The Currency Lass

by Téa Cooper

  ‘I’ll ride with you.’

  ‘There’s no need.’

  ‘There’s every need.’

  He couldn’t let her disappear again. How long had it been since he’d wanted to spend time with a woman? For days he’d been itching to ride across the hill. Her very aloneness when he’d last seen her following the coffin to the little graveyard ate at his heart, yet he knew the need to mourn, the stupefying cloud of despondency death brought.

  ‘Are you sure you can spare the time? I’m quite able to go to Maitland alone.’ She turned her head as she adjusted her horse’s bridle and the light fell on her face, illuminating the dark bruises under her intense blue eyes from days of mourning and crying, the taut skin stretched tight across high cheekbones.

  ‘I can spare the time. I don’t have to be back here until the evening performance and if it takes too long, well, I shall escort you only as far as your property boundary.’

  She stood ready to mount so he bent, cupping his hands. The horse was a fine animal and big, very big for a woman, and Catherine’s step was as light as one of the circus acrobat’s as she sprang up into the saddle. It was unlikely she needed any help yet she’d accepted his offer, something he suspected she rarely did. She had such an air of determined independence about her, or perhaps it was just the aching loneliness he recognised.

  He mounted and pulled alongside her as they walked down the track from the common to the road. ‘Nice animal.’

  ‘Bessie.’

  ‘Bessie. A very mundane name for such a fine horse.’ The mare’s almost ginger coat gleamed in the sunshine, leaving him in no doubt that Archie didn’t waste his time in the stables.

  ‘Named after Elizabeth I, Queen of England. Archie’s little joke. A fiery redhead.’

  ‘Then a very fine match for Tsar.’

  She dug her heels in and eased Bessie into a rolling canter and pulled ahead of him. She’d give Valentina a run for her money. None of the dramatic flair that characterised his sister’s displays, but possibly Catherine was a better horsewoman.

  After a moment he pulled alongside. ‘So Archie taught you to ride?’

  She gave a short laugh and her eyes lightened for a moment. ‘Yes. I can’t remember a time when I couldn’t ride.’

  ‘Your father was a good horseman?’

  ‘Adequate. For him a horse was a convenience, a necessity. In his later years he preferred his buggy. Archie’s to blame for my passion for horses.’

  ‘Your passion.’

  ‘Indeed. If I had my way we wouldn’t be breeding cattle at Cottington Hill, we’d be breeding horses.’

  They slowed to a walk only when they entered the town.

  ‘Mr De Silva’s house is next door to the Victorian Inn. Just over here.’

  She dismounted before he had the chance to help. ‘Let me take the reins. Will you be long?’

  ‘I doubt it. I was expecting Mr De Silva to call at the house. I need to let him know I’m prepared to receive visitors or at least make an appointment to call on him again. I won’t be a moment.’

  She ducked under the hitching rail and strode up the path to the neat house set back from the street. The outlandish costumes Minnie and May wore held no attraction for him but Catherine’s breeches—

  He let out a slow groan and slipped from the saddle, taking in the length of the empty street and the closed businesses. No wonder the circus wasn’t drawing any crowds; Maitland was a showman’s graveyard. The place appeared deserted. Far too quiet for the bustling country town they’d expected.

  Within moments Catherine reappeared. ‘It seems I’ve led you on a wasted journey. I was too impatient. Mr De Silva has travelled to Cottington today. I feel a fool. I must get back as quickly as I can. Thank you for your company.’

  ‘There’s hours until our evening performance. Let me ride with you.’

  They rode back along the road to the outskirts of town in a companionable silence, then she pulled off and headed across country.

  ‘Shouldn’t we stay on the track until we reach the turn-off to Morpeth?’

  ‘This is a shortcut. We couldn’t come this way with the wagon but on horseback it cuts the trip almost in half.’

  The countryside opened up, vast rolling plains with the occasional stand of trees along the river, the grass lush and green even after the hot dry summer. ‘It’s beautiful land.’

