Governor Crabbe gave a party, so did Jonathan Hagwood. Everyone who was anyone in the colony met the new arrivals, prowling around them and looking them up and down until, as Archibald Carter confessed to Gough Tremain, they felt like exhibits in a zoo.
‘Very hospitable, ye understand. Very hospitable. But it makes me feel like a curiosity, ye ken?’ He laughed – Archibald Carter had enough money not to care whether people thought him a curiosity or not.
Through the windows, Gough watched a succession of guests, lightly clad against the warm evening, as they promenaded elegantly between the trees that led from Hagwood’s terrace to the riverbank.
‘Why did you decide to come here?’ Gough asked.
‘Opportunity‚’ Carter said. ‘All my life I’ve wanted to be in on something from the beginning. That’s where the real money’s to be made.’ He rubbed his fingertips together. ‘I was here a few months gone, as ye know. I thought then, this was what I’d always been looking for. A veritable continent, sir, and ours for the taking! How could anyone wi’ red blood in his veins say no to an opportunity like that?’
They were joined by the Reverend Mason, the red-faced, round-bodied clergyman who had recently taken over the living at Parramatta. He greeted Gough with reserve – he had not forgotten his first encounter with a member of the Tremain family – but he was a lot more enthusiastic over meeting Archibald Carter.
‘A land of opportunity, sir‚’ he said. ‘I agree with you. A treasure chest!’
In the short time since his arrival, Mason had acquired a reputation for three things: a passionately partisan approach to the established church, an ardent advocacy of the lash as a means of maintaining order and a considerable interest in commerce. He had bought land and was developing it with the aid of an allocation of convicts. He spoke openly of his intention to become one of the foremost breeders of cattle and sheep in the colony. Whether the colony was a treasure house or not, Reverend Mason was clearly determined to keep both the Sabbath and everything else in it that he could lay his hands on.
‘What line of commerce are you particularly interested in?’ he asked Carter.
‘Trade,’ Carter said. ‘And finance.’
‘Are you a landowner, sir?’
Carter lifted a deprecating hand. ‘In a small way, sir. I have taken some land overlooking the harbour on the edge of town. And a piece of foreshore which may come in useful.’
*
Cash had arrived early to make up for his absence on the night of Hagwood’s ball. Now he regretted it. Apart from anything else, he begrudged the time. He had finally talked Gough into buying their own sealer and he wanted to spend every moment he had getting her ready to go south.
He was surprised, too, by the number of people who wanted to shake his hand. The story was all around the colony that Centaur had managed to give Owen the slip. Rumour said the Tremains had a financial interest in her and that she was on her way to London to try to break the East India Company’s monopoly. Every trader hoped she would succeed and was comforted by the knowledge that they stood to lose nothing if she didn’t.
Cash was thinking about Jack. He had not been happy about what he had found when he went to Parramatta after the Centaur trip. Jack had not wanted him there, he had made that obvious. He had been out of sorts with the world in general, although the farm had looked in good shape. Cash had tried, tactfully, to find out what the problem was, only to have his head bitten off for his pains. Instead of staying overnight, as he had intended, he had returned to Sydney Cove the same evening.
‘There’s something the matter with him,’ he told Cuddy. ‘I don’t think he’s sleeping.’
‘Sorry about that,’ she said indifferently. ‘Want me to get your bath ready?’
He looked at her. He had intended to tell her about the farm, about Jack, to share his thoughts and anxieties with her, but she seemed not to want to hear about him.
‘Father’s right,’ he said, ‘he’s being too soft on his convicts.’
‘More fool him.’
Even in that she had not been interested.
On the other side of the room, amid the bare shoulders, the multicoloured dresses and fluttering fans, the splendid uniforms and formal clothes, he caught a glimpse of Jane Somers standing with her parents.
He had seen her only once since his return. Cuddy had been out at the government store when Jane had visited him at the house with Elinor, as always, in tow.
‘You are the talk of the colony,’ she had told him.
‘Why is that?’
The morning sunlight shone through the windows and cast yellow rectangles on the walls. There was a bunch of wild flowers in a bottle. He hadn’t noticed them and only did so now because he saw Jane scrutinising them.
She looked quizzically at him and he saw again the dark heat in her eyes, the wilful lift of her nose and chin.
‘Because of the way your ship ran Captain Owen’s blockade, of course.’
‘Since no one in the colony including myself was there when it happened, I fear reports may be exaggerated.’
‘Why do you say you weren’t there? Of course you were.’
‘I was cowering behind a rock on the beach,’ Cash said but she would not listen to him.
‘You live such an exciting life,’ Elinor Goodall told him.
It was odd how the girl could exasperate him with even the most innocent remark.
Jane was not pleased by the uninvited comment; in Jane’s company, you were expected to know your place. ‘It is hardly necessary to say something so obvious.’ She fluttered her eyes at Cash. ‘Are you back to stay, now?’
‘Now I must start getting some more sealskins together.’
‘There is no hurry, surely? Not if you have to wait until Centaur returns from England?’
‘I never said she was going to England. I really don’t know where people get these ideas.’
