The Trader's Reward

by Anna Jacobs

  Rémi gaped at them then frowned in puzzlement. ‘But you don’t trade with Australia.’

  ‘No. You won’t be working for us there. In fact, you won’t be working for us ever again.’

  ‘I have no desire whatsoever to go to Australia. And anyway, what about The Debt?’ He noted in amusement that his uncle didn’t even realise he was mocking them.

  ‘We shall consider it to have been paid in full. It wanted only two more years’ payments at the slow rate you could manage on your wages.’

  Relief ran through Rémi like a warm fire. ‘I’m grateful, but I repeat, I have no desire whatsoever to go to Australia. Mon dieu, what would I do with myself there?’

  His uncle scowled at him. ‘If you don’t go, you can take yourself off wherever you like, but I won’t be financing you. If you go to Australia, however …’

  Again he let the words hang in the air, but the implication was that he would pay his nephew to go away, and that made the proposition more interesting, worth consideration anyway.

  ‘Oh?’ Rémi cocked his head as a sign that he was listening.

  ‘In your reading, have you ever come across the phrase “remittance man”, by any chance?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ He hadn’t read much about Australia.

  ‘It means someone sent to the colonies and paid to stay there – hence the word “remittance”.’

  Hell, they were deadly serious about getting rid of him completely, Rémi thought, feeling shocked. They not only intended to send him as far away as they could, but would pay out good money to keep him there.

  ‘You’re a fool if you don’t take up Pa’s offer, Rémi,’ his cousin Henry said sharply when he didn’t respond.

  Uncle Arnold frowned at his son and continued to speak as slowly and deliberately as always. ‘If you go to Australia, nephew, I’m prepared to make you an allowance – a generous one, given the circumstances – and if anything happens to me, your cousins will honour it for as long as you live.’

  ‘How much?’

  His uncle glared at him for this bluntness, but condescended to get to the point. ‘Two hundred pounds a year, on condition that you stay there. The allowance would cease immediately if you returned to England, or indeed moved to anywhere in the northern hemisphere, and it would never be resumed. You would be required to sign a legal document agreeing to that.’

  Rémi breathed in very carefully and slowly, feeling a sense of panic at how neatly they were tying him into a plan that still didn’t appeal to him.

  ‘You don’t have any choice but to accept.’ His cousin Randall didn’t attempt to hide his feelings, his expression and tone of voice showing quite clearly the relish with which he contemplated the prospect of getting rid of the cousin who had embarrassed the family in various ways over the years.

  Rémi measured out his words. ‘I do have a choice. However, if the offer were a little more tempting, I might accept it. But two hundred pounds is not much upon which to make a new life. I shall need to buy a house, furniture, all sorts of things, as well as requiring money to live on.’ He waited.

  The silence was as heavy as lead.

  ‘How much would you consider “tempting”?’ his uncle asked.

  ‘Five hundred pounds a year.’

  ‘Never.’

  ‘I’ve been talking to Mrs Hauder. She’s offered me a post as her secretary.’

  His uncle’s face turned puce. And no wonder. Mrs Hauder always called her young man of the moment a ‘secretary’. She hadn’t approached Rémi, but as his uncle didn’t move in the same circles as her, he wouldn’t know that.

  ‘Three hundred, then, and not a penny more. On condition you have nothing more to do with Mrs Hauder.’

  ‘Plus another hundred to set myself up there.’ He held his breath as that was greeted with silence.

  ‘Very well. A once-only payment.’

  Rémi inclined his head, hoping he’d hidden his relief that his bluff had paid off. ‘It is, as you say, Uncle, a generous offer, and I’m not a fool. I shall, however, take legal advice before I sign anything this time. And I do have one other condition.’

  He held up a hand as his uncle took a deep breath, ready to shout at him. ‘It’s nothing to do with the annual payments. I’d like to take my books and Aunt Jane’s furniture with me, which you’ve kindly been storing here in the attic. I’m very fond of the things she left me. Their transportation would need to be paid for as well.’