  ‘Yes. It is. This is one of my favourite spots.’ She reined in atop a small hill and they sat and looked down over the spreading plain and the winding river flats. ‘So when do you think you’ll be leaving for the goldfields?’ There was a plaintive note in her voice that he couldn’t miss

  ‘Sooner rather than later. We simply have to come to an agreement about Valentina. Rudi’s keen to leave immediately, a financial decision. It’s killing him paying for a site and not covering costs. There’s very little point in us putting on a show after today. Everyone in Maitland who wants to see the circus has already visited. Yet on the other hand we’re all concerned about Valentina. It’s been over two weeks since we left Sydney.’

  ‘You’re welcome to camp here.’ She waved her hand out towards the view, then her blue eyes lit up and she bestowed a magical smile on him. ‘It’s the perfect solution. There’s water. It’s not too far from town, and you can wait for Valentina without having the expense of camp fees.’ She sat back and grinned, satisfied with her solution.

  It was a good idea. It would keep Rudi happy, give the troupe a break, allow them time to polish some new acts while they waited for Valentina and close enough to town for her to find them when she arrived. Close enough also for him to take a further look at the back-street businesses and the vast array of pubs in the district.

  ‘When do you think Valentina will arrive?’

  ‘It depends when she left Sydney. She had some business and she said she’d leave after that.’ Unless she got herself involved in something she couldn’t handle. He shook the thought away—if that were the case Dan or Hawke would be here by now. More than likely she had fallen for her admirer and was enjoying the experience. As much as her absence bothered him she deserved some time. Since they’d left Van Diemen’s Land two years ago she’d hardly had a moment to herself.

  ‘The trip down the Great North Road shouldn’t take her more than a week at most,’ Catherine said. ‘There are plenty of inns along the way and last I heard the road is in a fair state of repair.’

  ‘And she has Dan and Hawke to keep her company.’

  ‘And fight off the bushrangers.’

  ‘I think Valentina is capable of doing that on her own. She can be very determined if anyone tries to stop her from doing what she wants.’

  ‘Think about what I said about moving your camp here and talk to Rudi. No need to tell me. I ride this way most days so if you’re here I shall find you. Down there is the best camping spot.’ She pointed towards the east where a horseshoe bend in the river formed a perfectly secluded area.

  ‘Are you certain? We are a big camp.’

  ‘Yes, of course. I wouldn’t have made the offer otherwise. Go back and discuss it with Rudi. I’m quite able to get myself home from here. I’ll ride out in the next couple of days and make sure you’re settled.’ She raised her hand and disappeared down the hill, clearing a series of boulders near the river’s edge with a flourish. Archie had every right to be proud of his star pupil. She’d make a fine Cossack.

  The closer Sergey got to the circus camp, the more convinced he became that Catherine’s offer was a perfect compromise. No point in performing without an audience and having to pay a fee for the privilege. Not only that, it would give him more time to search out the pawnshops and pubs. There were so many in the area he’d take an age to check them all out. It wasn’t only Valentina’s absence that was beginning to rankle. His enquiries since they’d arrived had turned up less than nothing.

  Timmy pounced on him the moment he and Tsar reached the camp. ‘Rudi’s pacing and cursing. He wants to
talk to you.’ He snatched Tsar’s reins from Sergey’s hands.

  He sprang from the saddle, lifting his hand in greeting to the raised faces around the table. He could have cut the tense atmosphere with a blunt knife. Rudi and his temper, he should have stayed away a little longer, insisted on escorting Catherine all the way home. Avoided Rudi’s tantrum. Still, the idea of moving the camp wasn’t a bad one. Maybe it would soothe the savage beast.

  ‘Where the bloody hell have you been?’

  Sergey let out a sigh. Rudi had a lot in his favour, he was a great organiser, a financial wizard and the best horseman he’d ever seen but when things weren’t going his way he was a selfish oaf of a man. ‘Out for a ride. Bit of fresh air.’

  ‘Cavorting around with your lady friend. I dunno what it is about you trick riders. Valentina’s bad enough. I don’t need you chasing skirt across the countryside.’

  He schooled his smile, chasing maybe, but not skirt. Oh no! Give him a girl in breeches any day. ‘What’s the problem?’

