“You’ll have a baby of your own once you marry Mr William.”
“I never wanted children … but now…” Georgina sighed. “If we ever get married. This waiting for the travelling priest seems to go on forever.”
Jessie’s smile widened. “You’ve only been here two weeks.”
“Don’t tell William, but that’s been more difficult than I thought. Seeing him every day and not …” Georgina put the baby back on the floor and wiggled a wooden toy in front of him. “Not being his wife is worse now than when we lived apart.”
Jessie chuckled this time. “Why do you think he keeps finding reasons to go off for days at a time? Clem says he’s working very hard so he can fall asleep exhausted at night.”
“I know. It’s my fault. I insisted on coming.” Georgina stood and paced the small kitchen of Jessie’s hut. “But I will not go back to my mother. Not that I’d be welcome anyway. Sending those clothes to me was her final farewell.”
“I’m sorry.” Once more Jessie paused over her dough and this time her look was wistful. “I miss my mother, especially now I have Haji.” She glanced down at the baby gurgling happily on the floor. “She would have loved him.”
Georgina felt a pang of guilt. “What a terrible daughter I am. I have a mother and I’ve turned my back on her.”
“It’s not easy to give up family for the man you love, but that’s what my mother did, and that love made her very happy.”
Georgina paced again and then gripped her head in her hands. “Oh! I feel like a caged animal.”
“Why don’t you go for a ride?” Jessie glanced to the window. “It’s a beautiful morning.”
Georgina’s spirits lifted. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“You don’t have to ask my permission.”
“But I’m supposed to be practising my bread-making skills.”
Jessie stood up and arched her back. “Your mind is on other things today.” She chuckled. “And I don’t think there’s much you will learn from me when it comes to cooking.”
“It’s something I’ve done little of in recent years. We were travelling and then when we came home … well there was Mrs Donovan and Mother.”
“I am happy to cook for everyone.” Once more Jessie chuckled. It was such a happy sound. “Thankfully I’ve improved a lot since I first came here.”
“I’m good at cakes.”
“And I’m not.”
“We’ll be a team then.”
They grinned at each other like conspirators but the sound of horses made them both look towards the door.
“I thought the men were away all day.” Georgina’s excitement that William might have returned early was marred by the sight of Jessie plucking Haji from the floor and the frightened look on her face.
Outside she felt a surge of relief as she recognised William and Clem’s horses at the back gate of the homestead. “It’s all right. It is our men.”
The women walked down the path to the main house.
“They must have gone inside already.” Georgina walked around the horses to see William and Clem bending over a man lying in the shade of the verandah.
“What’s happened?”
They looked up. William walked towards her, his face full of concern. Over his shoulder Georgina could see the anger on Clem’s face.
“It’s Albie. We found him down in the dry creek. He must have been camped there a few days. He’s drunk. So inebriated we can barely rouse him.”
“Albie?” Georgina peered at the man who lay prostrate on the ground. “Is that the man—?”
“Your father almost killed.” Clem’s words came out in a growl. “And he might as well have. Look at him now.”
Georgina gasped.
“Clem.” William’s tone held a warning. “Georgina is not responsible for what happened.”
“I’m sorry.” Clem’s shoulders slumped. “It’s hard seeing him like this.”
“Clem.” Jessie moved closer to her husband. “We should do what we can to make him more comfortable.” She turned back to Georgina and William. “Will you take Haji? Clem and I will look after Albie.”
“Put him on my bed.” William waved towards the bed he’d been sleeping in since Georgina had arrived. It was tucked behind a hessian wall at one end of the verandah.
Georgina extended her arms for the baby and Jessie turned back to help Clem.
“I’ll get clean bedding.” Georgina hurried into the house, relieved to be out of the warm sun and away from Clem’s despair. She had just returned to the kitchen with a blanket and some bedsheets when Jessie came inside.
“We’ll need to wash him first,” Jessie said. “Clem and William are trying to get some water into him and remove his clothes.” Jessie took the bedding. “Can you heat some water?”
“Of course.”
Georgina hurried to her task, glad to have something else to do. As she paced back and forth waiting for the water to boil she felt Haji go heavy in her arms. She took him to the front bedroom, which she had spent most of the last two weeks redecorating, and laid him on the bed.
When she returned to the kitchen, William was there filling the wash bucket from the kettle.
“Is he going to be all right?” Georgina grasped her hands tightly together, anxious for the man, who’d looked as if he could be dead.
“I hope so. Clem’s tried to help him before, but Albie’s been drinking more and more since his beating.” William shook his head. “He’s got no job. I don’t know where he’s getting the money.” He took the bucket and strode back outside.
Georgina gripped the edge of the table. She felt suddenly sick. “Dear God.” She remembered asking the Wiltshires to make sure Albie was taken care of. No doubt the payments they’d agreed on were still coming from the Prosser account.
By the time William came back inside she had set the table with food and the kettle was boiling again for their tea. She shot up from the table. “How is he?”
“Sleeping still but clean and comfortable at least. We’ll keep trying to give him water and then once he’s awake we can begin some food.”
“We’ve done all we can for now.” Clem stepped through the door.
