Colonial Daughter

by Heather Garside

  However, Mrs Greenwood seemed immune to her charm. Her cold gaze flickered to Lloyd and back again. ‘But why have you arrived today? Why did you not send us word?’ She looked at Louise’s riding habit and sniffed derisively. ‘An unusual way to present yourself, young lady. Where did you acquire your “escort”?’

  He noticed Louise clenching her teeth at the woman’s insinuating tone and knowing how volatile her temper could be, quickly stepped in. ‘I was introduced to Miss Forrest in Banana, Mrs Greenwood. I have a property on the Dawson and I was in town getting supplies. Seeing as how she was stranded there with no-one come to meet her, I offered to bring her out.’

  Mrs Greenwood looked back to Louise, obviously unappeased. ‘You haven’t explained why you’re early. Could it be that we had the dates wrong?’

  From her tone, it was obvious she believed no such thing and Louise bit her lip. ‘If you’ll allow me a moment, Mrs Greenwood, I shall explain. Mr Barclay, my former employer, was called away suddenly with his family to a dying relative. I had nowhere else to go, so I had no alternative but to travel here immediately. Unfortunately my luggage was stolen at Westwood, leaving me with only a valise’– she’d left her swag at Myvanwy – ‘and although I notified the police they had little hope of its recovery.’

  Lloyd suppressed a grin. It was an unlikely tale at best, yet it was spoken with such candour that Mrs Greenwood was obviously left struggling with the possibility that it might be the truth. She stared hard at Louise for a moment or two and Louise stared unflinchingly back. At last she said ungraciously, ‘Since you’re here I suppose we may as well allow you to prove your worth, or otherwise. If you’ll collect your belongings, I shall show you to your room.’ At the doorway she appeared to remember her manners and paused to address Louise’s retreating companion, ‘If you care to wait a moment, Mr?’

  ‘Kavanagh.’

  ‘Yes, Kavanagh, of course. I can offer you a drink to sustain you on your return journey. A cup of tea, perhaps?’

  Lloyd would have preferred to refuse, but he was worried about leaving Louise with this unwelcoming family. He was left waiting outside while Mrs Greenwood hustled her away, so he sat down on the top step, glancing thoughtfully about him at this imposing house, in such stark contrast to its neglected surroundings. He’d heard little of the Greenwood family before and Mrs Greenwood didn’t impress him at all, for all that she obviously thought herself far above him.

  ~*~

  Louise was ushered through a well-furnished, if untidy sitting room to a bedroom at the far end of the house. It was tiny, containing only a narrow iron bed, a wardrobe and a chest of drawers, the latter also serving as a washstand. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust. Louise wrinkled her nose in dismay. But she held her tongue–heaven knew she was in no position to complain.

  ‘I hadn’t had the room made ready for you, since I wasn’t expecting you just yet. I’ll send the maid in to deal with it presently. Here, Edith.’ The woman signalled a child who was hovering in the background. ‘Take the jug and fill it with water so Miss Forrest may wash.’

  As Edith obeyed, she continued, ‘I shall leave you now. Join us in the dining room when you’re ready. It’s at the end of the hallway, to the right.’

  The child, a girl of about ten or eleven with her mother’s dark hair and sharp eyes, returned shortly. She placed the jug on the chest of drawers and stood watching Louise with unconcealed curiosity. ‘Your habit’s dusty and your hair’s all messy. Why’d you come on horseback?’

  ‘Because it was easier than hiring some other conveyance. Mr Kavanagh loaned me the horse.’

  ‘Who’s that man with you? Is he your beau?’

  Louise was taken aback at the impertinence of this child. She felt herself flushing guiltily. This morning she’d had a clear conscience on that score, at least; now it was difficult to have a clear conscience about anything. ‘No, he isn’t my beau.’

  Edith twirled a lock of her long hair in her fingers, smiling slyly. ‘Mama thought he was. I could tell.’

  ‘Could you? Well, I’m afraid your Mama was mistaken.’ Louise kept a cool tone, but she’d already formed a distinct dislike of this inquisitive child and her precocious questions, along with her surly mother. ‘Will you leave me now, if you please? I’d like to wash.’

