Although Goldie settled in quickly, a month later it became obvious that Daisy resented the presence of another female in the nursery.
Having lost her mother at too young an age to remember her, Daisy had automatically transferred her affections to her older sister. Daisy called her ‘Mamma’ now, and Siana didn’t bother to correct her. After all, her sister had only just turned five; what harm could it do? Daisy couldn’t remember her former impoverished existence in the mean estate cottage, either, for she’d lived a life of comfort ever since. When Daisy was old enough to understand, then Siana would explain the situation to her.
Daisy had welcomed the birth of Ashley almost two years before, but she seemed to regard the presence of Goldie with suspicion, as though the girl was competing for Siana’s affection. And indeed, Goldie was a rival. The empathy between Siana and the orphaned child was unmistakable. Something inside Goldie tugged at something in Siana, as if they were twin souls.
Now, Siana dried Goldie’s tears and scolded the defiant Daisy who stood with her legs apart and hands on hips, glaring indignantly at the younger girl.
‘Please don’t smack her again, Daisy. She’s smaller than you.’
Daisy’s bottom lip stuck out in a fat pout. ‘She took my doll from her house. I hate her.’
Goldie snuggled into Siana’s side, a livid welt decorating her cheek, the small wax figure held in her hand. ‘I was only looking at it,’ she whispered.
‘You should have asked Daisy first.’ Giving a sigh, Siana drew Daisy’s stiff little body against her other side. She stroked the golden curls at her temple. ‘It wouldn’t hurt you to share your toys, Daisy. Say sorry to Goldie.’
After a moment her sister relaxed a little. ‘But I’m not sorry, Mamma. If I say I am it will be a lie, and you told me I mustn’t tell lies.’
Siana stifled a grin. The wretch! Who could argue with such logic? ‘Then promise me you won’t hit Goldie again.’
For a moment, Daisy hesitated, then said, ‘I promise I won’t hit her if she promises not to steal my things.’
The time had come to lay down the law. ‘You have too many toys to play with all at once. If you don’t share them I’ll take them away from you. And I’ll turn you over my knee if you smack Goldie again. Do you understand?’
‘You’re not Goldie’s mamma; she’s buried in the cemetery,’ Daisy said rebelliously. ‘You found Goldie.’
‘And now I’m her mamma, and I love her as much as her own mamma did.’
‘You love her better than you love me.’ Daisy’s bottom lip began to tremble.
‘That’s not true, Daisy. I love you both, but I’ve loved you for longer, because I’ve known you since you were a baby.’ Siana cuddled the girls against her sides and was eventually rewarded by a kiss on each cheek. ‘Now, make friends. Dr Matheson is waiting for me and I have to ready myself. We’re visiting the Reverend White to arrange for the marriage banns to be called, and if the pair of you don’t behave yourselves I won’t allow you to be there on the day.’
The pair exchanged a glance of such consternation that Siana nearly laughed.
‘I’ll be friends if you will,’ Daisy said grudgingly.
Goldie hesitated for a moment, then in the quiet, trusting way she had, she nodded. Slipping from Siana’s side, she delicately replaced the little wax figure on her chair in the doll’s house.
When they skipped off towards the table, Siana heaved a sigh of relief and went through to the nursery, where Ashley was taking a rest. Her son was lying on his back sound asleep, his thumb sucked firmly into his mouth. Long lashes swept against his soft pink skin and his hair was a mass of dark silky curls. Love for her son overwhelmed her, making her unreasonably emotional, so her eyes moistened and she knew she’d be unable to speak coherently.
‘My dearest Edward, thank you for leaving me with this sweet son of ours,’ she choked out, ‘for I love him so much.’ Vulnerable under the influence of something so precious, she hugged the feeling to her, feasting on it.
Edward had honoured her by making her his wife. He’d caged her, but she’d loved him in her own way and missed the exciting intimacy of their life together. However, she tried not to think too much of her late husband, especially in the face of her forthcoming marriage to Francis, whom she loved completely and without reservation.
The nursery maid smiled when Siana stooped to kiss Ashley’s cheek. ‘He might be looking like an angel now, but he’s been as lively as a flea on a dog this morning. Fair wore me out, I can tell thee.’
Siana chuckled as she left, wishing she had more time to share with the children. But most of her time was taken up by the affairs of Cheverton Estate. And now she had her wedding to arrange.
