That man rode up on Satan. "All set?" he asked, tipping his wide brimmed hat over his forehead.
Isabella nodded without meeting his glowing eyes. His excitement was enough to encompass everybody. She could almost reach out and touch it.
"Move along then, Johnny," he called, wheeling his horse to signal to the man sitting alongside Isabella.
Johnny was one of the four convicts among the eight men going with them as well as Dougal and Gillie. He was a bit slow with his thoughts, but strong and reliable. A Dorset-bred man of about fifty, he'd been transported for poaching.
"Hold tight, Missus." He gave Isabella an amiable smile as he slapped the reins to coax the lead horse along.
The party consisted of the wagon, pulled by the gelding that had taken Isabella and Dougal home for the first time, two drays each pulled by five bullocks, and two covered wagons each with four horses in harness. Isabella rode up front on one of these covered wagons, and Thelma was on the other. Tiger now owned seventeen horses in all. Dougal, Gillie and three of the men rode saddle horses while the spare two were hitched behind drays.
The two men in charge of the bullocks were distinctly different from the other men, treating their oxen with more gentleness than the humans. Thelma and Isabella exchanged a grimace when they heard their language. It would have no place in polite society. But Tiger insisted they were masters at handling the bullocks, a necessity where they were heading.
"The oxen are preferred to horses over long trails," Tiger had told them. "They pull a dray steadily, rather than jerk it as the horses tend to do."
Thelma waved from her seat and Isabella waved back. "Sit still, Tim," she commanded. He was bouncing on the bench seat in his excitement. "Hold him tight, Agnes, I don't want him falling off before we get out of the gate."
"He's all right, Missus," Agnes reassured her. Isabella wasn't so confident and had second thoughts about letting him ride with the girl. Agnes was fourteen. She'd been in the colony ten years. Her mother died on the ship over and Agnes had spent most of her life in the orphanage Elizabeth Paterson and Anna King started in 1800. Isabella dreaded to think what would have happened to the girl if these two wonderful women hadn't seen a need to create the institution for the wretched, abandoned and neglected orphans of the colony, of which there were many.
Agnes was gentle and so thrilled to be going on the journey west with them she could be forgiven for being forgetful at times. Isabella wasn't as pleased with the other female they'd been assigned. Lily was twenty but looked and acted much older than her years. Buxom was the only description for her. Seated beside Thelma she was already openly flirting with the driver. Isabella had no illusions about Lily; she would lie with any man who so much as winked at her. The man she craved, Tiger, ignored her blatant efforts to entice him. This fact annoyed and dismayed her. It was obvious that usually few men turned away her free favors.
Isabella wished devoutly they could have got a woman with more sense and less conceit. But they needed another woman's help. Thelma had grown so thin and was sick so often these days they were forced to take Lily. She seemed to be a willing worker; if only she would keep her hands off the men. She'd been in the criminal class at the factory for being drunk and disorderly and Isabella had no idea why Tiger selected her.
Dougal, Gillie, their five dogs, and three of the men left yesterday with the flock of sheep, the cattle, goats and pigs. They planned to meet them at the Nepean River.
It had taken weeks of packing, a task Tiger oversaw with impatience and exactitude. Even now Isabella couldn't believe how demanding he'd been. But no one could deny he'd planned everything down to the last detail.
Cherry and plum stones, walnut, chestnut and hazelnuts had been packed in papers, then put in well-corked bottles. They carried potatoes, hop and clover seed, vine cuttings. Tea, sugar, glass, crockery, flour, grain; meat, salted or smoked. Fruit and vegetables to eat on the journey as well as seedlings. Beer and spirits. Linens, wool, agricultural and carpenter tools. Their clothing and some of the furniture from the house, along with many more provisions to last for the next six months when they would be isolated, miles from anywhere. The fledgling township of Bathurst consisted of no more than a barracks, granary, cottages for the medical officer and magistrate, and a jail hospital with an officer in charge.
Isabella turned to lift a hand as the wagons trundled away from the house. The new owners stood with their arms about each other. They were free settlers, a young couple fresh from England who'd been more than eager to buy the place from Tiger.
