again,’ Lizzie said when she found Amy on the stump next morning. ‘At least I know where to find you now.’
Amy straightened a little from her hunched position. ‘I come out here most mornings. It’s nice and quiet.’
Lizzie was about to sit down beside her when she stopped, reached out and touched the top of the stump. ‘Amy, that’s damp where you’re sitting! It rained last night and it’s too cold today to dry things out.’
‘It’s only a tiny bit damp. It’s drier than the ground, anyway.’ Amy managed to suppress a small cough.
‘Come on, up you get. We’ll go for a little walk instead.’ Lizzie took her arm. ‘Are you shivering?’ she asked when they had walked a few steps.
‘A little bit. I feel warmer now I’m not sitting still.’ This time a cough slipped out despite her efforts, and Lizzie looked at her anxiously.
‘You should take care of yourself better. You don’t want to get ill. Have you got a flannel petticoat on?’
‘No,’ Amy admitted.
‘How many petticoats are you wearing?’
‘Just one. My dress is a bit tight if I wear more than one.’
‘Amy, you’ll freeze! You need a flannel petticoat in this weather.’
‘I know. I’ll see if I can let this dress out tonight.’
Lizzie pursed her lips. ‘So you still haven’t told Uncle Jack?’
‘Not yet. It didn’t work out this morning, he seemed busy. Maybe I’ll tell him tomorrow.’
‘I don’t think you’re going to tell him.’
‘I am, I am!’ Amy said, trying to sound confident. ‘I know I’ve got to. It has to be the right time, though. It’s got to be a day when he’s not too busy, and Susannah’s not grumpy, and when I feel…’
‘When you feel what?’
‘When I feel brave enough.’ Amy shut her eyes tightly for a moment to keep the tears at bay.
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to tell him?’
‘Yes. It’s my job to.’ Amy could see from Lizzie’s face that her cousin was working herself up to a decision. ‘Lizzie, you mustn’t say anything to Pa.’
‘I think I’d better tell Ma,’ Lizzie said. ‘I’ll tell her, then she can tell Pa, and he’ll tell Uncle Jack.’
‘No! No, Lizzie, you mustn’t.’
Lizzie continued as if Amy had not spoken. ‘Yes, that’s the best way. It’d be better for your pa to hear it from a man. It’ll be easier for me to tell Ma than Uncle Jack, anyway.’
‘No, please don’t tell Aunt Edie. Please.’ Amy’s hand clutched convulsively at Lizzie’s sleeve. ‘I’ve got to tell Pa myself. I’ve got to be there to try and explain it to him. He won’t understand if someone else tells him.’ Amy could picture her uncle breaking the news to her father; she was quite sure he would be incapable of softening the blow. ‘I have to do it myself. You mustn’t. You mustn’t.’ Her lungs seemed incapable of delivering all the air she needed. She broke into a small burst of coughing as her chest heaved.
‘Well, if you think it’s better to do it yourself, maybe you’re right,’ Lizzie said doubtfully.
‘I am right. Promise me you won’t tell, Lizzie.’
‘All right then, I won’t.’
‘Promise. Promise!’ her voice was almost a scream.
‘Hey, please don’t get so upset, Amy. I promise. I promise I won’t tell anyone unless you say I can.’
Amy closed her eyes until her breathing had slowed to normal. ‘Good,’ she said at last. ‘I’ll tell him soon.’
When she felt calm enough, she spoke again. ‘How did your lunch with Frank go?’
Lizzie did not answer immediately, as if she were reluctant. ‘That’s the main reason I came over,’ she said after a moment. ‘It went really well.’ She looked away from Amy. ‘Frank’s asked me to marry him.’
‘Oh. That’s good, Lizzie, it’s really good. I’m happy for you.’ She knew her voice did not sound happy, but it was the best she could manage.
‘He hasn’t asked Pa yet, but he’s coming over again on Sunday, so he can do it then.’
‘Why hasn’t he asked Uncle Arthur?’ Amy said, suddenly alarmed.
‘I told him to wait until I’d seen you.’
‘Me? W
hy did you do that?’
Lizzie looked at her with her face twisted oddly, and Amy knew that her cousin was close to tears. ‘I didn’t want you to hear it from anyone but me. I… I thought it would upset you.’
There was silence between them for a long moment. ‘That was kind of you, Lizzie,’ Amy said at last. ‘You’re always kind to me.’ She bit her lip to hold back a sob, then with an effort she dragged her thoughts away from her own ill-fated proposal. ‘Who knows Frank’s asked you?’
