Destiny's Path

by Anna Jacobs

  When he returned to find the young woman, she was nowhere to be seen. He stood there, bitterly disappointed. He could usually trust his judgement of people.

  Then she came out from behind the building and her face lit up when she saw him standing there with the one bag and two pitiful bundles in one hand.

  She blushed as she came towards him. ‘I was just – attending to my needs.’

  ‘Check first that everything is here,’ he said.

  She fumbled through her things and nodded, stroking a crumpled photograph of two elderly people.

  ‘Your parents?’

  ‘Yes. They’re dead now. It’s all I have of them. How did you get my bundles back?’

  ‘I offered to pay the rent you owed.’

  ‘They’re worth more than that.’

  ‘I guessed they must be when she refused, so I threatened to call in the police and accuse your landlady of theft.’

  She gave a rusty laugh, which ended with a cough. ‘She’d have hated that. I think – no, I’m sure she buys and sells stolen goods, just in a small way.’

  ‘Then why were you staying in such a place?’

  ‘A corner of her cellar was all I could afford.’

  ‘What shall we do with you now?’ he wondered, then saw her swaying again. ‘Here, give me those bundles back and take my arm.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I’m just – not feeling right yet.’ She clutched him tightly.

  ‘I’ll take you back to my lodgings and see if they can find you a room.’

  She looked down at herself, her lips quivering at the sight of her crumpled, dirty clothes. Her voice was so low he had to bend forward to hear what she said.

  ‘Nowhere respectable will take me in looking like this.’

  He grinned. ‘They will when they hear my story. I think you’re a cousin of mine from England and I turned up just in time to save you. What’s your name, by the way?’

  ‘Nancy.’

  He waited but she didn’t offer a surname so he didn’t press the point. ‘Nancy Deagan it is, and you’re my uncle Niall’s youngest daughter. Remember that now. You’re Nancy Deagan.’

  At the lodging house, he whispered, ‘Leave this to me.’ He found the landlady and asked her help for his cousin, whom he’d found in great distress.

  She looked at him suspiciously and he said bluntly, ‘I’m bringing you a decent young woman who needs help, Mrs Greeling, not a streetwalker. I don’t want her in my bed – didn’t I play with her as a child when we visited them in England? She’s my cousin on my father’s side, uncle Niall’s daughter, and I promised her brother I’d look for her here. I need your help and surely you’ll not be turning the poor girl away?’

  Conn came back just then, listening to the conversation without betraying any surprise. ‘You found her, then, Bram. Poor thing, she looks terrible.’

  ‘You know her sir?’ the woman asked, still suspicious.

  ‘I’ve never met her before, but she’s Bram’s cousin and I knew he was going to look for her. I can offer her a job as a maid and I’d be grateful if you’d give her shelter till we leave. You know how hard it is to find maids here.’

  ‘Very well, then. Since you vouch for her.’

  ‘She might be grateful for a bath,’ Conn added. ‘I’ll pay extra for that.’

  ‘Very well, sir.’

  Bram noticed how embarrassed Nancy looked at this statement, but there was no getting away from it: she was dirty enough to smell bad. ‘Do you have clean clothes in your bundle, Nancy?’

  ‘No. They’re all dirty now.’

  Conn slapped Bram on the back. ‘Then we’d better go and buy your cousin some clothes from a second-hand dealer.’

  Once they were out of earshot, he turned to Bram. ‘You’re still a sucker for a creature in distress, I see.’

  Bram shrugged. ‘She fainted right in front of me and no one tried to help her. I couldn’t leave her lying in the street, now could I? I believe she’s a decent young woman and if you really meant it about a job, I’m sure she’ll accept.’

  Conn shook his head, smiling ruefully at Bram. ‘We’re both of us too soft-hearted.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘If she proves suitable, this may give Xanthe the opportunity she needs.’

  ‘Opportunity to do what?’

  ‘She wants to leave and go travelling.’

  ‘Can a maid in Australia afford to do that?’

  ‘This maid can. She and her sisters were left some money by their uncle in England. He owned a big grocery shop.’

