During those weekends at the Grange I grew to know him very well. He could be witty, amusing and fun to be with.
I liked to ride round the estate with him and see the respect shown to him by the tenants. I could not imagine Lucian’s being dependent upon a sister. Camilla, of course, was not the type to domineer. For one thing, she was too busy with her own life.
So I thought often of Lawrence, but Lucian was constantly in my mind.
I had received two letters from Australia one from Elsie, the other from James.
My dear Carmel [wrote Elsie], How are you getting on over there ? You should have seen the excitement here when we heard of Gertie’s engagement! Her mother says she sounds very happy in her letters. I read yours to them and all round it seems as though Gertie has done very well.
Poor Mr. and Mrs. Forman! Happy as they are for Gertie, they’re a little sad. Well, naturally. This was supposed to be a holiday, and it looks as though she has gone for good. She does say that she and her husband will make a trip over to see the family and that’s a bit of a comfort to them. And now James has gone off prospecting, or whatever they call it. Well, that’s how life goes and thank goodness they’ve got over that terrible disaster.
Fancy that Dr. Emmerson being on the ship! He sounds very nice and it’s good that his sister and you have become such good friends. Well, I must say, it all seems to have turned out very well for you two girls.
You sound so much better, dear. No sense in being down-hearted. I knew a complete change was what you wanted. Gertie says that you are really having a good time.
Things here are much the same. It is grand having Joe around. He fits in here so well. He’s sitting out in the garden now, waiting for me to join him. The harbour looks just the same as it did the day you came in . that very first time. I shall always remember that day. You can picture it all. The kookaburras have been noisy today. You always liked them, didn’t you? You wondered whatever they were laughing about when you first heard them.
Well, dear, go on enjoying yourself. It’s what you need. We miss you, and when you come back, there’ll be a big welcome for you. You must decide, and remember first of all, be happy! It’s what Toby would have wanted and it’s what I want too.
With lots and lots of love from Joe and me, Elsie.
I sat for a few minutes, thinking of her and how fortunate I was when Toby took me to her. Then I opened James’s letter.
My dear Carmel, How are you getting on? There’s a lot of excitement here about Gertie’s wedding. Too bad the family won’t be there. This fellow she is marrying seems to me a gift from heaven, according to her. Hope it’s true.
Well, I went off as I said I would. We got things in order on the property and my father knew I would never be satisfied until I’d had my try, and he said it would be all right for me to go.
So here I am. I can’t tell you how exciting it is! You would like it.
There’s something in the air. All these men, some with their families.
They talk of nothing but opals. That’s on the rare occasions when they are not working, which they are doing most of the time.
It can be pretty hot here. It’s low gullies and bush and the mosquitoes can be a pest-and as for the flies! Well, you can imagine. There’s lots of fossicking going on but that’s the amateurs.
It’s fascinating and can be cruelly disappointing. Sometimes you think you’ve found something really fine and it turns out to be pure potch.
That means rubbish.
It’s jolly hard work. We live in a sort of shanty town. Tents, huts, and water is hard to come by. Some say it’s as precious as opals.
That’ll give you an idea. Saturday nights are fun. That’s when we dance, sing and swap yarns . the stories of our lives, all highly dramatized, as you can imagine. Last Saturday we roasted a pig and made dampers to go with it. It’s a hard life but worth it, especially for those moments when you hit on the real stuff.
I’ve had two reasonably good finds, and I’m a beginner as yet, so it is not bad.
By the way, you’ll be interested to hear this. Do you remember that old sundowner? He turned up again. Not to work. That’s not his line.
But just to do a bit of fossicking and prowl round and see if there was anything he could lay his hands on. He was found dead outside the camp, looking as if he’d been in a fight.
It was a bit awkward for a time. You see, some of them had heard what he had done to our property, and they all looked to me. That seemed natural enough. They reckoned I wouldn’t have let him get away with what he did to my family.
It’s a bit of a mystery. I reckon one of the men found him stealing and finished him off. We’ve got some here, as you can imagine, who wouldn’t think twice about it. However, there he was, just outside the camp . dead.
A lot of questions were asked, and of course, I knew they were looking at me. But the fellow had made himself unpopular in other quarters. They haven’t found out who did it, but they’ve dropped inquiries now. They found something on him little bits of opal, but nobody’s claimed them. It was obvious that the rogue had stolen them. Well, he got what was coming to him. Rough justice, really.
Well, that’s life out here. In the raw, you might say. But just imagine the joy of finding that stone tucked away in some crack or cavity. Isn’t it a marvel that a mixture of sand and water and a few other elements-can crystallize into a thing of such beauty? Forgive me. I’m apt to run on when I get on to this subject.
Now to the serious business. Carmel, I am waiting for you to come back. I’m going to find that precious stone and it’s going to make our future-yours and mine. We’ll have a wonderful life. I shall expiate my sin of leaving you forlorn in wicked Suez and expunge myself of guilt for ever more. How’s that for a dramatic declaration?