‘Just me and Frank, and now you. I don’t want to tell anyone else till he’s asked Pa, or there’ll be a fuss when Pa finds out.’
‘And he’s going to ask him on Sunday?’
‘Yes, when he comes for lunch. I just said that.’
Amy took hold of both Lizzie’s arms and looked earnestly into her face. ‘Make sure he does. Make him ask, Lizzie.’
‘He’ll ask, don’t worry.’
‘Make him. You mustn’t have a secret engagement.’
‘Of course I won’t. I’m not stupid, you know. What’s the point of a secret engagement?’
Amy dropped her hands and looked away. ‘There’s no point. You’re right, Lizzie, you’re not stupid. I’m going inside now.’ She started a little unsteadily back towards the house.
‘Amy, I’m sorry,’ Lizzie called after her. ‘I shouldn’t have said that, I wasn’t thinking. Come back.’ But Amy walked on, ignoring Lizzie’s voice.
*
‘Are you coming for lunch again today, Frank?’ Arthur asked after church that Sunday.
‘Ah, yes, Mr Leith. Is that all right with you?’
‘Humph! It doesn’t seem to matter what I think, those women arrange it between themselves,’ Arthur said, turning away in apparent disgust and leaving Frank feeling anxious.
‘Maybe I shouldn’t come today,’ he said to Lizzie as she walked with him to the horse paddock.
‘Of course you should,’ she said. ‘Don’t take any notice of Pa, he doesn’t mean it. You’ve got to come today, you’re going to ask Pa if you can marry me.’
‘Well, maybe it’s not such a good day to ask him after all. Your pa doesn’t seem in a very good mood.’
‘It’s a perfect day. You won’t have any trouble with Pa, he likes you really. You just remember those things we talked about the other day.’
‘Next week might be better,’ Frank tried. ‘He might be in a better mood.’
Lizzie’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’re not trying to back out of it, are you? I thought you meant it. I thought you wanted to marry me. That’s why I let you kiss me again. I trusted you. You did mean it, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, of course I meant it.’ Frank took a deep breath. ‘All right, I’ll ask him today.’
‘Oh, good. I’ll see you later, then.’ Lizzie flashed him a brilliant smile, and Frank felt braver.
He no longer felt brave when Arthur rose from the table after lunch. In fact he felt ill. But Lizzie smiled encouragingly at him across the table, and gestured towards her father with her eyes.
‘I’m going to have a walk around the cows,’ Arthur announced. ‘You coming, Bill?’
‘Be with you in a minute,’ Bill said, taking a last gulp at his cup of tea.
Lizzie nudged Frank’s leg with her foot, and he scraped his chair back. ‘I’ll,’ Frank began, and heard his voice shake disconcertingly. He cleared his throat and tried again. ‘I’ll come with you, Mr Leith—if that’s all right?’ Arthur grunted something that might have been agreement as he went out the door. Frank quickened his step to catch up.
Lizzie moved around the table to sit beside her brother, and placed a hand on his arm as he made to rise. ‘Bill,’ she said, too quietly for her mother or younger brothers to hear, ‘do you think you could give Frank a chance to talk to Pa by himself?’
Bill looked at her with affectionate amusement in his eyes. ‘So he’s going to ask, is he? Now, why should I be so keen to help Frank take my sister away?’
‘Shh!’ Lizzie hissed. ‘It’s not funny. It’s serious.’
Bill chuckled. ‘Don’t get in a flurry. I’ll take Alf and Ernie off somewhere. Are you sure Frank won’t need protecting, though? Maybe I should stay in earshot?’ Lizzie pulled a face at him, but gave his arm a grateful squeeze.
Frank trudged along beside Arthur, running through various approaches in his head. He had to talk about his farm, Lizzie had been insistent on that. He had to remind Arthur that it was almost as big as Arthur’s own. He had to say something about admiring Arthur. What else had she said? He wished Lizzie could do the asking herself, though he knew that wouldn’t be right.
‘Do you think they look all right?’ Arthur asked abruptly.
‘What?’ Frank said, startled out of his thoughts.
‘These cows we’re looking at, Frank.’ He waved the stick he was carrying in a gesture that took in most of the paddock. ‘Do you think they look all right?’
‘Ah, yes, they look good. Your stock always looks healthy.’