Jessie followed him into the kitchen. She glanced around. “Where’s Haji?”
“Sleeping,” Georgina said. “I’ve just checked on him. Please, everyone sit down. There’s cake and the kettle has boiled. I need to tell you something.”
William sat. He looked to Georgina. “What’s this about?”
Jessie made the tea and Clem took a seat at the table.
Georgina swallowed the lump in her throat and sat beside William. “It’s my fault Albie has the money to spend on liquor.”
“How?”
“I asked the Wiltshires to make sure he was … taken care of.”
Clem stared at her. “You did?”
Georgina glanced at him. “I should have seen to it myself.”
“And you think that would have made a difference?” William’s question was delivered in a quiet tone. His eyes full of love for her. “You weren’t to know he would spend the money on drink.”
“It was my responsibility.”
Clem’s fist thudded on the table. Georgina jumped.
“Albie is a man,” he said. “He should be able to take care of himself.”
“Nobody made him spend the money on drink.” William’s voice remained calm.
“He can’t work,” Clem said. “He has been very sad.”
“Perhaps he felt the drink washed away his troubles,” Georgina said. “It’s all my fault.”
“We can’t undo what’s done.” William gripped her hand.
“I’ll stop the money.” She sucked in her lip to stop the tears that brimmed in her eyes.
“But then he would have nothing.” Clem’s whispered words were followed by silence. They could clearly hear the sound of birds and the creak of tin in the breeze outside.
It was William who spoke next. “We’
re all sorry for what happened to Albie, Clem. We can’t go back and change it but maybe we can do a better job of helping him to heal inside so he doesn’t drink himself half to death.”
“How?” Clem turned a sorrowful gaze on William.
“I don’t know.” William shook his head. “Maybe if we get him back on his feet we can find ways to help him.”
There was a groan and a coughing noise from outside.
“I’ll go and sit with him a while.” Clem got to his feet.
“I’ll come with you.” Jessie glanced towards the front of the house.
“It’s all right, Jessie.” Georgina tried to smile. “I’ll listen for Haji.”
As soon as they were outside she turned to William. He looked at her with such love, the tears she’d been fighting rolled from her eyes. He held out his arms and she flung herself against him. “I’m so sorry,” she sobbed.
He rocked her as if she were a child, gently patting her back.
She sat up and wiped her eyes with her handkerchief. “I didn’t realise.”
“Shh,” he soothed. “I probably would have done the same, had I been in your shoes. The thing is to work out what to do now.”
“I should stop the money.”
“Perhaps.”
“Oh!” Georgina put her hand to her brow. “Once the Wiltshires set it up I arranged with the bank to make the money available. I’ll have to go into town. I’d hoped not to go until after we were married.”
“Albie won’t be going anywhere to collect anything for a while. There’s no rush to go to town — but in any case it might be possible sooner than you think.”
Georgina wiped her cheeks and took in the grin on William’s face. “Have you some news?”
He slowly took an envelope from his pocket. “I met the mailman this morning before we found Albie.”
Georgina bounced in her seat. “What is it?”
“The travelling priest is calling at Wildu Creek next week, and he is happy to conduct our marriage.”
She gripped his hands. “Truly?”
“Truly, my dear Georgina. That’s if you don’t mind being married at my parents’ home.”
“I don’t care where it is as long as we are married soon.” She pressed her lips to his and he kissed her back. She pulled away. Being so close to him without being able to share more was tantalising. “I want to be your wife right now.”
“One more week.”
“I can’t stand it,” she groaned.
“Nor I but—”
“One more week.” She cut him off. “And not a moment longer.”
Thirty-four
Edith knew it would happen as soon as Charles was away. That morning he had left for the mine and she had been on tenterhooks ever since. Now it was almost closing time — Mr Hemming had been ordered to watch both shops and she’d been summoned to Mr Henry’s office.
She took a breath and gave a sharp rap on the door.
“Enter.”
Edith did as she was bid. Mr Henry’s head was bent over a paper he was reading. She crossed the room and didn’t wait for him to look up. Boldly, she sat in one of the high-backed chairs he reserved for his clients. She folded her hands in her lap and waited.
Finally he looked up, and his eyebrows rose at the sight of her already seated. “Don’t make yourself too comfortable, Miss Ferguson. I won’t keep you long.”
She met his look squarely. “I have the end-of-day tally to complete, Mr Henry. I don’t have a lot of time myself.”
Henry pushed back his chair and crossed to the small window with its view of the building next door. He cleared his throat. “My son has imparted some difficult news this morning, Miss Ferguson.”
Edith said nothing.
He turned to look at her. “It seems Charles has asked you to be his wife.”
“Why yes, Mr Henry.” Edith smiled sweetly. “I was so surprised but delighted indeed to accept. Isn’t it wonderful news?”
Henry shifted from foot to foot and rubbed his hands together. “Yes, well … you are certainly a fine young woman, Miss Ferguson. I am sure you will make someone a good wife one day.”
“I beg your pardon?” Edith feigned surprise.
“My dear Miss Ferguson. You have been an asset to our business but I think it is time for you to move on.”
