by Rue Allyn
“I saw him, with my own eyes. I sought him out to show him my new gown and saw him come out of the house in intimate conversation with one of those women.” Even the memory humiliated her.
“Would the lassie in question be young and fair-haired?”
Electra nodded, surprised at Callum’s admission. “So you know the one I mean? I presume he sees her regularly.”
“And were ye running back to yon factory then?” Again she nodded, sniffing back another sob. He shook his head. “I ken it canna have been easy for ye to trust people in the past. But I’m going to tell ye a story about yon blond-haired lass and then we’re going to turn around and go home.”
“I’m sorry, Callum, I know you mean well but I will not go back.”
“Will ye let me tell ma story first? Then ye decide what ye must do.” She shook her head, about to refuse. But Callum had been so kind to her, the least she could do was listen.
“All right, Callum.”
He took a breath, gestured for her to sit and settled himself on the grass beside her. “Ye see, lass, wee Molly Preston has worked the streets as a prostitute since her mam up and died when she were nae more than thirteen years. One evening she took money from a seaman at a seedy pothouse in The Rocks area. He was mad with the drink and was cruel with her. He would have left her for dead had Will no’ heard her screams as he passed the alley.”
Despite her anger, Electra felt sympathy for the poor child. And a niggle of doubt crept in regarding William. “Callum, how awful. What did he do then?” she asked.
“He threw the vile wretch from her and rescued the poor wee lass. She was verra badly beaten and he paid for a doctor to attend her. There was no doubt she’d go back onto the streets, so he offered to find her domestic work.”
“Oh, thank goodness for that.”
“Weel unfortunately the lass laughed and said she’d no’ last a day. Whoring is all she knows. So he took her tae Miss Bridie’s. He knew she’d have three meals and regular medical attention as well as a safe place to peddle her trade. He checks on her welfare when he comes to town, ken, but has never shared her bed.”
“He’s quite familiar with Miss Bridie’s then?” she asked hesitantly.
“He’s a man, Electra. Before he married, he had needs like any other. But no’ for a wee lass of sixteen.”
Electra contemplated her hands clasped in her lap. Her thoughts on sharing William’s bed had been made clear the day they married. But that did not stop a sharp surge of jealousy at the thought of him with another woman. Goodness, the man had done no wrong. Apart from visiting that dreadful house in the past … but she had acted like a spoiled child and made an insulting assumption about a kind deed. What a fool she had been.
“Oh Callum, what must you think of me? Thank you for telling me about the girl.” She paused, shaking her head. “But I cannot come back. I could not face him after my behaviour.”
“Ye’re no’ going to find more reasons no’ to come now are ye?”
“I, it’s not that, I just … ”
“Ye’ve probably noticed I’m no’ a wee mannie?”
She looked up at the dark-haired Scot. His shoulders and girth were wider than two of her and his long, black bush of a beard framed his face like an ancient warrior’s. She puzzled at his question.
“My instructions are to bring ye home. So that’s where ye’re going.” He stood, picked her up as easily as if she was a doll, and placed her on the mare. He then dumped the bag in front of her so she couldn’t move and, leaping onto his horse, took off toward Riverside with the mare’s reins tied to his saddle. The big Scot did not react to her calls to be left alone and she finally gave up.
As the tall eucalypts shading the homestead came into view, a knot of apprehension formed in her belly at the thought of facing William. She let go of the saddle and wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt as she silently rehearsed the words of her apology to her husband. If she didn’t guard her careless tongue, the remorse she already felt for her assumptions would turn to complete humiliation when she tried to explain her actions to him. But William was also at fault. Had he been more open about his intentions in Sydney Town and whom he would see, none of this would have happened. And sending Callum to fetch her, rather than coming in person, showed just how much he cared for her. Oh dear, she thought, but he wasn’t supposed to care for her was he? This was a marriage of convenience. She sighed, almost ready to let it alone, but her curiosity got the better of her.
She leaned forward and yelled to Callum. “Why did my husband not come for me himself? Could he not bear to do so?”
He reined in next to her so she could hear him. “Now dinna go thinking what’s no’ true,” he barked. “He had a verra important meeting that he couldna’ cancel.”
They stopped outside the house and as soon as Callum took the bag from her, she jumped off the mare, picked up her skirts and rushed toward the back door. She couldn’t explain, even to herself, the sudden urgency to set things right with William.
She called to Callum over her shoulder. “Thank you for coming for me. Now I must find William and make matters right.”
“Wait! Ye need to know — ”
Electra ran up the stairs, down the hall and burst into the drawing room, calling William’s name. She halted as four heads swung toward the door, mouths agape, their words hanging in the air. Shock at the dusty, wild-haired apparition in a prison smock had stunned into silence all occupants of the room. William jumped up from his chair and strode across the room. His face registered surprise at her sudden appearance but a spark of pleasure flickered in his eyes. He took her hand and turned to his guests.
“Everyone, I’d like you to meet my wife, Mrs. Radcliffe.” He turned back to Electra, gently coaxing her into the room. “Electra, allow me to introduce you to Lieutenant Henry Cameron, his wife Annabel, and Captain Roger Hollywell.” No one moved, despite William’s courteous introductions.