Changing into a gown of amber brocade, with a velvet shoulder cape for warmth, she allowed her maid to tie the lace-decorated strings of her bonnet under her chin. They made a becoming frill which set off her centre parting and allowed her ringlets to escape into fashionable disarray.
‘Pretty as a picture,’ Rosie said with satisfaction. ‘Now don’t you be forgetting your cloak. ’Tis cold outside and, although I told the groom to heat some bricks for your feet to rest on, you can’t be too careful.’
Hot bricks, was it? Not long ago, her warmth came from her mother’s old shawl and a pair of hand-me-down boots, and grateful she’d been for them, too. Still, it was nice to be cosseted.
Francis was waiting for her in the drawing room, his hands cupped around a steaming tankard of hot, spiced brandy. The remains of ham and cheese and a crusty loaf of bread rested on a plate. There was a special edge to his smile today. ‘You won’t mind if I come with you in the carriage?’
‘I will mind if you don’t. Finish your drink, Francis. The horses will wait.’
His mount came with them, tied behind the carriage, for Francis was the only doctor in the district, and never knew when he’d be called on to visit those suffering from disease or accident.
The coachman clicked his tongue and the Cheverton blacks set off, their heads nodding, their breath steaming and leathers creaking and clinking. The ground was hard. In the shadows the frost hadn’t yet cleared. The iron-shod hooves of the carriage horses threw up stones, snapped twigs, and chopped up clods of decaying leaves.
How evocative the smell of winter was, Siana thought. The air was redolent of the woodsmoke curling from the chimneys of the labourers’ cottages, seasoned with the cold and spiced by salt carried on the wind blowing off the sea. The pine trees retained their fragrance under a taut skin. The sap was no longer liquid, but a hard amber vein waiting for the rise of spring. The trees stood in a carpet of rust and fallen cones, their needles dark, bristling spikes.
The land belonged to Ashley, the son of her first marriage, who was the product of a liaison between an aristocrat and a peasant. The day after their marriage she and her aristocrat had made love in this carriage, on the way to the horse sales.
Her quiet chuckle turned Francis’s eyes her way. They contained an unspoken query. It was one she couldn’t answer, for memories such as this one could not be shared with him. She leaned forward, took his hands in hers and gently tugged. ‘Come and sit beside me, Francis.’
The winter grey of his eyes registered amusement as he resisted. ‘So you can tease me?’
The laughter suddenly left her when she realized the depth of her hunger for him. ‘Are you so easily teased by me, then?’
‘You know I am.’
Softly, she said, ‘Dearest Francis, you allow your background to show when you play the drawing-room aristocrat. Your manners and control don’t impress me in the least, especially when I so long to be loved by you.’
His smile returned at that. ‘I’ve forgotten how to play courtship games, Siana.’
‘I know.’ Taking his face between her hands she tenderly kissed him, whispering against his lips, ‘Are you so frightened of loving me that you must keep me at arm’s length?’
‘Aye,’ he said. ‘For to have you in my bed before our wedding night would be disrespectful to you, and wrong for us.’
‘Even though I’m a peasant by birth?’
His eyes became glacial. ‘You make too much of your low birth. You have risen above it now. You move in different circles and must accept different standards of behaviour. I will not be the one to push you down again. It seems I must show restraint for both of us.’
Which struck her as being slightly hypocritical, for she’d learned that what these people did in a public way and what they did privately often contradicted each other.
‘“Manners maketh the man”,’ she said almost accusingly, dredging the words out from she knew not where.
He was cutting. ‘“Manners maketh man.” If you are going to quote, quote correctly.’
Giving a tiny gasp she pulled away from him, colour rising to her face. ‘You are displaying very few manners, Francis. Your words are wounding. You mock my lack of education, and speak as if you believe the peasants are little more than animals.’
The expression in his eyes softened. ‘You know that’s far from the truth. I’ve always been straightforward in my speech. You know I love you, Siana, but you must learn to be less spontaneous in demonstrating your affection . . . in public, at least.’
‘Perhaps it should be you who learns to be more spontaneous.’
He shrugged. ‘When we are wed, be assured, I will prove my mettle to you, for I’m not a man to hang back without reason.’
She turned to gaze at the countryside passing by, hurt beyond measure by his rebuke. Gradually, she came to realize that in being too forward she’d embarrassed him. Francis was more conventional than Edward had been, and she must adjust her behaviour accordingly. So when the church tower came into her view she turned apologetically to him. ‘I’m sorry, Francis.’
