25
The Question
On the return drive, Will seemed nervous, ordering the coachman to drive along at a clipping rate. He was unusually silent, and Charlotte worried that she may have said or done something to upset him or his mother at teatime. As they approached Sydney, Will ordered the coachman to pull the horses up on a grassy knoll overlooking the harbour, under the shade of a huge gum tree. The groom jumped down to hold the horses.
‘Shall we stretch our legs for a moment?’ suggested Will. He handed her down from the carriage and they strolled towards the rocky foreshore.
Charlotte gazed out at the view, admiring the sight of white sails skimming over the water.
‘Miss Atkinson,’ Will began nervously, gripping his hat in his hands. ‘There is a question which I would like to ask you. That is to say, I wondered whether you would do me the honour of . . .’
Charlotte looked at Will sharply, her heart pounding. Will fumbled in his jacket pocket and pulled out a ring. It was a lustrous pearl, surrounded by a circle of smaller diamonds on a rose gold band.
‘Miss Atkinson . . . Charlotte . . . will you marry me?’
Charlotte paused, searching for an answer.
‘Mr Cummings – I don’t know what to say,’ Charlotte stuttered. ‘I’d not thought of marriage for years yet. I thought we were . . . friends. What will your parents think?’
Will took her gloved hands in his.
‘I know I should have knelt down, but it’s hard to do that on these rocks. My parents will adore you, just as I adore you.’
‘But, Will, I have no money . . .’
Will pulled her leather glove from her left hand and kissed her skin. Charlotte shivered.
‘Please say yes, Charlotte,’ begged Will. ‘Please say you’ll marry me. You are the most bewitching girl I have ever met.’
Charlotte felt a rush of happiness – she was adored; she was bewitching – but marriage was such a big step. Marriage was forever, and she was only fifteen.
She looked at Will and the ring he held out. How can I say no?
‘Yes, I mean, I think so . . .’ murmured Charlotte, looking down at her slippers.
Slowly, reverently, Will slipped the gold band onto her ring finger. The diamonds glittered in the sunlight around the creamy pearl. Then he kissed her.
‘You have made me the happiest of men,’ Will whispered. ‘Please say we can be married straightaway – today!’
‘Don’t be silly, Will,’ said Charlotte. ‘I’m only fifteen. We couldn’t possibly be married until I turn sixteen in July. Besides, I have to talk to Mamma.’
It was dusk when Will dropped Charlotte home. He whispered nonsensical endearments to her, which made her giggle. She was still giggling when she ran up the steps and through the front door.
‘Mamma,’ Charlotte called. ‘May I speak with you?’
Mamma was in the sitting room at the breakfast table, working on the accounts. She looked tired.
‘Yes, dearest, of course,’ Mamma said, pushing away the ledger. ‘These accounts are giving me a headache. I do not know how James manages to go through so many pairs of boots, and the executors have just written to say that our allowance is to be cut back again. I do not know how we are to manage.’
Charlotte took a seat beside her mother, her ring hand hidden by her side.
‘It would be easier if I did not live at home,’ Charlotte said. Mamma waved her hand to dismiss such a suggestion.
‘We will manage somehow. How was tea with Mrs Cummings?’
Charlotte paused, wondering how she would get the words out. ‘Mamma . . . William Cummings has asked me to marry him.’
Mamma took a sharp breath and hugged her daughter. ‘Charlotte, dearest, I knew you were seeing a lot of Kitty’s cousin, Mr Curlewis, and his friend Mr Cummings, but I did not realise that things had progressed so far. Emily said you seemed struck with him.’
Charlotte showed Mamma her ring finger with its sparkling jewels.
‘Mr Cummings says he loves me and would like to be married as soon as possible,’ Charlotte explained. ‘He asked me on the way home today.’
‘It is a beautiful ring and very expensive,’ said Mamma, frowning. ‘Do you reciprocate his feelings?’
‘He is charming and funny, and we have lots of laughs together,’ Charlotte explained. ‘He treats me like a princess.’
