Kate formed her words carefully. ‘But surely now that you have found such favour with the Kables your need for my services has become somewhat redundant. A teacher will be found for your school,’ Kate answered sweetly, ‘and I believe I would make an excellent lady’s companion, a role that you cannot offer me.’
‘You are a most stubborn woman.’ The Reverend rose and paced in front of the fireplace, scuffing the coloured rug until he tripped on a corner. ‘Are you quite sure that you will not return with me? I leave after the noon meal and journey to Parramatta tonight and then onwards to home, your home these past ten years.’
‘I wish you safe passage.’
The Reverend took a step towards her. ‘This is silly, my child. You have a comfortable home, with me.’
‘I have the memory of what it was like to live there with my mother, and for that I must be grateful.’ Rising, Kate excused herself and left the room. Softly closing the door, she rested against the cool architrave. The Reverend Horsley offered hearth and home, comfort and safety; everything that a woman required, but at what cost?
Mrs Ovens was not pleased to have Kate in her domain. Placing her at the far end of the long wooden table, opposite the wide stone fireplace, the large woman studied her, one lace-up shoe tapping the flagstone floor, a wooden spoon clutched in her hand. Kate expected to have her cotton cap struck off her head at any moment, but the cook soon lost interest when Kate said nothing, and returned to measuring out flour. The kitchen was similar to the Reverend’s but more than twice the size, with herb racks on the wall, cupboards, pots, and a heady aroma that emanated from a cast-iron pot in which a large veal pie kept warm.
‘Is that your trunk?’ Jelly-belly, waiting for the meal to be served, opened the window and leant out.
‘What?’ Kate joined her and together they observed the two convicts carrying her chest, another the Reverend’s travelling bag, around the side of the house. Kate couldn’t believe it. Someone had packed her belongings. They were literally throwing her out.
‘Looks like you’re leaving.’
Kate lifted a finger to her mouth and began to bite the nail.
‘Perhaps it’s for the best. I wouldn’t go out there, no fear.’
Returning to her seat, Kate sat heavily. The pie was served up with fried potatoes and set on a tray with a glass of lemon cordial, a single white rose from the garden, silver cutlery and a linen napkin. Jelly-belly waited for the serving to be done and then lifted her mistress’s luncheon tray. Mr Kable had already been served three courses in the dining room. ‘Well then, they won’t make themselves.’ She nodded at the racks of rose petals that had been dried near the fire and placed in front of Kate, a cool blast of air entering the room as she left.
‘And don’t go talking your head off.’ Mrs Ovens turned her wide girth to the bread box. Hunched over the deep bin she finished mixing the ingredients and then expertly formed the loaf with two wooden paddles, before lifting the lid on the adjoining compartment and placing the bread inside to prove. ‘But I will say I don’t like the look of him, that Reverend of yours. Mean-spirited they all are, those types. Telling us what to do and how to do it. I’m not a believer and I don’t mind saying so. It’s just another way of keeping us down at heel.’
‘Neither am I,’ Kate agreed.
The cook gave a single determined nod as if there were some goodness in the world after all and cut Kate a wedge of the pie. ‘You gobble it down now, lass, before that Jelly-legged English girl comes back. It’s soup and bread for her.’
Kate mumbled her thanks, eating appreciatively, before turning her attention to the racks before her. After dusting the petals with powdered cloves and cinnamon, she placed quantities of them in small rose-satin sachets edged with coffee-coloured lace and then began to sew up the ends. It was difficult to concentrate. The soldiers were yet to return, the dray would soon arrive and here she was fiddling with rose petals while her mother’s trunk sat out in the sun. If only she’d not been so outspoken last night, then perhaps Mrs Kable wouldn’t now be forcing her out the door.