He took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. ‘I must apologize for being so churlish. I find it hard to display affection in public, but if it’s any consolation, you’re constantly in my thoughts. I did not seek to mock you, for I’m proud of what you’ve achieved. I’m totally ashamed of myself.’
The Reverend Richard White’s smile was wide when he saw her. When Siana had been younger and in need, the reverend had taught her to read and then employed her in his house. She could not forget the fact that the help had been withdrawn when she’d needed it most, but kept it in mind that he’d been manipulated by others, her late husband in particular. Although he was verging on portly, and past middle age, Siana found Richard to be likeable. But she no longer held as much respect for him as she had in the past.
Their interview was formal, as Richard sought to make sure they both understood the duties attached to the marriage vows. Sounding bored, Francis told him, ‘Both of us have been wed before and are well aware of what is required.’
‘Quite so.’ Richard sighed. ‘I have not seen you in church lately, Francis.’
Francis’s mouth twisted wryly. ‘Winter has brought its usual diseases to haunt the villagers. We have lung sickness, rheumatism and stomach ailments at the moment. There has been a case of lockjaw, and several deaths from malnutrition amongst children from the larger families. I must put my vocation above all else at times.’
Tears pricked at Siana’s eyes. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’
‘They wouldn’t welcome your charity.’ He slid her an apologetic look. ‘I know you’ve done your best, Siana, but the improvements to the cottages have had little effect, since whitewash doesn’t keep out the draughts or the rain, and most of them need rebuilding. What the villagers need is good, nourishing food.’
‘Then I’ll talk to Jed Hawkins and see if the estate can manage a rise in wages again.’
Richard nodded approvingly. ‘Siana tells me you’ll be moving into the manor once you’re wed, Francis. You’ll be in the position to do something about conditions, then.’
Siana opened her mouth, then shut it again when Francis gazed at her with a slight frown. ‘The estate belongs to Edward’s son, not to Siana. I’m not a trustee, so I’ll not be in the position to administer any inheritance there may be. As for me moving in, this hasn’t yet been discussed between us.’
Picking up the slight current of tension, Richard gently coughed. ‘You’ll stay for refreshments, won’t you? Mrs Leeman has so looked forward to your visit, Siana.’
Francis rose to his feet as if he were about to refuse, then he seated himself again when she appealed to him, ‘Have I time to visit my mother’s grave?’
‘Aye,’ he said, his voice slightly gruff and ashamed. ‘Do you want to be alone, or shall we take refreshment first, then stop off on the way home?’
‘We’ll take refreshment, for I expect Mrs Leeman has prepared it, and I’d like to pass some time with her if I may.’
The housekeeper had aged, but was delighted to see her. The reverend invited Mrs Leeman to join them and she presided over the teapot, self-conscious and pink-cheeked. Siana made a mental note to invite her to the wedding.
‘Have you heard anything from my father?’ she asked Richard.
‘The last I heard of Gruffydd Evans he was preaching in Hyde Park, in London, to a large crowd. But that was several months ago. He has a companion travelling with him. A theology student taking a sabbatical from his studies, I believe.’
After tea, they took their leave, pausing at the churchyard, where Siana’s mother and stepfather were buried. She gazed at the tombstone her deceased husband had erected, murmuring, ‘Mourned by Lady Forbes. I always resented Edward for trying to make me something I wasn’t.’
‘And now you resent me.’ Francis turned her round to face him. ‘Take my word for it, Siana. There’s nothing mysterious about people. Clad in silks or sacking, we’re all the same naked, and become nothing but dust after we die.’
‘Yet you go to church and pray on occasion.’
‘And so do you. It’s convention and fear of the unknown, my pagan princess.’ He grinned. ‘The combination is a damned nuisance.’
She chuckled. ‘You’ve been as prickly as a hedgehog today.’
‘I was up half the night, battling for a child who was near to death.’ A smiled drifted across his face. ‘He recovered.’
‘Despite God.’
‘Now, there was a battle.’
‘My father would condemn you to suffer for your sin, one day.’
‘If I do, it will be worth it for the life of that one child.’
She gently caressed his cheek. ‘I love you.’
Taking her in his arms, he held her close. ‘Do you want to visit Edward’s grave whilst you’re here?’
‘No, we’ve said goodbye.’ She gazed at her mother’s tombstone again. ‘You’re right, they’re only dust.’ She lifted her head and gazed into his eyes, a faint smile on her face. ‘But I know my mother still lives, for sometimes she looks back at me from the mirror or through the eyes of Josh and Daisy.’