  Bram’s expression grew thoughtful. ‘One day I’ll have money to leave to my family. I’d never have managed that in Ireland, but from what people have said, I shall have a better chance here of making good. I’m going to open a shop.’

  ‘Make some money for me, too, while you’re at it. You always were a quick-witted fellow.’

  Bram grinned. ‘I’ll do my best.’

  Ronan walked into the kitchen to find Xanthe working on her own. ‘I was hoping for a cup of tea.’

  She stopped stirring whatever was in the big pan and gestured to the blackened kettle sitting simmering on the side of the hob. ‘Push that over the heat. Would you mind making the tea yourself? I’m a bit behind today and I daren’t stop stirring this at the moment.’

  ‘Why are you behind?’

  ‘Mrs Kathleen was here.’

  ‘She seems to have attached herself to you.’

  ‘I don’t know why. She does nothing but complain and she won’t help me at all.’

  ‘She doesn’t think it right.’ He moved the kettle and fetched the big teapot. ‘Her family filled her head with nonsense. You’ll have a cup with me?’

  ‘I think everyone would enjoy a cup. Where is Kathleen? Did Sean let her take a horse out?’

  ‘He rode out with her, grumbling all the time. I think Conn told him to do that. She shouldn’t go out on her own on these faint tracks. I’d not do it myself till I knew the countryside better.’

  Following her instructions, Ronan brewed a pot of tea, then set out cups and saucers. ‘Would there be something to eat with it?’

  ‘Are you hungry already? You ate enough breakfast for me and my sister both!’

  He grinned. ‘I’ve been mending the front veranda. Some of those floorboards were loose. It’s hungry work.’

  ‘Are you a carpenter as well as a gentleman?’

  ‘Sometimes. Like most lads, I enjoyed trying my hand at woodwork. I used to pester the estate carpenter to let me make things and he couldn’t bear to see wood wasted, so he taught me properly.’

  ‘Didn’t your father mind?’

  ‘My father didn’t care what we did as long as we kept out of his way. My mother just cared that we were happy, when we were children at least. Later, what she cared about most was for us all to get married. I never gave her the grandchildren she wanted, nor did my older brother, Hubert, but Patrick did, at least.’

  He looked so sad Xanthe laid her hand on his and he turned his over quickly to capture hers. ‘You’re a kind woman.’

  ‘Am I? Sometimes, perhaps. It’s Maia who’s the really kind one. She’d do anything for anybody, my sister would.’

  ‘What are you saying about me now?’ Maia came into the room. ‘Ah, you’ve just brewed a pot of tea. That’s good. Mrs Largan didn’t fancy her breakfast but she’s a bit thirsty now.’ She hesitated, then added, ‘She’s hardly eating a thing. I’m worried about her.’

  ‘I’ve scones newly baked. And that jam that we had sent from Perth. It’s not good jam, but it was all Conn could find, since most people make their own.’

  ‘That’ll be fine.’

  Ronan pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘I’m not moving till I’ve had a scone or two. You’d not see a man go hungry, surely, Xanthe?’

  He spoke her name so easily and his smile was so warm that Xanthe saw Maia staring at the two of them and couldn’t help flushing as she realised her sister must have
seen them holding hands. She’d have to tell her sister later not to read too much into that. She was just comforting a man who was feeling sad about losing his mother . . . that was all.

  That morning Francis woke early, his breath catching in his chest in a way that frightened him. He looked at his wife, who was still asleep. He hated the way Livia had to do the menial work. Her beautiful hands were now red and rough. They’d asked around for a girl to help out in the house, but hadn’t found one yet.

  He slid from the bed and got dressed in the living room, then walked slowly outside. The sun hadn’t fully risen yet and the world was bathed in a half-light that seemed to dim the colours. Birds were calling sleepily, one bird crooning nearby.

  He walked down to the stables, feeling stronger by the minute, cheered by that. When he started to cough, he tried to hold it back, not wanting to wake anyone. But it wouldn’t be held back and suddenly he was fighting for breath and the cough was trying to tear his chest apart.