  Edith accepted the rebuff calmly and departed. Louise washed her face and hands and tidied her hair, before joining Mrs Greenwood and Lloyd at the large polished table in the dining room. She noticed her employer directing doubtful glances at Lloyd over the teapot and could almost read her thoughts.

  She was obviously wondering if she should have sent the young man to the kitchen. Considering his dress, it was probably only his mention of owning a property that had saved him. Louise thought irritably how the woman was as much a snob as any Ashford and watched anxiously to see how Lloyd would acquit himself in the way of table manners. However he managed the delicate cup and saucer creditably, due perhaps to the years he’d spent with Mr O’Donnelly, who must surely have been a gentleman.

  There was little conversation over afternoon tea and Lloyd didn’t linger. Louise made him a little formal speech of thanks in Mrs Greenwood’s hearing, as if he was a stranger, and then he was gone, taking Shadow with him as she’d previously requested. It took all her willpower not to call him back and ask him to take her, too. She was left bereft and lonely and more uncertain of the future than she’d ever been.

  ‘Well, well,’ tut-tutted Mrs Greenwood as he rode away. ‘I cannot say I think much of the way you’ve been travelling the countryside with that young man. Why, he must be no more than twenty-five. You won’t have much reputation left if that’s the way you behave. Remember that I’m expected to entrust you with the care of my children.’

  Louise gritted her teeth. ‘Mr Kavanagh’s character was recommended to me. I could see no alternative, unless I was to wait in Banana until Friday and I couldn’t afford to stay at the hotel until then.’

  ‘You’re never short of a response, are you, Miss? I advise you to watch your step if you wish to remain in my employment.’

  With an effort Louise held her tongue. The only thing she would achieve by arguing further was instant dismissal.

  After that Mrs Greenwood formally introduced her to all of the children. Maria at fourteen was the eldest but one–her older brother was away at school in Brisbane. Edith was next in age and she was followed by Amy and Julia, seven-year-old twins. The youngest was William, who was five years old.

  Maria was very much the young lady. She was tall for her age and physically mature. Louise detected a note of insolence in her manner and suspected she might be reluctant to accept the authority of someone as young as herself. Edith she already disliked and the fair-haired twins looked to be mischievous, lively tomboys, though perhaps more tractable than their older sisters.

  There had been no mention of her having the charge of William. He was the most appealing of the five, a sturdy, dark-haired, silent boy with inquiring grey eyes. He regarded her solemnly throughout the introductions and when pushed forward by his mother obediently greeted her with, ‘How do you do, Miss Forrest?’ They were the first words he’d uttered and Louise wondered if he was often encouraged to speak for himself.

  Arthur Greenwood arrived home at dark from a day spent in the paddocks. Louise encountered him in the hallway, a grim-faced man in his mid-forties. He looked at her doubtfully–his wife had obviously informed him of the circumstances of her arrival–but didn’t bother to introduce himself, continuing to his bedroom to wash for dinner.

  ‘Ah, Lucy.’ Mrs Greenwood descended on her as she entered the dining room. ‘You will be taking your meals in the kitchen from now on.’

  Louise’s mouth dropped open. What had happened to the assurances from the employment agency that she would be treated as a member of the family? About to remind Mrs Greenwood of the fact, she remembered her already precarious circumstances and bit back her retort. Trembling with an
ger and humiliation, she made her way to the kitchen, holding her head high. The cook and housemaid were busy serving up the family’s meals, but they turned to survey her uncertainly.

  ‘I have been told I’m to eat with you.’

  ‘Yes, Miss.’ The cook’s stern face softened a degree. ‘Sit yourself at the table there and we’ll have a meal in front of you shortly.’

  They were joined by two station hands, one little more than a lad, the other probably forty years his senior. Both were roughly dressed and looked her up and down in an assessing manner, further increasing Louise’s discomfort.

  ‘My, we’ve got a swell here,’ the older man observed as the cook introduced them. ‘How’d you end up at this blasted place, girlie?’