His arms tightened around her and they stood there for a moment, his chin resting on her head, his body sheltering her from the bitter wind that had sprung up, as if she were a delicate hot-house plant. ‘I love you,’ he murmured, ‘never doubt it,’ and he tipped up her chin and kissed her with so much tenderness she wanted to cry.
Then his horse stamped and whinnied and the spell was broken. She shivered. ‘Take me home, Francis. My brother Josh is bringing Elizabeth over to stay for a few days. She’s going to help me with the arrangements for the wedding.’
They strolled back to the carriage hand in hand.
‘Your friendship with Elizabeth never ceases to amaze me. By rights, you should be enemies.’
‘Because of Edward?’ She laughed. ‘Their relationship was over before I married him. Elizabeth is the most generous woman on earth. As you know, she suffered greatly when she was married to my stepbrother, who was a bully. Elizabeth and I needed each other at the time; she became my mentor and my friend, and I love her dearly.’
‘When did you intend to tell me of your plans to have me live at Cheverton Manor?’ he teased, handing her into the carriage.
‘Ah yes, I’ve been waiting for the right opportunity to ask you.’ She could hardly meet his eyes. ‘Would you mind very much if we lived there? There’s plenty of room for the children, and if I move out, half the servants will be without work. Will the fact that I was married to the previous owner bother you?’
He placed a finger over her mouth, hushing her. ‘Today, I realized that your love for Edward Forbes was more deeply rooted than I imagined. The thought made me feel jealous, and I reacted badly to that.’
‘You mustn’t ever be jealous. Yes, I loved Edward, for he was good to me when I desperately needed someone. I love you in a much deeper way, Francis. You complete me.’
He smiled at that. ‘There’s a notion that pleases me.’
‘If you wish to live elsewhere, we shall.’
‘Someone has to guide the young Sir Ashley in his gentlemanly occupation as squire of the district, I suppose. I was going to suggest it myself.’
‘I couldn’t think of anyone better. Are you sure it won’t be too much of an imposition? I know how busy you are.’
Settling himself across from her he smiled with a certain amount of smugness. ‘I’ve taken another doctor into the practice. His name is Noah Baines. If I move into the manor it will solve the problem of finding him decent accommodation.’
She grinned. ‘That means you’ll have more time to spare with your family, then.’
‘How perceptive of you, my dear.’ He held out his hands. ‘Come over here so I can kiss you.’
‘Certainly not, sir.’ Her eyes gleamed with mischief. ‘As you so rightly pointed out earlier, I would be acting like a strumpet, which would hardly be circumspect.’ The words had hardly left her mouth when he grabbed her hands and jerked her forward. She landed on his lap, laughing.
He traced a finger over her mouth, reducing the laughter there to a smile, then to a sober, trembling response. His grey eyes held hers to his, brought her into his intensity. ‘I want you to know how much I love you,’ he whispered, and his mouth reached gently to capture hers, then deepened into a kiss of such passion she was powerless to stop it.
Every part of her became yearningly alive, and she speculated on what it would be like to be loved by this man. He took his time over the caress, exploring the depths of her mouth, his tongue encouraging hers to flirt and dance. He released her in his own time, a delightfully rueful look on his face as he stated, ‘Sometimes a man can be his own worst enemy.’
‘And a woman’s.’ Siana knew of several ways to ease his desire, but it wouldn’t be wise to reveal all that she had learned about loving – not yet!
Josh Skinner whistled as he urged the horses on. Driving a coach and four, a vehicle that took passengers from one town to another, he was enjoying every moment. He’d had a full coach from Poole through to Wareham, and would pick another load up on the return journey.
At sixteen, Josh resembled the Skinner family with his mousy-coloured hair and blue eyes. He lacked the Skinner stockiness, though. His slim, wiry build and fine features were inherited from the Welsh side of the family, for the mother of Siana, Daisy and Josh was Megan Lewis. Not that they were acquainted with the Welsh side, for their mother had been cast out of her village for conceiving Siana out of wedlock, and had never seen her family again.
Recently, Josh had gone into partnership with one Giles Dennings, former head clerk at the bank where Josh kept his account. The pair had bought a coaching business from a company which was going bankrupt.
