A HAZARD OF HEARTS (34 page)

‘All right. I won’t tease you. I’m the first
visitor allowed past the door, but when you feel strong enough, J.G. would like
to call.’

‘I’d be glad to see him.’ Her colourless tone
had an obvious effect, and he studied her gravely, as if concerned about a
relapse. How could he know it was his own friendly, unemotional attitude that
upset her, as much as her own inconsistency? Hadn’t they agreed to stifle their
passionate involvement newborn, before it could take over their lives? Wasn’t
that what she’d wanted and insisted upon?

Paul got up. With a feeling of panic she watched
him replace the chair, preparing to leave.

‘I’ve wearied you,’ he said. ‘Rest now and
recover your strength. I’ll call again later, by your leave, to see how you do.’

Jo-Beth brought in a pot full of winter roses,
placing them on the window ledge where they burned like cream and pink flames
against the dark glass. She bustled Paul from the room with a brisk ‘Out with
you, sir,’ then hurried back to straighten the counterpane. She felt Elly’s
forehead. ‘You’re so much better, my dear, God be thanked.’

‘I feel rather insubstantial, Jo-Beth.’

‘Food will fix you. Did Paul tell you what’s
been happening?’

‘Yes, he did. But what about you?’

‘What about me? I’ve never been more energetic. You
have no need to worry about me.’ She sounded almost too positive, Elly thought.

‘My stupid illness must have thrown your plans
into complete disarray.’

‘Nothing has been decided, as yet. Alan knows I
can’t think about myself at present, not with a hospital to be run and you
needing me. At first we feared the glandular swelling meant lung disease;
however, Doctor Houston is now more inclined to think it a virulent fever
associated with the glands.’

‘Thank you for all your care, Jo-Beth. I’m
blessed with your friendship. I know it can’t be easy for you.’ Feeling
suddenly exhausted, Elly closed her eyes and heard Jo-Beth quietly leave the
room, freeing her to think over Paul’s visit, his careful kindness and total
lack of lover-like concern.

She turned her face into the pillow, unable to
avoid the painful truth – that while Paul had taken up residence in her heart
and would not be banished, he, it seemed, had been more successful in ridding
himself of her. Had his passion been a momentary flare, rocketing up into the
heavens to burst in glory for a few seconds before falling back down to earth? If
so, she might as well admit it and bury the ashes of those moments amongst her
memories, bearing the pain as well as she could.

~*~

As she grew daily stronger and could dress
and sit by the window, the number of visitors increased. She was touched to
find small gifts left for her by patients she’d cared for over the past
fourteen months. But she felt only embarrassment and annoyance at the cornucopia
of fruits and flowers delivered daily with D’Arcy Cornwallis’ card attached. The
cards were immediately torn up, the gifts send to the wards, and a disappointed
Jo-Beth instructed to keep the sender away, if he should happen to call.

To Elly’s mind, Jo-Beth had descended to the
romantically maudlin. Nothing would convince her that the more than eligible D’Arcy
Cornwallis should be discouraged, nothing but the relating of a tale Elly would
not tell anyone. She twitted Jo-Beth over her change of attitude, then forgot
about Cornwallis until she received his letter. This outpouring, beseeching her
forgiveness, disgusted her with its hypocrisy. She now knew exactly how
Cornwallis regarded her, and had no time for him or his apologies. Banishing
him, she concentrated on the exciting news in the daily papers, in particular
the details of Britain’s entry into the war against Russia in the Crimea.

It had turned out as Alan McAndrews had predicted.
The Tsar, having attacked Turkey in October 1853 and almost destroyed the
Turkish fleet, was reportedly astonished to find himself by January at war with
Great Britain and France. Together Elly and Jo-Beth read of the carnage and the
casualties resulting not only from battle, but from unattended wounds and
disease. Then Elly’s unthinking speculation as to Captain McAndrews’ possible involvement
provoked an outburst from Jo-Beth, who clearly feared such an event. She
stormed off, leaving Elly appalled at her own stupidity, and her weakened
nerves in tatters. Paul found her hunched over the windowsill in tears.

‘What is it? Are you in pain?’ He dropped the
armful of flowering shrub he carried and rushed over to kneel beside her chair.
‘Tell me, Elly. Shall I fetch someone?’