"Sit still now, Dougie, and stop shouting. Tim can see you from here. He's only on the next wagon, not miles away," Isabella admonished. At three Dougie idolized his brother. The pair of them were inseparable. If Tim was out of sight for more than a few moments Dougie put on a tantrum. "Keep an eye on the pups. Their mama will want to know they are being looked after."
Dougie did as he was told and began to speak to the litter of five that slept in a box behind the seat, alongside a cage holding some of the fowl. The bitch trotted alongside the wagon, her tongue lolling, her soft eyes darting upwards every now and then to where she knew her brood were.
It was hot for September, a haze over the mountains in the distance making them seem alien.
"The boss reckons we should reach Rooty Hill by nightfall, Missus," Johnny commented, then shouted to one of the bullock drivers who urged his charges on with a long whip.
"Aye." She nodded. What Tiger said usually came to be. He'd said it would take them about two to three weeks to cover the hundred and twenty miles to Bathurst. Not that he'd told her personally. The news was passed on through Thelma. Isabella and Tiger barely exchanged a word these days unless it was crucial. Isabella often felt as if Thelma and her children were the only souls who thought her worth anything. Even Gillie, who'd never had much to say, rarely spoke to her any more. Of course he blamed her for Dougal's taciturn and surly temper. Perhaps he was right. To be refused a husband's rights for so long would try the patience of any man, she supposed. Odd as it seemed he'd never tried to force himself on her again, and she wasn't about to make the first move to bridge the gap between them. Perhaps he despised her so much he had no desire to touch her. Who could blame him?
Tiger rode back when they'd been travelling for about an hour. Isabella was in the leading wagon. He gave her a small, barely definable, nod. "'Tis fair going for a while, Johnny," he said, turning in his saddle to wave when Tim called out to him. "Hello, Tim, mind you watch the road for wild animals, eh?"
"I'm watching, Tiger," Tim yelled back, scanning the side of the road eagerly. "Did you see the mob of kangaroos? How many was there, eh? About a thousand?"
"More like a hundred, I'd say, Tim."
Tiger stared at Isabella for a while. The woman grew lovelier with each passing day. Gone was the innocent air she'd worn in the early days. A kind of ethereal beauty that sometimes struck him like a kick in the gut replaced it. She didn't let Dougal into her bed; hadn't in the three years since Dougie's birth. The man must be mad. If she were his woman he'd bend her to his will in no time.
No he wouldn't, and he knew it. He fooled himself into thinking she still bore a small touch of the lust he felt for her. But it was as if she was untouchable. She'd shut herself off behind a wall of her own making. Heaven knew that Dougal was going half insane with wanting her; his own feelings Tiger managed to keep under strict control. If she so much as got a scent of exactly how he felt she would twist him around her little finger. No woman was going to make a fool of him.
"Is the boy tiring?" he asked Isabella, suddenly feeling a need to force her to converse with him.
"Ask him yourself. He's a tongue in his head," she said.
Tiger shook his head and returned her glare. Shrugging his shoulders, he rode off. Damn the woman.
* * *
They made camp at nightfall, at Rooty Hill. "The boss was right, eh, missus?" Johnny said with a grin.
"Aye, he
usually is," Isabella replied wryly.
The boys ran about, whooping and shouting as the tents were erected. "'Tis not every boy who manages to start out on a great adventure on his birthday," Thelma said to Tim when they paused for breath.
"Aye, and if he doesn't quieten down, he'll be a boy who's sick on his birthday," Isabella retorted, grabbing hold of Tim as he ran past her. "Come and eat these special cakes Thelma made for you."
"You can't blame them for wanting to stretch their legs, Bella. 'Tis a long while for them to sit on the wagon." Thelma stretched and put a hand to her spine with a groan as she sat on the ground near the fire.
"Mm, lovely cakes." Tim sat cross-legged on the grass and took one. Dougie sat beside him, copying Tim's movements, and the two of them put their heads together, giggling.
"Just look at that harlot. Jesus, I wish Tiger hadn't brought her." Thelma turned her nose up as they watched Lily flaunting her large breasts to the men sitting in a circle around their separate fire, eating their ration of food.