I know that you and I were meant for each other. I only have to find that stone, the one which will astonish the world and make our fortune. Then I shall wait no longer. I shall pack up my tools and board the first ship for home. Write to me soon.
Your loving millionaire-to-be, James.
I let the letter fall from my hands. It brought him back so vividly.
Dear James! I wondered if he would find his dream. And if he came back . ? There was something about James which suggested that, once he had made up his mind, he would not lightly relinquish his desire. He was obviously enduring a life of hardship now.
Then I thought of the sundowner, of James’s anger when he discovered that the man had returned to the property, and with what rage he had ordered him off. And then the outcome.
Suppose when that man came to the camp James had discovered him there?
And the man had died. He had an evil reputation. I knew how great James’s wrath would have been.
Could it be possible? Could he have fought with the man?
Had James told me all?
And, for some reason, I found I was thinking of Lucian.
I was spending the weekend at the Emmersons’ cottage. Dorothy and I had travelled down together on the Friday afternoon.
“How I look forward to these weekends,” she said.
“Sometimes I think I enjoy the place more because I don’t see it as often as I should like.”
“You couldn’t possibly be here all the time, I suppose?”
“There’s Lawrence’s work.”
“He’d be well looked after in Town. I suppose you could spend a little more time here.”
“I know that he’s well looked after, but I like to be there to make sure.”
I smiled at her affectionately.
“And Lawrence certainly appreciates that.”
She was a little thoughtful.
“He is the best man in the world. Well, there is no need for me to tell you that.”
Sometimes I wondered what she would have felt if Lawrence married. It would change her position considerably. On the other hand, if she considered it was for his good, she would waive all other considerations, I was
sure. But I did believe that she had considered me for the role and I fancied I detected an expectancy in her that weekend. I wondered whether there was a certain telepathy between the brother and sister, or even whether they had discussed the matter though I thought that hardly likely.
We had said we would go for a ride and have lunch out.
“I expect he wants to show you another of his pet inns,” said Dorothy.
She was asked to accompany us but said she had not the time. She had promised to look out some jumble for the church sale, and she wanted to take it over to Mrs. Want age and with her put a price on some of the goods they already had.
So Lawrence and I set out. We went to our favourite spot, the ruined castle, and there we tethered our horses and climbed the slope to the battlements.
Lawrence did not hesitate and when we had seated our selves, came straight to the point.
“Carmel, I know I am some years older than you, but I think you are quite fond of me and Dorothy as well, of course.”
He pulled up a blade of grass and, studying it, went on: “Well, we get along, don’t we, the three of us? These weekends have been very happy for me. I don’t think I H have ever been so happy before. I love you.
I know that it is not very long since we caught up with each other, but there was that incident. “
I was not surprised, of course, but I was a little at a loss.
I should have been prepared, but I hesitated, and he continued: “We could be married soon … just as soon as you are ready. We have the London place and this to step into.”
“Lawrence,” I said quickly, “I don’t think I want to be married … not just yet. Everything seems to have happened so quickly since I came home.”
“Of course. I understand that. You need time. Of course you do. Well, there is no great hurry. I don’t want you to go back to Australia and forget all about us.”
“I shan’t do that, I assure you. It is just that I should like to go on as we are … for a time.”
“Then we shall. Why not? It’s very pleasant. Then the idea is not too absurd to you? My age … ?”
“Oh, Lawrence,” I cried.
“That would not matter in the least. It’s not so much, after all. It is just that I am … unready.”
“I understand. I feel that I have known you for a long time. Your father and I were good friends … long before I met you. He talked about you a great deal. He was very proud of his daughter. Then we met and we had our little adventure. You see, it doesn’t seem such a short acquaintance to me.”
“You and Dorothy have been so good to me. I can’t tell you how much you have both done for me. I was very wretched and you were a comfort on the ship … Then, having me here so often and being my very good friends.”
He took my hand and pressed it.
“You are getting over it gradually. I know you never will-quite- but it has faded a little, hasn’t it?
The grief is not quite so intense. “
“I have been so fortunate in my friends. Elsie, Gertie, the Hysons, you and Dorothy.”
“It is a great joy to us that we have been able to help. We both love you dearly, Carmel.”
“Thank you, Lawrence,” I said.
“And I love you both. But you see, marriage … it’s such an undertaking. It is something I should have to think about. I am so unsure…”
“Of course, of course. Let us put it aside for the moment. I shall ask you again when you have had time to discover how you really feel.”
He took my hand and helped me to rise and, as I stood beside him, he kissed my cheek.
“Oh Lawrence,” I said.
“Thank you. You are so good and kind. I know I could be happy with you … and Dorothy … but…”
“Of course, I understand.”
He took my arm and we went to the horses.
We lunched in a quaint old inn, the origins of which he described enthusiastically, and then we rode back.
Dorothy was home, waiting for us, and I was sure she knew that he had asked me. I had the impression that she was waiting for an announcement and was disappointed when it was not made.