‘It’s nothing. I’m perfectly well. Oh, go away, please
do. I’m making an exhibition of myself and I can’t hel... help it,’ she sobbed,
burying her face in her shawl.

Paul hugged her. ‘You’re being emotional, which
isn’t any wonder. Convalescents are allowed to shed tears, didn’t you know?’

Elly sniffled and sat up, searching for her
handkerchief. His arm around her shoulders felt like a hot brand. She wished he’d
remove it.

‘You’re flesh and blood, Elly, not cast iron,
despite any notions you may have to the contrary.’ He let her go and stood up. ‘Now,
tell me if there’s a difficulty I can deal with, or Jo-Beth, or any number of
others who would climb mountains for you.’

Warmed by his concern she said, ‘I’m just
wretchedly weak and unaccustomed to having my emotions overflow without warning.
I’m sorry Paul.’ She peeked at him over the handkerchief. ‘I’ve hurt poor
Jo-Beth, after she’s been so good and self-sacrificing. I feel like a worm.’

‘She’ll forgive you. Your friendship is strong
enough to stand a small contretemps. Jo-Beth is not the person to hold a grudge
for long.’

‘I know it. But I must apologize as soon as
possible.’

Elly sighed and tucked the handkerchief in her
sleeve. ‘I so dislike unbalanced females, yet here I am wobbling like a child’s
top. Pay no mind to it, as my little Irish maid says whenever I point out
something she’s missed.’ She indicated the chair especially brought for
visitors. ‘Sit and tell me what you’ve been doing, Paul.’

He gathered up the bush flowers, leaving a spray
of shed petals all over the floor, then plunged the remainder into a nearby
water jug and sat down.

‘I’ve been trying to persuade J.G. to take
Pepper as a boarder once more.’

‘You’re going away?’ She couldn’t hide her
dismay.

‘I must. It’s a family obligation.’

‘But I thought you had no family, or only the
ones from Calais, remote cousins who live up in the Hunter River District.’ Her
voice had risen noticeably.

‘My mother’s cousin, Rob Whatmough, and his wife
and daughter. Sadly, Rob lost his wife soon after they settled, so he decided
to move on further west to Bathurst. I visited him a few weeks past and found
him congenial.’

‘So, why must you visit him again?’ She searched
his face, unable to repress a spasm of jealousy.

He looked grave. ‘I’ve had a letter from a
Reverend Barton of Bathurst. Rob Whatmough was killed by a falling tree limb
when riding in the forest, leaving his daughter, Lucy, an orphan. It seems that
on his deathbed Rob commended her to my care.’

‘A child. A little girl.’

‘A young woman. Lucy is seventeen. Oh, I know I
can scarcely take her into my bachelor household. I don’t intend to. Lucy is
skilled in the making of machine lace, as was her family, and while she has no
equipment to do such work here, her nimble fingers are well suited to
employment in a millinery establishment. I’ve found a place in Sydney where she
may be apprenticed. I’ll keep her under my eye and see she’s cared for by the
Widow Brockenhurst, who will house and feed her and see to her welfare.’

‘Well, I’ve no doubt the poor girl will be glad
enough to have a cousin left to her. She must be so lonely in her grief.’ Elly’s
volatile emotions see-sawed once more as she empathised with the forlorn young
woman in Bathurst.

‘Which is why I must leave by the end of the
week. The Reverend Barton’s epistolary style is curt to the point of rudeness. I’d
say he wants to be rid of Lucy.’

‘I’ll miss your visits. Will you call again
before you leave?’ Elly kept her disappointment under control. After all, she
told herself, she was no longer an invalid and could easily take heartening
walks without assistance. With spring just around the corner, the days were
bright and invigorating. She would do perfectly well alone.

‘Of course I’ll come. I’m happy to see you so much
stronger, although you must not return to your duties just yet.’

He doesn’t know how patronising he sounds, Elly
thought as she bade him goodbye. And hadn’t she provided him with the perfect opportunity!
“Convalescents are allowed to shed tears”, indeed. Well, this was one convalescent
who had packed her tears away for the duration. However, he was right about not
going back to her duties. She couldn’t face the wards just yet. Nevertheless, Jo-Beth
must be supported soon. It was too much for her, even with the new staff.

