Thief Taker

by Camille Oster

  Closing his eyes, Rowan felt the bitterness of it. He couldn't stand this outcome, feeling like he wanted to cross Mr. Sunder's path in some dark alley—not that he would, even if the world was a better place without men like Mr. Sunders.

  Retreating to the nearest gin house, Rowan ordered himself an ample portion. Again, his discomfort wouldn't let him be. Miss Woodford suffered, while Mr. Sunders walked away scot-free. There was no justice in that. Was there justice in anything he did, or did it only serve the rich and protected? He'd never agreed to serve them.

  Swigging the harsh liquid, he let it burn down his throat. Yet another night he would sit in a place like this and try to reassure himself that all was as it should be, that he was performing good work, which punished those who deserved it. Clearly he wasn't. Today had proved that the ideals were just that, unobtainable ideals. The world was unjust and he was a part of the machinery that made it so.

  Rising, he left the drinking house, driven out into the street. He didn't feel like drinking anymore—it didn't solve the problem, even if it was the only thing he could think of. Marching down the street, he stopped at a corner, feeling nausea churn his stomach. He vomited the clear liquid, then what was left of the pea soup into the gutter.

  Sitting down on a set to stairs, he took his hat off. Nothing was making sense anymore and he wasn't sure he could pull all the jagged pieces back together again. All they could do was try their best, he told himself, but it still didn't sit right.

  It felt like the only bit of innocence in the world was thousands of miles away.

  Chapter 30:

  * * *

  Dawn came much too quickly, but at least they got a good look at their new home. They were told to assemble in the courtyard surrounded by buildings and a wall, built in a strange stone the color of apricots. The noise of the birds started at dawn and continued until it grew hot and they quieted.

  They were told to bathe in the trough in the courtyard, and Serephina welcomed her first wash in months, even with the lack of privacy. It was wondrous just to be clean, for a moment overriding the tension around what was to happen to her. It was amazing how her expectations had changed. Bliss these days was a bath in an outside trough.

  They were given ill-fitting blue dresses, or slops as they apparently were called, but they were clean and fresh-smelling. Their discarded clothes were gathered up and taken away. Hair dripping, they were told to line up and the Matron walked down the line inspecting them.

  "Most of you will find gainful employment," she said sharply. "Or marriage. Some of you, however, will not. Most of you are on merit and will keep that status unless you prove yourself unworthy. It is a status you should treasure, and your ticket to a new life and eventually a pardon. You will be expected to work hard and to behave—to be obedient, demure and devout. These are for Sunday wear," she said while two women came forward handing out white aprons and straw hats. "They are not for the fields and you will take good care of them. You will not receive another pair."

  Women were standing around watching them, sullenly quiet, a few with their heads shaven. Others were holding babies or heavily pregnant. Horrified, Serephina looked at the bald heads of some, not knowing what they'd done to deserve such punishment, but she'd take care not to follow their example. The Matron called out a few names, including Serephina's. They were told to stay behind while the others were instructed on receiving their morning porridge.

  Swallowing a lump, Serephina watched Rachel and Doreen walk inside the building again and gathered with the smaller group of women left in the courtyard. She knew they were the women with more serious criminal charges, and she was counted as one of them. Her nervousness increased as the Matron turned her hard stare on them. "You lot no one wants walking around the street. You will be staying here. Good behavior will elevate you to probation, but we will be watching you intently. Mary," she called and one of the bald women walked over. "This is what happens if you misbehave. It's not worth it, is it, Mary?"

  "No, madam," Mary said, red spots coloring her cheeks.

  "As I said, you will be expected to work and Mr. Penny will be taking you to the fields after your breakfast. I would advise you to make a hat when you can; the sun here is harsh." With a last pointed look she left them.

  As soon as Serephina felt she had a handle on her new situation, things got worse. The future in service was no longer an option for her, but she guessed she understood: what fine woman would want a servant convicted of stealing jewelry from fine women. It was the hard way for her.