  ‘What’s the problem? Has lust made you blind as well as irresponsible?’ Rudi knocked back a large slug of rum, which from the fumes filling the tent wasn’t his first of the day. ‘Not worth the time and effort putting a show on with the audiences we’re getting.’

  ‘You’re right.’

  Rudi’s head snapped up and he pinned him with his bloodshot eyes. ‘You what?’

  ‘I said you’re right. I might have a solution.’

  ‘It better be good because I can’t seem to come up with one.’

  Hardly surprising if he’d been hitting the bottle. Sergey sat down on a stool and shook his head at Rudi when he slid the bottle across the table towards him. ‘We need to wait for Valentina.’

  ‘Bloody nuisance if you ask me. Shouldn’t have given in to her ridiculous ideas. We’re not even covering the costs of the camp licence.’

  ‘What we need is a free campsite.’

  ‘Where do you suggest?’ Rudi’s eyes rolled and he shook his head. ‘All the land around here’s granted and I’m not trailing off into the bush with five wagons, three drays and a bunch of prima donnas. We need somewhere with a bit of space, not too far away and access to water and feed.’

  ‘Found that.’

  ‘Found what?’

  ‘Found a campsite with everything you just mentioned for as long as we need it, and at no cost. I reckon we should give Valentina another week. Spend the time practising some new acts; it won’t hurt to have a bit of a change. Be good to have two different shows, one for afternoon and one for evening.’

  ‘So that brain of yours hasn’t taken up residence in your trousers.’ Rudi leant back in his chair and took another swig. ‘Going to tell me where this campsite is?’

  ‘About five miles from here. On the banks of the river. Lots of feed for the horses and plenty of space.’

  ‘How did you come across this parcel of paradise?’

  Good words, Rudi. Good words. ‘Catherine.’ His gut gave a kick at the mention of her name. Apart from her obvious attributes, he’d like to know a bit about Archie’s training techniques. If her horse Bessie was anything to go by, the old man had a few tricks up his sleeve and it never hurt to talk with someone who knew horses.

  ‘Catherine?’ Rudi frowned and then his eyes widened. ‘Your lady friend.’

  ‘That’d be her. Though sadly I can’t claim her as my lady friend. When I rode back with her she showed me the site and offered it to us.’

  ‘What’s the catch?’

  ‘There isn’t one, as far as I can tell. Perfect spot.’ Perfect woman. ‘Want to go and have a look?’

  ‘No time this afternoon. I’ll take your word for it. We’ll do one last show tonight, for what it’s worth, pack up in the morning and make a move.’ He pushed out of his seat and staggered. ‘Gotta go and tell the troops, then get some shut-eye.’

  ‘I’ll do that for you and I’ll send Timmy and Zac into town to leave word so Valentina can find us. We’ll tell the audience tonight.’ He strode out of the tent into the late afternoon sun. Heads turned and the conversation stilled as he made his way to the trestle table in front of the fire pit.

  Nine

  Catherine slowed to a halt and walked Bessie under the archway into the stables, inhaling a lungful of hay and horse sweat.

  ‘Where do you think you’ve been?’

  ‘Archie, please. I know Mr De Silva’s here. I’ve been chasing all over Maitland to find him only to discover our paths had crossed.’

  ‘Took you a long time to chase all over Maitland. You’ve been gone for a good five hours.’

  Catherine batted down the flush on her cheeks. ‘I called into the circus to say thank you to Sergey for all his help with Pa.’

  ‘I guessed as much. Snuck out meself the other night and took a look. Pretty impressive. Man seems to do all them tricks without giving the horse any direction at all.’ He sighed and shook his head. ‘Mrs Duffen’s got her dander up. Something about childish, inappropriate and mourning. Watch yourself.’

  She threw Archie an apologetic grin and took off at a run. In his eyes she could do no wrong, it had always been that way, but Mrs Duffen was another matter, a much harder nut to crack.

  She shot through the front door and ground to a halt outside Pa’s study. Mr De Silva would be waiting there, probably tapping his foot in exasperation unless Mrs Duffen had treated him to her scones and strawberry jam. She pulled her hat from her head and ran her fingers through her hair then straightened her shirt and buttoned her jacket before taking a deep breath and entering the room.