Jo-Beth, who had long forgiven their quarrel,
found her despondent that evening and questioned her about it. Insistent, impervious
to snubs, she finally goaded Elly into response.

‘I’m tired, that’s all. I’m tired of these four
walls, tired of fighting, tired of my ineffectual self.’

‘We’re all tired and overworked, but you’ve
driven yourself beyond sense. While you are physically well again, your spirits
have not yet caught up with your body.’

‘That’s as may be. But the malaise is so
draining. It’s like being at the bottom of a well with a ladder to climb, but
the rungs are so far apart and I haven’t the will to pull myself up.’ Elly
laughed unhappily. ‘Take no notice of my whimpering. I’m not proud of myself.’

Jo-Beth was thoughtful. ‘You won’t thank me for
telling you that this will pass. You know it will, in time. However, I can suggest
a way of making it happen more quickly.’

‘How? Tell me.’

‘You should change your surroundings, find
absorbing new experiences, new faces. You need a holiday, Elly.’

Elly’s face fell. ‘It’s impossible.’

‘No, it’s not. Paul and I have had a discussion
behind your back, for which we hope you’ll forgive us. We have decided that you
should go with him to Bathurst to chaperon young Lucy Whatmough on the return
journey.’

Elly stared, open-mouthed. ‘You’re not serious.’

‘I am. The coach service over the mountains is
good, and the passes are clear. There’s been no snow for weeks. You will enjoy
the trip, I’m sure. I hear the mountain country and the western slopes are
beautiful.’

Oh, if only she
could
go, Elly thought. But
the notion was ridiculous, for many reasons. ‘Just who would chaperon me on the
outward journey?’

Jo-Beth laughed. ‘The coachman and passengers.’

‘Your argument isn’t logical.’

‘It isn’t meant to be. Come, you know you would
love to go. The change will do you so much good. I can continue to run the
hospital perfectly well for a few more days, with the help of two excellent
young nurses and the two new trainees. You know you’re not yet fit to go back
to work.’

‘But Paul... Did he really suggest this?’

‘He approached me with the idea this morning,
asking me to persuade you into agreement. Now, don’t be difficult Elly. Paul is
not just anyone, he’s a friend, the longest-standing friend you have in this
town. He can be trusted to care for you. After all, it’s not as if you haven’t
travelled together before, unchaperoned.’

The unbidden thought flashed through Elly’s mind:
perhaps, if they were thrown together for days on end... Caught between hope
and duty, she wavered, finally raising her hands in surrender. ‘Jo-Beth! What
will I do with you, and how can I do without you? I’m positively beset with
goodwill. All the same, I intend taking my life back into my own control quite
soon, and so I warn you.’

Jo-Beth wasn’t noticeably cast down. ‘We’ll
defer to you in all ways, once you’re back from your holiday. Until then, I’m
in charge, Matron.’

~*~

Four days later Elly and Paul boarded the
paddle steamer going upriver to Parramatta, a thriving town surrounded by
farms, orchards and lush market gardens. There they joined the coach for the
one hundred and twenty mile trip to Bathurst. Its huge body, painted tan with
elegant black scrollwork and shaped like a large egg flattened at the top, hung
on leather straps above the undercarriage; while the team of four strong horses
harnessed to it appeared quite capable of dragging eleven people with sundry
goods up and down mountainsides. Elly, excited by the bustle of departure and
the new scenes, felt stronger by the minute.

Paul handed her up to join with the other four
inside passengers, then took his seat beside her.

‘The baggage is secure, but I’m sorry for those
poor devils up top. They’ll freeze, even in their greatcoats.’ He tucked a rug
around her knees, checking that her feet were placed on a stone foot warmer.

She thanked him and leaned from the window to
watch the coachman spring up to his seat to take the reins. With a shout and a
whip-crack, the coach rolled out of the inn yard onto the hard-packed street,
past St. John’s Church to join the pike road westward. Ahead of them the plain
stretched towards a haze of blue-ridged mountains, and puffs of dust marked the
passage of drays and carts carrying merchandise for the diggings. They passed
these slow vehicles and bowled along at an exhilarating fifteen miles to the
hour past farms, mills, orchards and, closer to the foothills, rows of
grapevines snaking down to the river.