‘Leave with him if you must.’ The cook had also been thinking on the matter for she sat opposite Kate, two bulbous elbows perched on the table on either side of a bowl of soup. ‘Don’t be thinking you can’t look after yourself, not yet. If things get real bad use those looks of yours. Plenty of women have had their bellies filled by fouler means. But I doubt if it will come to that.’ Lifting the bowl she took a long drink from it. ‘You’ve got the look of a tom-cat, easily riled and hard to temper, but smart.’ She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘Go where you can make a start for yourself, go where you’ll be needed, but keep that uppity look from your eyes. You ain’t nothing to anybody unless you can prove your worth.’
‘And how do I do that?’
‘Don’t weep or cry out or faint, unless it serves a purpose, or it’s before a man with coin. Do what’s asked of you quickly and well and never ever complain or speak down to your betters. Be capable, but not too capable.’ Mrs Ovens tapped her temple where a lock of grey hair poked from beneath her cap. ‘And don’t marry no man unless there’s money enough, and even if there is, never marry for love. That’s the surest way to get yourself into trouble. For the man is always right, no matter if he’s wrong.’ She wiped a stubby finger around the bowl and licked it.
‘When you get to Parramatta,’ Mrs Ovens continued, ‘beg old MacIntosh to take you a bit further down the Parramatta Road to the Square and Compass. Gwen Winters owns it with that layabout man of hers. She’s a good woman, Gwen. Came out on the same creaking scurvy-ridden hulk as me. Made a pact we’d help each other when we could. She owes me so tell her I sent you. The place is well-known to the wool trade – you’ll be safe enough and you can work off your board and food while you decide what’s next.’
Kate smiled in gratitude but frankly she couldn’t think of anything worse than working in a hostelry. Serving and cleaning after drunks and finicky travellers was not a role she aspired to.
‘They’re coming, the soldiers are coming.’ Jelly-belly entered the kitchen, dropping the tray on the table with a clatter, and moved to the window. Kate ran outdoors to the verandah. A flicker of movement caught her attention. The bush beyond the orchard appeared to be still, but a horse nickered from that very direction and then patches of red appeared, weaving through the trees. The indistinguishable figures spread out to ride three abreast, Major Shaw riding point, as if heading into action. The young Aboriginal girl was not with them.
The men rode straight up to the house at a fast trot. Dirt and grit eddied across the ground as the horses came to an abrupt stop and the men dismounted. They handed their mount’s reins to a convict who’d come running, Major Shaw pulling his mare’s ears affectionately before stamping his dusty boots free of dirt. Lieutenant Wilson caught Kate’s eye. There was a smear of blood on his britches and his ready gaze was marred. The Major glanced at the trunk and bag sitting in the dirt and, without acknowledging her, led the solemn procession inside.
Kate hesitated, and then after a few minutes quietly followed the men indoors. The parlour door was ajar and, within, Mr Kable’s profile was intent as he listened to the Major, the Reverend also in attendance. Kate waited in the hallway fearing being accused an eaves-dropper, but keen to know the fate of the young girl. She took a step closer to the door. The men’s voices were barely audible.
‘There was nothing to be done for her,’ Major Shaw replied in conclusion, his voice rising as he drew to the end of a succinct explanation.
A decanter was opened, liquid sloshed. Kate looked down the hallway and, hearing nothing, edged a little nearer to the door.
‘A pity,’ Mr Kable replied.
‘Indeed. Whether it was her people or another mob of blacks, it is a timely reminder of the pitfalls of befriending the natives.’
Jelly-belly tiptoed along the hallway to stand near Kate. Kate frowned at the girl and the convict scowled back.
/> ‘Many may have become debauched by their addiction to our drink in these parts.’ It was the Major who spoke. ‘And there are others who wish us ill. Blacks who choose to assimilate into an enlightened society are clearly in mortal danger from their own kind.’
‘It is a sorry situation,’ Mr Kable replied.
‘We have no idea of their ways,’ Lieutenant Wilson entered the conversation haltingly. ‘Who is to say that the girl had not done some wrong? Or perhaps she was an innocent victim and those responsible happened upon her by chance?’
