by Lark, Sarah
“Of course. You must be tired after your wedding, child, and then off on this journey straightaway. I remember being a newlywed like it was yesterday.”
Elaine was afraid that a lengthy paean on the delights of marriage would follow, but Mrs. Gardner seemed to be implying something else. When she brought water for washing up, she nonchalantly placed a jar of salve next to the washbasin.
“You may have some need of this,” she said, averting her gaze. “I make it myself, out of pig fat and plant extracts. I have marigolds in my garden, you see.”
Elaine had never touched herself before in her nether regions, but when Mrs. Gardner left, she reached for the jar of salve, and, her heart pounding against her chest, began rubbing the raw places between her legs with it. The pain eased instantaneously. Breathing a sigh of relief, Elaine undressed and collapsed onto the bed. Thomas was still drinking with Gardner and his sons—he appeared to be as skilled at holding his liquor as his father—and Elaine fell asleep. That, however, did not save her. She woke up, aghast, and screamed in terror when someone grabbed her by the shoulder and forced her onto her back. Callie, who had fallen asleep in front of the door, barked loudly.
“Make that beast shut up,” Thomas growled.
Elaine saw that he had already undressed, and he was holding her tightly. How was she supposed to go out and calm the dog?
“Lie down, Callie! Everything’s all right!” Elaine tried calling out to the dog, but her voice sounded so terror-stricken that she would not have believed herself. And her dog had a fine sense for her moods. Thomas released his wife, walked over to the door, and punished the dog with a swift kick. Callie whined but continued barking. Elaine no longer feared for herself alone but for the dog as well. She sighed with relief when she heard Mrs. Gardner’s friendly voice in the hall. She seemed to be leading the reluctant dog away. Elaine thanked heaven for her hostess and lay still obediently as Thomas turned back to her.
He did not bother with any caresses that night. He simply thrust into his young wife without even bothering to undress her, pulling her nightgown up so violently that it ripped.
Elaine held her breath to keep from screaming—it would have been mortifying if the Gardners heard her. But it did not hurt nearly as much as it had the night before. Furthermore, the salve facilitated Thomas’s thrusting. That night, he only entered her once and fell asleep immediately afterward, not even bothering to withdraw from Elaine’s body. She could smell his sweat and the pungent stench of whiskey. He must have drunk a great deal. Elaine vacillated between fear and disgust. Would he wake up if she moved out from beneath him? She had to try, as she thought she wouldn’t make it until morning in that position.
Finally, she gathered all her courage and pushed Thomas’s heavy body to one side. Then she rolled out of bed as quietly as she could, felt for her dressing gown—an elegant article from Dunedin that she had ordered with images in mind of cozy breakfast scenes with her beloved spouse—and slipped out of the room. The toilet was downstairs near the kitchen, and she heard quiet whimpering coming from within. It was Callie. Elaine forgot her original destination, opened the kitchen door, and followed the sound of the plaintive voice. She eventually found the dog huddled in a corner of Mrs. Gardner’s pantry. Elaine fell asleep there too, but fortunately, she woke up before dawn. She hastily closed Callie in again and snuck up the stairs. Thomas did not notice a thing. He was still sleeping as before, lying across the narrow bed, snoring. Elaine pulled a blanket out from under Thomas and spent the remainder of the night curled up on the floor. Only when Thomas began to stir groggily did she curl up on a corner of the bed.
If things went on this way, she would die of lack of sleep. Elaine felt wretched. Mrs. Gardner’s sympathetic looks the following morning did not help at all.
“Take that ointment along with you. Oh, and let me write the recipe out for you real quick,” she said good-naturedly. “It’s a shame that you won’t give me the little dog there in exchange. Such a nice animal. It would help us out a lot.”
In her panic, Elaine almost considered giving her Callie; then the dog would at least be safe. She had feared that Thomas might seriously injure the dog the night before. But she was sure she would find some solution to the problem on Lionel Station. Instead, she considered writing her grandmother Gwyn a letter. Surely there was a Kiward collie that Mrs. Gardner could have. They just needed to see about getting it there. But arrangements could be made. Elaine would have given her kind hostess almost anything that day, even the crown jewels.
The day passed similarly to the previous one. They were following the trail in the direction of Cardrona and climbing higher into the mountains; there was even still snow in places. Elaine, just as weary and sore as before, was freezing in the chaise. She had not thought to unpack her winter coat. Finally, the driver her father had sent—a bright, redheaded young Irishman—stopped to look for blankets and furs in the trousseau he was pulling. Elaine warmed up but nevertheless sighed with relief when they finally reached the hotel in Cardrona where they were to spend the night. It was a simple, low wooden structure with a bar that women were prohibited from entering. Elaine and Zoé were not even permitted to warm themselves at the fireplace, but had to go straight to their rooms, where a maid served them warm beer and something to eat. Elaine drank as much of the beer as she could, despite the fact that it tasted terrible. Aside from a little wine, she had never drunk much alcohol before, but she recalled Daphne’s message: alcohol could make it all go more easily.
