By ten o’clock she had finished. It was a steep haul up the hill from the riverbank, the containers of water were heavy and she’d had two or three beatings within the last day or so, yet she managed it without complaint.
‘I want you to understand something,’ Jack told her. ‘If they come, I don’t think they’ll get anywhere near the hut, not with two guns to stop them. But if it looks as though they might, don’t wait. Is that clear? The water’s for Cash and me to use, if necessary, not for you. You take off into the woods and hide until morning. Then get to Corps headquarters and ask to see Captain Tremain. The soldiers try and stop you, say you’re from me. From Jack. You won’t forget?’
No, she said, she wouldn’t forget, but he made her repeat the name, Tremain, to be sure she’d got it right.
‘He’s my father,’ Jack said. ‘Tell him what happened and he’ll help you. Do you understand?’
‘Not goin’ to ’appen, though, is it?’
‘I hope not.’
Cash said, ‘I’d better get out there, then.’
‘Take the extra powder and shot with you,’ Jack urged him. ‘That’ll give you a better chance.’
Cash shook his head. ‘There’ll be no time to reload. This is bluff, the whole of it.’
He went outside again. Overhead, a hard brilliance of stars. On the opposite bank of the river, candle flame shone through the windows of Hagwood’s house and cast gutters of golden light across the water. Cash could hear the faint sound of music.
Across the breast of the hill, the trees and grasses were quiet in the windless night. There was no moon. He heard a soft, startled grunt and the thump-thump as a kangaroo bounded away from him. He reached the dip in the ground that he had discovered earlier and settled down in it to wait. The damp ground struck cold through his clothes. Like a grey ghost, an owl quartered the field on silent pinions. Overhead, the stars revolved slowly in their courses. Everything was still. He waited.
He had imagined a mob, full of noise and fury, flares held high, surging in boozy riot along the track towards the farm. When they came it was in silence, shadows flitting one by one through the darkness under the moonless sky.
THIRTEEN
Hagwood’s reception was going well. The spacious reception rooms were filled with laughter and music, silks and brocades multicoloured and brilliant in the benign candlelight.
Gough Tremain stood with Henry Bliss, a crystal goblet of rum in his hand. He thought Hagwood must have damn near bankrupted himself, putting on a show like this. Only a fool would do it, yet Hagwood was anything but a fool. The lavish spectacle made him uneasy. His affairs must be going very well indeed, Gough thought. What’s he been up to that I don’t know about?
‘Place is going from bad to worse,’ Bliss said.
Gough brought his mind back to the company. ‘In what way?’
‘Ruffians like Thornton getting pardons. Next thing you know, they’ll be running the colony. I suppose we should be thankful he’s not here tonight.’ Bliss sniffed loudly through his hairy beak of a nose and took a pull at his drink. His face was purple and truculent in the stammering candlelight. ‘Into every scheme you can think of. I’d have sent him to Norfolk Island.’
‘The colony needs initiative,’ Gough said. Mind you, he thought, Norfolk Island had its uses. He had sent Gwen Penrose and her brother there a month earlier.
‘Initiative,’ Bliss repeated contemptuously. He drank. ‘See your lads had the sense to stay away.’
Gough had noticed their absence and was annoyed by it. Hagwood was the sort to take offence. Stupid to stir up enmity when there was no need for it. This was a big night. It was their business to be here.
*
Jane was dancing with Ensign Huggett for the second time, risking Elinor’s enmity by doing so. Really, she thought, what choice was there? She had even tried to dance with Thomas Birkett, who at this stage of the evening was already half-drunk and, as always, full of sneers about the colony and what it had to offer.
‘Did you ever visit Compton House while you were in London?’ Birkett had asked her. His total conversation was scorn for local society intermingled with a recital of the aristocratic houses of London with which he claimed familiarity. She couldn’t decide which of the two she found more boring.
‘No,’ she said, mind elsewhere. ‘I never did.’