‘That we will never know,’ the Reverend agreed.
The conversation paused as the squeak of a wagon carried from outside.
Mr Kable turned towards the door. ‘Miss Carter,’ he called, ‘I did not see you there.’
Kate reluctantly moved to the doorway as Jelly-belly slunk away to open the front door.
‘It were best if you made your presence known, miss,’ the Major accused lightly, ‘this is not for the ears of women.’ He drained his glass and sat it on the table before the fire then turned his attention back to his host. ‘We leave in the morning. Mr Southerland is ready to depart, as you know, and the sooner I reach Maitland with the relieving troopers, the sooner my men and I can return to our duties in Parramatta.’
Kate hovered in the doorway.
Jelly-belly walked back down the passageway. ‘Begging your pardon, Mr Kable, sir, but the dray is waiting for the Reverend and Miss Carter.’ She curtsied and left, nodding gravely at Kate as she passed.
‘I gather I need not call on you before daybreak, Miss Carter?’ the Major stated.
‘You’re leaving, Miss Carter?’ Lieutenant Wilson was at Kate’s elbow, steering her along the hallway where goodbyes were being made to the Reverend.
Kate admitted that at this stage it seemed likely that she would only travel as far as Parramatta. The young man seemed to be buoyed by this remark for he squeezed her elbow ever so slightly. ‘Where might I find you?’ he asked quietly.
‘At the Square and Compass.’ The Lieutenant gave a broad smile, giving him the air of a schoolboy. With dismay Kate realised she’d given the young man a sense of hope, which was not what she’d intended. ‘But I have no idea how long I’ll be there for.’
‘Leave a forwarding address,’ he whispered.
‘Lieutenant,’ the Major directed, ‘fetch the horses.’ The two younger officers walked outside and headed towards the stables, while Mr Kable offered Kate his best wishes before returning to the parlour.
‘So you’re leaving with the Reverend?’ Major Shaw accompanied Kate to the verandah as the Reverend’s travel bag was dropped onto the rear of a dray. The driver, MacIntosh, was petting his horse between the ears and talking animatedly to the animal. The horse kept its head low and pawed at the dirt. ‘You have made the right decision.’
Kate noted the slight condescension to his words. ‘Really?’
‘Well, no-one should expect the weaker sex to embark on such an expedition. It is bad enough that husbands drag their wives out into the wilds but a defenceless single woman?’ He shook his head. ‘You will do better here. In more suitable surrounds and occupations.’
What he spoke of held some truth, and Kate knew by the earnestness of the Major’s tone that the words were well-intentioned. Nonetheless, they were also predictable and ultimately spoke of curtailment; the restriction of a woman’s life through roles deemed suitable by society. ‘As a wife no doubt, or a housekeeper, or perhaps a teacher?’
The Major frowned. ‘Whatever you wish. I for one am grateful for your choice.’
‘Yes, I am sure my presence would have been an unnecessary burden to you and your men.’ Kate tried to keep her tone polite, but there was an unmistakeable curtness to her words. The Major’s face remained impassive although the vein in his neck grew blue and thick.
‘Come, Kate.’ The Reverend treated her to a rare smile. ‘Get your bonnet and travelling cloak and we’ll be homeward bound.’ He extended his hand to her. ‘Our good driver informs me that we are to stay at the Square and Compass tonight and that the food is markedly fine.’
Kate’s stomach turned. Was she never to be rid of this man? As Major Shaw wished her a safe journey, the convicts deposited her trunk in the rear of the dray.
The Reverend’s hand remained outstretched. ‘I have offered Miss Carter the role of housekeeper and teacher, Major. Positions which, although she has to date refused, will undoubtedly be agreed to. Miss Carter doesn’t lack for good sense, a quality that she shared with her mother, may the Lord bless her soul. Amen.’
‘A most excellent option,’ the Major agreed, ‘and most generous of you, sir.’