‘I’ve had my eye on this un for some time. The owner is drinking the profits away and it’s only a matter of time before he starts to go under,’ Josh had told Giles. ‘Everyone is frightened the railways will put ‘em out of business, so the coach company can be picked up cheap. Things move slowly in these parts and I reckon the railways won’t get here for years to come. By the time they do, at five pence a mile sitting inside the coach, and half price outside, we’ll have made ourselves a bleddy fortune.’
Giles had watched Josh’s bank account swell rapidly since he’d started his business with a mule and cart as a ragged twelve-year-old. The head clerk had surprised Siana’s brother when he’d thrown in his lot with him. It was as if Giles had known he would be incapable of juggling the various tolls, licences, government charges, horsing costs and other etceteras that were part of the coaching business. But like Giles had said, he saw no avenue to advance from his present situation, so might as well take a gamble on his own skills.
‘We’ll take it over lock, stock and barrel – drivers, outriders and all,’ Josh had told him. ‘You run the business and scheduling side and I’ll handle the horses and the employees.’
Jasper would be right proud of him if he had known. Jasper was the old mule Josh had started out with. A framed likeness of him hung on the wall of his new office. It had been drawn by Josh’s side-kick, the stunted deaf-mute boy he’d aptly named Sam Saynuthin. The mule stood between the shafts of a light cart, its ears pricked alertly forward. A figure bearing a remarkable resemblance to Josh was at the reins. Josh Skinner, Cockles and Cartage, it said on the side of the cart.
Now Josh handled his new acquisition with pride. Sam Saynuthin grinned, then gave a prolonged blast on the post horn before Josh turned through the gates of Cheverton Manor. His sister-in-law Elizabeth, and her pretty little daughter, Susannah, were tucked cosily inside the coach.
Josh saw his sister come running out on to the porch. She was a bonny sight. Then Jed Hawkins appeared, a tall, silent figure, who stepped forward when the coach came to a halt to hand Elizabeth and her daughter down.
Josh noticed the glance Jed and Elizabeth exchanged and silently whistled. Jed Hawkins had visited Elizabeth on several occasions of late, even sleeping in the guest bedroom one night, when his horse had thrown a shoe. He wondered what Siana would say when she found out. Still, it weren’t any of his business – or Siana’s, come to that.
‘Good day to you, Josh. That team is a bit of a step up from old Jasper.’
‘A grand old mule, he was, Jed. Jasper did me proud, and he was much easier than driving this team. These buggers need to learn to keep in step. Old Jasper brought me in a shillin’ or two from the knacker when he died.’
The steward nodded and, running an approving eye over the coach, grinned at him. ‘That’s a big rig.’
Josh grinned back, for the pair had put the past rancour aside now Edward Forbes was dead, and they were comfortable with each other. ‘Carries fifteen passengers at once, it do.’
By crikey, he was going up in the world when a man like Jed Hawkins stopped to pass the time of day with him. Money talked, and no one would ever call the Skinners vermin again, Josh thought. At least . . . not to their faces.
Isabelle Collins was not a happy woman.
‘That Skinner harlot has put in a bid for the Bainbridge Emporium,’ she hissed at her husband, Ben. ‘She’s pushing the price up.’
‘I don’t know why you lets the woman get you so tempered up, Issy.’
She couldn’t tell Ben that she hated Elizabeth Skinner for lots of reasons, but mainly because she was everything Isabelle wanted to be herself – a lady. Elizabeth Skinner’s breeding shone through even though her conduct had been blatantly immodest over the years.
Isabelle chose to forget that her own modesty had been sadly lacking at one time – she chose to deny that the real bone of contention between them had been the old squire, to whom she’d been promised in marriage. Edward Forbes had jilted her for the peasant girl, Siana Lewis who, in her turn, was a good friend of Elizabeth Skinner.
Isabelle hated both of them. But she was wary of the peasant girl, for she’d already come off worst in a confrontation with her.
It was said that both women had shared Edward Forbes’s bed at the same time. Both were beautiful to look at, amusing and popular. She’d always imagined the pair laughing at her awkwardness and her ugly body though, had she but known it, neither of the women gave her more than a passing thought.
Isabelle was unhappy, and when she was unhappy she became the coarse farm girl she’d once been – before her aunt, Caroline, had sent her to school to improve her manners, and before she’d inherited the fabric warehouse and shop.
‘That strumpet sells all manner of scandalous things, most of them fit only for whores like herself to wear. No decent woman would wear silk garments and lace next to her body.’
‘And you shouldn’t be using bad words in front of little Alexandra. You want her to grow up to be a nice little lady, don’t yer?’