Mamma sighed and took Charlotte’s hand, stroking the ring finger. ‘You have not known him very long. I would not wish you to wed in haste.’
‘I have known him for three months,’ Charlotte replied. ‘You had known Papa only three weeks when you became engaged.’
‘Yes, but you are only fifteen, Charlotte,’ Mamma pointed out. ‘I was nearly thirty.’
Charlotte bit her lip with uncertainty.
‘I will be sixteen later this year, and many girls are married at sixteen,’ Charlotte said. ‘It would make it easier for you all if I were married. Then you wouldn’t need to worry about my expenses.’
Mamma took Charlotte’s hand. ‘My dearest, above anything else I wish you to be happy,’ she began. ‘I pray you would never marry for the wrong reasons. I know Mr Cummings is from a well-to-do family, and you have been enjoying the richer things in life – riding a fine horse, dancing at balls, wearing pretty clothes . . .’
Charlotte nodded, smiling. It had been fun to be treated like a princess after years of struggling.
Mamma paused for a moment. ‘I do not want you to make a bad decision that will affect your life for years,’ Mamma warned. ‘I of all people know that one poor decision can ruin your life.’
Charlotte held her breath. What does she mean?
‘Charlotte, you know that I loved your Papa dearly. We had only known each other for three weeks, but I knew without a doubt that I loved him. When he died, I thought I would die too. But never underestimate the power of human endurance.’
Charlotte nodded, encouraging her mother to continue.
‘I had four children under six and a huge estate to run with the outstations at Budgong, Belanglo and Wollondilly River,’ Mamma explained. ‘Louisa was a sickly baby and I thought she, too, would be taken from us. The convicts were difficult to manage – neglecting their tasks and stealing from me at every turn. The estate was the target of bushrangers and moonlighters, who picked off our cattle and horses, and raided our stores. Our properties were robbed at least ten times by bushrangers in the two years after your father died.’
Charlotte could remember glimpses of that terrible time, when Mamma had been so distracted and Papa was gone, and the delicate new baby was endlessly fussing and squalling. She squeezed her mother’s hand in sympathy.
‘It must have been unbearable,’ Charlotte whispered.
‘Your papa and I had many friends in the district who were kind and offered help. There was one – a local miller with a property near our outstation at Belanglo called George Barton. He had known James back in England in Kent, and had been persuaded to come to Australia by James’s stories of the boundless opportunities here. When James built the flour mill at Oldbury, he employed George Barton to operate it for him.’
Papa must have liked Mr Barton, thought Charlotte, confused. It was Papa who brought him into our lives.
‘After your father died, Mr Barton helped me to make an inventory of all our stock and possessions. I employed him to become overseer, to help me run the estate. Your father had always believed in being lenient with our convict labourers. Unlike many masters, we made sure they had plenty to eat and were not punished unduly. Your father even arranged to bring out the wives and children of two of our convicts from England, so their families could be reunited at Oldbury.
‘Mr Barton, however, thought we had been too soft with the convicts and that if anything “disappeared”, the convict responsible shou
ld be sent to the Berrima lockup.’
‘I remember him sending our groom, Thomas Smith, to the lockup when one of the saddles disappeared,’ said Charlotte. ‘That was just a few days before Thomas was killed by John Lynch.’
‘That’s right,’ Mamma said. ‘Well, about two years after your father died, Mr Barton escorted me on a visit to check on the sheep stations at Belanglo. You know we had to visit the outstations several times a year to check on the sheep and cattle?’
Charlotte nodded, although she could never remember Mr Barton going on these journeys. It was usually Mamma accompanied by a couple of the men.
‘We left on the morning of January 30th, 1836, and had ridden about ten miles when we came to a steep mountain descent, similar to the one we had to descend at the Meryla Pass on our way to Budgong. We were walking down, leading the horses, when two bushrangers jumped from behind a rock armed with large pistols.’
Charlotte’s stomach clenched. She had heard many stories of the violence of the Southern Highland bushrangers, but she had never heard that her own Mamma had been held up.