  They were taken to the fields after a quick bowl of porridge, a hemp field where they were given small scythes and hold to start cutting. Within the hour, Serephina's back was aching and she was stiff when they walked back to the factory for the midday meal, where they, due to their status, received less, but at least she could sit with Rachel and Doreen.

  Her days set into a monotonous rhythm and Serephina's back grew stronger. True to the Matron's word, she had to make a hat out of the hemp she was harvesting, but once she got used to it, she didn't mind being in the fields, alone with her thoughts and the endless, monotonous reaping. She knew what to expect now, the routines, expectations and small rewards. Unlike some of the other women, she didn't cause problems, but kept her head down, kept quiet. It was best just to be quiet as women who strove too much to please the Matron were derided by the others.

  Her hands were a mess, but they grew stronger too. When she had a free moment, she could sit by the river and watch the dark green water run by. The bats weren't quite as big as dogs, maybe a cat, hanging from one of the trees during the day like black teardrops. Australia was lush and everything grew here. She wondered if she would one day have a garden. The future was uncertain, but it was a long way off too.

  She could exist like this, she determined—not that she had much choice. It wasn't a comfortable life, but it was tolerable. With good behavior, she would eventually receive a conditional pardon after four years or more, but for now she was just enjoying the absence of immediate uncertainty after having to live with its cloying grip for months and months.

  She’d received a letter from Mrs. Rushmore, which she had opened with shaking hands, eager for the first bit of news since she’d been arrested. It said that Millie was happy and already with child. Serephina teared at the news. Mrs. Rushmore had taken a posting to be a companion to a lady living in Boston and was set to sail shortly. She would already have sailed by the time the letter reached Australia. Knowing all was well with Millie put Serephina at ease, removing the last bit of concern she had for her sister’s future.

  The letter supplied an address in Boston where Mrs. Rushmore would be and Serephina promised herself she would write as soon as she had the means to. Unfortunately, she suspected that any letter delivered to Millie would be returned to discourage communications between them, but she could certainly communicate through Mrs. Rushmore in the future.

  What she wasn't certain of was what she'd do when she was fully pardoned or served her sentence. She hadn't planned on going back, but her thoughts kept returning to Mr. Cox and the things she felt when he was near. He may not even remember her even now, but there was something in her that wanted to seek him out after this was all over, and that would mean returning to England. It seemed an absurd notion to cross half the world just to see if a man remembered her, but there was nothing else she seemed able to focus her mind on. Perhaps she would feel different in five or seven years. It would likely take quite some time to earn enough money for passage.

  It took Rowan a week to make up his mind. Perhaps less, but it took him a week to accept his decision, to give up his home and his job. It proved remarkably uneventful in the end, just a decision that slipped into place as easily as a change of mind. He booked passage on the Star of Persia, which sailed early one damp morning, out of the Thames for a long voyage. The passage took much of the funds he had, gaining him a small cabin, but he was free to roam the ship and converse with the oth
er passengers, constituted of wealthy merchants, government clerks and hopeful others seeking a better life in Australia.

  He'd never sailed anywhere on a ship this size and luckily he didn't suffer the sea sickness that debilitated miserably some of the other passengers. He watched quite comfortably as they sailed down the coast of France, then Spain—places he'd never been. There wasn't much else to do but to watch the distant coast they passed, or to sit with his thoughts, but he felt better now, a weight had been lifted. He felt free.

  When asked, he told the other passengers that he was seeking a new life in Australia just like everybody else. He didn't tell them he was predominantly going to check on the welfare of a woman, one he hardly knew. How could one explain a sweet kiss that still lingered on his lips, unwillingly parted from its companion? What person traveled the world for a kiss? That would sound insane to anyone's ears, and truthfully he couldn't understand his own motives with regards to Serephina Woodford. For now, he would take this one step at a time, and the first step was to find her and ensure she was faring tolerably. He had no idea what he'd say to her when he found her.

