An Unconventional Heiress Read online

  ‘Very useful, I agree,’ Sarah responded, as bland as he.

  If he had tried to distract her from her misery he could not have done better. She almost laughed aloud at his skilful fencing, while also enjoying his masterly impudence, so much more subtle than that of the officers of the Regiment.

  ‘Annie’s death made me think on, Miss Sarah.’

  ‘Oh, in what way, Mr Dilhorne?’

  ‘That it’s bad business as well as a bad thing for a mill owner to drive young children to their deaths. I made Dempster an offer for his mill that he couldn’t refuse, so it’s mine now. I shan’t employ very young children, and for the rest I hope that my good friend, Dr Kerr, will come in and look at the young ’uns now and then.’

  ‘Why, that is most kind of you, Mr Dilhorne.’ Sarah wondered why it was that Dempster couldn’t refuse Tom’s offer!

  ‘Good business, not kindness. I leave kindness to the ladies, Miss Sarah. You’ve enough for most.’

  After they had parted Sarah felt happier than she had done for some days. Perhaps there would be no more dying Annies in Sydney. So much was she invigorated that Alan Kerr, coming to meet her after catching sight of her talking to Tom, said, ‘I am happy to see you looking so well again, Miss Langley.’

  ‘Sarah,’ she said. ‘It was Sarah last week, Dr Kerr, and it cannot be Miss Langley again after what we shared then.’

  He bowed, more overwhelmed by her than ever. ‘If so, it cannot be Dr Kerr. I am Alan to my friends, although I do not know what your brother will say when he hears us speak so informally.’

  For the first time in days Sarah laughed. ‘Oh, Alan, he can say nothing. I am my own mistress here as I was in England. More and more I understand why Carter likes his life in New South Wales. Despite the presence of convicts everywhere there is a sense of freedom in the air. The Exclusives find this shocking, I know, and poor Annie found little freedom, but I am convinced that times will change.’

  He smiled at her. She presented more of a temptation to him than she had ever done before. Her green eyes shot fire at him while she came out with her frank opinion on the life around her.

  ‘I must confess, Sarah, that I share your belief in future change. Governor Macquarie, I know, thinks the same. However, you may be underestimating the time that it will take. For the moment it is the military and the Government servants who control the colony, but the time will come when the those who are born here will take over—and they will be the children and grandchildren of the Emancipists.’

  Sarah found him easy to talk to. Only with Alan, and Tom Dilhorne, was she able to express herself so freely. Besides that, the secret of Annie that she shared with him had brought them closer together. She found herself telling him about her thieving from the kitchen in order to allay Mrs Hackett’s suspicions.

  ‘I am not certain, you see, that she fully believed your story about Sukie and Carter accidentally finding Annie, but if the thefts continue for a little while, why, then it will be difficult for her to prove that they harboured Annie far longer than you said and fed her from the kitchen.’

  Alan could not but admire her. She was the woman he had always hoped to meet but had feared that he never would—and she was beyond him. My splendid girl, he thought, how I wish that I could tell you of my true feelings for you. For the moment it had to be enough for him to talk to her and feel the rapport that was growing between them, day by day.

  ‘What did Tom have to say to you?’ he asked her, for he knew his friend of old, and also knew that he admired Sarah greatly.

  ‘Oh, it was a strange conversation. I’m sure that somehow he is aware of the truth about Annie, Sukie and Carter. Did you tell him?’

  ‘No, the fewer who know the truth the better. But Tom’s a downy cove, as they say in The Rocks. Nothing escapes him. That’s why he’s such a good business man. He knows people’s motives better than they do themselves.’

  ‘He’s always been kind to me,’ said Sarah, ‘but I shouldn’t like to get on the wrong side of him.’

  She found it a great relief to speak to a man so frankly, ignoring all the conventions that dictated that such a conversation should be politely vapid. She tried to imagine what Charles would have made of all the adventures in which she had been involved. If he thought that her painting was unwomanly, what would he have made of her birthing Nellie and trying to save Annie? Such people did not exist for him.

