Then he was gone and she was left in charge of a strange kitchen. Xanthe stood for a moment, looking round. This one room was as large as their whole house had been in Outham and seemed to be used as kitchen, dining room and sitting room, as if it was the living heart of the house. It needed a good clean, but she and Maia could do that.
For the first time since they’d landed in Australia she felt a sense of home.
Wasn’t that strange? Perhaps it was because Mrs Largan was such a kind, friendly woman. Or because it was such a lovely house.
Humming, she went to find the ham and cut them some slices, using the fat to fry the stale bread, guessing she’d be feeding Sean as well and that he’d eat as heartily as his master.
Conn watched her from just beyond the doorway, noting that she didn’t slack off when she thought no one was watching, enjoying the sound of her humming.
Xanthe had set a tray for his mother already, found a little lace-edged cloth to lay on it, and one of the pretty plates. His mother would appreciate that.
The smell of the frying bread made his stomach rumble so he went in to join her. ‘That smells wonderful.’
Xanthe gasped and turned round, one hand to her breast.
‘Sorry to give you a shock. That smells so good.’
‘Are you hungry?’
She didn’t say ‘sir’, didn’t seem aware that she ought to, but what did that matter? She was doing what he’d brought her here for, looking after the house and his mother. Perhaps now he could start making plans for this strange property he’d bought, which had been built by a man with more money than sense, a man who’d built a huge rambling house before he’d cleared the bush and made fields for his stock. The fellow had moved to New South Wales now, but Conn doubted he’d do any better there. Some men seemed born to fail.
At least the property had come cheaply, because no one wanted to buy a place out here – no one but an emancipist who preferred his own company to the scorn of others, and intended to use what money he had to advantage.
Unlike the previous owner, he was grimly determined to succeed. He’d made careful plans, practical ones too, things a man could manage step by step. The first stage had been interrupted when his mother suddenly arrived to join him in Australia, having left home and family in outrage at what they’d done to him.
Now that he had the maids, he could go ahead with his plans. He wondered if the two sisters knew how desperately he needed them. He’d have to make sure they were happy here.
He smiled at the sight of a plate of simple but appetising food as he sat down at the kitchen table with Xanthe. It hadn’t occurred to her to set the table in the dining room for her master, and he didn’t intend to tell her. It would be easier if they all lived in this large room.
‘Maia’s helping your mother with her meal,’ she said cheerfully as she picked up her knife and fork. ‘I hope your food is all right.’
He cut a piece of ham and lifted it to his mouth. Strange how much more appetising it was when fried – and when you had company to eat it with.
He was tired but felt more hopeful than he had for a long time.
And his mother, his wonderful mother, had the care she deserved.
‘He still loves you, you know,’ Pandora said quietly as the two sisters finished washing the dishes from the evening meal, performing this duty at the outdoor table in a tin bowl.
Cassandra couldn’t think what to say, was weary of protesting that she didn’t want anything to do with Reece.
‘You should give him a chance.’
‘I have the baby to think of.’
‘And will you make two people unhappy because of a baby, which need never even know how it was fathered?’
‘Why are you going on about this?’
‘Because Reece asked me to talk to you, plead with you to listen to him. And I was happy to do that. Oh, Cassandra love, do talk to him. You decided
for
him, not
with
him. Dad always said people ought to make their own decisions. He let us do that as much as he could, even when we were quite small. Can’t you allow Reece the same privilege?’
‘No. I just – can’t. Daren’t. For the baby’s sake.’
Pandora opened her mouth as if to protest, then closed it again.
‘I’m sure Reece would be kind to your child.’
‘There are no guarantees.’
‘You’re not even giving Reece a chance!’
‘I might have done if he hadn’t reacted as he did when I told him. Now I daren’t ... I just daren’t.’
The following evening, Cassandra walked across to throw the last of the day’s rubbish into the pit. As she reached out for the shovel to scatter earth over the debris, someone caught hold of her arm. She looked round to see Reece by her side.
‘Give me a chance,’ he said quietly. ‘At least listen to me.’
Her throat filled with anguish but she was afraid to do as he asked. As she swung round to walk back to the cooking area, he caught hold of her arm again and this time he wouldn’t let go.
‘I won’t ever force you to do anything again, but you’re being unfair, so I’m going to insist you listen to me properly.’
She tried to pull away, but his grip tightened and he was stronger than her after his months of hard physical work. She looked round, intending to call for help. The Southerhams were standing on their tiny veranda, staring across at them.
‘Let’s go for a walk. It’s the only way we’ll get any privacy.’
When Reece started dragging her away, she fought him, saw Mr Southerham take a step towards them as if he intended to stop this. But Pandora hurried across and began talking earnestly to them, then Mrs Southerham grabbed her husband’s arm to stop him.
Mr Southerham threw up his hands, shook his head as if not approving of what was happening, then went inside the house, followed by his wife.
Pandora moved back to the table and made flapping signs with one hand as if to urge Cassandra to go with Reece.
She gave up struggling but when he tried to pull her arm through his, she shook him off. ‘I’ll listen, but you won’t persuade me.’
‘This way.’
Without a word, she followed him along the little path he took every night.
He stopped by a huge fallen tree. ‘Could we sit down?’
She hesitated but she was tired after another long day’s work so she sat on the trunk, putting her arms round her knees, not looking at him. His voice was so close to her it seemed to wrap itself round her.
‘We’ve had no real chance to talk since I behaved so unkindly to you at the Home in Perth.’
‘Your reaction was no more than I’d expected.’
‘My reaction was shock more than anything. I couldn’t believe such a thing could have happened in Outham. Or to you.’