  He still didn't know when he arrived at Sydney Cove, watching as the bustling city that seemed to be constructing itself as he watched. He could see scaffolding everywhere as the city's buildings multiplied. This was a place of wealth, he saw. But she wasn't here; she was in Parramatta, which lay inland some ways.

  Disembarking, he found a boarding house near the docks, where he slept on sound ground for the first time in months. The city had a different energy from London, and the grinding poverty was missing. There was gainful employment for everyone and even the poor were well kempt. He saw convict labor, working in trades wearing wide, brown trousers, highlighting their status to everyone.

  For all intents and purposes, this was his new home, no matter how things turned out. He wasn't sure he could go back to London and the life he'd led, even if she wanted nothing to do with him. It was feasible that he could move to one of the other settlements, maybe even buy a farm somewhere where the land was cheap and in need of cultivation. Being a city dweller all his life, he couldn't imagine it, but he needed to do something, not having enough for passage back even if he wanted to. There was always the Sydney Constabulary who would probably be seeking men, but he feared the same doubts he'd developed in London.

  After forcing himself to wait a few days, he enquired about passage to Parramatta, and could go with one of the barges returning from bringing agricultural products to Sydney. Paying for passage, he left early the next morning, feeling like he couldn't leave it longer to see her.

  Still he didn't know what to say to her; he also didn't know what he'd do if he found her mistreated. If it was someone else, he'd expect she'd be bitter, but she wasn't like that. She'd never blamed him for the part he'd played in her capture, and maybe that's what drove a constant prickling in his chest.

  The bay gave way to a river and they slowly and silently moved inland with the mostly empty barge. Unease filled him; they were obviously getting closer.

  Chapter 31:

  * * *

  Picking up her skirt, Serephina followed the others as they made it back to the factory along a thin path that led to the rickety river crossing. The sun was harsh today and Serephina was thirsty. Mr. Penny was on a horse, riding behind them. He sat in the shade all day and just watched them work. Everyone hated him. He was slimy and he ogled, but at least he didn't touch. Matron would rip strips out of him if he did. Serephina wouldn't put it past her to flog him.

  As she walked toward the factory, her eye was drawn to a shape standing below a tree—a man. It wasn't unusual that men came to look at them, decided on whether they should offer for one of them, but this one sent goose-bumps rocketing up her body. Taking another look, she turned to him and her eyes widened at how similar he looked to Mr. Cox.

  Standing where she was, the others pushed past her including Mr. Penny’s horse. She only stared as the man came forward and it took her a moment to realize it actually was him. Maybe she was dreaming. He'd appeared in her dreams before.

  "I found you," he said when he came closer, stopping a few steps from her.

  "What are you doing here?" she said when she got over the sheer shock to seeing him. He looked well, tanned from the sun. "How is it you're here?"

  He took his hat off and squeezed it between his fingers. Serephina's mind was spinning, but it didn't produce anything that made sense. It was so good to see him, and she hadn't realized how much she was comforted by seeing him until he turned up. Tears prickled the back of her eyes and nose. Had he come to see her? He looked nervous. He looked handsome. Serephina’s insides twisted sharply. She'd spent so much time thinking of him, and now he'd materialized. Surely this was a dream.

  "I had to see how you are," he said, his voice flowing along her skin, intensifying the prickles that had formed. Pleasure bounded through her—he'd come to see her. But his statement didn't sit right. There was something mismatched.

  Turning her head to the side, she considered him. "You crossed the entire world to see how I am? That's more than a little out of your way." She had a great deal riding on what he said next. Her emotions were on edge, unsure what she wanted him to say. Actually, she knew exactly what she wanted him to say, but what right had she to expect it? "You hardly know me."