  ‘I trust that you will feel well enough to attend the Governor’s Musical Soirée,’ said Alan, desperate to find some means of remaining with her.

  ‘Oh, yes, I have been asked to play and sing. I cannot think that those who asked me were aware of what an amateur I am. How strange it is that it should be considered unwomanly of me to paint in oils, but perfectly proper that I should perform in public at the piano!’ Her face lit up. ‘Our customs must seem odd to the aborigines, that is, if the poor creatures understand that we have customs. Theirs certainly seem strange to me.’

  Had she but known it, Alan was helpless before her. Her combination of wit and insight when she spoke of the world around her displayed a singularly rare talent that showed her to be quite unlike most of the men and women whom he knew. He found it difficult to reply to her sensibly because he feared that, if he stayed talking to her much longer, he was in danger of proposing to her on the spot!

  ‘I shall see you there, then,’ he managed at last. ‘The Governor knows of my love of music.’ He bowed, and, with the greatest reluctance, they parted.

  Sarah walked on, only to be stopped again, this time by Frank Wright. Since Alan had told her how much he was attracted to her she had been wary of him, giving him no opportunity to speak to her alone. Now, caught in the street, she had no chance of avoiding his company.

  ‘Sarah,’ he said, ‘I am so happy to have met you. I would be most grateful if you would offer me some advice. I have known Lucy Middleton ever since the Regiment came to Sydney, but it was only when I saw her at her birthday party that I realised that she has turned into a doosed pretty girl—and jolly with it. You know much more about these things than I do, but do you think she would look favourably on me if I…well…if I proposed to her?’

  Relief that, if he had ever fixed himself on her, he no longer did, had Sarah saying swiftly, ‘Yes, indeed. I imagine that Lucy would listen to an offer from you most sympathetically.’

  ‘Oh, splendid,’ he exclaimed. ‘Apart from yourself, a fellow might do much worse than have Lucy Middleton for a wife.’

  He was rightly named Frank, Sarah thought, amused, and Alan had been right. Frank had thought of her as a possible wife, but had doubtless considered that she was beyond his touch while Lucy wasn’t. She was probably better than he deserved but, from everything she had said, Lucy wanted him and bless her, thought Sarah sentimentally, she looked like getting him!

  Whoever would have thought that Sydney, a town at the other end of nowhere, would prove to be such an exciting place in which to live? Every day brought along something new. Never a dull moment in the Antipodes, and even if some proved to be painful there seemed to be quite a few happy ones to make up for them.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘Frank’s asked me to go to the Governor’s Soirée with him,’ Lucy told Sarah excitedly on the day before it was due. ‘Oh, Sarah, do you think that he might be thinking about proposing some time soon? I believe that Mama thinks so, too. When I asked her if I could have Frank for an escort instead of going with the family party, she said yes immediately. That made me wonder if he’s already asked Papa for permission to speak to me.’

  ‘Possibly, and I shall be so happy for you if he does,’ said Sarah. She wasn’t surprised that the Middletons approved of his suit. He came from a gentry family and report said that he had a good income of his own beside his Army pay.

  ‘And you, Sarah, who are you going with, John? Or perhaps Stephen Parker. He’s a good fellow, too, you know.’

  ‘John, of course. I like Stephen’s company, you unde
rstand, but I am not éprise with him and so I have told him—and Pat Ramsey, too.’

  ‘Is there someone waiting for you back home?’ Lucy asked. She had often wondered why Sarah, so beautiful, clever and rich, should still be unmarried at twenty-two.

  ‘Back home? Oh, no, not at all,’ replied Sarah almost too quickly, so that Lucy wondered a little at why such a question should upset her.

  Wisely she said nothing other than, ‘I can’t wait for tomorrow night. Not only because of Frank, but because I understand that I am going to hear you sing and play. I’d no notion that you were accomplished on the piano, too.’

  ‘Only a little,’ Sarah said, with shrug, and turned the conversation to other things. She didn’t really want to be reminded of Charles Villiers with whom she had once thought that she had been in love.

