The Postmistress

by Alison Stuart

  ‘He’s only the acting town doctor.’ Even as she said those words, a wave of guilt washed over her at her disloyalty. How could she enter into Richard’s world of belittling Caleb after everything Caleb had done for the town and for her? ‘But he is very good at what he does,’ she added, too late.

  Richard lingered in the post office as Adelaide sorted the mail and dealt with customers, who cast him curious glances. The click of the telegraph came as a relief. With Richard leaning on the counter, it took all of Adelaide’s concentration to complete the telegram, a message for Mr Cowper, on the current share price of the stock. She transcribed her shorthand onto an official form and sealed it in an envelope.

  Richard smiled. ‘Anything interesting?’

  ‘Absolutely none of your business,’ Adelaide said, reaching for her hat.

  ‘Are you going out?’

  ‘Yes, I have to deliver this telegram.’

  ‘Don’t you have anyone to do it for you?’

  ‘No.’ That was not quite true. Danny, if he was not in school, delivered telegrams around the town, for which she paid him sixpence.

  She summoned Netty to mind the counter.

  ‘I’ll walk with you.’ Richard leaped for the door, holding it open for her.

  ‘You can walk where you like,’ Adelaide said.

  An unrelenting February sun beat down on them as they stepped outside. Only the most intrepid townspeople were out in the heat, keeping to the shade of verandahs as they hurried on their way. Richard ran a finger around the starched collar. ‘Is it always this hot?’

  ‘No,’ Adelaide said. ‘It can snow in winter.’

  Richard shuddered. ‘What on earth made you choose this—this—ghastly little place?’ he said, his voice embarrassingly loud above the noise of the stampers.

  Because I thought my father would never find me here.

  ‘I happen to like it,’ Adelaide said.

  ‘How long have you been here?’

  ‘Nearly four years.’

  ‘And before that?’

  ‘I worked in the General Post Office in Melbourne.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Addy, there is so much I don’t know about your life and I get so angry at the thought of you having to work for a living.’

  She glanced up at him. She remembered him as being so very much taller than her. He seemed to have shrunk in the intervening years—he barely topped her by three or four inches.

  ‘It might surprise you but I enjoy it.’

  ‘Not that way, you idiot!’

  The liquid cadence of the Virginian accent interrupted their tense conversation and her heart clenched as she looked across the road at the Britannia Hotel. The tall familiar figure in the bright waistcoat stood on the road, hands on his hips and shirt sleeves rolled up. He seemed to be directing two men who were trying to fit a large desk through a narrow doorway.

  Caleb saw her and waved, indicating for her to stop. He loped across to her. As he reached her, he pulled off his hat, his dark hair sticking to his forehead.

  ‘Mrs Greaves, I clean forgot why I called by this morning.’ His gaze flicked to Richard. ‘Mr Barnwell. I apologise for waylaying you but I have a favour to ask.’ He turned back to the hotel and shouted. ‘Posy, come out here.’

  A tiny figure in an oversized gingham dress stepped onto the verandah. Caleb gestured for the young woman to join them. She bobbed her head and looked fixedly at the ground.

  ‘This here’s Posy Edwards.’

  ‘I know Posy,’ Adelaide said. ‘You worked for the Murrays, didn’t you?’

  Posy gave a curt nod.

  ‘Mr Murray has upped and left town, leaving Posy to fend for herself, so I’ve given her a job as my housekeeper, but as you can see the poor girl was left with only this disgraceful rag to her name. Caleb waved a hand at the shapeless dress that swamped the girl’s slight frame. I was wondering if you could help by asking the good ladies of the town if they have some necessities to help this poor girl?’

  ‘Of course,’ Adelaide said. ‘Netty and I will be glad to help.’

  Posy looked up, a shy smile on her face. ‘Could you, missus?’

  Adelaide smiled. ‘I will speak with the Ladies’ Committee and I can guarantee, by the end of the week, you will be dressed like a duchess. Where are you staying?’

  Posy glanced at Caleb. ‘Dr Hunt has made an arrangement with Yorkie for me to bed down at the Britannia with his maids.’

  ‘Thank you kindly, Mrs Greaves,’ he said.