"She's helped with the cooking and pitching of tents, Thelma, so I s'pose she's done her share of the work. At least she'll keep the men happy, and they might keep their hands off Agnes and their eyes off me. I didn't fancy the way a couple of them were eyeing me earlier."
"Tiger'll keep them out of your way, Bella." Thelma yawned.
"You think so. He probably thinks me no better than Lily." Isabella sighed, stroking Dougie's dark head as the child munched on his wheat cake.
"No, Bella. He gave up thinking of you as that kind long ago."
Isabella gave her a skeptical look. "He has a funny way of showing it then. He still treats me no better than a convict slave."
"Ah, Bella, that's not true and you know it." Thelma made a small sound of disgust. "You're both as stubborn as each other. The pair of you have too much pride to admit you were wrong."
"Maybe so. Tim, put the pup down while you're eating," Isabella scolded.
Tim laughed, but did as he was told. The pup waddled over to join its mother and littermates.
"I hope Gillie and Dougal are managing all right. Those men they have with them are all supposed to have some experience as shepherds or herdsmen, but they looked a sorry bunch." Thelma pulled a face as she began to cough raggedly.
"Where's your medicine?" Isabella got up to go to the bag holding Thelma's personal possessions. Doctor Neale had given her a good supply of the herbal concoction that eased the racking cough. Isabella hoped sincerely it would last until Tiger made a return trip to town, once they were camped on the new land.
"Thanks, dear." Thelma smiled, taking the bottle. She took a sip of the dark liquid, then licked her lips. "'Tis the damp air that brings on the cough. Once we get onto the plains I'll be fine."
Isabella said nothing. She doubted Thelma would improve anywhere. If Doctor Neale had been able to stop the coughing before now he would have done so, she was sure.
"Come on, boys, let's get you into bed." Isabella picked Dougie up and for once he put up no argument.
Tiger walked over to their fire and ruffled Tim's hair as the boy gravely offered a hand to be shaken. "Goodnight, lads," he said. "No tricks now, go straight to sleep this night. We have a long trek ahead of us tomorrow."
"All right, Tiger," Tim agreed, yawning. "You will let me know if you see an opossum in the trees though, won't you?"
"Aye, that's a promise. If one comes down to see what we're a doing in his part of the woods I'll be sure to give you a call." Tiger grinned.
Isabella turned her back on Tiger as he sat on a log near their fire, stretching his long legs before him. He began to talk softly to Thelma as Isabella and Agnes prepared the boys for bed.
"I be fair worn out missus, I'll stay here along with the boys," Agnes said when Tim and Dougie were settled.
"I shan't be long from my bed either." Isabella pulled down the tent flap. She returned to the fire to find Tiger there alone.
"Thelma's gone to her tent," he said, when she hesitated.
"Then I'll be off to bed myself."
Tiger caught her by the wrist as she turned.
"Don't leave on my account. Stay and talk awhile." He tugged gently on her arm.
"Why the sudden urge to talk to me?" She glared at him. "'Tis so long since you spared me the time of day; I'm wondering why you should want my company all of a sudden."
"Oh, Bella." He took his hat off and rumpled his hair. It clung damply to his skull, and something quivered deep inside Isabella. Running her tongue over her lips she sat on the log, as far away from him as she could get without falling off the end.
His brows went up and he chuckled. "I have no disease that's catching, you know. 'Tis a sad state of affairs, don't you think when we can't sit and talk like two adults."
"You've not needed my conversation for so long, Tiger Carstairs, I'm thinking maybe you're missing all the females of Sydney Town. How are you going to manage without them, eh? So, you believe Bella will do to pass the time with, is that it? What about Lily, yonder? She's willing to do more than talk with you, so go discuss your day with her."
Abruptly she rose to her feet. But he was too quick for her. In an instant he'd pulled her back down, much nearer to him. "Don't make a scene, Bella." He frowned. "Those cons are thieves and blackguards and the other men aren't much better. As long as they know you're under my protection they'll not lay a finger on you. So don't let them think you want nothing to do with me. I need them to respect me, or I'll have all sorts of trouble on my hands. All right?"
Isabella sighed resignedly and relaxed a bit.