‘Everyone is saying so,’ Elinor assured him.
‘I have known everyone to be wrong before this. In any case, there are other ships.’
They talked about this and that. A native had been shot trying to steal corn. His head had been preserved and was being sent to England for the scientists to study. Had Cash heard? No, he had not and thought the story outrageous, if true. There had been another unsuccessful attempt to cross the Blue Mountains. Such an appropriate name, did he not think? Twice Jane declared they could not stay a moment longer. Twice they stayed.
Finally the door opened and Cuddy came in carrying a basket full of provisions.
She was inside the room before she realised Cash had company. ‘Oh,’ she said, hand flying to her mouth.
She turned to leave but Cash said, ‘This is Cuddy. We have spoken of her before. Cuddy, this is Miss Jane Somers and her friend, Miss Elinor Goodall.’
‘We have met,’ Jane laughed. ‘As you no doubt remember, my dear.’
‘Ma’am,’ Cuddy said, eyes narrowed.
‘Such an interesting life.’ Jane turned to Cash. ‘We really must be off. We’ve taken too much of your time already.’
She had smiled sweetly but obviously could not wait to leave.
Now Cash looked around Jonathan’s spacious reception room. The colony was growing. You could no longer assume you would know everyone at a function like this. There were faces here he had never seen before. He saw his father talking to the clergyman who had partnered him when he’d had his trouble with Thomas Birkett. There was a stranger with them – a middle-aged man wearing an old-fashioned wig. A young woman joined him. The man turned and introduced her to his father. Gough bowed. As he straightened, he saw Cash on the other side of the room and beckoned to him to come and join them.
‘My son Caswell,’ Gough said, introducing him. ‘I don’t believe you have met Mr Archibald Carter, newly arrived from Bengal.’
‘Your servant, sir.’
‘Allow me to introduce my daughter Virginia,’ Carter said.
Cash turned. His h
eart lurched.
Virginia smiled at him. Her fair hair was softly curled and fell in natural waves to her shoulders. Her dress was of blue brocade, the low bodice trimmed with lace. Slender arms emerged from sleeves that just covered her elbows. A necklace of huge rubies enclosed her slender white neck. Her blue eyes regarded him. He thought, prayed, they were looking at him as he was looking at her.
Blood pounding, he bowed over her hand. ‘It is an honour to meet you‚’ he said, his voice echoing in his ears.
‘And you, sir.’
He looked up and caught her smile.
He was in love.
‘Go and find your mother, child,’ Carter ordered her sharply. ‘She needs ye to assist her.’
Virginia’s beautiful eyes blinked. The smile died from her lips. ‘Yes, Papa.’ She turned at once and slipped silently away.
Cash watched her go. His mouth was dry, his heart thundering.
Carter’s eyes were pricing his jacket. ‘She is a dutiful daughter‚’ the Scotsman said. He laughed a little, very composed. ‘She had better be, eh? A man has a right to peace and quiet in his ain hoose. Are ye by any chance married yourself, Mr Tremain?’
Cash turned to him. ‘What? Oh … No, not married.’ From the corner of his eye he saw the blue dress disappear through the door into the next room.
Carter was saying something. He looked at him. ‘I’m sorry?’
‘I was saying I understand ye have business interests in the colony yourself, Mr Tremain?’ Carter said.
*
Hiding behind what he told himself was a cordial smile, Thomas Birkett studied the face and figure of the girl with whom he was dancing. Particularly the figure. Not that he had any complaints about the face. The vivid blue eyes were fine, if a little lacking in confidence, but the figure was sensational.
Since his arrival in the colony he had been troubled by the absence of any young women who could be called even remotely suitable. He had a normal man’s appetites, he supposed, and while there were of course always means of satisfying them, it was less easy to arrange these things discreetly in the small community of New South Wales than it had been in London. He had been telling himself for two or three months now that the time had perhaps come for him to make some suitable arrangement for a wife. Anywhere but this God-forsaken desert, it would have presented few problems. A modicum of good looks was of course essential but beyond that all he really required was a suitable financial settlement in exchange for the title he would inherit when his father died. He had calculated that a capital sum of five thousand guineas was the least he could afford to consider but until now there had been no one in the colony with the financial resources to make this possible. He had thought briefly of Jane Somers. She was young and personable and her figure was acceptable. True, she was a little too assertive for his taste but he had no doubt that he would be able to change that, given time. Unfortunately he had discovered that her family, although well-connected, was entirely dependent upon her father’s income as a government servant. This, of course, had made her completely unsuitable.
There had been times when a glimpse of her knowing eyes, the hint of the body beneath her dress, had given him cause to regret it. Now, however, as the fiddles squeaked and the dancers bowed and pirouetted in the candlelight, he was consoled. Both financially and physically, Virginia Carter looked an altogether better prospect.
He smiled at her as they moved about the dance floor, his eyes removing her clothes garment by garment as he did so. He saw her flush and look away. He approved. It was entirely correct for her to pretend she was not attracted to a man when he made it plain he was so attracted to her. It was a pretence he hoped to overcome, given time. The thought dried his mouth.