Unfortunately, the beer did not have the desired effect. On the contrary. That night was the worst she had yet had to endure, for Thomas came to her almost directly after their arrival and was not drunk. Elaine hoped at first that this would make him more patient and gentle, but she trembled at his mere touch. To her horror, that only seemed to arouse him.
“You’re adorable when you play hard to get,” he said. “I like this a great deal better than that nonsense you were trying before. It suits my innocent little country girl.”
“Please, no!” Elaine backed away as he reached for her breasts. She had not yet completely undressed and was still wearing her corset, but that did not seem to bother him. “Not like this, please… Can’t we be a little… nice to each other first?”
She blushed under his mocking gaze.
“Be nice? What do you mean by that? Some little game? Did that whore friend of yours teach you something? That’s right, don’t try and deny it. I asked around about your acquaintance. So how do you want it? Like this?”
He ripped open her corset, threw it on the bed, and kneaded her breasts. It hurt, and she pulled out of his grasp, but he only laughed and moved to thrust himself into her.
“Or would you prefer something wilder? Maybe like this?”
Elaine whimpered as he turned her around.
Men and women normally looked at each other as they did it, Inger had said. What could possibly be normal about this?
Over the course of the next few days, their path took them out of the mountains. They made good time and it grew warmer. Grass once more grew between the rocks. Yellow and white spring flowers pushed their way out of the ground, unwilling to match Elaine’s cheerless mood. She knew from her first trip that the landscape around Lake Wanaka was even lovelier than that around Queenstown. The rocks did not descend so abruptly into the lake, and there were beaches and forests by the shore. For the first time since Elaine’s wedding, the weather was beautiful, and the views of the lake magnificent. The lake was a deep blue, with a beach nestled up against it and imposing trees reflected in the water. It appeared to be completely void of people. That was an illusion, however, as the township of Wanaka lay nearby. It was a small town, comparable to Haldon near Kiward Station, only in a much nicer location. The Sideblossoms crossed Wanaka early that afternoon, but then followed the Cardrona River in the direction of Lake Hawea. It was a detour, but this path led directly along the lake through the mountains, and was one of the few roads
that could be managed with vehicles.
They spent the last night of their journey in a farmhouse on the Hawea River. Elaine was finally allowed a break there. The men got so drunk on the whiskey that the Irish farmer distilled himself that Thomas could not even find his way to bed. Elaine finally slept the whole night through and was in considerably better spirits for the last stage of the journey. However, she become increasingly nervous as they approached her new home. Had she really ridden through this unpopulated mountain landscape on her first visit to Lionel Station? The area was gorgeous—the beauty of the deep-blue lake competing for attention with the splendor of the mountains—but she had not caught sight of a house or any sign of human habitation all day. Elaine finally faced the truth: even if she had her horse at hand, it was a full two-day ride from Lionel Station to Wanaka. What she had failed to registered before suddenly became undeniably clear: John and Thomas, Zoé, and perhaps a few workers were the only white people she would see for months at a time.
Lionel Station lay in the Makarora region, west of Lake Pukaki. The estate dominated a bay at the mouth of the Makarora River, and the pastureland occupied by the Sideblossoms’ sheep stretched around the manor and along the river up into the McKenzie Highlands. The house servants consisted entirely of Maori, but since no village lay directly adjacent, they slept in provisional shelters on Lionel Station. Even Elaine, who was not all that familiar with Maori customs, understood that this likely meant a great deal of fluctuation in the staff. The Maori were a family-based people, and their tribes drew them back even when they enjoyed working for the pakeha. The personnel who were expecting them that day, therefore, consisted of many different members of the tribe than those who were present on Elaine’s first visit. Zoé had complained about that en route. She was endlessly occupied with training new people. She seemed to have a talent for it, however, since the new personnel carried themselves impeccably. Then again, the servants were overseen by another Maori.
Elaine recognized an older woman who had been introduced to her previously as Emere. Her face still bore tattooing, but would have appeared fearsome even without the traditional ornamentation of Maori women. She wore her long gray-laced black hair down, which was unusual for the servant of a mistress as strict as Zoé, who placed value on Western clothing and pinned-up hair and even insisted that the chambermaids wear bonnets. But Emere did not look like she took many orders. She had an air of unflappable self-assurance as she appraised Zoé and then Elaine with bottomless, expressionless dark eyes.
Elaine greeted her as graciously as she could after her long journey. She wanted to establish a good relationship with the staff. Without any friends, she knew she would be lost on Lionel Station.
Thomas did not leave her enough time for a thorough introduction, however.
“Come, Elaine, I’ll show you our apartments. I had the west wing arranged for us. Zoé was kind enough to help furnish it.”
Elaine, who, after her first restful night, was no longer docile and afraid but angry about the way she had been treated, followed him peevishly.
Thomas came to a stop in front of the entrance. A door in the lavish entry hall led to the west wing.
“Do you want me to carry you over the threshold?” he asked, grinning.
“Save your romantic inclinations for more intimate occasions,” she retorted brusquely.