‘In the most dreadful language imaginable, they ordered us to stop and turn the horses loose, demanding our money and valuables. When they had taken all that we had, they tied Mr Barton to a tree, tore the back out of his shirt and began to flog him with a heavy stockwhip over and over again.’
Mamma paused and covered her eyes, the memories pressing in.
‘They whipped him until the blood ran down his back and his skin was hanging in shreds. I begged them to have mercy, yelling that they would surely kill him. At last they allowed me to untie Mr Barton, who was screaming in agony.
‘I lost my temper, which perhaps was not wise, and chastised the villains for their unchristian behaviour. One of the bushrangers pointed his pistol in my face and threatened me with his stockwhip. He declared that he thought he should flog me as well, as I allowed Mr Barton to mistreat the men.’
Charlotte clutched Mamma’s arm, her heart pounding with fear. ‘Mamma, no – they wouldn’t!’
‘I vehemently denied this charge and defied him to name any man who could complain of being mistreated on my property.’ Mamma’s voice rose with indignation. ‘He retreated somewhat after that and said he made a habit of flogging any gentleman he could so they would know what it was like to be punished.
‘At last, they let us go, telling us they would shoot us if we didn’t turn back. I had to drag Mr Barton up on his horse and lead him back up that steep mountain path. It took us three hours to return to Oldbury. By that stage, Mr Barton was unconscious and I thought he might die. It was terrifying. I had to nurse him back to health over the following weeks. The doctor recommended that I give him rum to kill the pain.’
Mamma shook her head in disbelief.
‘News of the attack spread like a bushfire around the district. Mr Barton had to give a sworn statement, which was subsequently published in the Sydney Herald. Everyone in the colony knew that we had been attacked and Mr Barton flogged.
‘It also came out from our groom, Thomas Smith, that it was actually convict men from Oldbury who were behind the attack, as well as the robberies at our sheep stations and highway hold-ups on the drays travelling from Sydney. It seems that many of the local bushrangers were not hiding in the caves but living openly on Oldbury – they’d work for us by day and steal by night.’
Charlotte felt a shiver run up her spine.
‘Gossip is a terrible thing, Charlotte,’ Mamma continued. ‘Rumours abounded that I had been travelling alone with my overseer, without a female companion. I was snubbed at church.’
Charlotte remembered the many hints she had heard over the years, that Mamma wasn’t respectable. She hated the idea that people had been gossiping about her mother and criticising her behaviour.
‘I felt desperate, frightened and so alone,’ Mamma confessed. ‘Mr Barton suggested that we should marry to stop the rumours; he could protect me. That was what I wanted more than anything – someone to protect us and keep us safe, just like your papa had done.
‘Four weeks after the attack, George Barton and I were married by special licence in the very same church where I married your papa. The two weddings could not have been more different. It was a terrible mistake. The next day, Thomas Smith was bludgeoned to death outside his hut by two of our convicts – John Lynch and John Williamson – apparently for informing on them.
‘As John Lynch was being taken away by the constables, he whispered to Mr Barton to watch his back – he would be next. He said the forests around Oldbury would always be filled with spying eyes and assailants, ready to strike. Mr Barton would drink himself into stupors that would last for weeks at a time. From the first day of our marriage he revealed himself to be a violent drunkard, deranged with fear.’
He certainly was, Charlotte thought, remembering her own aches and bruises.
‘You asked me once why I married George Barton and why I had ruined our lives,’ Mamma reminded her. ‘It simply came down to making a poor decision under difficult circumstances. Yet, it was a decision that I have lived to regret every waking moment of my life.’
Mamma took Charlotte’s hand and smiled.
‘Now I am not for one moment suggesting that your dashing William Cummings will turn out to be a scoundrel like Mr Barton – but I do wish you would think very carefully upon your reasons for marrying him. I would not want you to marry for money or position in society or to escape a difficult situation – you must only marry if you truly, deeply love him.’