She continued to stare down the slope at a dark landscape crowned by a huge expanse of star-filled sky. Even such a short distance from the house, it felt as if they were the only people alive in the whole world. And that sense of space and peace soothed something inside her, gave her a feeling of freedom.
‘I walked by the river that day in Perth,’ he said, ‘and it took me a while to understand and come to terms with it all. I was so furious at those men, at what they’d done to you, but I wasn’t angry with you, never with you.’
‘It still drove you away from me.’
‘I needed to think and what I realised eventually when my anger subsided was ... Don’t you see, Cassandra? I’ve been given a second chance with this child of yours.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘I lost my wife and child. The baby was very small, white and limp but perfectly formed. He never breathed, poor little thing. They tried to hide his body from me, to carry it out like rubbish, but I insisted on seeing my son. And then –’ his voice thickened with tears, ‘– Nan died a few hours afterwards, just ... bled to death. They couldn’t save her. So I lost them both. It wasn’t till I met you that I started to feel happy again, as if my world had fallen into balance once more. And I stupidly left you. That damned Cotton Famine. It drove so many people away from Lancashire, parted families and lovers.’
He held up one hand. ‘No, wait! Let me finish. It wasn’t Lancashire I missed, not even Outham, but
you
.’ He raised Cassandra’s hand to his lips and kissed it very gently. ‘Now I’ve been given the chance to love another child, one who needs a father more desperately than most. But that child doesn’t need me half as much as I need you.’
She drew in a breath that was almost a sob and felt tears form in her eyes.
‘You think I’ll hate the baby, or at least resent it. But I won’t. I promise you I won’t. Because whoever the father is,
you
are the mother. And because I’ve never stopped regretting that my son died. Strangely enough, if it was a boy, I was going to call him Edwin. If yours is a boy, I’d like him to have the same name, for your father and for my dead son.’
One tear ran down her cheek but she didn’t try to brush it away. There was no doubting Reece’s sincerity. Could she, dare she believe him?
‘Almost as soon as our ship left England, I knew I was the greatest fool on earth to have left you.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. ‘This is the letter I wrote to you, asking you to come out and join me here.’ He pressed it into her hands. ‘Read it. You’ll see how much I need you.’
She looked down at the letter, surprised at how thick it was.
‘I won’t give up until I’ve persuaded you to marry me, so there’s another thing you need to consider: where you want to live. I like it here, think I can make a good life for myself and my family. But if
you
want to go back to England, then I’ll go with you. I’ll do anything to make you happy –
anything!
– because having you as my wife is as necessary to me as breathing.’
Now the tears were flowing. ‘Oh, Reece.’ She looked down at the packet then sideways at him, seeing tears on his cheeks too, seeing the loving expression in his eyes, the anxious way he was watching her. Suddenly the doubts fell away. ‘I don’t need to read this. I never heard a more eloquent speech, no, nor read one either.’
His voice was rough. ‘What does that mean?’
‘It means I believe you and ... that I’ll marry you.’
With an inarticulate cry, he drew her to him and showered her face with kisses. She laughed through her tears as she kissed him back.
When he pulled her to her feet to embrace her properly, the envelope dropped to the ground unheeded.
It felt good to hold and be held, so good she didn’t try to break the embrace, because his touch seemed to cleanse her, make her feel whole again.
Nor did he move for a while. Then he pulled back, breathing deeply. ‘I promise you I’ll make a good life for us. But we’ll wait till we’re married to love one another properly. I want more from you than your body; I want you as wife, friend, mother of my children, starting with this one.’ He laid a hand gently on her belly.
‘
We
will work together to make a good life,’ she corrected. ‘And I want all those things, too. I like it here already, only—’
‘Only what? Tell me? There must be no more secrets, no more barriers between us.’
‘It’s Pandora. She’s dreadfully homesick. You must have seen how unhappy she looks sometimes, how thin she’s grown again. I’m really worried about her.’
‘I’d guessed there was something wrong. I’ve seen her look sad and brush away a tear when she thinks no one’s near. We’ll find a way to help her settle – or we’ll send her back.’ He bent down to pick up the envelope, dusting off the sandy grit and pressing it into her hands. ‘Read this anyway.’
She clasped it tightly, let him take her hand and they walked back to tell the others their news.
Mr Southerham was the only one who didn’t seem pleased by it. But then he didn’t seem pleased by anything these days. Something seemed to be worrying him.
Well, Cassandra wasn’t going to let him spoil her happiness.
She waited until Reece had left for his friend’s house and the others had gone to bed to read the letter, sitting at the table with an oil lamp in front of her in a world filled with stars and soft warm breezes. It took her a long time to read it, because she kept stopping to smile fondly at a page or to reread a paragraph.
None of the stories of love that she’d read, not a single one of them, matched her own now that she’d read the words Reece’s heart had dictated. She was quite sure of that. She had found her soul-mate as well as her husband.
‘It’s Christmas in two days,’ Livia said the next morning. ‘We must do something to celebrate.’
‘I could bake a cake,’ Pandora offered. ‘You have some raisins, flour and sugar, I know. I like cooking.’ She smiled at her sister. ‘And I think I’m better at it than Cassandra is. But without butter, it’ll be a poor excuse for a cake.’
Francis’s expression brightened. ‘A cake of any sort would be a big treat. I really miss sweet things here.’
‘And we could sing hymns and Christmas carols in the evening,’ Reece said.
‘Good idea.’ Livia shot a glance at her husband. ‘I think we should invite Mr Lynch to join us.’
Francis glared at her, but she continued to stare at him defiantly. When he didn’t speak, she added, ‘I don’t like to think of anyone being alone at such a time.’