  His expression of bland politeness told her nothing and she was reminded of the man she had first met—polite but distant. Everything that had passed between them had been locked away.

  She gestured at the labouring workmen, who had managed to get the desk stuck on the door frame. ‘What’s happening at the Britannia?’

  ‘I’m setting up a surgery,’ he said, adding with a rueful smile, ‘of sorts. Mr Russell kindly donated the desk. It will take up pretty much the whole room. Certainly doesn’t leave space for much more than a couple of chairs but at least it’s somewhere folk can find.’

  ‘A surgery? In a hotel?’ Richard said, his lip curled in distaste.

  Caleb’s gaze flicked to Richard. ‘It’s as good a place as any,’ he said. ‘Posy here is giving it a good cleaning with carbolic.’

  Posy looked up at Caleb with what Adelaide could only describe as adoration. She wondered if Caleb made a habit of collecting waifs and strays, like herself … like Danny.

  ‘If you will excuse me, Caleb, I have a telegram to deliver,’ Adelaide said.

  He inclined his head in a gesture of dismissal that took in both herself and Richard and returned to the problem of the desk.

  ‘You are very familiar with that man,’ Richard said.

  Adelaide ignored the stiffness in his tone. ‘He’s a friend.’

  ‘Hardly your sort of people.’

  ‘Who are my sort of people, Richard?’

  He opened and closed his mouth, then said, ‘People of quality—people of the better classes.’

  ‘People like you?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  She quickened her step to hide her annoyance. ‘I find the people of Maiden’s Creek on the whole better company and far more honest than those my father thought were suitable company.’

  Richard huffed. ‘You have been away from England too long, Addy.’

  She stopped and faced him. ‘Tell me again, Richard, how did you find me?’

  He turned guileless blue eyes on her. ‘I told you, your father knew where you were.’

  ‘And how did he know?’

  ‘He had his ways.’ He paused. ‘Oh, very well, you have a right to know. That maid of yours had a sister in Yorkshire, didn’t she?’

  Netty’s sister in Whitby who had taken them in when Adelaide first fled her father’s home. It stood to reason that Netty had kept in touch all these years and she could hardly take issue with her friend for that, but now it seemed so obvious. It wouldn’t have taken much persuasion, particularly if it was silver, for Mary to have kept Sir Daniel informed of her sister’s whereabouts.

  ‘So, he knew about—about Danny?’ She could understand her father not wishing to renew any contact with her, but to cut his own grandson from his life? Ten years of hurt and abandonment threatened to overwhelm her in the main street of Maiden’s Creek. She bit back the sob that had risen in her throat.

  Richard nodded. ‘Of course he did.’ He stopped and caught her arm, swinging her to face him. ‘He was a vengeful, mean old man, Addy.’

  ‘He’s dead and there’s nothing I can say to him now, but what of his estate? What became of that?’

  Richard shrugged. ‘Your cousin, I suppose. I didn’t think to ask. My only thought was of finding you and the child.’

  They were passing the school. The sounds of the younger children reciting their times tables came drifting out the open windows. Danny would be inside the hot classroom, labouring over an arithmetic problem. Another
wave of anger washed over her. Even a few hundred pounds from the man’s massive wealth could have ensured Danny had a good education at a school in Melbourne.

  ‘He made no provision for Danny at all?’

  ‘Not that I am aware of.’

  Fit from the years of climbing the steep paths around Maiden’s Creek and fired with fury at her father, Adelaide made the sharp climb up to the mine without difficulty but Richard fell behind and was panting heavily when he arrived at the flat yard surrounded by mine buildings.

  They met Will Penrose heading for the mine’s main adit. He stopped as Adelaide hailed him.

  ‘Mrs Greaves, what brings you here?’

  ‘Telegram for Mr Cowper.’

  ‘He’s down the main lead. I was just going to him. Give it to me and I’ll take it.’

  Penrose’s gaze moved to the man standing beside her and Adelaide made the introduction. The two men shook hands.

  ‘Sorry I can’t stop,’ Penrose said. ‘If you’re staying in Maiden’s Creek, come back another time and I can give you a tour of the mine, Mr Barnwell.’