  The young fellow sniggered and Louise turned away, not deigning to answer. How was she supposed to deal with such impertinence? She ate in uncomfortable silence, leaving her companions to engage in desultory conversation amongst themselves.

  She excused herself as soon as the meal was over and retired to bed, anxious for some time alone. But sleep wouldn’t come. Her indignation and growing unease with her present situation made her toss restlessly and she sought refuge in thoughts of Lloyd Kavanagh and the kisses they’d exchanged. The gentleness of that first interlude had stunned and captivated her, unexpected as it was, in a man of his class and culture. The raw desire of their second embrace had been, if possible, even more exciting and infinitely more disturbing. She had wondered what it would be like to kiss a man–really kiss him, that is, with depth and passion. Now she knew and the memory made her blood surge.

  Yet she could hardly have chosen a less suitable partner. She thought miserably of the empty farewell she and Kavanagh had exchanged and wondered if she would see him again. Perhaps it would be best if she didn’t. With the attraction between them brought into the open, the easy friendship they’d shared was over. But sadly, in her new life as Lucy Forrest, Lloyd was the closest thing to a friend she had.

  The next few days did nothing to improve on Louise’s first impressions. Mrs Greenwood continued to treat her as a servant, which was particularly infuriating since in other circumstances the woman would have been her social inferior. There is no snob to equal the social climber and this title Louise mentally applied to Mrs Greenwood. Her husband ignored domestic matters, but the children with the exception of William were dreadful. Edith was cheeky and Maria was lazy, vain and arrogant. The twins would have been tolerable without their sisters’ influence and after several days Louise did succeed in exerting some authority over them. However Maria and Edith set out to defy her every order. It was useless for Louise to appeal to their mother for support.

  On the second day of lessons Mrs Greenwood brought up the subject of William. ‘I hadn’t intended to begin William’s schooling just yet, but I’m sure he would be little trouble if he sat in on the girls’ lessons. If he learns something of the Three Rs, he’ll find it that much easier next year.’

  The truth, Louise knew, was the woman wanted him off her hands. She agreed only because she wasn’t in a position to refuse, but the girls were such a handful that she’d little time to spare for William. The twins’ lessons were still of a very elementary standard, but a five-year-old isn’t inclined to sit quietly and learn of his own volition particularly when classes were disrupted as often as hers were. Much as she would have enjoyed sitting with William and teaching him his letters, she simply was not able to and his presence put a further strain on her resources.

  Meal times continued to be an ordeal. The two women treated her kindly enough, but the men seemed to relish making her uncomfortable. They always sat to dinner in their dirty work clothes and their language was crude and generally disrespectful to the three women. Complaints about the food were usual, although justified, since their meals could only be served after the family had taken their fill. Sometimes there was only a scraping of stew left in the bottom of the pot and they had to fill up with bread and dripping.

  ‘She’s a right old tyrant,’ the cook complained. ‘She don’t stint herself at all, but she looks over me shoulder all the time making sure I don’t cook too much.’

  ‘A bitch is what she is,’ the old man growled. ‘Don’t know why I put up with it.’

  ‘Yeah, a man should bloody up an’ leave,’ the younger one agreed.

  Louise only wished they would. If she was a man, she wouldn’t stay a moment longer.

  For two weeks she tolerated the situation. Two weeks of going to bed hungry, feeling alone and ill-at-ease much of the time. Her hours in the schoolroom were an ordeal of constant, purposeful irritation on the part of the two older girls and of high-spirited naughtiness on that of the twins. If she’d had anywhere else to go, she wouldn’t have stayed beyond the second day, but as it was she could hardly afford to leave. Without a reference from the Greenwoods it would be futile to apply for further positions.

  So she kept a tight control over her temper, until the day when Maria overstepped the mark.

  The confrontation was prompted by something as trivial as her shortage of clothes. The Louise Ashford of old had owned a closet full of gowns, but now, as Lucy Forrest, she had two dresses to choose from and a barely adequate supply of underwear. She had to wash her clothing every few days, an unaccustomed burden. However Mrs Greenwood maintained the maid had enough chores to do without taking on the governess’ laundry, which was true enough.