  Like all the other functions over which Governor Macquarie presided, his soirée was well organised and well attended. It was held in the vast dining hall, which had been lit with hundreds of candles. When Sarah walked to the piano, dressed all in white, with silver ribbons in her hair, she was rapturously received by her uncritical audience.

  She played a short piano piece by Haydn before turning to her audience and announcing, ‘I am going to sing two short songs by our immortal bard, William Shakespeare, which I hope will remind you of home. The first is “Where the bee sucks, there suck I”, and the second is an Aubade, which is better known by its first line, “Hark! hark! the lark at heaven’s gate sings”.’

  More rapturous applause followed this announcement until Sarah raised her hand for silence, turned back towards the pianoforte and began to sing and play.

  Her voice was sweet and true, like herself, thought more than one of the men in the audience, including the Governor, who had heard tell of Miss Sarah Langley’s exploits. At the end there was silence before clapping and shouts of ‘encore, encore’ rewarded her performance. The Governor walked towards her when she rose from the piano stool and prepared to leave.

  ‘Come, come, Miss Langley, I know that you will not disappoint us after we have given you such an enthusiastic reception.’ He beckoned to Alan Kerr, who was sitting in the front row next to the his own chair—an honoured position that had already met with some criticism from the Exclusives who were present.

  ‘Doctor Kerr, I already know that you possess a good singing voice. I wonder, Miss Langley, whether you know that fine Scots song, “Sweet Afton”? If you do, I trust that you will agree to accompany him so that he may favour the company with it.’

  There was no denying the Governor. ‘Yes, I do know the song,’ she told him, ‘although I do not have its music with me, so I hope that Dr Kerr will forgive me if my rendition is not completely accurate.’

  Alan’s look told her all. However reluctant they might be to perform together in public, the Governor’s personal kindnesses to both of them demanded no less than obedience to his wish.

  Alan had a good, if untrained, baritone voice, and Sarah’s own performance was sufficiently competent so that when the last strains of the song died away there were few in the audience who remained unmoved by this memory of the home that they had left so many thousand miles away. Raising her hands from the keys, Sarah, her eyes full of tears, turned to look at Alan and it was obvious that he was equally affected. The rapport between them was plain for all to see.

  Their audience called for more from them both, but Sarah was so moved by the song, and by Alan’s response to it, that she did not wish to continue. Nor did he, for he shook his head gently before bowing it in acknowledgement of the continuing applause.

  Sarah rose from her stool. ‘You must forgive me,’ she said, after bowing herself, ‘I must not monopolise the evening’s entertainment. Another time, perhaps.’

  She was aware that she and Alan had had almost certainly given themselves away, and she thought that he was aware of that, too. Pat Ramsey had whistled between his teeth when he saw Sarah’s response to Alan Kerr. Now, he wondered, how long had that been going on? The society beauty tamed at last by the convict doctor! It was no wonder she had shown no interest in poor Parker or the officers of the Regiment.

  He kept these thoughts to himself, but once the concert was over and the company was drinking tea, or, in the gentlemen’s case, port, he carried his glass over to Sarah, who was surrounded by congratulatory admirers.

  ‘Sarah, my English rose, who is still flourishing in these distant seas, I must add my compliments to the rest. I had no notion that our dour Dr Kerr could sing so well, or that you would be quite so happy to accompany him.’

  Sarah’s look for him when he had finished was as sharp as she could make it. Patrick Ramsey, whatever else he was, was no fool and it behoved her to be careful when she answered him.

  ‘It would have been churlish to refuse the Governor, would it not, Pat? Do you sing? If so, we must make a duo at the Governor’s next soirée.’

  ‘Bravely said.’

  He put down his glass to applaud her gently. ‘Well, no one doubts your courage, Sarah, myself least of all. You have given the colony enough opportunities to admire it. I wonder if you have the courage to embark on the greatest adventure of all. Knowing you, and your brother’s position in society, I would have thought that you would settle for nothing less than a Duke—but I believe that I may be wrong.’

  Sarah’s stare at him would have cut glass. How strange that Pat Ramsey should be fencing verbally with her in much the same fashion as Tom Dilhorne. Did he know how much he had in common with the Emancipist he despised? She would treat him as she had treated Tom: coolly, giving nothing away.