He continued, undaunted. “Captain Hollywell and Lieutenant Cameron are here on the governor’s business and Mrs. Cameron was hoping for some cuttings from the gardens.”
The heat rushed up her neck and into her face as her eyes moved slowly from one hostile face to the next. A gentle tug at the hand William held firmly, told her running away was out of the question. So with no other choice, she smiled graciously and extended her grimy hand to his guests. Mr. Hollywell looked to be a harmless, obliging sort, but Lieutenant Cameron had a suspicious countenance and cold blue eyes. The two men gingerly accepted her hand, but Mrs. Cameron simply jerked her head in acknowledgment, her lips pursed and twisted as if there was an unpleasant smell in the room.
“Ahem, ah, I think we may have to give more thought to your proposal after all,” said Lieutenant Cameron, as he glanced sideways at his wife. “Perhaps another time, eh?”
“Come on, Henry, it’s an excellent proposal. Everybody profits and the governor looks good at home. The decision needs to be made now or we’ll miss out,” pressed William.
“That’s the risk we’ll have to take. What say you, Roger?”
“William makes a good point, Henry.” The captain was about to add to his statement when he caught a withering look from the lieutenant. He changed his mind, patted William on the arm, and said instead, “We, er, had best have further discussions before a decision is made.”
Annabel Cameron sidled past Electra and, pulling on her husband’s arm, succeeded in exiting the room. William abandoned further entreaty and handed the men their hats. Electra’s silent embarrassment dissipated in the face of such rudeness. As Annabel Cameron reached the front veranda, Electra pushed past William and stopped her with a dusty hand on her shoulder.
“Mrs. Cameron! You forgot to get your cuttings. Come and we can do it together. I learned all about gardening in prison.”
Annabel Cameron squeaked in terror and ran down the steps to the waiting horse and buggy. Within minutes, all three were lost in a cloud of dust.
“D
ammit! Dammit, Electra. You don’t know what you have done!” said William through clenched teeth. “In five minutes you have destroyed months of delicate negotiations. Are you trying to ruin me?”
“Of course not. But they must not have been overly interested if they could change their minds at the sight of me,” she said indignantly, as she brushed down her skirt. “They’re obviously not worth worrying about.”
William looked at her and shook his head. “I don’t know whether to laugh at what you said to Annabel Cameron, or weep at the failure of all my good work.”
His face told her how important this meeting had been and she remembered her eagerness to put things right with him. “Oh dear, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I burst into your meeting looking like an unwashed convict. I’m sorry about your negotiations and I’m sorry I thought you lay with a whore, but I’m not sorry about what I said to Mrs. Cameron.”
“You think I lay with a whore? What on earth are you talking about?”
“I saw you. In Sydney Town. But Callum has explained to me about Molly Preston.”
“Good God, Electra. Is that what all this nonsense has been about? I thought you had taken leave of your senses when I collected you from Mrs. Grenville’s shop. Why on earth did you not just ask me about it? More to the point, why would you care?”
The heat rushed into her cheeks at his question, and he obviously decided not to press her further. It was a question she had not dared ask herself.
“What would you have me do now?” she whispered.
“The first thing that comes to mind, is a bath,” said William, his lips twitching.
Mollified, Electra raised her eyes to his and flashed a smile that seemed to discompose him. William took a sharp breath and swallowed. He reached over, tilted her chin upwards, and tucked an errant curl behind her ear. Her skin burned where he had touched her and she could feel a tremble in her legs. His eyes continued to gaze into hers and she feared her legs would not hold her much longer.
“Well, Mrs. Radcliffe, are you going to stay put this time?” he asked quietly.
A flippant comment rose to her tongue, but she found it would come no further as she lost herself in his deep blue eyes.
“Hot water ready for Missee bath,” called Shi Liang, breaking the spell. Their eyes held as Electra sidled past William, an undercurrent of need swirling between them.
• • •
Steam curled languidly around her face as she repeatedly filled the sponge with hot, scented water and squeezed it in rivulets down her throat and between her breasts. The sensual feel of warm water caressing every part of her body led her thoughts back to William. How strangely her body had reacted to his touch earlier. One minute she hated him for, as it turned out, imagined insults, and wanted to put as much distance between them as possible. And the next, she was blushing and trembling like an innocent debutante.
Goosebumps rose on her arms, her breasts ached and her nipples hardened as she imagined his hands touching her body. She stopped and sat up in the bath, astonished at herself. Where had these feelings come from? She could not remember ever feeling such things, even with Edward. In fact, by the end of their sad affair, the only strong feelings left for Edward were disgust, anger, and pity. Shuddering, she submerged herself into the water, lathering her auburn curls as if to scrub him from her head.
• • •
As William poured a drink from the glass decanter, he pondered the paradox that was his wife. There was no doubt Electra was a convict. After all, she had been transported to New South Wales. However, she spoke like a lady, held herself like a lady and, he was sure, after seeing her dressed in her new gown, could never be mistaken for anything less. And there was something so compelling about her, despite her contrary nature. She had looked so vulnerable standing on the veranda in her drab smock with her dirty face and rioting curls. Long suppressed feelings had been aroused at the sight of her. He would have to be careful or he would lose himself.