  Finally, with an air of longsuffering, Mrs Greenwood decided to lend ‘Lucy’ one of her oldest gowns, until she was able to order new ones from a dressmaker in Banana. Louise inexpertly took in the seams and lengthened the hem, but the result was dowdy and ill-fitting and she hated herself in it. The niggling thought came to her that perhaps life in England would have been better than this, but she swiftly discarded the treacherous notion. Her pride wouldn’t allow her to admit she might have been wrong after all.

  She expected the children to have something to say about her attire when she assembled them in the classroom that morning and they didn’t disappoint her.

  ‘Why, Miss Forrest!’ exclaimed Maria, all wide-eyed innocence, ‘Isn’t that Mama’s gown?’ She began to snigger. ‘I never did like it much, but it looks rather ghastly on you. All shapeless, like a black gin’s dress!’

  Her snigger was echoed by the other three girls, while William stared at her in puzzlement, not comprehending their humour. Louise banged a ruler against her desk and snapped, ‘Enough of your impertinence, Maria. You won’t speak again unless you are spoken to, is that clear?’

  ‘No,’ retorted the girl, openly rebellious now, her smile gone and with it every vestige of innocence. ‘It isn’t clear. I don’t see why I should have to do what you tell me. Why, only last night I heard Mama saying to Papa that she wished it were not so hard to get governesses out here, as she’d disliked you from the very first! She said your morals seemed very loose and she wasn’t at all sure she believed your story about the missing luggage. She thought Papa should make a few inquiries about you–and find out where you met your “escort”!’

  Her jeering emphasis on the last word made the insinuation obvious. It was that shaft in particular that struck home. Louise stared at Maria’s triumphant, malicious face, a red tide of fury taking her past caution.

  ‘How dare you speak to me like that! If you were really a young lady, you wouldn’t understand what you’re implying. Come up here and stand in the corner. You may stay there until lunchtime and during the lunch break you will write, two hundred times, ‘I must not repeat malicious gossip.’ And if I find even one spelling mistake you’ll write it another two hundred times.’

  Maria was on her feet now, her face white. ‘No, I shall not and you can’t make me. If you think Mama will side with you, you’re much mistaken.’

  Louise crossed quickly to the girl’s chair and dealt her a resounding slap on the cheek. Maria stepped back, her hand raised to her reddened face.

  ‘How dare you? I’m going to t
ell Mama! You’ll be sorry!’

  She turned and sped out of the room and Louise stood still for a moment, breathing rapidly. She’d burnt her bridges now, but until she was told otherwise, she’d carry on here. She squared her trembling shoulders and confronted the girls, who were gaping at her. William was grizzling softly into his desk. How she wished he hadn’t witnessed that dreadful scene.

  She forced herself to speak calmly. ‘Let us begin lessons. Edith, you may attempt those sums you couldn’t do yesterday and Amy and Julia, open your readers at page fifteen. William, you pay attention with the twins. And please stop crying–everything will be all right.’

  As she’d expected, Mrs Greenwood wasn’t long in coming. She marched into the schoolroom, eyebrows bristling, disrupting the renewed peace and quiet.

  ‘Miss Forrest, my daughter has come to me with the most incredible story of your conduct. I find it unbelievable. How you obtained a reference from your last employer I shall never know and I plan to write to the agency and complain. Do you have anything to say in your defence?’

  ‘Actually, I have.’ Louise faced her defiantly, in spite of a heaving stomach and a growing urge to be sick. ‘I’ve never had the charge of a more disagreeable, insolent child than your eldest daughter. Until she’s encouraged to have some respect for authority I think you will continue to have problems with her tutors.’

  Mrs Greenwood’s face was an angry, mottled red. ‘How dare you? Who gave you the right to criticize my daughter? After your behaviour I can only wonder at your impertinence. You give yourself these superior airs, but your actions in using physical violence against my daughter give the true picture of your origins.’

  ‘As does your behaviour,’ countered Louise coldly, ‘in conducting a brawl with me in the schoolroom. Don’t you think we should conclude this interview in private?’