Destiny's Path (20 page)

‘You’re in no fit state to go walking around. Tell me where it is, how much you owe them and I’ll bring your things to you.’

She gave him a suspicious look and pressed her lips together as if holding the information tightly back.

Annoyed, but trying to understand why she’d be so suspicious, he pulled out his battered pocket watch, a farewell present from his father. ‘Hold on to that till I return, then we’ll think what to do next.’

She stared at him open-mouthed as he pressed the watch into her hand and clasped her fingers round it. ‘I’ll look after it carefully. You’ll still find me here when you get back, I promise.’

‘I never doubted it for a second.’ He listened to her instructions, then strode off briskly.

It took him longer than he’d expected to find her lodgings and force her sour-faced ex-landlady to give him her things in return for payment of the rent owing. It was only by threatening to go to the police and accuse her of theft that he got the carpet bag and two bundles back.

The amount owing had been so little that he’d easily had money enough and some to spare because he’d sold a couple of Mrs Maguire’s possessions on the ship.

He wondered sometimes if the gentry knew how little made the difference between survival and starvation to poor families. He’d never forget that, he vowed, and he’d always try to help those in trouble. But he’d also try to help himself, now that he’d been given a chance to make something of his life.

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.’