Genie’s wedding preparations were going on apace.
Between them, she and Aunt Beatrice had found the house and were now in the process of furnishing it. It was about ten minutes’ walk from the Hyson establishment, situated in a tree-lined street, had a small but pleasant garden and that essential nursery.
I was often called upon to help choose some piece of furniture or to give my opinion on some new plan; and I must say, I was caught up in the general excitement.
I had thought a great deal about Lawrence’s proposal. I smiled to recall it. I could remember every word. It was just what I would have expected it to be-dignified, gallant not exactly what one would call passionate. It was characteristic of Lawrence.
I did think about it very seriously. I was sure that I did not want to go back to Australia. My life was not there among the opal fields of Lightning Ridge or some such place. Much as I loved Elsie, I had always subconsciously felt that England was home. If Toby had been there, it would not have mattered where I was. That would have been where I wanted to be. Perhaps that was an indication. I wanted to be where the people I loved most were. If I had loved James enough to marry him, it would not have mattered where I lived.
There came an invitation to the Grange and I felt that excitement which this never failed to bring.
Lucian continued to puzzle me, although I saw less of that strange, brooding mood which came to him very briefly from time to time. There was an added interest now. I had made a habit of going to see Bridget when I was there. She always seemed pleased to see me.
Jemima Cray did not, however, share the child’s enthusiasm; but sometimes I would find Bridget in the garden, alone with Mary the nursery maid, then I would spend some time with her. Mary seemed almost conspiratorial at such times, which bothered me a little. It seemed such an odd situation. Why had I not met the child, as I surely should have done in normal circumstances? Bridget herself was normal enough. Mary was always watchful during these sessions in the grounds, and I knew it was because she was afraid that Jemima Cray would suddenly descend upon us.
So I happily packed my bag and set forth, full of that expectation which I always felt at the prospect of a visit to the Grange.
Lucian met me at the station as usual, and we set off in high spirits.
Lady Crompton now greeted me with even more friendliness than she had shown when I first appeared. I think she was rather pleased to have a visitor whom she did not have to treat with too much ceremony. She told me at great length about her rheumatism and how it prevented her from doing as much as she had in the past. She enjoyed that topic and I was a good listener. Then she liked to hear about Australia and the various places round the world which I had visited.
Lucian was pleased and amused by her pleasure in my company.
“My mother does not get on so well with everybody,” he commented with a grin.
Camilla had been there once or twice, and she and I had become friends. She told me how life at the Grange had changed in the last years.
“There used to be a great deal of entertaining when my father was alive,” she said.
“Lucian doesn’t seem to have the same taste for it. In fact, everything seemed to change when he married.”
On the Saturday, Lucian and I went riding. He had several calls to make round the estate and I fancied he liked me to go with him. I was beginning to know some of the workers and tenants, which I found interesting.
I was not sure whether I imagined it or whether I really did intercept some significant looks. People often began speculating when they saw a man and a woman together enjoying each other’s company. Did some of these people wonder whether I should be the next Lady Crompton, or was I thinking that, because of James and Lawrence, every man who showed me friendship was thinking of asking me to marry him? People are inclined to imagine that w
hen a young man is unmarried, he must be in need of a wife. That was by no means a certainty and when one has had an unsatisfactory experience, there would be a certain wariness at the prospect of repeating it, I had a notion that that was how Lucian felt, and I must confess that I found those sly looks a little disconcerting.
We had returned to the Grange. Lucian leaped down from his horse to assist me to dismount. He looked up at me and smiled as he took both my hands.
There was a decided pause and I could not quite interpret the expression in his eyes, but it was very warm.
He said: “I can’t tell you how glad I am that you came back, Carmel.”
“So am I,” I answered.
I heard a footstep close at hand and, looking beyond Lucian, I saw Jemima Cray walking close to the stable on her way to the house.
Just before I went to dinner that evening, I paid a visit to the nursery to see Bridget. When I entered the room she ran to me and clasped my knees. It was an endearing habit she had. Then she wanted me to sit on the floor with her and form the bricks to make a picture. There were pigs and oxen, sheep and cows; she was very fond of these picture puzzles. She was an enchanting child. I wondered afresh why Lucian never mentioned her. Well, she had the enigmatic Jemima Cray, whom she obviously loved, and there was no doubt of Jemima’s devotion to her.
While we sat there, Jemima appeared. I knew she would find some excuse to separate me from Bridget. She definitely did not like my friendship with the child.
To my surprise, she said quite affably: “Good afternoon, Miss Sinclair. I wonder if I could have a word with you?”
“But of course,” I replied.
“Mary, take Miss Bridget into her bedroom. She can have her milk there. You can get it for her. Not too hot, mind.”
Mary looked at the clock on the wall. Like her, I knew the nursery ritual. It was too soon for Bridget’s milk.
“Do as you are told,” said Jemima in a voice which must be obeyed; and Mary prepared to carry out the order.
Bridget protested.
“No,” she said.
The Black Opal Page 23
