“Of what?”
“Of me?” he suggested.
“I can see no reason for that.”
He gave an exaggerated sigh of relief.
“I’m glad. There’s no need to be. I’m very fond of you, Miss Nora.”
“I’m glad, too, that I need not be scared, as you put it. Your feelings for me don’t really concern me either way.”
“Well, we could change that.”
“I think I am the best judge of my feelings.”
Oh, where were Adelaide and Stirling? Why didn’t they appear so that there might be an end to this conversation which he was forcing upon me. Well, not really forcing. I supposed I could walk away, but I did not want him to know how abhorrent I found him, for that would be to some extent betraying my fear.
“You are a very haughty young lady. I could change that, too.”
“Since when have you believed that you have the power to mould my character?”
“Ever since I saw you. In fact. Miss Nora, I have not ceased to think of you since that moment.”
“How strange!”
“It’s not strange at all. You’re a very remarkable young lady. The most remarkable I ever saw. I have never felt so interested in a young lady before.”
“What of Mary?” I suggested; and I felt the colour burning in my cheeks.
“Now you wouldn’t be jealous of a servant girl!”
“Jealous! You must be mad.” I walked away but he was beside me, walking close. He laid a hand on my arm.
I blazed at him.
“Mr. Jagger, kindly remove your hand. If you ever dare pester me again I shall speak to Mr. Herrick … I mean … Lynx!”
That name could strike fear into people. Jagger flinched and drew back immediately; and to my immense relief I heard Stirling’s voice.
“Nora, is tea ready yet?”
That evening we reached Melbourne. In the excitement of shopping I forgot Jagger. I bought some green silk material from which I planned to make a dress. I saw myself wearing it in the evenings when I played chess with Lynx. Adelaide would help me; she was adept with the needle and she loved having beautiful materials to work with.
She said to me as the material was being measured, “It’s nice to make lovely things. You’ll look pretty in that, Nora.” She pressed my arm and said quietly: “I’m glad you’re here with us. I can’t imagine what it would be like without you now.”
After four days we left and made the journey back. It was uneventful.
I could kindle a fire, make dampers and boil tea in billy cans I had experienced life in the bush.
“You’re one of us,” Stirling told me with approval.
I sat at the chess table; the long fingers caressed the ivory queen with her crown of gold and brilliants and he said:
“So you enjoyed your trip?”
“It was wonderful.”
“You liked sleeping rough?”
“Well, for a few night it was interesting.”
“I like my comforts. I am a sensual man. I’m like a cat. I like to sleep in a. warm bed, take a oath frequently, change my linen every day. It’s hardly possible to do these things in camp. But you liked it. “
“Perhaps I prefer my comforts too, but it was interesting to see the bush and to get some idea of how people have lived out there.”
“I imagine you are something of a pioneer, Nora. So you found your trip perfect in every way.”
“Well …” A vision of Jagger rose before me. I don’t know why it was that I had such fear of that man. Perhaps it was due to what had happened to Mary and the look in her eyes when she said she had been forced. Adelaide might not believe Mary, but I did.
“Oh … a fly in the ointment?”
How insistent he was! I could hide nothing from him.
“Adelaide and Stirling are good at everything,” I said quickly.
“They taught me how to make fires and dampers and so on … and how to live in the bush.”
“Jagger was with you, wasn’t he?”
I felt the slow flush creep into my cheeks.
“Oh yes, he was there.”
“He’s the best manager we’ve had,” he said.
“It’s not easy to get them. Most men would rather go after gold. So it’s not easy to keep them, and once they’ve gone they don’t come back. I see to that. Yes, Jagger is a good man with the property.”
Then the game started. I was quickly beaten on that occasion. I never had a chance to get into the attack.
“You’re not playing well tonight, Nora,” he said.
“Your thoughts are far away. In the bush perhaps.”
In a few weeks’ time Adelaide and I between us had made the green dress; we had also made up the more serviceable materials. Autumn was with us and we were preparing for winter. Logs were being brought into the wood house and Adelaide was stocking up with provisions. We were sometimes cut off by floods, she explained; and there might even be snow. Her father did not like. to be short of anything so it was her task to make sure that the house was well provided for. She had made jars of passioa fruit jelly, peach jam and orange marmalade.
After the heat of the summer I found the days delightful for riding and when Adelaide or Stirling could not accompany me I went alone. I never forgot Adelaide’s warning about being lost in the bush—one of the worst fates which could befall anyone—so I was always careful to watch for landmarks. I had my set rides and rarely diverged from them. Only by promising that I would either ride to Kerry’s Creek, Martha’s Mound or Dog Hill could I be given permission to go, and I believe they were always rather uneasy when t was alone while at the same time they did not wish to restrict me.
Characteristically they had agreed that I should not be coddled; and I was now a fair horsewoman and could be trusted to manage a horse.
On this morning I decided to ride out to Kerry’s Creek-my favourite spot. Here the creek ran between a grove of ghost gums and when the wattle was in bloom it was one of the loveliest spots in the neighbourhood. I liked to tether my horse to one of the gums and sit watching the water. A man named Kerry had come there twenty years before and found a little gold along the creek; he had spent ten years trying to find more and had gone away disappointed. Hence its name.
But now it was free of the seekers after gold for Kerry had proved it to be barren of that much coveted metal. Perhaps that was why it appealed to me.
I sat there on this lovely late April morning looking into the water and thinking of everything that had happened over the last months and how happy I was to have escaped from Danesworth House. Over there now the buds would be appearing on the trees and bushes; the aubrietia and arab is would be in flower; and Mary would be thinking that the cold nights were over and that for a brief spell before the heat of the summer she would be comfortable in her attic bedroom. Poor Miss Graeme would be reminded that spring was here again and another year had passed and she was a year nearer the time when Miss Emily would have no further use for her services.
How sad! Poor Miss Graeme! Poor Mademoiselle, getting less and less able to control her class. And here was I-escaped, as free as those lovely galahs flying overhead. Then I thought of Lynx’s coming up from the hold of the convicts’ ship and envying the birds.
Dear Stirling! Dear Lynx! I loved them both, and, in a lesser way, Adelaide. In a short while they had become my family and made up in some measure for the loss of my beloved father. I could be happy again. I was happy.
I heard a movement somewhere not far distant. How sound carries in the bush! Now I distinctly heard the galloping of horses’ hoofs. I stood up and shaded my eyes. I could see no one; so I sat down again and returned to my pleasant ruminating.
Yes, I was happy here. I believed that I was going to marry Stirling.