  His uncle contemplated this, head on one side, chewing the corner of his lip, then shrugged. ‘Very well.’

  ‘Thank you. In that case, I accept your kind offer.’

  All four of them let out their breath in a sound that combined relief with an echo of pain. How the senior branch of the Newland family hated parting with money!

  His uncle leaned forward and Rémi tensed.

  ‘There’s a ship sailing in a week or so. Henry will book your passage and arrange for the shipping of the goods you specify, plus any of the other possessions and clothes you wish to take from your room here. James will escort you round the ships’ chandlers to outfit you for the voyage. The legal documents will be ready for signing tomorrow.’

  Rémi sucked in a breath at how quickly he’d have to leave, but managed to say quietly, ‘Fine.’ He glanced at the clock, surprised that only a bare half hour had passed since his return to the house. As quickly and easily as that, they’d put matters in train to get rid of him.

  His uncle took out his pocket watch. ‘And now that’s settled, I think we should have our dinner. No need to change your clothes tonight, Rémi. We don’t have any guests. What about you, boys? Will you join us?’

  Only James agreed to stay to dinner with his parents. Rémi stayed where he was as Uncle Arnold escorted his two eldest sons out to say a quick goodbye to their mother. James was the cousin with whom Rémi got on best, though even so, they weren’t exactly close.

  ‘You shouldn’t have defied him in front of his employees today, Rémi, old boy. I’d have thought even you had more sense. Coming on top of your rather public affair with that woman, it was, as Papa said, the final straw.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. I hated working on accounts, as you well know. I never understood why he put me there.’

  ‘His idea of punishment and bringing you into line. I could have told him it wouldn’t work. It pushed you into rebellion, instead. I hope you find something more to your taste in Australia, old man.’

  ‘I dare say I shall. I’ve heard that Sydney is quite a civilised place now.’

  ‘Ah. Well, the thing is … Papa isn’t sending you to Sydney, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Where, then?’

  ‘He took advice from an acquaintance who has relatives in the Antipodes. Sydney’s grown into quite a big city now and Pa feels there would be too many temptations there for you to waste your money. So he’s sending you to the Swan River Colony – though people mostly call it Western Australia now. It’s a very quiet sort of place, apparently. Roughly ten times as big as Britain, but with a population of only about thirty thousand to the whole colony. And a large chunk of it is useless desert.’

  Anger rose in Rémi, scalding hot, and he jumped to his feet with an involuntary exclamation. But he’d had years of controlling his feelings, and even with James, he managed to close his lips on any revealing outburst. He had, after all, just won more money for himself. He must keep that in mind. And there would no doubt be some decent people in Western Australia.

  James stood up too and came across to clap him on the shoulder. ‘There’s only one way to get your own back on Papa, you know.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Make a success of your new life. Doesn’t matter how you do it, but make money. It’s the one and only thing Papa respects.’

  ‘I thought I’d proved to him beyond doubt that I have no business sense,’ Rémi said lightly.

  ‘You’ve proved that you have no interest in our family business. Which isn’t quite the same
thing.’ He gave his cousin a gentle nudge. ‘Look, I’ll try to fend Papa off you as much I can during dinner. Try not to make Mama cry. She’s upset about this. It’s not easy being married to a juggernaut like Papa.’

  Rémi shrugged and followed his cousin into the dining room. He couldn’t think about the future properly until he was on his own. For the moment all he could do was keep quiet and eat his dinner. He wasn’t hungry, was more shocked than anything, but he forced himself to eat and chat politely to his aunt.

  He was grateful to James, who did manage to fend off some of the hectoring and lectures. Although James was five years younger than him, he’d been kind to Rémi over the years in many small ways.

  After the meal ended, Rémi sat by his aunt in the drawing room while his uncle unlocked the tantalus and took out the cut glass decanter of brandy, pouring some for himself and James, not offering any to his nephew. Another sign of his displeasure.

  How petty are your ways! Rémi thought and turned to his aunt.

  She was looking at him sadly, tears welling in her eyes. ‘I’m so sorry you’re leaving us, Rémi,’ she said in a low voice.