At the end of the set he returned her gallantly to her mother. He felt it was good tactics to leave her at this point, to make her wonder whether he was as attracted to her as she would no doubt wish. A little uncertainty would put their relationship on the right footing from the first.
Feeling highly pleased with himself, he went in search of refreshment.
*
Cash intercepted Virginia shortly after the supper interval.
‘I wondered if I might have the pleasure …?’
The ivory-coloured skin flushed scarlet. ‘If Mama has no objection …’
By her expression Mama was less than pleased but she said nothing.
Cash led her out on to the floor.
He studied her surreptitiously, a task made easier by the fact that she seemed to be taking great care not to look at him at all. She was without question the most beautiful woman he had ever seen but to say that was to say nothing. Everything about her, her graceful movements, the sweetness of her expression, attracted him more powerfully than he had ever been attracted before.
He had never been shy; now he was a tongue-tied fool. Everywhere, faces smiled, voices murmured, laughter trilled. Only here, between the two of them, was there silence.
I must say something, he thought desperately. Otherwise she will think I’m an imbecile. Already she is bored, I can sense it. ‘It must be a letdown after Calcutta,’ he managed.
She raised her eyes to his. ‘You know Bengal?’
‘No,’ he confessed.
‘It is very hot and very dirty,’ she said. ‘I prefer it here.’
‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Good. I am glad.’
An absolute imbecile, he thought, mortified.
‘Mr Hagwood’s house,’ she said later. ‘It is very grand.’
She seemed to be in as much difficulty as he.
‘He would be very pleased to hear you say so.’
The line of dancers moved on. When next they faced each other, she said, ‘I understand the view from the terrace is very fine.’
He looked at her, suddenly alert. ‘So I believe.’
‘I thought we might have a look …’
‘After the dance,’ he said, heart thumping.
The terrace was lined with flares that cast guttering shadows on the walls of the house. More flares marked the walk between the avenue of trees that ran from the house to the riverbank, invisible now darkness had fallen. A group of people was going down the steps from the terrace as Cash and Virginia came out. They looked at each other.
‘Shall we join them?’
At the end of the path, the river slid silently between its banks. Overhead, the trees’ heavy canopy increased the weight of the darkness.
‘The water looks sinister,’ Virginia said. ‘As though it would drown you very easily.’
He smiled. ‘We must take care not to fall in.’
They looked back at the house standing high on its slope, the flickering light of a hundred candles shining through the windows. The strains of the orchestra came faintly to them on the night air. The party which they had joined was talking quietly together; they were with them but not of them and they remained apart, alone and happy to be so.
‘I believe even my mother will approve of this house,’ Virginia said and smiled, the light from the house shining on her lips, her eyes. ‘I declare there are few buildings to match it, even in Calcutta.’
The thought of her mother made her frown. She was well aware Mrs Carter would have preferred her not even to dance with Cash Tremain, and she certainly would not approve of their stepping outside the house together, even in the company of others. She would have some explaining to do later. To say nothing of her father.
She said, ‘Perhaps we should walk back?’
The walk was lined with fresh gravel that crunched quietly beneath their feet. On either side, the flares cast guttering shadows in the windless night, each with its chalice of flame tipped with smoke. The air was pleasantly cool with a hint of dampness from the river. The rest of the party had stayed by the water. For these few yards they could talk without fear of being overheard.
Cash said, ‘It has given me a great deal of pleasure to meet you tonight.’
‘Yes,’ Virginia agreed, ‘it
has been most enjoyable.’
‘I would like to think I could see you again.’
The stone steps to the terrace were in front of them. The wall, six feet high, rose in front of them and cut them off from the windows of the house.
‘I am sure we shall often meet each other.’
‘That wasn’t what I meant.’
Cash looked over his shoulder but the rest of the group lingered by the riverbank. They were still alone.
He said, ‘You understand what I am saying?’
She chose not to answer him. ‘We should go in.’ Moving towards the foot of the steps.
‘One moment.’ He put out his hand to check her. Somehow, it found hers and their fingers closed over each other’s.
He looked down at her. ‘When I met you tonight … When I saw you … I …’
He stumbled, tongue like a cripple.
‘It is too soon to say such things.’
‘Not if they’re true.’
He tried to bring his will to bear upon her, to compel her to look up at him, but she did not.
‘We should go in,’ she said again. But made no attempt to do so.
‘I still feel it,’ he told her. ‘More so, if anything …’
She pushed a pebble to and fro with her slippered foot. Her fingers were warm against his own.
A light laugh, thirty yards away, indicated that the other guests were now walking towards them. He had a minute, at most. He looked at the top of her down-turned head, gold and shining in the flickering light. The straight way was the only way.
‘I would like to see more of you, Miss Carter. If that would be agreeable to you.’ The thunderous beat of his heart made his voice sound strange in his ears.
She looked up at him then. ‘My father will not approve …’
At last, Cash felt his courage return. ‘It is your approval I am after, not your father’s.’
‘But his is necessary. More necessary than mine.’
Recklessly, Cash said, ‘I shall ask his permission to … to court you, Miss Carter. If that prospect would please you.’
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