A small sound at the door of the drawing room roused him from his contemplation. He looked over from where he stood to see his wife walk hesitantly toward him. The candlelight danced on the gold and red of her shining hair, which had been caught softly at the nape of her neck and draped over one shoulder. He clenched his jaw, unable to speak or move his gaze from her face. Her skin shone and her tawny-gold eyes blazed in pleasure as she reached him. She wore the green gown they had purchased in Sydney Town, and his eyes swept over her appreciatively. He had been right, she was every bit a lady. As she came closer, he caught the unmistakable scent of gardenias. It was tantalizing. His breathing accelerated.
“You look beautiful Electra. Amazing what one of Shi Liang’s hot baths can do. Although the prison garb had its novelties,” he said taking her hand and turning her around.
“Too much of a novelty for Mrs. Cameron, I suspect,” she answered, smiling at the compliment.
“Yes, well that story will be around Sydney Town in no time. I think you’re going to be quite famous.”
She groaned. “Infamous would be a better description. Your own reputation will probably drop a few notches thanks to me.” Her eyes flicked to their hands and, seeing this, he let go. “Can you tell me about your proposal?” she asked.
“You don’t need to hear about my troubles, let’s just enjoy dinner.”
“I mean it, William. If I am to be part of your life at Riverside then I want to be useful and I want to understand how things work.”
“Hmm, are you sure?”
She nodded.
“Very well, but this has to work both ways.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” she said frowning.
“I have married you and made you part of my household without question of who you are or how you came to be here. You owe me something, Electra.”
She lowered her eyes, nodding slowly. “You’re right, of course. Although my sentencing is a matter of public record.”
“Yes, I could consult the governor’s records but I don’t believe that’s the truth. The truth is what I am asking for.” He had no doubt that her status as a transported convict was not a simple matter. She needed to trust him, and making comments like he had the day before would not be helpful.
She hesitated. “I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about it. Give me time, William. Perhaps you can tell me about your proposal over dinner for now.”
He agreed, knowing he would have to take it slowly, but determined to satisfy his curiosity before too long.
Shi Liang proudly served dishes of hot steaming vegetables from his garden, marinated kangaroo meat, and fragrant rice. He seemed to have forgiven Electra for breaching his domain and bobbed his head happily as she complimented each dish. William poured generous amounts of his homemade wine and saw the tension and uncertainty of the last few days slip from her shoulders.
“Shi Liang seems quite happy with me this evening. Was it something you said to him?” she asked.
William had a mouthful that he finished before answering. “Not exactly. He heard what you said to Annabel Cameron, who won’t even drink from a cup if he has touched it. I swear he laughed hysterically for half an hour in the kitchen and told me later you could do anything you want in the house from now on.”
She looked pleased and prompted him again about his proposal to the governor. He held up his glass, admiring the golden clarity of the liquid.
“How do you find the wine?”
“William, it’s very nice but I don’t know how that — ”
“Bear with me, Electra. My proposal is about the wine,” he said, settling back in his chair.
“You see, grape vines were brought to the colony on the first fleet but have never been more than a small crop, grown mostly for personal consumption. My proposal is to produce a fine grade wine, not only for the colony, but in commercial quantities to export back to England.”
“Goodness. That’s ambitious,” she said.
“Yes, but not unrealistic. I believe the
more products we can produce for export, the more economically viable this country becomes. Our wool will become the finest in the world, and I think our wine production can be just as good.”
“And what did you need from the governor?”
He smiled, surprised and delighted that a woman would show an interest in such matters. “My proposal requested his assistance with access to more suitable land and market contacts in England.”
“I admit to knowing nothing about how things work here, but you say you presented your case well. How could they make a judgment on the feasibility of your proposal based on who you marry?”
“Huh! The English class system is alive and well in our little colony. Also the governor’s advisors see me as a bit of a renegade and don’t always agree with my methods. There is a lot of jealousy and resentment in a small settlement like this. If they can find a reason to refuse me, they will do so.”
“So they would jeopardize the economy of the country out of jealousy?”
“Oh no, they’re smarter than that. My ideas will be given to someone else to develop.”
“But that’s outrageous! Well, there’s nothing else for it. We’ll just have to change their minds,” she said, slapping the table with her napkin.
William laughed at her indignation and felt more than a little comforted by her declaration of solidarity. It seemed there was an astute mind behind her distractingly beautiful face. Even so, he knew there was nothing she could do to change the situation. He refilled her glass and they toasted a prosperous future for Radcliffe wines. At his suggestion, they moved from the dining table over to the fire. Electra shivered and drew a small stool in front of the hearth.
“Are you ready to tell me your story?” asked William, settling into a deep armchair.
• • •
Electra did not respond at first, staring into the fire; her thoughts thousands of miles away, as slowly she went back. Back to the days of safety and privilege as the only child of the Viscount Gascombe. Back to the night when her world began to fall apart.
She glanced over at William and told her story.