  The world went dim around him and he found himself lying on the ground, with no idea of how he got there. The coughing had eased now, but he needed to rest, was so tired, so very tired. He closed his eyes and let the first rays of the sun warm the clammy skin of his forehead.

  Livia heard Francis coughing and sat up in bed as he went on and on. She’d never heard him sound so bad. It was heart-rending to hear him struggling for breath. She slipped out of bed and wrapped a shawl round herself before venturing outside.

  She was in time to see him fall slowly to the ground and lie there. As she ran across, she saw him open his eyes, then close them. By the time she reached him, he was dead. There was blood everywhere, great clots of it, so bright in contrast to his pale face.

  Leo had come out to join her and knelt beside Francis now, closing his eyes.

  ‘I didn’t think he’d die quite yet,’ she said, feeling numb and disoriented.

  ‘He died quickly, at least,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, Leo, what am I going to do without him?’

  He shook his head. ‘I can look after his horses.’

  ‘But I can’t look after a farm and I need to make money.’

  ‘We’ll ask Reece. He’ll know what to do.’

  She sat a moment or two longer, then bent to kiss her husband’s forehead and stood up. ‘Could you carry him to the veranda? I’ll bring out a blanket for him to lie on. Then could you go and tell Reece what’s happened, ask him to come and help me?’

  Leo nodded but didn’t move.

  ‘You should have a drink of hot, sweet tea, Mrs Southerham. It’ll help. I’ll make it for you.’

  Nothing would help, she thought wearily. She’d told Francis she’d open a school when he was gone, and it had comforted him, but she didn’t feel capable of that.

  When she’d covered Francis she found that Leo had made a pot of tea and sat down to drink a cup, just as he’d suggested. It gave her something to do, at least.

  Who would she talk to in the evenings now? she thought suddenly. And how long would Francis’s money last?

  What was she going to do with her life? As a clergyman’s daughter she could call herself a lady – but she couldn’t afford to live as a lady. She was nearly forty, wasn’t pretty, so had never attracted men’s attention until Francis, dear Francis, so doubted she’d remarry. That was the easy way out for widows without children, to marry again. Only she wasn’t practical at housework so what use would she be in this colony?

  Then Reece appeared, followed by Leo, and the sad round of tasks began.

  Leo washed the body for her. She shrank from that.

  ‘Shall we bury him on this farm or on the hill next to Kevin?’ Reece asked. ‘It’s a pretty spot up there for a grave.’

  ‘Wherever you think best.’ She didn’t seem able to make a decision herself today.

  ‘Come and spend the night with us.’

  ‘I couldn’t leave him alone here.’

  ‘Leo will be here.’

  ‘Weren’t we lucky to find Leo? I don’t know what I’d do without him.’

  ‘He was lucky to find you. Pack what you need for the night. I’ll ride over to tell Conn. Some of them will want to attend the burial, I’m sure.’

  She did as he asked and nearly fell into Cassandra’s arms when they got to Reece’s farm, able at last to weep and accept comfort.

  The next morning Conn decided to go out with Bram to inspect the Perth shops and work out what sort of goods it might be profitable to bring into the country. First they checked on Nancy, however.

  She was a different person this morning, now that she was clean and wearing decent clothes. Her hair was straight, a soft brown in colour, shining clean now and tied back with a ribbon. Her eyes were grey – honest eyes, Bram thought. She looked first at him. ‘I don’t know how to thank you for this. Once I find work again . . .’

  ‘What was your work?’

  She flushed. ‘I was working as a maid. Only my employer was – he . . .’ Her voice trailed away and she flushed in embarrassment. ‘When I wouldn’t let him into my bed, he got his wife to dismiss me. I didn’t have references or anywhere to stay, and though I tried to find work, ladies were suspicious of me – and I refused to work for a man on his own. I think my employer had told people I was a thief, because usually it’s easy for maids to get other jobs. I fell ill and then . . . I had to sell some of my things.’

  After studying her, Conn asked, ‘Would you work for me and my mother?’

  ‘Can I meet her first?’

  ‘We live a full day’s ride to the south in the country.’

