Her Rags-to-Riches Christmas

by Laura Martin

  It was another hot day, even under the shade of the tree, and Alice felt her eyelids drooping. Giving in to the contented fatigue she felt, she allowed her mind to empty and her body to relax. She felt safe in George’s arms, safe and happy.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  George awoke slowly, stretching his legs out on the soft blanket. Alice was still in his arms, still curled up next to him, her skin warm against his. He took a moment to watch her, to see the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, the creamy white skin that never saw the sunlight, the beautiful curves that made up her figure. He felt happier than he had done in a long time, perhaps happier than he ever had before. All he needed now was for her to agree to marry him and he would have everything he’d ever wanted.

  She stirred, her eyes blinking open, her mouth stretching into a smile as she focused on him.

  ‘Good afternoon,’ he said, leaning down and kissing her, feeling his desire for her surge again.

  ‘I can’t believe I slept,’ Alice said, sitting up and looking around.

  She looked so wonderfully bemused that he couldn’t help but gather her in his arms and kiss her until they tumbled back down on to the blanket, their bodies coming together again. This time it was slower, less frantic, and George was able to savour every wonderful second. He felt his body tense as Alice cried out underneath him, her hands clutching him to her.

  ‘Sorry,’ he murmured as they lay in one another’s arms afterwards. ‘I couldn’t help myself.’

  Alice smiled, ‘I wasn’t complaining,’ she said, kissing him again.

  ‘We should get dressed, have some lunch.’ His mind was already flitting to the proposal he had planned, the question he had brought Alice out here to ask.

  Slowly they dressed, George helping Alice to fasten her dress, taking the opportunity to kiss the smooth skin of her shoulders, carefully avoiding the healing scars on her back. Once he had pulled on his shirt he sat down again, motioning for Alice to take the spot beside him.

  ‘Shall we eat?’ he asked, opening up the basket Mrs Peterson had packed for them. Together they unpacked the lunch that could have fed six, setting out the little packages of food on the blanket in front of them.

  As they began to eat George ran through what he wanted to say to Alice. He was almost certain that she would accept his proposal. He loved her and he thought she felt the same for him. Surely that was the main thing they should focus on. He knew she was still keeping something of her past from him, but hopefully one day she would find she wanted to tell him, either that or it would stop being so significant as she relaxed into her new life.

  ‘I’ve got something to ask you Alice,’ he said, turning to face her.

  She looked up and he saw a flash of panic in her eyes.

  ‘Something very important.’

  She shook her head quickly, almost frantically. ‘No,’ she said her eyes fixed on his, as wide as a baby koala’s.

  ‘No?’ He felt his own panic begin to rise. Was she saying no to the proposal he hadn’t yet made or no to the idea of him asking her a question?

  ‘No,’ she repeated, shaking her head quickly. ‘Don’t ask me. Not yet.’ She looked away, biting her lip.

  George felt all his hopes and dreams begin to deflate. Had he read the situation so very wrong? Surely he hadn’t imagined the feelings they had for one another? Alice had fallen into his arms so willingly just a few minutes earlier—what could have changed so drastically.

  ‘I love you, Alice,’ he said quietly but firmly, feeling his heart break a little as she shook her head again.

  ‘I love you, too,’ she said. The words should have made him shout for joy, but the desolation in her voice took all joy from the declaration.

  ‘Marry me. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.’

  ‘George...’ she said, her voice cracking with emotion. The silence seemed to stretch on for an eternity, until she said the words he hadn’t ever considered a possibility. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘You can’t?’

  She shook her head, tears falling from her eyes on to her cheeks. His first instinct was to take her into his arms, to comfort her, but as he reached out he hesitated. Perhaps he had got everything wrong, perhaps he had been building up a fantasy, thinking he detected emotions in Alice that were never there. He felt sick, wondering if he had forced her, not physically, but by using her gratitude to him for saving her.

  He backed away a few feet, putting the distance between them as he tried to work out exactly what was going on. His head was spinning, his thoughts all over the place.

  ‘I can’t,’ she said, taking a shuddering breath. ‘I’m married.’

  George felt the admission hit him with the force of ten galloping horses. She was married. She had already given her heart to someone else.

  ‘Married,’ he echoed, unable to say anything else.

  Alice nodded, reaching out her hand towards his, but hesitating at the last moment and letting it drop on to the blanket instead.

  ‘Then this...’ he said, shaking his head in disbelief ‘...this was all a lie?’

  ‘No.’ Her protest was loud and immediate. ‘No. Everything between us, everything I’ve said and done, everything was real.’

  ‘Except you’re married.’

  ‘Yes. Well possibly...yes.’

  He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, he knew every awful emotion he was feeling would be reflected on his face.

  ‘I love you, Alice. I’ve told you things I’ve never told anyone else before.’ He shook his head. ‘And you couldn’t even tell me you were married.’ Closing his eyes, he saw flashes of all the moments they’d spent together, happy and laughing. He couldn’t quite bring himself to believe it had all been a lie. ‘What do you mean possibly?’ he asked, his mind only just catching up with her statement.