  A look of such distaste flickered across Richard’s face it was as though Penrose had offered him a tour of the sewerage works. He composed himself but too late. Penrose’s eyes narrowed and he took the envelope from Adelaide. He bade them both a curt farewell and hurried off to be swallowed up by the uninviting hole in the side of the hill.

  Richard watched him go. ‘If Mr Penrose is another example of the sort of people you now mix with, Adelaide, it is little wonder that your manners are sadly lacking.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean, I have come around the world to rescue you from this life of servitude and you do not seem the least bit grateful. Come away with me, Adelaide. Let me return you to the life you were born to.’

  A couple of the mine’s employees gave them interested glances as they passed and Adelaide grasped Richard by the sleeve of his crumpled linen jacket and turned him back the way they had come.

  As she strode down the hill, Adelaide seethed. At the bottom, she rounded on Richard. Making sure no one was within earshot, she said, ‘If my manners seem a little lacking, it is because this has been a shock. Did you really expect me to fall into your arms? I told you yesterday, I need time to get to know you again. To make my own judgement as to whether that girlish infatuation retains enough fire to turn to mature love and for us to make a life together. All I ask is that you are patient with me.’

  Richard recoiled. ‘Adelaide, please believe me, you have my word as a gentleman, I loved you then and I still love you and I would prove that to you by giving you the time you need.’ He paused. ‘How long do you want?’

  She shook her head. ‘I don’t know. A week or two, maybe?’

  Richard looked up and down the street. ‘And what am I expected to do?’

  Adelaide smiled. ‘There is a lending library at the Mechanics’ Institute. Catch up on some reading, perhaps?’

  Richard took her hand in his. ‘As long as you need, but, if we are to start afresh, perhaps you may allow me to call upon you, Miss Lewis.’

  Adelaide glanced around her and lowered her voice. ‘Mrs Greaves. Please remember that, Richard. I have worked hard to build my respectability and as far as this town is concerned, I am a widow and my name is Greaves. My husband was lost at sea before Daniel was born. No one can ever know. Please promise me that?’

  He squeezed her fingers. ‘Of course, you have my promise. Allow me to court you openly as an old family friend then.’

  She pulled her hand from his grasp. ‘Thank you for your company, Richard. I can make my own way home.’

  With a flick of her skirt, she left him standing in the road and walked briskly the few hundred yards back to the post office. As she passed the Britannia she glanced at the open door of the new medical clinic but saw no sign of Caleb.

  Twenty-Five

  ‘If you want to ’it someone, I’d thank you to do it outside,’ Lil remarked, setting Caleb’s bourbon down in front of him.

  Caleb picked up the glass and turned it between his fingers, watching the light in the golden liquid.

  ‘You’re wrong,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to hit someone but I intend to get drunk, roaring drunk.’

  ‘Fine by me, dearie, as long as you pay,’ Lil said and lined up a second bourbon.

  He was only on the second whiskey when Will Penrose found him.

  Penrose dropped his hat on the table and sat down with an audible groan.

  ‘Bad day?’ Caleb enquired.

  ‘My uncle is pushing too hard.’ Penrose ran a hand over his eyes. ‘The men are tired and that’s when accidents happen. He’s a hard man.’

  ‘Is he hard on you?’

  Penrose shrugged. ‘I’m good at what I do and he values that. When I first came here, the main tunnel looked like it had been dug by a drunken mole. It took a year, but I straightened it. Once we can get the steam engines in and really start digging down that’s where the money is but until then, we are running mostly on fresh air and the goodwill of our investors. What about you? I expected to find you all respectable and looking forward to doctoring the sick and injured of Maiden’s Creek. Instead you look like a man who’s just been told his horse has died.’

  ‘Everything’s wonderful, just wonderful,’ Caleb replied with heavy irony. When his friend just looked at him with his eyebrow cocked, he conceded, ‘Some English cove has turned up claiming to be an old friend of Adelaide’s family.’

  ‘Oh, him. Barn—Barnwell. I met him today. He was trailing around after Adelaide like an overeager puppy.’

  Caleb set his empty glass down with a thump.