“But—”
“I will give you a glowing reference, of course.” Henry hurried back to his chair, picked up his pen and looked at her. “It’s just that I cannot have my son and heir marrying our shop assistant.”
Edith met his gaze; she lifted her chin. “I think there’s been some misunderstanding, Mr Henry.”
“No misunderstanding.” Henry looked at the paper in front of him. “You cannot marry my son. Of course I have here a tidy sum to help you recover from your despair at having to refuse his offer.” He picked up an envelope and placed it in front of her. “You do understand what I’m telling you.”
Edith allowed the smile she’d been holding back to spread over her face. “I understand very well, Mr Henry. I think it is you who has misunderstood. I will most certainly become Mrs Charles Wiltshire. Very soon, as it turns out. Charles is anxious we don’t delay our union.”
Henry’s eyes bulged. “You will not marry my son.” There was a threatening edge to the words he pronounced slowly, as if she was someone who couldn’t understand English.
“Dear Mr Henry.” Edith leaned in, her tone equally condescending. “I will be marrying Charles and you will give us your blessing, unless you want the district to know about your … arrangement … with your housekeeper.”
Edith watched as Henry struggled with the news she’d delivered. Suddenly he drew up his shoulders.
“I see you will stop at nothing less than blackmail to get your hands on my son.”
“And I see you don’t deny your liaison.”
“You’re no match for me, Miss Ferguson. I am prepared to weather a small storm that may arise if people find out I took comfort from my long-standing devoted housekeeper after the death of my dear wife.”
Edith met his smug smile with one of her own, hiding the turmoil within. “Mmm. Perhaps there are some who would forgive that.” She clasped her fingers together on the desk to hide their tremble. “But, like me, Mr Henry, I think most of the people who currently hold you in high standing would be appalled to discover Flora Nixon has been your mistress for a long time. Even while your wife was very much alive.”
Henry pushed back his chair and stood. His dark eyes glittered. “How dare you make such accusations?”
Edith remained seated but held his look. Everything depended on her making him believe her. She drew up her shoulders. “I have lived with your family long enough to notice comings and goings.”
Henry’s gaze faltered.
Edith pressed her point. “Mrs Nixon has a very convenient bedroom. So easy for you to slip from the house. Especially when you and your wife did not share a bedroom.”
He slumped back into his chair. Edith let out a silent breath.
“We’ve been very discreet.”
“Secrets never last, Mr Wiltshire.”
“Charles doesn’t know about …”
“I don’t believe so.”
“Flora Nixon is a good kind woman. I won’t have her hurt.”
Edith bit her tongue on that one. Flora had always held herself in high regard. Too high as far as Edith was concerned, but her time would come. “Your secret will stay with me, providing—”
“Providing you marry my son.”
“Precisely.”
Henry let out a long sigh. “Very well, Miss Ferguson. You may marry my son with my … my blessing.”
Edith rose from her chair.
“I don’t know what your exact motive is Miss Ferguson, but you had better truly love my son and make him happy.”
“Don’t worry, Mr Henry. I do love your son … very much.” Edith stopped short of winking at him but her gaze was suggestive. �
��Charles will not be seeking another woman’s bed while I’m alive.”
Henry gaped at her.
She leaned forward and whisked up the envelope he’d placed in front of her. At a quick glance there was a large number of notes inside. “How kind of you to give me some money for my trousseau. And now I must return to the shop for my end-of-day duties. Good evening.” Edith turned on her heel and swept from the room.
Henry sat staring at nothing long after Edith had left. How had it come to this? He couldn’t believe he was being blackmailed by a chit of a girl. So many times over the years he had inveigled items, deals, properties from people, and she had beaten him at his own game.
He could call Edith’s bluff, send Flora away, but what would become of her? His affection for Flora was very real. She was a reliable sensible woman, and a wife to him in more ways that Catherine had ever been. Laura depended on her as well. Flora was the constant female presence in her young life. Henry did not have the heart to hurt either of them by sending Flora away. He would have to go along with Miss Edith Ferguson for now. But he’d keep his own eyes open for any opportunity to be rid of her, Charles’s wife or not.
Henry glanced down at the ledger open on the desk in front of him. He shifted the demand for payment he had received from one of their interstate suppliers and looked at the columns of red figures. Thankfully the separate book Charles kept for his transport business was in the black, although how long that would last with the money he was putting into his search for diamonds, Henry didn’t know. Charles had set off that morning with two men he’d employed to replace Becker and speed up the search.
The closure of the creamery had cost Henry a lot, and the extensions to the shop had come to more than Charles had managed to extract from his grandmother. He sighed, shut the dark leather cover of the book, rose and took his jacket from the back of the chair. Money was slipping through his fingers.
Now, not long after the cost of the birthday celebration Henry had planned for Charles, there was to be the cost of a wedding. He wondered if Harriet would travel to Hawker for it. If it was to be soon, as Edith had suggested, it would take part in late spring or early summer. His mother wasn’t so strong any more and Catherine’s parents were certainly beyond making the journey. Not that they ever had while Catherine was alive, so he didn’t imagine they’d be interested now. Once Charles had set a date Henry would write to them.
Jewel In the North Page 30