  Alice sighed. ‘I don’t know if my husband is still alive.’

  ‘So you’re hedging your bets with me.’

  ‘No,’ she said, her voice hard. ‘Don’t say that.’

  ‘What else is there to say, Alice?’ he asked. ‘You’re married. However much I love you I can’t change that.’

  She reached for him, a pleading look in her eyes.

  ‘George, please.’

  He felt her hand on his arm, that warm touch that just a few moments ago he’d revelled in. Closing his eyes, he stood, backing away.

  Alice scrambled to her feet, her hands reaching out in supplication but he just shook his head. She was married. Married. All this time, all the chances she’d had to tell him.

  He pushed her hands from his arm, gently but firmly. He needed some space, needed to put some distance between them. He walked away, not stopping until he had reached the edge of the meadow, leaning his head against the trunk of a tree.

  Married. He hadn’t ever imagined that could be her secret. Alice who had seemed so wary of men, so scared, and she’d been married all along. His mind flashed back to when she’d been delirious, to the fear in her voice as she spoke of a man called Bill, the man she said had led her astray. He had assumed Bill had been her lover, no more than that. Bill had been the man to get her into this mess, the one responsible for her being sentenced to transportation. What sort of husband did that to his wife?

  Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself. Alice had said she loved him. She had kept her marriage from him, but that didn’t void all that had happened between them. Not all marriages were happy—the fact she was a married woman didn’t mean the last few weeks had meant nothing.

  ‘Alice,’ he said, his voice ragged as he turned around. He thought she would be still sitting where he’d left her, looking desolate as she stared down at the blanket, but the spot was empty. Her horse was gone from where it had been tied and as George looked across the meadow he could see her disappearing into the distance.


  ‘Alice,’ he shouted, knowing he had to stop her. She might have kept a huge secret from him, but that didn’t mean he didn’t love her. Somehow they could work this out, if only he could get her to stop and talk to him, to explain everything.

  Breaking out into a run, he crossed the meadow to Kareela in half a minute, untying the horse and leaping on to his back in one swift movement. He set off in pursuit of Alice, covering the ground quickly. With a few minutes’ head start Alice had the advantage, but George was the faster rider so he hoped he would be able to catch her.

  He galloped over the meadow, leaning low on Kareela’s back, urging his horse to go faster down the gentle slope. When they reached the edge he had to pause, trying to work out what direction Alice had taken. Here the rolling hills and copses of trees made his task more difficult as Alice had already disappeared from view. There wasn’t even a dust cloud to show her progress.

  Cursing loudly, he looked from one side to another, shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight. He had to hope she had returned home, that she had memorised the way from their journey out here and was heading back to the sanctuary of the farm. Nudging Kareela to the left, he pushed on, praying that Alice would be waiting for him at the house.

  * * *

  It was getting dark as George jumped down off Kareela. He’d been out looking for Alice all afternoon. After he returned home when he’d lost track of Alice, his worst fears had been realised when she wasn’t there waiting for him. With Alice out on her own he’d quickly remounted, calling for Mr Peterson to ride out and ask Robertson and Crawford for their help in searching.

  His two friends had found him near Turner’s Meadow later in the afternoon, both their faces clouded with worry. He’d told them the bare bones of what had happened and between them they’d divided up the routes Alice could have taken. For hours they’d searched, only calling a halt when the light had begun to fail.

  ‘We will find her,’ Robertson said as he came out of the house to greet George.

  Shaking his head, George tried not to give in to his despair. The nights could be harsh in the wilderness if you were not used to them. He hated thinking of Alice cold and scared, all alone because of his reaction to her.

  ‘I hope so,’ George said, running a hand through his hair. ‘We need to find her before anyone else, or she could be branded a runaway.’

  Robertson grimaced. It was a horrible possibility. If Alice was picked up by someone else and handed back to the guards in Sydney, she would be classed as a runaway and punished as such. The penalty for running away could be another public whipping or it could be being sent to one of the more inhospitable penal colonies, somewhere no one would show her any mercy.

  ‘We will,’ Robertson said resolutely. ‘We will go back out at first light and search until we find her. I’ll gather all the men I can and I’m sure Crawford will do the same.’

  George nodded. He knew it was all they could do, but still he felt a crushing panic seize him. Alice was out there all alone. His Alice. The woman he loved. The woman he should be taking care of.

  He closed his eyes, wished he could go back to the moment Alice had revealed she was married. His reaction had been poor, accusatory even, although in his defence the news had been shocking. For a moment he had mixed up the facts, had assumed that her marriage meant that she couldn’t love him. Now he’d had time to think things through he knew that wasn’t the case. Alice loved him, she’d told him so. And from what he had learned of her husband, the snippets she had let slip, he hadn’t been a very pleasant man at all. He wished he could go back, ask her calmly to explain the circumstances, and somehow work through it all together.

  ‘Get some rest,’ Robertson said. ‘You’ll need all your energy for tomorrow.’

