I fancied there was a faint note of approval in his voice and I exulted in it.
I lay there idly. What an end to my first day at Whiteladies—Little Whiteladies, as I had christened it, for there could only be one true Whiteladies.
Somewhere in the garden I heard the laughter of the kookaburras, mocking me, it seemed.
Adelaide would not allow me to put my foot to the ground for the next three days, so I spent the time in her sitting-room. Stirling carried me to my bedroom every night. Both Adelaide and Stirling were determined to look after me, and show me that they welcomed me as their young sister. I did some sewing for Adelaide. This consisted of making garments for the numerous people who worked in the house. There were several small cottages in the grounds where these people lived and I had already discovered that there were several children.
“My father likes them all to be treated as though they are part of the family,” she said; and she looked at me quickly to see what effect that remark had had on me. I didn’t understand then but it gradually dawned on me that many of the children had been fathered by Lynx.
Later it became a habit of mine to look for his features. I found them often. It was understandable. Lynx was virile in every sense. He was not the sort of man to lead the existence of a monk. He took these young women according to his whim and no one thought the worse of him for it. I never found those startling blue eyes anywhere else. Even Stirling—the legitimate heir-had not inherited those.
During those days Stirling called in often to see me. I told him I was ashamed of what had happened and hoped Tansy had suffered no harm.
“It’s nothing,” he reassured me.
“It’s better to be bold than scared out here.” And I was grateful to them for making light of my adventure. I was growing fond of Adelaide, whom I had already begun to regard as my kindly elder sister. She brought me trays with tea and scones served just as they were at home; and there was peach jam and passion fruit jelly which she had made herself.
Those days appeared strange after all that had gone before — so quiet and peaceful. I felt that I had come to a little oasis, but I knew that my stay there would be only temporary. Lynx did not come to see me. I realized that that would be expecting too much.
Stirling’s visits were mainly in the evenings. He was away most of the day at the mine, making up for lost time, he told me. I heard a lot of talk about the mine and longed to see it, and yet in a way I didn’t want to. I felt it would bring back memories of my father too vividly.
Mary, the maid, helped me dress in the mornings; she would bring me a breakfast tray and after that my hot water. She was shy and seemed afraid of something. I tried to discover of what but was not successful. Then Stirling would insist on carrying me to Adelaide’s sitting-room, which was unnecessary for I could easily hobble there.
All the same, I must admit I liked this attention; I liked the feel of his strong arms supporting me. He carried me so effortlessly, but I told him that this accentuating of my disability only called attention to my folly.
It was on the third day after my accident and I was lying on the sofa in Adelaide’s room stitching at a calico shirt, working diligently, feeling that this was one way of showing my penitence for being so foolish, when the door opened slightly and Jessica glided in. I felt a sudden shiver run down my back which could have been due to the wild look in her eyes and the noiseless manner in which she had entered the room.
“How are you?” she asked and drawing up a chair sat down near my couch. Imperceptibly I felt myself shrink away from her.
“I’m getting on very well, thanks,” I said.
“In fact I’m a bit of a fraud. I should really be walking about but Adelaide won’t hear of it.”
“There are other frauds about.” She smiled.
“And not far away from here either.”
“Is that so?”
She nodded conspiratorially.
“Has he been in to see you?”
I knew to whom she referred but I feigned not to do so.
“Who?” I asked.
“Him. The master.”
“No. I didn’t expect him.”
“He cares neither for God nor man,” she told me.
“You could have been killed on that horse and he wouldn’t have cared.”
“He did warn me not to ride Tansy, so it was entirely my own fault.”
“All he’d care about would be the horse.”
“Well, it’s a very fine horse.”
She turned those strangely wild eyes on me. They were brown and I could see the round staring pupils looking full at me.
“Valuable,” she whispered.
“He thinks of goods, property, gold. That’s what he cares about.”
“So do many people.”
She came closer to me and I felt trapped on my couch.
“But he cares more than anyone else. He’s quite ruthless, as we all find out when we get to know him. I found out. Maybella found out. My uncle found out. He came as nothing … nothing … a prisoner, a slave. Seven years’ transportation and in a year he was ruling us all.”
“He’s a very unusual man.”
“Unusual!” She laughed and her laughter reminded me of that of the kookaburras which I insisted had startled my horse.
“There has never been a man like him. I hope there never is another. Beware of the Lynx. He hypnotizes people. My uncle, Maybella … and look what happened to Maybella. He killed her.”
“Maybella. She was …?”
“He married her, didn’t he? Why? Did he want Maybella? Did he care that much for her?” She snapped her fingers.
“And what happened to Maybella, eh? Do you know?”
“I don’t,” I said, ‘but I should like to. “
The door opened and Adelaide came in. She frowned at Jessica. Then she said lightly: “Oh, there you are, Jessie. Just in time for a cup of coffee. I was making some for myself and Nora.”
She was carrying a tray with a crochet-bordered cloth. The coffee smelt delicious, but I wanted to hear what Jessica had to tell me and I knew she would not go on while Adelaide was there.
Adelaide set down the tray and briskly poured out the coffee.
“Plenty of milk, Nora,” she said.
“That’ll do you good. Here, Jessie. Just as you like it.”
Jessica’s hands were trembling as she took the cup.
“I think that tomorrow you might walk about a bit, Nora,” went on Adelaide.
“Not too far, of course. In the garden perhaps. Don’t go wandering out into the bush yet, will you? “
Jessica had fallen into silence and when she left us Adelaide said.
“Did she talk wildly? She does now and then and I’m afraid this is one of her bad days. It doesn’t do to encourage her or to take too much notice of what she says.”
All the same I wanted to hear Jessica’s version of what happened to Maybella.
In a week my ankle had completely recovered and I felt as though I had been much longer than that time at Little Whiteladies. I was so anxious to make up for the Tansy incident that I helped Adelaide as much as I could. I began to learn to cook; I did a little gardening; I sewed; and I became like a daughter of the house. Adelaide and Stirling were pleased with me. I began to know the servants and this was when I realized how useful I could be, for the aboriginals were notorious for going ‘walk-about’ as they called it; and they were constantly disappearing. Even their fear of Lynx didn’t prevent them; or perhaps it was one of the reasons for it. And whenever a white servant could not be found, it was always presumed that he or she had gone off to the diggings.
“I wish they’d never found gold in Victoria,” said Adelaide.
It was not long before I was riding again. One could not get along in this country without a horse, so it was no use letting one little mishap deter me. On Stirling’s advice I had a strawberry roan named incongruously Queen Anne; she was neither the old hack Blundell was nor was she of the calibre of Tansy.