  ‘No Dukes for me, I fear, Captain Ramsey. The ones I met in London were fat and middle-aged to a man—and married already, thank goodness. As for great adventures, I used mine up in one go when I agreed to accompany my brother here.’

  Pat’s smile for her was unforced. He took her hand in his and kissed it before she could stop him. ‘No more fooling from me, Miss Sarah Langley. As you must know, I admire you and your courage more than I can say. Had things been otherwise…but they are not. That being so, I can do no more than wish you well.’

  He released her hand and bowed, saying, ‘Now I must go and quiz someone else.’

  Sarah was left in the strangest mood. Had others also seen what Pat Ramsey undoubtedly had? Or was he cleverer, or more perceptive, than most? She felt that everyone’s eyes were on her and that the heat of the room had suddenly become overpowering. She walked through the crowd, automatically accepting the compliments of those about her.

  She needed air. One of the French windows was open and she stepped into the grounds, bathed in moonlight.

  She walked away from the house, down a shrub-lined path, the night air cool on her hot cheeks. She saw that another person beside herself had found the company tedious.

  It was Dr Alan Kerr.

  He saw her at the same moment that she became aware of his presence, and said, his voice low, ‘Did you find the crowd unendurable, too?’

  ‘Yes,’ and then in a rush, ‘oh, Alan, whatever could the Governor have been thinking of? I am sure that everyone saw…’

  Sarah ran out of words as the implication of what she had just said struck home.

  Alan took both her hands and kissed them. ‘What did they see, Sarah?’

  She lifted her eyes to his. ‘You know what they saw, Alan.’

  He kissed her hands again. ‘Yes, I know what they saw. I half-think that what the Governor did was deliberate. If so, he may have done us a favour. We were both afraid to speak of what lies between us. Oh, Sarah—’ and this time his kiss found her lips, before he raised his head and said, ‘I so hoped that you felt as I do. Tonight I am sure of it. Tell me that you do.’

  Sarah’s answer was lost as her arms stole around his neck and she returned his kisses with an ardour that she did not know she possessed. She felt as though she were drowning in a sea of passion, and as his embrace became more urgent and his kisses travelled down i
nto the decolletage of her low-necked dress she gasped and clung to him the harder.

  It had never been like this with Charles, never. The fire that swept through her was consuming Alan, too, and what might have happened next she did not dare to think—both of them had gone beyond sense and reason. The strange affinity that had been present since their first stormy meeting was reaching its inevitable conclusion.

  The French window was thrown wide, and John’s voice could be heard calling, ‘Sarah? Sarah, where are you?’

  They broke apart. Sarah turned away and tried to restore her dishevelled hair and replace the shoulders of her dress, which had slipped down in the passion of their embrace.

  John had seen them and came down the path towards them.

  ‘Oh, there you are, Sarah. Kerr, is that you?’

  Sarah’s immediate presence of mind surprised her. She might have spent her life prevaricating after being almost caught in a compromising position.

  ‘I was overheated,’ she said calmly. ‘I needed fresh air. Doctor Kerr evidently felt the same.’

  John glared suspiciously at them both. Sarah’s colour was high, her eyes glittered, and her hair had tumbled from its confining ribbons. Alan, whilst endeavouring to remain outwardly composed, despite the fact that he had been thoroughly roused, felt like a man who had been caught red-handed—and rightly so.

  He was deeply aware that John Langley did not approve of the friendship between him and Sarah, and would have been horrified to discover that Alan had been on the verge of seducing his sister—and that his sister had been perfectly willing to be seduced.

  In the face of Alan’s silence and Sarah’s steadfast refusal to be embarrassed, there was little that John could say beyond, ‘Well, I advise you both to return to the dining room before idle tongues begin to gossip. You have provided enough fodder for the tabby cats already, Sarah, without providing more.

  ‘Come, take my arm, it is perfectly proper for a brother and a sister to enjoy an evening walk in the gardens together. Doctor Kerr will excuse us both, I am sure.’