What could have happened to Cash? It would be most aggravating if he failed to arrive, after all her plans.
The music thumped. She moved down the line of dancers, smiling mechanically at the succession of faces that appeared before her and as quickly vanished.
I don’t want to go back to England. There’s nothing there – only fools like Thomas Birkett, pompous merchants and unwashed millions with no lives, no hope. Convicts in the making. Here, with the right man, I can make something. A new land. A new world. Cash is the right man. She laughed, lost in her thoughts, and the man facing her smiled uncertainly, not understanding. It will be hard, she thought, revelling in the challenge. Frightening. A wilderness … I think I’m frightened now, thinking about it, but at least I shall live before I die.
She laughed again, high and joyous, unaware that people were looking at her. Who knows? she thought. I might even get to see the other side of those blue mountains after all.
I can’t afford to wait, though. Cash is going off sealing next week. He could be away for months. If Father’s quarrel with the governor isn’t settled, we could all be gone before Cash gets back. He will expect me to go with him. Unless …
I must see Cash tonight. Then, perhaps, I will be able to force Father into letting me stay.
Asking for permission would never serve. She was underage; he would say no. There was only one way to do it. She shivered at the thought, wanting it, frightened of it.
And now Cash wasn’t here.
She was vexed, out of sorts. Her feet ached. She wanted the dance to finish so she could sit down.
If only Cash would come.
*
Jonathan Hagwood found his wife in the refreshments room supervising the staff who were busy laying out the platters of beef and mutton, chicken, fish, fruit, flagons of beer, of wine, of rum – everything needed to reinforce the undoubted success that the evening had been so far.
‘Seems to be going reasonably well.’ Speaking nonchalantly, trying to conceal his pleasure and failing.
Elizabeth laid her hand on his arm. ‘Far better than that. A marvellous success. Everyone is saying so.’
He smiled at her, the green eyes warm as always when he was with her. ‘Does it please you?’
She pressed his hand. ‘I still can’t believe it all happened in time.’
Up to the last, it had looked as though they would never get the building finished, yet somehow it had happened. The tradesmen that Thornton needed had been found. The building and the grounds had been completed barely a week ago.
That had left the furnishings – an empty barracks was hardly the place to entertain the cream of colonial society – but what Jonathan had not told her, keeping the matter secret until the last minute, was that he had ordered a complete household of furniture from England before he had known for certain that the grants would come through. It had arrived on Bellona and had therefore, appropriately, travelled on the same ship as the dispatches from the Home Office confirming the land allocations.
Jonathan had refused to put money into developing the land until he knew for certain that title would be theirs, yet he had spent as much and more on buying furniture for a house that might never be built.
Elizabeth knew Jonathan had mixed motives for doing it – the house and the status it promised were very important to him – but she believed he had another reason: to give her pleasure. The thought warmed her heart and body as his repeated acts of consideration always did.
She knew her husband through and through. He was hard, ruthless, unscrupulous, quarrelsome, a snob: all these things. She understood him, his need to suc
ceed, and loved him with all her heart.
‘I dare say it will give people something to live up to,’ he said.
To be a leader of society was his dearest wish. Now, it seemed, the dream was coming true.
‘The Tremain lads aren’t here,’ he said.
‘Does it concern you?’
‘Not at all.’
But she knew it did: success was too new for him to be indifferent to a snub.
‘Surely it is their loss,’ she suggested.
‘Good heavens …’ He forced a laugh. ‘I don’t care if they’re here or not. It’s just that not turning up seems so …’
‘Arrogant?’
‘Ill-bred.’ Picking on the quality that mattered to him above all others; yet ill-breeding was not something of which the Tremains could reasonably be accused. Perhaps afraid she would say as much, he added quickly, ‘Upbringing counts as much as blood, you know. More.’
‘Of course.’ Seeking no argument, tonight of all nights. She was content with her man and pitied those who were not.