  ‘Is that your third or fourth drink tonight?’

  ‘Only my second.’

  ‘You sent for me. Was it to moan about Adelaide or are you going to tell me why you wanted to see me?’ Penrose asked.

  Caleb stared at the glass while he pondered the sense of a refill. He remembered why he had wanted to see Penrose and pushed the glass aside. He pulled the quartz Adelaide had found from his pocket and handed it to him. ‘Have a look at this. Found it the other day up at Shenandoah. When I had a dig around, it looked like there might be a decent seam. Tell me I’m not going mad?’

  Penrose glanced around, but Lil’s Place was quiet and Lil herself preoccupied in the kitchen. ‘Don’t know who’s watching,’ he said and held the rock below the table, turning it over in his hand and scraping at the sparkling line of gold with his thumbnail.

  When his eyes met Caleb’s, they shone. ‘It’s the real thing,’ he said. ‘And a good sample too. I’ll get it crushed and properly analysed. But if you want investors you are going to need more than just a lump of rock. We’ll need to take some more samples.’

  Caleb nodded, catching Penrose’s excitement. ‘This changes everything, doesn’t it? Correct me if I’m wrong, Penrose, but if this was found on the surface, why dig an adit? Can’t we just mine from the top down?’

  Penrose nodded. ‘Certainly cheaper … the five-head stamper has made the old one redundant. I can tell my uncle that a mine up the valley has bought it. We’ll have to find the money for it. We need a couple of teams of experienced men—’ He broke off. ‘We’re getting ahead of ourselves. First I need to get some good samples. This is going to take a bit of thought and planning, Hunt.’

  ‘Is it worth asking your uncle for advice?’

  Penrose’s mouth tightened. ‘No. It’s a hard thing to say about your own family, but I don’t entirely trust him,’ he said. ‘He’s ruthless when it comes to business. I’ve seen him destroy a couple of the mining companies adjoining the Maiden’s Creek Mine and then buy them out for a fraction of their worth.’

  ‘If you want to join with me, this find could make independent men of us both,’ Caleb said.

  Penrose turned the rock in his hand. ‘It would be good to be my own man again.’

  A gurgle of female laughter echoed in the room and both men tur
ned. Sissy and Nell had entered and were settling themselves at a table near the door. Seeing Penrose, Sissy waved and made to rise, but Lil rolled in from the kitchen and Sissy sank back in her seat.

  ‘So why don’t you marry that girl of yours?’ Caleb asked.

  Penrose’s smile faded. ‘That is complicated.’

  ‘She’s not tied to Lil, is she?’

  ‘No, she can leave any time she wants, but—’

  ‘Respectable men don’t marry whores,’ Caleb said, and when his friend winced, he knew he had hit on the truth. A strange sense of disappointment washed over him.

  Penrose stared down at the stained and scarred table. ‘You have to understand, Caleb, in my class in society it would be total social disaster. I can’t pass her off as a suitable wife—she’s from the slums of London, labelled as soon as she opens her mouth. And then someone is bound to start nosing around her past and discover, well, you know.’

  Caleb leaned forward. ‘It’s your life, Penrose, but if you have no intention of making an honest woman of her, don’t you think she has the right to know? I can see by the way she looks at you that she’s thinking of you as her saviour, the one who’s going to take her away from this life.’

  Penrose’s mouth drooped. ‘I know. If it makes me a cad—’

  ‘It does and don’t say “but she’s just a whore”. She’s a woman and you’re going to break her heart, Will Penrose.’

  ‘And you’re any better?’ Penrose snapped back. ‘The whole town is already talking about you and Adelaide Greaves.’

  Caleb sat back in his chair and picked up his glass. ‘Looks like I was mistaken, Penrose. That bloody Englishman is acting mighty proprietorial. “Old family friend”.’ He scoffed and reached over the bar for the concealed bottle.

  Penrose tugged at his waistcoat and Caleb looked up.

  Richard Barnwell stood in the doorway, perusing the room. In his linen suit and cravat, no one could have looked more out of place. His gaze swept the room, passing over Caleb and Penrose in their dark corner. It came to rest on the girls drinking lemonade at their table near the bar.