‘Yes,’ Kate answered tightly, ‘excellent.’ It was clear by the Reverend’s self-satisfied expression that he was most impressed by his manipulations.
With the dray loaded, the shorter of the two convicts approached Kate. ‘If that be all then, miss?’ He nodded to the driver, when she gave a hesitant yes, who in turn glanced skyward at the sun and then at Kate, who was clearly delaying their leaving. The Reverend was rubbing his hands together.
Kate cleared her throat. ‘I will not be travelling with the Reverend.’
The grumbling convicts looked from left to right and then, at Kate’s insistence, begrudgingly carried her trunk back to the verandah, the Reverend complaining heartily.
‘Please go ahead,’ Kate told the bemused driver, who stood with a foot resting on one of the timber wheel spokes, a stick between his teeth.
The man waited a moment, expecting one or another to change their mind. ‘The lass is still shook up from yesterday’s journey,’ MacIntosh said to no-one in particular. ‘I don’t blame her. Me own bones are fairly jolted out of their sockets every time I get in this contraption.’
‘Go,’ she repeated.
The driver shrugged and advised the Reverend to climb up and hang on.
‘Kate, what are you doing?’ he complained. ‘Don’t be foolish.’
‘They be good nags, but you never know when they’ll get spooked and take off across the flat. Best if your Holiness keep a firm grip, least you come to grief ’tween here and Parramatta. There ain’t no-one to say Hail Marys out here.’
‘I am not of the Catholic faith,’ the Reverend stated bluntly.
‘Well then, you do have it all ahead of you, your Holiness.’
‘You are a most stubborn young woman,’ the Reverend told Kate, once he’d assumed position in the seat behind the driver. ‘You will regret this, Kate. Don’t come to me when you are destitute, poorer than poor with not a scrap of food nor a roof above your head to give you comfort. I will not forgive you, nor ask for forgiveness on your behalf. Who would intercede for a woman of your ilk? Who –’
The driver called out giddy-up. There was a screech of leather and timber and the raspy breath of a well-worked horse. The dray jolted forward and the Reverend was flung back and forth. He grasped the timber sides, eyes bulging, his skin turning puce. ‘The Lord will frown upon you.’ The dray moved off quickly, following the track that led out of the farm.
The Major turned to her. The dray was gathering pace, it had already passed the orchard, the Reverend’s straight back in contrast to the slump-shouldered driver. ‘Miss Carter, are you quite sure you know what you are doing? Perhaps you are overcome by the events of the morning. Would you like to sit?’
‘No, no I don’t wish to sit, thank you.’ What would her father do? Kate imagined she was high among the branches of the fig tree again. The air was cool and clear and –
‘Miss Carter?’
She was quickly jolted back to the present. ‘I couldn’t go with him, Major. The Reverend is not a kind man.’
Major Shaw looked askance. ‘He has harmed you in some way?’
‘N-no,’ she stammered.
There were two rattan chairs at the end of the verandah, a matching table between them. The officer took Kate’s arm, a gentle but firm escort. He led them towar
ds the end of the porch where, having seated her, he finally replied, ‘Well, then I don’t understand.’
How could a man such as this ever comprehend her situation? ‘Can we not talk of it, I beg of you. You would not begin to understand.’
‘I should fetch Mrs Kable.’
Kate waved both hands. ‘No, please don’t. That woman will be of no help to me.’
If the officer was shocked by her tone, he did not betray it. Instead, the Major stood somewhat awkwardly a few feet from where Kate sat, a red-coated sentry with the chiselled profile of a Roman bust. A number of times he made the slightest of movements, as if speech were almost possible. She too felt the need to say something, to bridge the uneasiness between them. Once, twice their gaze met and just as swiftly both parties looked away.
‘If I can be of service?’ he asked, finally.
‘I am quite alright. Thank you,’ Kate mumbled.
Wild Lands Page 15