Charlotte glanced down at the pearl-and-diamond ring on her finger. Do I love Will? Am I tempted by his family’s wealth? Am I blinded by the attention he gives me? Am I determined to prove Ettie wrong?
‘Mamma, of course I love him,’ Charlotte reassured her. ‘Of course I wish to marry him.’
Mamma sighed and kissed Charlotte on the forehead. ‘Good, my dearest. Then marry him you shall.’
26
The She-Dragon
‘Is there something wrong, Will?’ asked Charlotte as they strolled along a footpath in the Botanic Gardens on their way home from church. Workers and their families were enjoying the Sabbath, sitting on blankets on the grass, sharing picnics and playing with balls. Mamma and the children were walking ahead, giving Charlotte and Will a chance to talk.
‘Sorry?’ he asked, patting her hand absent-mindedly.
Since summer had finished, Will had been much busier with his father’s business and had spent most of his time at Liverpool. Charlotte had not seen him for weeks. Now his mind was definitely elsewhere.
‘You seem very distracted today,’ Charlotte said, twirling the parasol that shaded her from the brilliant autumn sun.
‘I beg your pardon,’ said Will with a forced smile. ‘I was just thinking through a few business issues, which was unbearably rude of me.’
‘Tell me,’ Charlotte invited with a smile.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Will.
A boy with a kite ran across the path, nearly bumping into them.
‘Tell me about the business issues that you are concerned about,’ Charlotte repeated.
Will shook his head and laughed. ‘No, I wouldn’t be so boring. It is nothing to worry your sweet little head with.’
A flash of annoyance surged through Charlotte. There was obviously something worrying Will and his response irked her, as though he thought her too young or too foolish to confide in.
‘We are to be married, Will,’ Charlotte reminded him. ‘I would like to share any problems you might have and learn about your company. Perhaps there is something I can do to help?’
Will laughed again. ‘In twenty years of marriage, I don’t think my father has ever discussed his business affairs with my mother. She doesn’t even know –’ Will stopped abruptly then changed the subject. ‘Well, never mind. I won’
t be up in Sydney for another four weeks; perhaps we can go for a ride then? Amber has been missing you.’
‘Four weeks is such a long time,’ Charlotte complained. ‘And I haven’t seen you for several weeks already. Can’t you come up next week? We could go for a picnic at the beach.’
Will shook his head, a furrow between his brows.
‘I cannot, Charlotte,’ Will explained. ‘I have other things I need to do.’
Will seems so reserved, thought Charlotte. Where is my fun-loving, teasing companion?
‘Are you worried about the petition?’ asked Charlotte, suddenly sympathetic. As Charlotte was still officially underage and a ward of the court, they had to apply to the Equity Court for permission to marry, even though Mamma had given her consent.
‘No, Charlotte,’ snapped Will. ‘When we are married will you be constantly asking me questions about my business? It is not your concern.’
Charlotte fumed. This was a side of Will she hadn’t seen during the relaxed, holiday atmosphere of summer.
‘I would think it is very much my concern,’ Charlotte said, raising her voice. ‘I don’t want to be an empty-headed wife who spends my days shopping and gossiping – I would be bored to tears. My mother always helped and supported my father.’
‘My mother is not an empty-headed wife,’ Will insisted. ‘At least my mother is not a “notable she-dragon”, as they call your mother. You will be busy enough looking after the house and our children without worrying about business affairs.’
Charlotte gazed ahead up the path. There was Mamma, walking along straight-backed, holding Louisa’s hand, chatting to Emily while James was running in front, chasing Samson.
A notable she-dragon, thought Charlotte. Is that what people think of my mother? Is that what Will thinks of her?
‘A she-dragon?’ Charlotte asked stiffly. ‘Who calls my mother that?’
Will paused and flushed. ‘I apologise. I should not have said that.’
Charlotte stopped walking and glared at him. ‘Who calls my mother a she-dragon?’ she repeated, her voice rising. A group of women sitting on a picnic rug turned to stare. Will hurriedly took her arm and led her on.
The River Charm Page 21