Her husband was prancing around on his hands and knees, looking for all the world like an overgrown infant himself. His son, George, and their daughter, Alexandra, both clung to his back. Shrieking with laughter, they fell sideways when he flattened on to his belly. He turned over and gazed up at her, grinning. ‘Aren’t you goin’ to out-bid her, then?’
‘I want that Emporium, but I ain’t going to let her ruin me. The building itself needs expensive repairs and it’s a fire trap. You’ve got to consider resale value. If she keeps pushing up the price it won’t be worth buying it. It would be cheaper to build a new one.’
‘Then burn it down, buy the site and build a new one on it.’
Ben didn’t often say anything so sensible. Isabelle’s eyes narrowed. This bore thinking about, but she must take no action that could be put down to her.
As Ben gazed at her his tongue came out to moisten his lips. ‘You looks all pink and pretty in that gown. Why don’t you come down here, give your Ben a nice juicy kiss and play horsies with him, too?’
Excitement raced through her. ‘We can’t conduct business in front of the children.’
‘Of course we can’t.’ He nodded to them. ‘You two go and visit Great-aunt Caroline in her sitting room for an hour. Tell her that your ma and I have got urgent business to discuss, and you can stay for tea with her. She’ll like that.’
Isabelle blushed as the children raced away. She locked the door after them. Even after three years of marriage, Ben Collins’s desire for her was still hot and strong.
He grinned at her, murmuring. ‘I reckon your arse would look right pretty in a pair of silk pantalettes.’
‘Get on with you, Ben Collins,’ she said, giggling when he pulled her down on the floor beside him and fumbled with the fastenings of her bodice.
Isabelle was a large woman. Her bosoms were as round as melons, her thighs and hips dimpled and cushiony. Ben smiled happily when she emerged from her bodice, and said with great reverence, ‘They be a beauteous pair of titties, our Isabelle. Lord knows, I must be the happiest man alive.’ As he bent to kiss each swollen button, he slid a hand up under her skirt. ‘Your Ben’s got a right need on him today, so where’s his fat little puddin’ hidin’ then?’
Isabelle relaxed her thighs with a tiny shiver of anticipation. Ben’s eyes gleamed when he gazed at what she revealed. He liked looking at her, and the fact that he’d been the only man who’d ever thought her attractive made her want him all the more.
She glanced at his stem, rearing thick and proud when he loosened the opening in his trousers. Lord, he was a lusty man! But she was more than a match for him. She reached out to tease him, wondering if they made silk pantalettes in her size.
She’d get back to the problem of Elizabeth Skinner and the emporium later.
Elizabeth and Siana had always been able to talk frankly to one another. Now Josh had gone on his way and Susannah was happily installed in the nursery, the two women smiled across the tea tray at each other.
After the refreshment, they started work on the guest list. Francis had handed Siana a list of names from his sister-in-law, the countess. Prudence had placed herself and her husband, the Earl of Kylchester, top of the sheet of paper. Francis’s other four older brothers were then listed, along with their wives and children of the two with families. Then came a plethora of aunts and uncles, cousins, friends and acquaintances too close to ignore, in order of precedence.
Siana gazed at the list in dismay. ‘I had no idea Francis had so many relations.’
Elizabeth seemed amused. ‘There’s no need to invite William Matheson. The invitation wouldn’t reach Van Diemen’s Land until after the wedding. Out of courtesy, you must notify him of the event, however, for he may wish to send you a gift.’
‘From a wild land on the other side of the world? What sort of gift could he send us? It would serve him better for us to send him one. A wife, perhaps.’
‘I’ve heard that William Matheson has become quite wealthy as a farmer there.’
Siana choked out a laugh. ‘What use is wealth when one has no family or children, and all around you is wilderness? Although I’ve heard of the place, because it’s a prison colony, I cannot find it on the globe in the library. Francis told me it’s an island at the bottom of a huge continent in the southern waters of the world called Australia. It must be a dreadful place in which to live, for I’ve also heard the place is overrun with fierce and terrifying natives who throw spears at people.’ She shrugged. ‘Now, let’s get on with this task. There’s nobody from my side except you, Mrs Leeman, Josh, Daisy and Goldie.’
There was a momentary hesitation in Elizabeth, then she said, ‘Daniel and his wife will be in the district at the time.’
Siana’s mouth tightened as her eyes came up to meet Elizabeth’s. Usually, they avoided mentioning Elizabeth’s son, who had been fathered by Edward Forbes.