  Nodding, George traipsed inside the house, knowing that he wouldn’t sleep at all until Alice was safely back with him.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Alice shivered. She was lost and cold and miserable. Dismounting, she stroked her horse’s neck, taking some comfort from the calmness of the animal.

  ‘Where are we?’ she murmured, looking around, hoping to see a landmark she recognised. Although she’d been out and about with George many times over the last few weeks the countryside was still not familiar and she knew that she was completely and utterly lost.

  ‘Foolish girl,’ she muttered, sinking down against the trunk of a tree. She hadn’t planned to flee as she had, it had been an impulsive action, one fuelled by the pain on George’s face as she’d told him she was married.

  Now she had no idea where she was or what she was going to do.

  Alice closed her eyes and rested her head back against the rough bark, trying to swallow back the sobs that were threatening to break free. Earlier that morning she’d been so happy, swept away by passion and contentment, and now everything had changed.

  She thought of the moment George had told her he loved her, then asked her to be his wife. It was everything she wanted, that was what made it all so cruel. Alice wished for nothing more than to have never met Bill, to be free to become Mrs Fitzgerald.

  George’s face when she had said she couldn’t marry him had been a picture of devastation. She knew she should have stayed, should have tried to explain more about her past, but she’d seen the distance in his eyes and felt her heart break. She’d deceived him; of course he would want nothing more to do with her. So she had fled, taking the horse and riding until her legs ached and the tears blurred her vision.

  Since then she had been trying to work out where she was. None of the rolling hills seemed familiar and the burnt yellows and browns of the fields all merged into one. There were no landmarks to orientate herself, she could be only a couple of miles from the farm and not know, or she could be closer to Sydney.

  Shivering in the chill of the night air, she felt her heart sinking at the thought of the city. Alice knew she was in a dangerous position. If anyone came across her, she would be branded as a runaway, punished for abandoning her position. The best thing for her to do would be to go back to George, no matter how difficult it would be to see him.

  ‘I love him,’ she murmured to herself. She loved him with a ferocity she’d never experienced before. It was heartbreaking to know that after today he would never look at her in the same light again.

  Wrapping her arms around herself in an attempt to keep warm, Alice closed her eyes again and tried to sleep. Tomorrow she would have to decide if she was running away from or back to Mountain View Farm and the man who had thawed her once-frozen heart.

  Her eyes had only been closed for thirty seconds when she heard the low murmur of voices. Her first thought was that George had found her, but as she scrambled to her feet she knew the voices in the distance didn’t belong to anyone she knew.

  It could be a farmer, of course, but equally it could be a guard—perhaps sent from Sydney to search for the runaway they’d seen desperate in the wilderness the previous week.

  Alice was frozen with indecision. Part of her wanted to stay where she was, make herself as small as possible and hope whoever it was passed on by without noticing her. The other part of her wanted to run, to get as far away from the danger as she could.

  Standing slowly, conscious of every rustle and swish of material, she moved slowly towards her horse, not daring to look in the direction of the voices. She used the tree to help her mount, pulling herself up into the saddle as quietly as she could. Only once she was on horseback did she dare look over her shoulder.

  Alice’s heart began to pound in her chest. There in the distance were five men dressed in the distinctive red coats of the guards’ uniform. They were mounted, their horses trotting along slowly. None of them had spotted her yet, she could tell as much by their relaxed posture and the quiet murmur of conversation between them.

  If she moved, they would see her. Of course she would have a head start, but these we
re men used to spending days in the saddle, whereas she was hardly an experienced rider.

  They might not follow her, that was a possibility, but Alice had spent long enough as a convict to know if the guards saw something they thought suspicious they would investigate. And if they caught a woman alone in the middle of the countryside... It didn’t bear thinking about.

  She shifted in the saddle, guiding her horse closer to the tree, hoping the guards would pass by without noticing her. A minute passed and then another. They were only twenty feet away now, riding along the road past her position, the closest they would pass to her hiding place. The slightest movement and their eyes would be drawn in her direction. Alice found herself holding her breath, one hand resting on her horse’s neck in an effort to keep the animal calm and still.

  She almost sobbed when they disappeared around a bend in the road, her whole body going weak as she released some of the tension she’d been holding. Even though the guards had gone she knew she couldn’t stay where she was. It was too exposed, too likely for her to be spotted by someone from the road. Carefully she urged her horse in the opposite direction to the guards, feeling the exhaustion overcome her now the immediate danger had passed. It was going to be a long night.

  * * *

  Alice had slept fitfully, unable to get comfortable on the hard ground and finding her thin cotton dress entirely inappropriate for spending a night outdoors. Stretching out, she bit her lip to control the cry of pain she would have made as the tense muscles slowly warmed up.

  She’d slid from her horse a few hours earlier, finally acknowledging she could ride no further without risking falling asleep on horseback and injuring herself when she fell from the saddle. She’d propped herself against the thick trunk of a tree, hoping it would give her shelter from any prying eyes, and determined to rest only until the first light of dawn.