They looked at each other, taking pleasure in what they saw. They were both turned out to suit the occasion: Jonathan in a fawn waistcoat of soft kid and a thigh-length coat faced with black satin and rich with embroidered patterns in gold thread; Elizabeth in apple-green silk, the underskirt and bodice in the palest mauve, the sleeves just covering the elbows.
She admired him openly, enjoying their moment of intimacy. She curtsied deeply to him, head bent on her slender neck. ‘The king of New South Wales,’ she said, seeking to please him.
He was delighted by her compliment. ‘Looking as you do, that must make you the queen. Better yet, the empress.’ He clasped her hand in his. ‘Shall we join our guests, my dear?’
They went through the doorway into the reception room.
*
There looked to be about a dozen of them; enough, for sure, but not the mob of fifty that Cash had feared.
They huddled together on the path ten yards below him, shadows muttering together, faces turned towards the hut ahead of them. They had not seen him.
It was too dark to distinguish features. In any case, he would not know them. Presumably one would be Dan Hawkins; another possibly Jed Smales, the publican, although he might have stayed behind to look after the tavern.
They hesitated so long that Cash began to hope they had lost their nerve, that the night air had sobered them and let them see more clearly the trouble they were making for themselves. Whatever they thought Cash had done, the Tremains were gentry, their father a senior officer. Attacking them would be a hanging business, if the culprits were found.
Yet, having come so far, they seemed reluctant to turn tail and go home again. No doubt there had been plenty of boastful talk before they set out. It would make it all the harder for them to back down now.
The muttering grew louder. Cash heard a deep voice trample gruffly over the rest. ‘Let’s burn the place, any road.’
‘Jed d’say the older one got a gun,’ another voice cautioned.
‘You turning yeller, Amos, best you go back,’ the first speaker said contemptuously.
‘Never said nothin’ ’bout turnin’ back! All I said was ’e got a gun. What wrong wi’ sayin’ that, eh? You want for to get yer ’ead blawed off, go ahead. I’ll not stop you.’
Cash stood up and thumbed back the hammer. The dry click of the mechanism was loud in the silence.
‘Anyone wants his head blown off, I’ll be happy to oblige,’ he said quietly.
The effect on the men was stunning. They turned as one, staring at the apparition that had risen from the ground at their feet.
Cash knew he could not afford to let them collect their wits. He let the muzzle roam hungrily over them. ‘Make up your mind,’ he said, and was pleased that his voice sounded so confident in the silence. ‘Go on up that path, we’ll gun you down.’
‘We?’ a voice queried from the midst of the group. ‘Aren’t no one else but you, mister.’
Cash scoffed. ‘You don’t think I’d be stupid enough to come out here by myself, do you?’ I only wish I wasn’t, he thought.
‘Why not let’s see the rest o’ you then?’
He thought it was the man who had suggested burning the hut. ‘Because I’m not a fool. I’ll tell you this, though – you force me to shoot, any of you who survive will hang later. I’ll give you my solemn oath on that.’
‘Give us the girl,’ the same voice said. ‘That’s all we’re wantin’.’
‘Perhaps you are,’ Cash said. ‘But seems she doesn’t want you.’
‘Maybe we’ll just step up there and ask ’er for ourselves.’
‘And maybe you won’t. Go home now and we’ll say no more about it.’
‘What about my girl?’ A massive shape stirred among the others: Dan Hawkins was there, as Cash had thought.
‘She wants to come back in the morning, she can.’
‘Seems we got a whole passel o’ promises but not a lot else,’ someone muttered.
‘Plenty wouldn’t have talked to you at all,’ Cash pointed out. ‘They’d have fired on you as you came along the path, you know that as well as I do.’
Another pause, then one of the men spat on the ground. ‘Reckon ’e’s right. ’e says the girl can come back if she wants to, reckon I believe ’im. C’mon, boys. Let’s get outer here.’