  As she hesitated, Bram said softly, ‘You can trust Conn Largan with your life, and you’ll like his mother, I promise you. I know it’s hard to trust two strangers, but the landlady knows Mr Largan and his mother, so you can ask her about them, can’t you?’

  Her face cleared and she nodded. ‘Yes. Thank you, sir. I’d like to work for you and I promise you won’t regret hiring me.’

  ‘Come and have breakfast, then,’ Bram said.

  She looked at him in shock. ‘It wouldn’t be proper for me to eat with you.’

  ‘You’re supposed to be my cousin, so I can’t leave you to eat in the kitchen on your own, now can I?’

  She ate very little and when they pressed her, said she couldn’t fit any more food in, so Conn went to ask the landlady’s advice about feeding up his new maid and she promised to keep an eye on the young woman while they were out.

  ‘How will we get her back to Galway House?’ Bram asked later as they left their lodgings to go exploring the city.

  ‘She’ll have to ride pillion.’

  ‘I doubt she’s strong enough for a day’s riding, and it’s asking a lot of the horses.’

  Conn frowned. ‘I think she’ll have to try. It’s the only way. We can take it in turns to have her ride behind us. I’m not being heartless, but I need to get back to my mother as quickly as possible. I don’t like leaving her alone with Kathleen.’

  The two men tramped the streets, listening to people and going in and out of shops. At one stage they found a small horse sale taking place on a bit of vacant land, so of course Conn had to stop and inspect the animals being offered. He frowned at most of them. ‘Poor devils have been used hard,’ he muttered to Bram.

  But in one corner he found a couple of mares which he felt had promise. ‘These look like they’ll grow up to be strong workers.’

  ‘They’ll not be pretty looking.’

  ‘That doesn’t matter. I don’t breed for show.’

  Bram grinned. He might try to help people in distress, but Conn couldn’t pass a good horse without stopping and if he said these mares had promise, then Bram was sure they were worth looking at. He’d have said they were only average himself, but he’d worked in the stables of landed gentry and their horses were for show and riding, so were a different type of animal. ‘How will you be getting them back to the farm?’

  Conn stood frowning for a minute or two, then s
lapped one hand against the palm of the other. ‘I’ll buy a small cart and tie these two behind it. The horse you’re riding will pull it, and your cousin can ride in the cart. Afterwards, you can use the cart in your new business – we could make it my first investment.’

  ‘Done. But we’ll choose the cart carefully. I’ll want it to be sturdy, though of course I can refurbish it myself.’

  Conn nodded and looked at the sky. ‘It doesn’t look like rain, so if we have to camp rough overnight, so be it. We need a few more blankets at Galway House anyway so I’ll buy some.

  ‘After I’ve seen the Bishop we’ll spend the rest of the day getting some extra provisions. Might as well take advantage of being here to choose them for ourselves rather than ordering them through our local shop. You get better quality that way.’

  Just before two o’clock Conn presented himself at the Archbishop’s Palace, a splendid building by Perth standards. He’d changed into his clean shirt and spruced himself up but felt apprehensive. He hated facing strangers as an ex-convict.

  He was kept waiting for fifteen minutes, then shown in by the secretary, a man of middle years and quiet appearance.

  After the formalities had been got through, the Bishop said, ‘I believe you’re an ex-convict, Mr Largan.’

  ‘Yes. But I was innocent and I’m prepared to swear that on the Bible.’

  The Bishop raised his eyebrows. ‘The law doesn’t think so.’

  Conn shrugged. ‘I can only tell the truth, your grace.’

  ‘Well, whether you’re innocent or not, you’re still one of my flock and entitled to my help if you need it. My secretary says it’s about an annulment. Kindly tell me the details.’

  When Conn had finished the Bishop sat lost in thought for a few moments then sighed. ‘It’s a lengthy business, an annulment, unless you have useful connections in the church.’

  ‘I don’t. Not now, anyway.’

  ‘And your wife? I gather she’s not in agreement about this.’

  ‘No. She’s a strange woman, so rigid she can’t cope with changes in her life. She knows she needs someone to look after her and now that all the others who might have helped her are dead or far away, she insists she’s staying with me.’