  ‘I’ll miss you. But it’ll be an adventure, won’t it?’

  ‘You’ll write?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  He was surprised to realise he meant it about the adventure. He might dislike the way this was being done, but it would mean freedom. At last. He was itching to find out more about the place to which he was going, itching to start on his journey, and leave the ink and accounts behind.

  He grinned as he got ready for bed that night. So he was going to be a remittance man, was he? Well, that wasn’t all bad. He’d have more money than ever before in his whole life and since he had never learned to be extravagant, he had no doubt he’d manage perfectly well on it.

  In fact, he’d make sure he did. He wasn’t going down the same path as his father, and he’d be damned if he’d ever go cap in hand to his uncle for more help.

  His last thought as he drifted towards sleep was: he’d be completely on his own in Australia. He wasn’t sure about that aspect of his new life. He’d never been completely without family and friends before.

  Well, he’d make new friends … wouldn’t he? Surely he would.

  6

  After the two women had cleared away the breakfast, Ma said, ‘Wait for me in the front room, Cara, and I’ll help you get ready for the wedding.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘No, don’t argue. I’ll join you in a minute.’ When Cara had gone, she turned to her husband. ‘Will you keep an eye on Niamh, Patrick? You and I are the only ones who’re ready, and very nice you look too.’ She went across to pat his cheek.

  He pulled her into his arms and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. ‘You look lovely today. Are you sure you’re not the bride?’

  ‘Get on with you!’ But she smiled at him, because she knew he meant it, though she had never been lovely, even in her youth.

  She looked disapprovingly at her son-in-law. ‘While I help Cara get ready, you need to do something about your appearance, Fergus my lad. I’ve laid out your Sunday best and your sons’ best clothes, too. Go upstairs with your Da and get changed, boys. You’ll not be going to school today.’

  The two of them cheered.

  She gave Fergus a little push. ‘And hurry up about it. We don’t want to be late. I had the devil’s own job persuading Father Benedict to marry you, as it was. He said to be there at nine o’clock sharp.’

  ‘But I thought we four were just making a quick trip to the church to get married? You said you’d arranged for Mrs Bell next door to keep an eye on the baby and the boys would be at school.’

  ‘Well, I changed my mind, didn’t I? It might be a small wedding, but the whole family is going, and I’ll carry the baby today, not Cara. We’re dressing up for it because we’re not cheating Cara of a special day. It means a lot to a woman, her wedding does.’

  She stared round so fiercely as she said this, no one dared to protest. When she made another shooing movement, Fergus took his sons upstairs.

  As Mrs Grady joined her in the front room, Cara said, ‘I don’t have anything special to wear today, Mrs Grady, so there isn’t much getting ready to do. I sponged down my blue dress, to get the stains off, but that was the best I could do.’

  ‘Call me Ma, like Fergus does, from now on, dear. And you do have something special to wear. I got Mrs Sealey to speak to your aunt, who sent this.’ She gestured to the large, well-worn carpet bag which had been delivered late the previous day.

  Cara had been exhausted and ready for bed after a nearly sleepless night with little Niamh the night before that, and hadn’t paid it much attention when a lad delivered it to the house. When it was whisked into the front room without an explanation, she’d assumed it was something the Gradys had bought for the trip to Australia.

  ‘I didn’t say anything because you were asleep on your feet, but your aunt persuaded your mother to sneak out one of your good dresses for you to wear today, and a few other things too. She and your aunt said to tell you they were delighted to hear that you were getting married, and they wish you and your husband well in Australia.’

  But they hadn’t offered to come to her wedding, had they? Cara thought bitterly. But perhaps … ‘Did they send a note with it?’

  ‘No. I’m sorry.’

  ‘What about my father? Was he delighted about me getting married?’

  Ma patted her in wordless sympathy. ‘Your aunt told Mrs Sealey they hadn’t said anything to him about this, and why would you want his approval anyway? The man’s a cruel monster and if I ever meet him, I’ll tell him that to his face, so I will. Now, open your bag and let’s be seeing what they’ve sent you.’