  Pa’s solicitor stood with his back to the room gazing out of the window to the cedar tree. He must be missing Pa. Her heart clutched. This man had worked tirelessly to make Cottington all it was today. He was as responsible as Pa for the string of neatly managed farms, the mill, the timberyard and the vineyard that provided gainful employment for those who’d remained in the area where they’d served their sentences. He’d helped them as much as Pa to forge a new life in the land they hadn’t chosen.

  ‘I beg your pardon. I’ve kept you waiting.’

  His face was grim. ‘I was waiting for you to summon me. We have matters to discuss.’ Disappointment shadowed his eyes. ‘Mrs Duffen was kind enough to escort me up the hill. Reginald will rest peacefully with your mother and the boys. It is all he wished for.’

  She lowered her head to hide the tears springing to her eyes; she should have remembered to invite De Silva to Pa’s funeral. He was one of Pa’s oldest associates, more friend than anything else. ‘Please forgive me for failing to notify you of Pa’s funeral. It was a matter of urgency and I wasn’t myself. Can I get you a drink, something to eat?’

  He gestured to the small table where a decanter of sherry and some biscuits sat. ‘Thank you, no. Mrs Duffen has been more than kind. I apologise for the intrusion. I have to admit I expected to be turned away, I thought you’d still be in mourning. I didn’t want to impose but we have important matters to discuss.’

  His gentle reprimands sat heavily on her mind and she tugged at her riding jacket. She should have thought to change in keeping with her status as a grieving daughter. A few more moments wouldn’t have made any difference.

  ‘Please excuse my attire. I have been thinking about Pa and the property, his dreams. I rode today for the first time and on the spur of the moment went to Maitland to call upon you. We must have passed each other on the road.’ Unless he’d journeyed out here while she’d sat watching Sergey. Perhaps it would be better to leave that little detail aside.

  ‘No matter. We are together now.’ De Silva walked across to the desk and picked up a sheath of papers. ‘I have your father’s last will and testament and other papers pertaining to the property.’

  She eyed the chair behind the desk; saw Pa sitting there, a glass of brandy within easy reach, so she turned to the two leather chairs flanking the fireplace. ‘Shall we sit here?’ She sank down and waited for him to join her. />
  ‘First and foremost.’ De Silva cleared his throat. ‘Your father’s will. As I’m sure you know, you’re his sole heir and as such the property known as Cottington Hill is left to you in its entirety.’

  A long low sigh seeped out between her lips. Proof Pa believed in her, that he thought her capable of continuing his work. All the years they’d spent discussing almost every aspect of Cottington hadn’t been in vain. She knew nearly as much about the place as he did and with De Silva’s help ... she sat up a little straighter and pushed back her shoulders.

  ‘There are, however, certain codicils we need to discuss.’

  ‘Codicils?’

  ‘Addenda to his will that will have an effect on your inheritance.’

  A cold finger ran the length of her spine and a picture of Bartholomew’s face jumped before her eyes. De Silva was going to mention marriage, she just knew he would.

  ‘Let me start at the beginning.’

  A very good idea. She folded her hands on her lap, interlaced her fingers, then lowered her head, a prisoner awaiting sentence.

  ‘I’m the executor of your father’s will and until you reach twenty-one, your age of majority, trustee of the property known as Cottington Hill.’

  Yes, she understood that. Pa had explained and in all truth De Silva had been managing most things since Pa’s health began to decline.

  ‘However ...’ De Silva stood and turned his back to the fire, a sad, wistful look on his face. A bell tolled somewhere in her head.

  ‘However,’ she echoed.

  ‘There is a loan of which I was unaware; it impinges on your inheritance. It was secured against Cottington Hill.’

  ‘Loan?’ Why would Pa need a loan? The sheep, the cattle, the rents from the tenants, the timberyard, the brickworks ... ‘We’ve been free and clear of debt for more years than I can remember. Cottington is a large, profitable, self-supporting property.’

  ‘It is and I’m well aware that you understand better than most the intricacies. However, it seems that came at a cost. Your father was deeply indebted.’