‘Well, when you’ve been farming as long as I have, you’ll probably have a few more clues yourself, Frank. I hope so, anyway.’
‘Aw, I don’t know if I’ll ever be as good at it as you are, Mr Leith. I’ve always admired the way you do things.’ Frank warmed to his subject. ‘I think you must be the best farmer around here—maybe the best farmer in the whole Bay of Plenty.’
Arthur looked at him sideways. ‘Don’t lay it on too thick, Frank,’ he said, frowning. Frank subsided, wondering what he had said wrong.
‘I like coming here,’ Frank tried again. ‘It’s good of you to have me around so much.’
‘I can tell you like coming, all right,’ Arthur said. ‘You seem to be here every five minutes.’
Arthur really didn’t seem in a very good mood with him. How was he going to react when Frank asked him for Lizzie? Maybe he should leave it for another day. But then he would have to tell Lizzie he hadn’t asked. He weighed up the alternatives, trying to decide which was the more unpleasant. Lizzie won.
‘It’s good that your farm’s so close to our place, isn’t it?’ That was another thing Lizzie had said he was to mention: that she wouldn’t have to move far away if her father let her marry Frank.
‘What’s so good about it?’ Arthur demanded.
‘Well, it’s really handy for visits. I mean, if I lived miles away it wouldn’t be very easy for someone at my place to come and see you.’
‘You think that would be a bad thing, do you?’
‘Well, it would mean… it’s better than if… well, you know, if someone wanted to move away from home but they didn’t want to move too far, my place isn’t very far.’
‘Frank, that’s one of the most stupid things I’ve ever heard you come out with—and that’s saying something. What the hell are you going on about?’
‘I just meant we wouldn’t be able to visit you much if I didn’t live so close.’
‘ “We”?’ Arthur repeated suspiciously. ‘Who’s “we”?’
‘It’s… I meant “I”.’
‘You’re not going to start bringing your brother as well to eat me out of house and home? I seem to be feeding you half the time lately.’
‘No, no, Ben doesn’t like visiting, even if I wanted him to. I’d miss being able to come and see you if it wasn’t so handy.’
‘But Frank,’ Arthur said, in the tone of one explaining things to a very stupid child, ‘if you didn’t live close you wouldn’t know me, would you? You would never have started hanging around my place. So you wouldn’t miss it, would you?’
‘No, that’s true. It’s lucky really, isn’t it? I learn a lot from talking to you. It’s really good.’
Arthur stopped walking for a moment. ‘Frank,’ he said, shaking his head, ‘you might think I’m old, but I’m not stupid.’
‘I don’t think you’re stupid. Ah, I don’t think you’re old, either,’ he added hastily.
‘I know I’m not the attraction, Frank. You’re
after something, all right, but it’s not my advice.’ He started walking again.
Frank knew that was an opening. ‘I… I did want to ask you something,’ he plunged in, then his courage failed him.
‘What do you want to ask?’
‘I wondered if… how much hay do you feed out at this time of year?’
‘What sort of a question is that? It depends on the weather, if the grass is growing or not, not to mention how many cows I’ve got.’
‘Oh. Yes, I see. Thanks.’
‘Do you think my cows don’t look as though I feed them enough?’ Arthur demanded.
‘No, I mean yes, of course they do. I just wondered.’
Arthur grunted. ‘If you think I don’t know what I’m doing, I’d appreciate it if you said so outright instead of dropping hints. Then I could argue about it,’ he said, fixing Frank with a steady gaze.
Frank considered again whether Lizzie’s wrath would be harder to face than her father’s. Lizzie might cry. Yes, she would cry. That would be worse. Maybe.
‘I think you know what you’re doing. I’m sure you know,’ he amended miserably. This was not going well. ‘I wanted to ask you something else,’ he said, wishing his voice would not quaver so alarmingly.
‘Some more advice, you mean.’
‘Yes. No. Yes,’ he said, giving in to his fear again. ‘About, um, fencing. Yes, that was it, fencing.’ Frank knew fencing was the wrong subject to pick as soon as he had said it.
‘I’ve already told you all I know about fencing. If you choose not to take any notice of what I say, that’s your look-out.’
‘No, I didn’t mean fencing. I meant—’
‘Don’t expect me to waste any more of my time telling you things if you don’t take any notice. You’d learn more by getting on and doing a bit of work around your farm instead of hanging around here all the time.’
‘I do—I’ve been getting a lot done lately. I just like coming here, too.’
Sentence of Marriage Page 32