"And Lily is a trollop. I want nothing to do with her. That's one of the main reasons I agreed to let her come along. She can keep that lot happy." He nodded across to the group, who were laughing raucously.
"Oh, it's a wonder you didn't expect me to be the camp whore. After all that's how you think of me," she snapped, then bit her lip as he gave her a dark scrutiny.
"'Tis a long time since we've discussed that matter. Would it help you to know that I long ago decided I was wrong?"
Isabella shook her head ruefully. "It would have saved a lot of bother if you'd been man enough to admit that a long time ago."
Tiger sighed and twisted his hat in his long fingers, thoughtfully studying its brim. "Perhaps. But fate has a strange way of sorting things out."
"Aye, it has that. Tell me, where is the bride you were so intent on getting yourself? The one who was your pass into society? Seems fate didn't sort things out for you. Couldn't you find a prissy miss willing to come along on this trip inland?" Isabella knew, from Thelma, that he'd forsaken that idea some time ago. What she didn't know was why.
"That's about it, Bella." He stared at the fire for a moment. "Like I said, 'tis strange how fate works. Prudence was appalled and, I think, terrified by the thought of marrying a rough ex-con like me. And the other misses were keen to flirt and flutter their eyelashes at me in church, but when it came to courting, they fled behind mama's skirts." He let out a long sigh. "Not one of them seemed enamored of the idea of roughing it beyond the mountains. When I put the proposition to one young maiden she practically fainted clean away. Seems coming to the colony proved enough of a shock to their fragile systems; the idea of living in a tent or a bark hut didn't appeal."
"What a blow to your ego." She watched him prod the fire with a long stick. "Fancy not one of them being willing to accompany Tiger Carstairs, the legendary lover of Sydney Town, on his trip into the unknown."
His broad shoulders lifted, and he shook his head. "You came."
"Only because I have no choice. Given the choice I would have preferred Dougal to get a grant nearer town."
He turned his eyes on her and stared for so long she shifted beneath his scrutiny. "Are you happy with Dougal?" he suddenly asked.
Isabella gasped. "You're unbelievable, d'you know that? Dougal is probably the unhappiest person alive. I had no right to marry him."
"I didn't ask about Do
ugal. I asked about you."
She dragged her eyes from his and looked into the fire, letting the flames mesmerize her. "I have my children. That's all a woman can really ask of life, seems to me. At least children love unconditionally."
"Poor Bella," he whispered, a wealth of sadness in his tone.
Isabella shot to her feet. "Don't you poor Bella me." For some reason she felt like bursting into tears. "Never feel sorry for me, do you hear?" With a muffled sob she turned and ran.
He called her name softly, but she ignored him. Why did he suddenly have to start going soft on her? She needed his sympathy less than she needed anything else from him, including his sudden attention.
Tired as she was after the long day's journey she didn't sleep for hours, but lay staring up at the roof of the tent long after the laughter of the men died, and apart from the occasional whinny of a horse or soft bellow of one of the oxen, the camp was quiet.
Chapter Twenty Seven
Gillie rode to meet them as they neared the banks of the Nepean River. Waving his cabbage-tree hat he drew his horse in beside the wagon where Thelma sat. "Ho, how's it?" he shouted, grinning.
"Fine, just fine. Did all go well? I see you have all the stock safely across." Thelma gestured to Dougal, who stood on the far bank.
"Aye, 'tis fortunate we took the fleece off the sheep afore we left. We feared we'd lose some. But all are over safely, though it took a while." Gillie saluted Tiger when he rode up. "How was your night, Thelma? Not too cold in the tent?" His smile faded as he gave her a keen look.
"She had a bout of coughing, Gillie, but it eased with the medicine," Isabella assured him. Her reassurance didn't help, for his frown deepened.
Tiger looked to the darkening sky, saying, "Let's get as much as we can across before nightfall. Do you think we'll manage without offloading some of the stuff, Gillie?"
The foreman shook his head. "No. I'd say it'd pay you to take the wagons over as light as possible. We don't want to sink in the mud. 'Tis very soft sand, I doubt it would take a heavy load. Certainly not the drays."
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