The speaker turned and began to walk back along the path to the village. For a moment the group seemed to hold together, then, one by one, the men broke away.
A mutter of voices on the still air. A fading stench of humanity – sweat and dirt mixed with alcohol. Someone coughed. Then they were gone.
Cash sat down on the ground. He felt very tired. He eased down the hammer of the gun with fingers grown suddenly old. He stood up with difficulty. It looked a long way to the cottage. On the other side of the river, Hagwood’s house was another world.
Out of the darkness, Jack said, ‘I had you covered.’
Cash turned. His brother came forward from the far side of the track.
‘What were you doing?’ Cash said.
‘I thought you could do with a hand.’
Cash grinned ruefully, leaned forward and punched Jack softly on the upper arm. ‘Damn right,’ he said. ‘Where’s the girl?’
‘Up at the hut. She’s fine.’
Cash nodded, too tired to speak. So Jack had been there all the time. He hadn’t been alone, after all.
*
In dribs and drabs, the reception broke up. It had been a great success. Everyone was impressed with the hospitality, the food and drink, the new house. It was likely that Thornton would be getting more commissions; Governor Crabbe had even confided to Henry Bliss that he might ask him to do some work for the colony, down at Sydney Cove.
The governor had graciously agreed to stay overnight; so had Judge-Advocate Somers and his family. Relations between the two men could have made things awkward but fortunately the house was big enough to accommodate them and their difficulties. The two most senior officials in the colony staying under the Hagwood roof – Jonathan was walking about with his feet a yard off the ground. Many of the other guests were staying overnight in Parramatta. Others, with duty in the morning, boarded their vessels to make the long journey back to Sydney Cove.
The house guests were shown with due ceremony to their rooms and the master and mistress of the house retired. The servants tidied the rooms, extinguished the candles and went to bed themselves. Night came to the new mansion. Outside, under a sky ablaze with stars, the river ran silently towards the sea.
In her room, Jane Somers lay in bed, eyes wide in the darkness, and thought about Cash Tremain. He had not come but she was sure there would have been a good reason. She would not give up because of one disappointment. Her plan was postponed, not cancelled. Still, she did not sleep.
FOURTEEN
During the confrontation with Thornton’s men Cash had been concerned simply with survival; the ne
xt morning the question troubling him was simply what they were going to do about Cuddy Marshall. Rescuing her from ill-treatment was one thing; being saddled with her for the foreseeable future was a different matter entirely. She would be happier going back to Dan Hawkins and the life she knew.
He told her so, determined to waste no more time on her, and was at once confronted by screams of abuse and floods of terrified tears.
‘I suppose she can stay with me,’ Jack said without enthusiasm. ‘For the time being anyhow.’
Cash had no patience with that suggestion. ‘Nonsense. She’s brought us enough trouble already. You need men for ploughing, not a riotous young harlot.’ He threw Jack a questioning glance. ‘Unless you want her for herself of course?’
Jack shook his head vehemently. ‘Nothing like that.’
‘Why did you bring her here in the first place then?’
Jack shrugged but avoided his brother’s eye. Of course he didn’t want her. Did he?
Cash wished they had never set eyes on her. Even her looks were against her. Her face was swollen, her clothes torn and dirty, her expression sullen.
‘What shall we do with you?’ he wondered aloud.
She shrugged.
‘You sure you wouldn’t sooner go back? They’ll probably be more careful now they know we’ve got our eye on them.’
Her face shut stubbornly. She shook her head.
They couldn’t simply abandon her.
‘I am going down to Sydney Cove. Do you want to come with me?’
She was suspicious. ‘What you wanner take me there for?’
Because I don’t know what else to do with you. He said, ‘Maybe we can find something for you to do, down there.’
‘I’d sooner stay ’ere with your brother.’ Jack was her idol – he had saved her from Jed Smales. All Cash had done was show how much he despised her.
‘That’s out of the question.’
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