  "I seem to know enough." His answer was a bit cryptic. He shifted again, seemingly uncomfortable. A thought pierced through her, maybe he didn't want to be here. Discomfort itched fiercely enough that she crossed her arms in front of her. But then why was he? "The thought of you suffering sat ill with me."

  Serephina flushed. "It is not a grand existence, but I am managing."

  "You do seem to manage in trying situations." He cleared his throat. "I felt I needed to make some changes in my life," he finally said.

  Serephina blinked, trying to understand what he was saying. "I understand Australia has good opportunities for those who come here willingly."

  "It could for those who don't as well."

  Serephina's brow creased. She wasn't sure what he was alluding to; she was scared to know in case it was something less than she hoped. What did she hope? She wasn't prepared to answer, because if she did, anything less would mean loss and she couldn't handle more loss. "I didn't think I'd see you again. Actually, I did consider seeing you again."

  "You did?"

  "Once I was free to."

  He looked away, his face was healed from the last time she'd seen him when he’d been severely bruised. Her eyes traveled down and she felt the intense heat of desire. It hadn't lessened, even after not seeing him for months, and she suspected she'd never feel it again with someone else.

  "You would come to me?" he asked.

  "I would have said 'Hello' in any respect."

  "Why?" he asked, looking at her intently.

  She shrugged, not knowing what to say. Because I can't stop thinking of you and have held a wild hope that you would still be there. She wasn't going to say it, but it was true. "Perhaps I just needed to see how you were."

  He smiled broadly like he'd just heard something he wanted to hear. "You have been on my mind," he said.

  Serephina felt tears prickle her eyes again. She nodded. "As have you."

  Taking a step forward, he came to her and she felt her heart pound. He was so large and she just wanted for feel his arms around her. Finally the tear spilt. She was embarrassed about it, but she wanted him to hold her so desperately. Until now, she hadn't realized how tightly she'd been holding on, trying to convince herself that she was fine.

  Reaching for him, she moved into the embrace, closing her eyes as she felt him under her hands, warm and solid. She could weather anything if he was there.

  His breath drew her attention and she looked up at him, his scent enveloping her. Reaching down, he kissed her, slowly to start with. His lips soft and demanding. Serephina melted into it, feeling his body press into hers and pure pleasure suffusin
g her mind. She wanted this man, wanted what they'd started so long ago, when he'd rejected her and accused her of tempting him. For her, it wasn't a matter of tempting—he'd had her and she'd been his ever since.

  His tongue stroked along her lower lip, begging entrance. Serephina eagerly gave him access and welcomed his warm, lush tongue, wanting everything he would give her. He deepened the kiss and she lost all sense of where she was. The only thing that mattered was that he was there and he wanted her. She could face down an army with that knowledge.

  Urgent hands pressed him to her and she wanted more. Her hands ran along his back, down toward the firm swell of his backside. Desire burned her insides to the point she feared it would consume her.

  "Enough!" someone roared. "Unhand her at once." Hands were pulling them apart and Serephina was fighting it, refusing to let go. "You cannot go and just grab one of them. What are you, a savage?"

  Mr. Cox stepped back, dodging the stick aimed at him. He was smiling, his attention only for her, and it was the most beautiful sight she'd ever seen. Then their circumstances dawned on her. Matron had caught them kissing. Serephina was a prisoner and there were rules she had to abide by.

  "I am sorry, Matron," Serephina said with a shaky voice. "This is Mr. Cox."

  "I don't care who he is. There are rules and procedures, and this is not allowed."

  "He has come to see me."

  "So you know him?" Matron said with a huff as if she was mildly surprised. Serephina felt insulted that the woman would assume they'd be kissing like that if they were perfect strangers, but then she herself had seen all sorts of things while a guest at Her Majesty's pleasure.

  "He has come from London to see me."

  "It matters not. This is not how things are done." Matron grabbed Serephina's arm and pulled her away, before turning to him. "If you are of good character, you will have to petition like everyone else. This isn't a free grab, Mr. Cox."