  Cara’s fingers were trembling as she opened it. The bag was so full, things spilled out. Tears came into her eyes as she found her new maroon skirt and bodice carefully rolled up on top. She shook them out, delighted that they weren’t badly wrinkled, pleased that her mother had sent this outfit, which Cara had chosen with such care. She’d never even had the chance to wear it before being turned out of her home, so it was brand new.

  She held it to her chest and buried her face in its soft folds for a moment, then went back to the bag.

  Into it were squashed some of her everyday clothes, both winter and summer garments, as well as petticoats and underwear, stockings and two pairs of shoes.

  But though she searched carefully, there was no note hidden anywhere in the bag. Not one word from her mother.

  ‘No crying, darlin’,’ Ma said softly. ‘This is your wedding day and I want you to have some good memories of it.’

  But Cara could see that Ma’s eyes were also brimming with sympathetic tears. On an impulse she hugged the older woman. ‘You’re the most generous person I’ve ever met, Ma. I know this must be painful for you, coming so soon after your daughter’s death.’

  ‘Nothing we do will bring my Eileen back, but I can see how much you love her child, and that comforts me.’

  But was Fergus regretting his decision to marry again? Cara wondered. He’d hardly said a word to her since his abrupt proposal, even though he was nearby most of the time. With so few days before they left, he’d stopped going to work now in order to sell or otherwise dispose of the furniture and household items. He’d worked in the back yard the previous day, making a bigger box for his tools. It was a beautifully made thing, the wood smooth and new.

  Ma helped Cara to dress, marvelling openly at the beauty of the clothes and underclothes. When the bride was ready, the older woman stood back, staring at her, looking rather shocked now.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘I hadn’t realised …’

  ‘Realised what?’ Cara looked down at herself, worried that something was wrong.

  ‘I didn’t realise how much of a lady you were.’

  ‘I’m not a lady now.’

  ‘You are so. You behave well in a difficult situa
tion, and today you look dainty and ladylike. Fergus is a lucky man in more ways than one.’

  ‘I’m the lucky one, to have found someone willing to overlook what happened.’

  Ma gave Cara a shake. ‘Don’t ever say that again. You didn’t do anything wrong, some man did. May he rot in hell!’

  ‘My father said I must have encouraged him. He’s a friend of my father still.’

  ‘Cara, we’ve lived closely together for weeks, and I’m old enough to tell the good girls from the bad. You’re a good one. And remember this: you and Fergus are marrying because you both need each other. Patrick and I need you, too, to raise our grandchildren. So this marriage is a good bargain for every single one of us. That’s not a bad starting point for a new life, now is it?’

  ‘I suppose not.’

  ‘And don’t ever again apologise to anyone for what wasn’t your fault.’

  ‘Thank you.’ The words were muffled but Ma returned the hug that went with them and the two women stood closely together for a few moments.

  Then footsteps clattered down the stairs and the clock in the kitchen chimed the quarter hour.

  ‘Ah, will you listen to me going on when we’re in a hurry.’ Alana gave Cara a push towards the door. ‘Let’s go and show them how nice you look, and I’ll check that they’re decent. Then we must set off for the church.’

  It felt wrong to Fergus to be wearing his Sunday best on a weekday. Well, everything felt strange at the moment. He wasn’t going to work, items he’d struggled to buy were disappearing from his house one by one as he sold them, usually for far less than he’d paid for them. And he was getting married today for the second time.

  In the slow, dark hours of the night, he sometimes wondered if this was all a dream – or perhaps a nightmare.

  He turned as he heard the door to the front room open, waiting for Cara to come and join them in the kitchen. But he wasn’t prepared for what he saw.

  She flushed under his gaze, but he couldn’t stop gaping at her. She wasn’t beautiful, not exactly, because her face was too narrow and her nose a trifle long, but she looked pretty and so ladylike today, he felt as if she didn’t belong here, as if she was a stranger he’d never met before.