Thomas looked at her, astonished. Then his gaze became wary, and a flicker of anger flashed in his eyes. With unaccustomed courage, Elaine returned his gaze.
As she had expected, the west wing was overflowing with flowery valances and prim, dark furniture, none of which appealed to Elaine. Normally, she would not have cared much, since she preferred to keep busy outside and she hardly noticed her surroundings when she found herself reading an interesting book inside. But just then, she could no longer restrain herself.
“Can I change anything about the furnishings if I don’t like it?” she asked, her tone more provocative than she had intended.
“What don’t you like about it?” Thomas inquired. “The furnishings meet the highest standards of taste. Everyone who’s seen it has been in agreement. You can do as you like, but—”
“My standards may not be particularly fine, but I like to see my hand when it’s in front of my face,” declared Elaine, shoving the heavy curtains in front of one of the windows resolutely aside. This required a bit of strength as Zoé liked voluminous velvet monstrosities that completely shut out the outside world. “These, at the very least, must go.”
Thomas looked at her, and his gaze spellbound her. Had she really believed a week ago that pain underlay his impenetrable expression? His secrets had been revealed since then. Thomas may have felt abandoned as a little boy, but he had found a way to get what he wanted as an adult.
“I like them,” he said heatedly. “I’ll have your belongings brought up. Tell the servants where you want them to put your things.” With that, he turned around, dismissing Elaine, who found herself both frightened and humiliated by the threatening tone in his voice.
What was she supposed to do with an entire wagonful of her trousseau? Because of their confrontation, Thomas had not even shown her into their shared rooms. Elaine looked desperately around her.
“May I help you, madam?” an affected and very young voice asked her from the entrance. “I am Pai, your lady’s maid. Or at least that is what Mrs. Sideblossom said I am supposed to be, if it pleases you.”
Elaine looked confused. She had never had a lady’s maid before. Why did she need one? Little Pai did not quite seem to know, either. She couldn’t have been more than thirteen years old and looked lost in her black maid’s uniform with its white apron and bonnet. And this formal form of address. Zoé had sent the girl she could most easily do without to her daughter-in-law. Anger and defiance sprang up inside Elaine. But it wasn’t Pai’s fault. With her wide, unusually light-skinned face, the girl looked innocent and kind. She wore her thick black hair in a tight ponytail that emphasized her heart-shaped face. She was certainly not pure Maori, but mixed like Kura, though far from being such an extraordinary beauty.
Elaine smiled. “How lovely. Kia ora, Pai! Do you know these rooms? The men are about to bring a mountain of stuff in here, and we have to do something about it. Do we have… Do I have any other servants?”
Pai nodded energetically. “Yes, madam, another maid, Rahera. But she is shy. She does not speak much English. She first came here two weeks ago.”
So, it was just as Elaine had thought. Zoé had kept the experienced servants for herself while she had to sort things out with the new arrivals. Well, she would try to hold onto her maids for a longer time.
“That’s all right, Pai, I speak a little Maori,” she said pleasantly. “And you speak very good English, so we’ll get along fine. Go fetch Rahera… Or, no, first show me the apartments. I need some idea of where things should go.”
So Pai led Elaine around. She felt much better as soon as Pai pointed out her room. It looked like Elaine had a bedroom and dressing room all to herself. She would not have to share her bed with her husband every night then, or at least not have to sleep beside him. In addition to those rooms, there was a salon and a study, one leading into the other, neither of which was very large. It was reasonable to assume that Lionel Station was similar to Kiward Station in that the biggest common room would be used by everyone in the house, and meals would be taken together. The west wing had no kitchen, but did have two amply furnished, extremely modern bathrooms.
Elaine had a gift for quickly assessing a situation and good spatial imagination. She therefore had no trouble figuring out the layout of the apartments, and when the men—the driver her father had sent and a Maori worker—carried in her furniture and chests, she could tell them quite precisely where to put them. Pai likewise proved herself useful. She may not have had much experience, but she knew that as a lady’s maid, it was incumbent upon her to take care of her mistress’s clothing—and that consequently, it w
as best that the clothing be placed in the dressing room. So Pai energetically emptied chests of clothing into the dressers and drawers, while Rahera placed silver and crystal ware in the display cases with so much care that it bordered on reverence. The Maori boy assisting with the move introduced himself as Rahera’s brother Pita. Normally, he explained to Elaine, he worked as a shepherd. He had only offered his services as a mover to be close to Rahera.
Or rather, Pai, Elaine thought, who had not missed the conspiratorial sparks in the eyes of the boy and girl. But all the better. If Pai found a suitor here, she would not run off anytime soon.
“That be beautiful dog!” Pita said, admiring Callie, who had entered the house with the driver. The dog had spent the previous few nights with him in the covered wagon. Elaine had to find somewhere new for her, not an easy task, and all the more pressing for that reason.
“Good for sheep. Bought Mr. Sideblossom?” Pita’s English needed work. Elaine had to find out where these people came from, what tribe they belonged to, and why there was such a difference in the education level between Pai and the others.